The Big Bang Theory

- And now the Kung Pao Chicken. - Yeah, smooth. Ha, ha.

And finally, my Moo Shu Pork.

Whoo-hoo!

There you have it, gentlemen. Our entire dinner unpacked by robot.

And it only took 28 minutes.

- Impressive, but we must be cautious. - Why?

Today, it's a Chinese-food-retrieval robot.

Tomorrow, it travels back in time and tries to kill Sarah Connor.

I don't think that's gonna happen, Sheldon.

No one ever does. That's why it happens.

Hey. Is the food here?

Ooh, what's that?

That, dear lady, is the Wolowitz Programmable Hand...

designed for extravehicular repairs on the International Space Station.

- Oh, cool. - Ask me to pass the soy sauce.

Oh, does that come up much on the Space Station?

Mostly with Asian and Jewish astronauts.

- All right, pass the soy sauce. - Coming up.

- So how's work? - Oh, It's not bad.

- Kind of hungry. - Yeah, we all are.

Just wait.

You realize, Penny, that the technology that went into this arm...

will one day make unskilled food servers such as yourself obsolete.

Really? They're gonna make a robot that spits on your hamburger?

I thought you broke up with her. Why is she here?

Okay, here we go. Passing the soy sauce.

Put out your hand.

- That's amazing. - I wouldn't say "amazing."

At best, it's a modest leap forward...

from the basic technology that gave us Country Bear Jamboree.

- Hey, Sheldon? Ahem. - Yes?

- Peace? - No, not peace. Hang on.

Does NASA know you're using that thing as a napkin holder?

Are you kidding? They still think it's in a secure locker at JPL.

- You stole it? - Borrowed.

The trick is to carry it out to your car like you own it.

Excuse me.

Oh, Amy's at the dry-cleaner's and she's made a very amusing pun.

Ahem. "I don't care for perchloroethylene and I don't like glycol ether."

Get it? She doesn't like glycol ether.

Sounds like "either."

"L_O_L.II

Who's Amy?

- His girlfriend. - Sheldon has a girlfriend?

- She's not my girlfriend. - How long?

- Four months. - She's not my girlfriend.

For four months I have been asking you what's new.

You never thought to go with "Sheldon has a girlfriend"?

- She's not my girlfriend. - Teh, teh, teh.

- How did they meet? - Raj and I entered Sheldon's information...

on a dating site and it spit out Amy Farrah Fowler.

Oh, my God! Sheldon and Amy.

Or as we call them, "Shamy."

Shamy. I am so digging the Shamy.

All right. Everyone, pay attention.

Yes, I have a friend named Amy Farrah Fowler.

Yes, she is female.

Yes, we communicate on a daily basis, but no, she is not my girlfriend.

Okay, well, what do you communicate about?

Well, my work in physics, her work in neurobiology...

and most recently, the possibility of our having a child together.

Thank you.

Wait a minute, a child? You never see this girl.

You just e-mail and text and Twitter...

and now you're considering having a baby?

Amy pointed out that between the two of us...

our genetic material has the potential of producing the first...

in a line of intellectually superior benign overlords...

to guide humanity to a brighter tomorrow.

I'm guessing that future historians will condemn us...

for not taking this opportunity to kill Sheldon.

- Okay. I have a question. - Yes, Penny.

You don't even like people touching you. How are you gonna have sex?

Why on earth would we have sex?

Oh, honey, did your mom not have the talk with you?

You know, when your private parts started growing?

I'm quite aware of the way humans usually reproduce...

which is messy, unsanitary...

and based on living next to you for three years...

involves loud and unnecessary appeals to a deity.

- Oh, God. - Yes, exactly.

Consequently, if Amy and I choose to bring new life into this world...

it will be accomplished clinically...

with fertility experts in a lab with Petri dishes.

Which reminds me, you have broad hips and a certain corn-fed vigor.

Is your womb available for rental?

Still digging the Shamy?

Look, Sheldon, before you race off to the fertility clinic...

you might wanna think about...

gee, I don't know, maybe actually spending some time with her.

- You mean dating? - Yeah.

- I can't date Amy. - Why not?

She's not my girlfriend.

Don't think of it as dating a girlfriend.

Think of it as, uh, getting to know the future mother of your child.

Oh.

I hadn't considered that.

I suppose she will have to have access to our progeny.

And you don't think I can achieve the required intimacy via text messaging?

- Probably not. - Hmm.

It would appear as if the phone companies have been lying to me.

Penny. Penny. Penny.

You do realize I stand on the other side of the door...

waiting for you to finish knocking three times.

I know. I can see the shadow of your feet under the door.

Yeah. My point is it's a waste of time.

If you're looking for an example of a waste of time...

would refer you to the conversation we're having right now.

- What do you want? - I've decided to take your advice...

and have arranged to go on a date with Amy Farrah Fowler.

- Oh, that's great. Have fun. - Wait. You have to drive me.

- What? - You know I don't drive.

- Well, go ask Leonard. - I did.

He said, and I quote, "Ask Penny. It was her cockamamie idea."

Leonard said "cockamamie"?

Actually, I'm paraphrasing. Having been raised in a Christian household...

I'm uncomfortable with the language he used.

And to be honest, I'm not entirely comfortable with "cockamamie."

Okay, fine. When's the date?

- Now. - Now?

Hurry, we're going to be late.

Sheldon, did it ever occur to you that I might have other plans?

I'm sorry. Do you have other plans?

Well, no, not per se, but...

And so this conversation is as pointless as your door-knocking soliloquy?

Let me get my cockamamie keys.

Oh, God, that feels so good.

Yeah, that's the spot. Oh, baby.

Howard, dinner's ready!

I'll eat later, I'm busy!

Oh, yeah. Just like a real hand.

Hmm.

- Thank you for driving me. - You're welcome.

I wish you weren't wearing flip-flops. Dangerous to drive in flip-flops.

- Sheldon. - Sorry.

I just don't wanna be yet another flip-flop fatality.

Can I ask you a question?

Given your community-college education...

I encourage you to ask me as many as possible.

Yeah, ahem, well, my question is, and I'm pretty sure I know the answer...

Is this your first date?

That depends.

Does square dancing with my sister...

at a Teens for Jesus Fourth of July hoedown count as a date?

- No. - Then this is my first date.

Okay, well, then there's a couple of things you should probably know.

I have a master's degree and two doctorates.

The things I should know, I do know.

My point is, I know more about dating than you...

and if you were as smart as you think you are, you would listen to me.

If you know so much, how come I have a date tonight...

and you have nothing better to do than drive me to it?

Fair point.

You know, there's something I've always wondered about Aquaman.

- Yeah? - Where does he poop?

- What? - What would a toilet look like in Atlantis?

How would you flush it? And when you did flush it...

where would the poop go?

Hold that thought.

Hey, Howard, what's going on?

Wha...? Hold on. Howard. Howard, slow down.

The robot hand is stuck on your what?

You're not gonna believe this.

So, um, Amy, Sheldon tells me you're a neuro-something-or-other.

Neurobiologist.

Your "check engine" light is on.

Yeah, it's okay.

- But the light indicates... - Don't bother.

I've wasted many an hour tilting at that particular windmill.

What is that scent you're wearing? It smells great.

Dandruff shampoo.

I have dry scalp.

Ah, well, your hair looks very nice.