Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

[Keechie] I am a fraud.

But I know all about you.

-Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba. -Tell them I'm here.

thank you for coming.

♪ Knocks me on my knees ♪

Just give me a little time.

[Klaus shuddering]

No, Vanya, don't!

[whispers] ...jazz.

Otherwise, I gotta make a deal that I really don't wanna make.

How did you find me?

-Brown skin, glasses. -[Klaus grunts softly]

Most of them don't have families to go back to.

First of all, it's not a cult.

I heard a rumor you punched yourself in the face.

-Mmm. -I'm joining the military

[man 1] What do we got here?

[steam hissing]

I need an herbal bath.

[cries out, screams]

[cocktail shaker sloshing]

[Dave] Ha. Wrong.

I know that sometimes

-You and me both. -[announcer] G-47.

We're not circus animals, okay?

Okay? That's a song lyric by disco diva Gloria Gaynor,

...you get me and my family home.

Your favorite song is "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance."

But once every fiscal quarter, they get together for a board meeting.

-[shuddering gasps] -I think I was...

What's in it for you?

-I can handle it. -Handle it?

-[indistinct chatter] -[scissors snipping]

[Allison sighs softly]

I'm sorry, too.

All right. Screw it.

That's the deal.

[Handler] B-9...

I jumped too far forward,

-making it up as we... -[inaudible whispers]

-In the White House? -Yes.

You seem to be the sensible one of the bunch.

I don't understand.

No more bullshit. We're Team Zero.

You know, planting her in a psych ward,

-Hmm? -I found this pamphlet

I'd rather lick a cheese grater.

♪ Each year ♪

but I'm a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence.

Klaus can commune with the dead.

-I'm... I'm a... fraud! -[murmuring continues]

Yes, the grown-ups need to talk.