Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

How did we end up like this?
Can't help it.
...Detective Hutchinson, the truth of the matter is...
Hey, remember those jewellery robberies last year?
- I need chips. - That's what I'm here for.
Now, Rankin doesn't have that many friends.
No money in there.
Yes, Mr. White?
After that, I'll be back here.
Vic Rankin sent me to talk about a trade.
Get me a coffee, black with sugar, okay?
What would you know about it?
- Lf that's all, gentlemen... - Yeah, that's all. Thanks a lot.
- Belinda Williams. - Belinda Williams?
No. He couldn't have gotten far.
But listen, guys, no kidding, thank you for getting him this job.
She used to sing with Vic a few years ago.
Twelve years is long enough to ride any losing streak.
We covered the streets.
All right, get out of here. She's on her way out, Vic.
- Hey, relax. - Don't worry, huh?
You're sure it was Rankin?
Remember that flyer sent by the Treasury Department?
If we get lucky, maybe we'll find something else too.
We ought to bury him.
Starsky, shut up.
...you're gonna have to do business with the tooth fairy.
Dental clinic?
...for letting that $2000 get out before they were ready.
"Be true to your teeth, and they'll never be false to you."
- They are terrific. - Yeah.
I've really made a fool of myself this time.
- The one with a flat tire. - That ain't got no flat tire.
I better not find out you're lying to me, Mrs. Rankin.
Sorry, Vic, I'm afraid Mr. White ain't gonna have...
Well, what are you looking at?
Carnival?
Spaceman Sam Carter.
Who's the goon?