- M.F. Thatherton: Aren't you gonna introduce me to your golden-throated friend here?
- Hank: Sure, I'll introduce you. Mr. Holloway, this is the only man ever censured by the Texas Propane Association, for lewdness and conduct unbecoming a propane salesman.
- M.F. Thatherton: [Extends his hand] M.F. Thatherton. Thatherton Fuels.
- Mr. Holloway: Dang glad to meet you, M.F.
- Hank: The M.F. stands for...
- M.F. Thatherton: My friend!
- Mr. Holloway: [to Hank, gesturing to John Redcorn and Boomhauer] Look, J.R., an Injun and a hillbilly.
- [Hank is showing a prospective client from Boston around Arlen]
- Hank: You know, Mr. Holloway, Texas has changed a lot since the 1850s.
- Mr. Holloway: Aw, geez, I just wanted to see some boots, or spurs, or anything.
- Peggy Hill: What is goin' on, Hank. The way Bobby tells it, you bought my freedom from the Comanches with your rodeo winnings.
- Hank: You know, Mr. Holloway, I once had a pair of boots. And, uh, and then one day, my Uncle Fess lost his in a tornado.
- Mr. Holloway: Oh, you mean a twister?
- Hank: Yup, a big Texas-sized twister, I tell you what. Well, that dang twister sucked his boots plumb off. Well, you can't bury a man in his stocking feet, it's the cowboy code. So I gave him my boots. And that's the story of what happened to my boots.