Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I'm going to Reno, you're going to consent and that's the end of this.
You're drunk.
First they're cleaning the carpets, now they're not.
Damn it, Whitman, this is a cooperative.
And you loved it.
- So we're all gone. - Sterling, I don't know.
- Really? Why? - Because we don't want to go to McCann.
Calm down.
No more.
Shut the door. Sit down.
- Who? - Jesus.
12% above our purchase price.
A bunch of accountants trying make $1 into $1.10?
What did we do?
You just assume I'll do whatever you say...
That's going. You say things and you don't mean them.
It's as fair a shake as we could get, considering that
Conrad Hilton told me this morning.
You wanted my account, and you were lucky to get it.
You know that?
Happy Birthday!
Everyone thinks you do all my work.
And although that's, let's see, $23 million in Billings--
Listen, betts, I want you to know I'm not going to fight you.
All that short-term thinking.
Very good, happy Christmas!
And yes, we want your accounts, but we also want your talent.
- You do now. - I do.
Maybe you need to see a doctor-- A good one this time.
That's not what I mean.
Media will be in the bedroom with the television.
That's good thinking, but we don't know where anything is.
They play golf,
I'll sell. I'll sell my crop for nothing.