Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Neither would I.
- Fred wouldn't cheat his best friends. - Yeah, all right. I'm sorry, Betty.
I must live right...
Keep tossing, Barney.
One year, I was in the spring play at Public School 158.
We wouldn't trust you out there for one minute.
No, nobody would do this to me.
My feet are killing me.
Hey, who wants to eat meatballs? I'm trying to eat from meatball ever!
If either one of them win, we split the prize between us, right?
So Wilma and I decided the only fair thing to do is toss for it.
Yeah. Surrounded by all those starlets.
Honest, Fred, I can't go. I'm writing a letter to Betty.
Do you think I'm made of money or something?
Betty Rubble! Are you out of your mind?
For what I've been thinking of you the last few days.
This part calls for a real woman. A real wife.
no matter what my psychiatrist says.
That sounds fair.
- Come on, Barney, let's go. - What?
I got it. It just might work.
Come on, you two.
And we'll have to get an autograph book.
while our poor husbands are back home slaving away.
Look, Betty. There's Fred and the producer.
Barney, you're a pal.