Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Come of it. I can fit. That's just an excuse.
As if they exist. They're the stuf of legends, like unicorns.
- I'll make you wear a dress. - Hmm?
- Do you like my cape? It comes with the job. - Wow, it's brilliant.
To the right. Now, come on, Tony. Get in step.
His friends were Nicholas, the tennis rat,
They're real people, real friends. Don't toss me aside for a silver cape.
All right. Keep your hair on. I'll do it.
I can't get up these stairs. What is this bullshit? I asked for a ramp.
Sounds good. What's it called?
- No. - No?
- I gotta go actually, cos you're a freak. - No, no! I didn't always used to be a freak.
I mean it man That is a beautiful cake
OK.
- Why not? - It's not a designated refuse area.
- This is a Joan Jett jump suit. I can't help ya. - Ah...
Hey, you like this cape, don't you?
Enough of this. Let us return to the matter of shamanic justice.
A fox came in? What is this? Beatrix Potter?
Argh!
Can I come in your house? You've been in my house.
- That is well rank. What's wrong with you? - It's my diet.
Cool. But can I say it was Michaela Strachan that I fancied?
Well, I'm powered up from juice of my own. The old electric soup.
He's on the shores of oblivion Kirk, if you can here us, simply nod.
- What? - Bludgeon my face in. Kill me.
Yeah they're good ain't they?
Look, I couldn't do that. These are new boots, they cost a lot of money. I'll see you around.