Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

TRINETTE: What? - Breast cancer. And, yes, seriously.
WOODHOUSE: Archer residence. - So the thing is, Lana... Here's the thing...
- Yeah, where were you? - The cafeteria.
Nothing came out of my fucking asshole Now get the fuck out of my damn way, bitch
Well **** your dolphin, pam
Hey, can you not? Right now?
I did your cancer surgery like two hours ago?
I mean, you know. I drink socially
I don't have breast cancer.
Everybody, say hello to my friend Chet Manley.
- I'm not, I swear. This is about... - Breast cancer? Oh, you poor thing.
A what? That... What are you...? I don't have one of those.
- Prepaid, huh? - Yes, sir.
Aww, Goatley.
Not yours, shitbrain. His.
How about I slip somebody 100 bucks to throw acid in your face?
Yeah? Well I hope I don't!
What the shit!!!!!
I meant the first phone call.
I spent last night in the Tombs getting worked over by the cops.
Talk about a downer double whammy, huh?
Still too soon.
- I don't wanna use one... - Yes.
But it turns out I was right the first time …When I said the courses were cancelled
And now Mr. Archer is...
.
- Dr. Spelts? - Uh...
[SOBBING]
Too soon?
- Ass. - That's the good news.
...and Dicky and I have been planning this trip ever since, and...
- Right? - You can't tattoo a freaking baby.