Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Again!
Is he having a raugh?
-It's a shit sitcom. -It's a shit-com.
-You did my mum's guttering, didn't you? -Maybe, yeah. Where does she live?
-And you said, "My toes." -Oh, yeah. Ha!
As you know he's thinking of investing in us.
He's so depressed at being useless
He's changed his tune. Why....
I tell you who's not having a laugh, the public.
-You should've let me negotiate. -Your show's shit, mate.
-Walnut. -Hiya.
The man's running a business. The overheads are probably extortionate.
He sold his soul for a shot at fame
because one of the patients he was operating on
Now, I don't want you and your team mucking things up for me.
-Whistle! -Whistle. Yeah.
Ooh!
The little fat man who sold his soul
Both. Get both. Anyway, always nice to see you, mate.
-Can I call my mate Pete? -Why not?
60, then.
My mistake. Unbelievable.
Shouldn't really... No, I shouldn't really joke about it. It's not...
Oh, don't be daft.
-But that's what you told me to say. -Shut up.
-He never stops! -He never stops!
I'll never get over this. I'll just spend years and years
-I don't know. -You don't know if he asked you to say it?
Oh, good. I mean, do you want a hand?
-And this is Count Fuckula. -All right.
She wasn't a bad cook.
-Really? -Listen to this.