Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

BOY: Assholes!
Come to D. C. and I can make you a believer
KIRBY: Are you having fun? THOMAS: Yeah, I'm having a good time.
COSTA: Come on, get the fuck out of here! Move! - Come on!
Yep, all good.
- Don't want you to sweat anything. THOMAS: Thank you so much.
THOMAS: Yo, what's up, bro?
(ALL LAUGHING)
BOY 2: That's him.
Chaos has spread to the streets.
We just wanted to call one last time before going to bed...
- Yeah, it's... Don't worry MILES: Let's go.
"it's a little too loud," and I'll be like, "I'll tell them to keep it down." You know how it goes?
(CROWD CHEERING)
Fuck, hey, stop, seriously.
- Nice to see you. - How are you doing? Everything copacetic?
COSTA: What up, baby girl?
(DOORBELL RINGS)
You gonna be okay, man?
J.B.: Wow, dude, this is fucking... THOMAS: I can't believe it fucking worked.
Oh, please, stop it. Come on, honey. He's 17 years old.
COSTA: Of course, bro, we got your back.
THOMAS: Dude, this is way more than 50 people.
Law enforcement currently on scene.
COSTA: There he is. This is Everett and his boy Tyler.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHING)
Yeah! That's my boys! Suck my dick, Robert! Suck my fucking dick!
ko
OFFICER: In need of immediate assistance.
You got a blowjob from his mom?
...I'd really like to spend it with just you.
Jump! Jump! Jump!
No, it's not all good, okay? I mean, what about this? What if my parents see it?
(INAUDIBLE DIALOGUE)
Nasty, kid
I'm gonna go home...
THOMAS: I hear him here.
Here we go. Paxson for three.
Oh, my God. Thomas?
What was that? Thomas?
(INAUDIBLE DIALOGUE)
Pfft. A lot of people don't know this simple fact, but this is actually...
Why don't we bring everyone to the back, lower the volume?
COSTA: There's two more fucking points right there! It's all around you.
(DJ PLAYING HIP HOP BEAT)
(SINGING) Everybody in the club gettin' tipsy
I don't know how to fix any of this shit.
ALL (SINGING): Happy birthday to you
- Yes. - You look pretty fucked up.
DAD: Happy birthday, Thomas. - Whoo! Yay!
You're really starting to fucking scare me.
COSTA: Shut up, Kirby. You're killing my concentration right now.
J.B.: Oh, my God!
Here, let me...
(GIRLS SCREAMING)
COSTA: I knew it. You're bitching out. THOMAS: What?
It's out of control.
You can go too, Dax.
Up high! Come on, dude, right here. Yeah!
You're a fucking champion.
Your parents give the worst gifts ever.
...through a private residence without permission?
COSTA: I love this kid. - You know it.
REPORTER 2: Police are now firing rubber bullets.
J.B.: Jesus, all those chicks are really hot.
Guys, this isn't a request. The party's over.
This shit's gonna be legit. You should swing by.
COSTA: Dude, what the fuck are you doing?
(RAPPING) Yeah Hey, Thomas
THOMAS: Kirby.
Wait, what the fuck is he talking about?
COSTA: You freshmen? - Yeah.
(CELL PHONE VIBRATING)
Hey girls just remember wear something Red
(OVER SPEAKERS) Nothing like black pussy on my dick
Where my ring and my confetti? I'm Kobe Bryant ready
COSTA: Of course it is, it's plus-one.
Holy shit.
I got Ray-Ban vision
(THOMAS LAUGHS)
Oh, shit. Extra-large condoms. I'm not paying for that shit.
...but this is too much.
Dax.
- There's really nothing to talk about. - Wait. Please, can I just explain?
(PEOPLE SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)
COSTA: J.B., drop those bags. We got work to do.
Not a madhouse, just gonna be a fun, decent-sized party.
All right, well, I'll get your stuff. Here, stoke up the fires, buddy.
My life right now, it's totally ruined.
I'm talking about, they trashed the neighborhood. They trashed the house.
KIRBY: What is it?
- Men's Wearhouse. - Men's Wearhouse? Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.
"Technically the law states..." Damn Internet.
OFFICER 8: Yeah. Now. Take the shot!
See, the kid's a pro. We got nothing to worry about.