Penny: Come on, Sheldon, let's go home. Look, we're done fighting.
Sheldon: I've heard that before, but then, the next thing you know I'm hiding in my bedroom, blaring a Richard Feinman lecture while my mom is shouting that Jesus would forgive her if she put ground glass in my dad's meatloaf, and my dad's on the roof skeet-shooting her Franklin Mint collectible plates.
Penny: Okay, there's going to no more shouting and no skeet-shooting.