No, Granny.

What's that, Granny?

Are you coming, Granny?

These bats don't bite, Granny.

Well, Granny, he's a coach.

Granny, how have you been?

What you mumbling about, Granny?

Well, let's simmer down, Granny.

Golfs ain't nothing like gophers, Granny.

The Beverly Hillbilly.

You don't eat off of it, Granny.

No, but I got some of their eggs, Granny.

Yeah, I promised Granny I'd bring her home something to cook tonight.

Here, have a piece of Granny's cornbread and put hair on your chest.

Now, you tell Granny that I don't know when we get back, but we'll bring her some fresh-cut greens.

Hillbilly, that is.

Well, no right to know, Granny, but they must be thicker than crows in a corn patch around here, because Mr. Drysdale says everybody in Beverly Hills shoots them.

Beverly Hills, puniest greens I ever did see.

A body can't find no greens in these Beverly Hills.

So they loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly Hills, that is.