Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Are you really, really sure?
One of us!
So if you must leave in a kind of a scramble,
Or we both die.
(electrical crackling, bird squawks)
With the dignity expected
(gasps)
But I'm in the best shape anyone is in the 1930s.
You killed burnsum!
You're all stuck with that.
Go grab all his money and vodka and gin.
I, uh, better freshen up a little bit.
(doorbell rings)
(humming)
She gave it to me on her deathbed.
Hmm? What are you doing?
I don't hand out candy, you son of a gritch.
Get back out there with your flippers flapping,
(playing "when the saints go marching in")
(snores)
Tear off his drumsticks!
That the human snail is, in some way, slow.
Sleep well, lis.
(humming)
Bart: And we looked and we saw him...
I finally get my man cave.
Democratisation of the thread