Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Crazy stuff. Square hula hoops. Stringless yo-yos.
So I took it home and I counted it.
I kept thinking about our little chit-chat yesterday, so I came in early.
Yes.
...that ketchup and mustard come in for people that can't find a shot glass.
-An inquiry? -An inquiry.
-Excuse me? Richard...
Davie and Richie. I never even knew you had a brother.
I'm confused. -Found that out, huh?
-A customer? -A customer. That woman on the phone.
Do you like this place?
Richard! David!
Tell me you understand.
Come here. Check out your merchandise.
-I'm not speaking to you. -Yes, you are, I just heard you.
-Just the two of you? -It went fine.
Looks to me like you wanna spend my money.
Between what I owe in payroll taxes and personal taxes...
-Mr. Navarone? -Yeah.
It turns out there was a reward for the safe return of Mr. Navarone.
Okay, dear brother, Mr. Success--
We're sitting on a money machine. We just gotta figure out how to turn it on.
Damn right. Some guy forgot to lift up the lid. I hate that.
So he think and he think And he thunk and he thunk
-Hello. -Hello?
Doesn't sound like you at all.
He used to be fat And he used to be poor
Mrs. Middleman? Lives in Pacoima.
Some kind of madness. Obviously, isn't hereditary.
I thought of him as Mom and Dad's science project.
Now, what say we step through these coats...
Just for being the 22nd caller to get through on our boogie line.
-Look at this, there's got to be-- Thirty-seven thousand dollars.
"Why don't we open earlier and close a little later?"
...he'll tell you. The folks always liked me better.
-Good morning. -Morning.
-He followed me from Philly. -Who?
Sixty minutes long. And we're a minute short.
Mrs. Middleman, I don't care if I have to look under every woman in L.A.