Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Hey, both of you, get out of here.
- He's in the shower. - In the shower.
No, no, it's yours, Hutch.
- John? - Yeah.
Where is he?
Well, it isn't. Unless somebody moved it in the last five minutes.
All right.
Just a minute.
I don't kill anybody that I don't get paid to kill.
Fifi, I'm gonna bust you in the mouth if you don't shut up!
Oh, sounds like the guy who sold my mother her Studebaker.
I need that address, and I need it now.
- I thought I was pretty convincing. - Oh, come on, sweetie.
After you've testified tomorrow, that will all be over.
If the city and state departments got along with the Feds, and vice versa...
Why's that, John?
So now you're an undercover narcotics agent?
I've never seen this man before in my life.
...I guess everybody back here thought I was dead.
Hutch, that's her.
Oh, well, someone stole her 1952 green and black Kaiser-Frazer...
Miss Crabtree?
...you don't boggle the mind with endings and such.
Speaking of rogas.
But not tonight.
... to kill Harvey Russo and Karpel.
- Run! - Shut up!
Yeah, right. Well, I get 10 percent of the finder's fee.
You're lucky the Feds didn't go to the commissioner...
Starsky?
...and she's convinced that it was a ring of professional car thieves.
Come on. Snap out of it.
- Let me give you a hand. - Oh, thank you.
Right, and now all of a sudden, the Feds...
Come here.