Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

They'll kill us. Uh-uh. Empty.
opportunity to apologize for that racial slur.
Jesus Christ, I'm sorry!
Unless he got flung up into the blades somehow.
But come on, they gotta be roasting.
...if she promises never to do this again, maybe over a drink?
He's right here.
You call headquarters, you say an innocent Amer--
You need a helicopter.
Oh, shit, I forgot there's people in there. Cyril, open the door, idiot.
Yeah, looking right at you, Lupe.
Those documents are top secret.
She's not fine. She's at least got a concussion.
No shit.
...but let's, you know, deescalate the situation.
...and then it's, ha-ha, beep, and then somehow Pm the idiot.
...so you can monitor the police band-- And not to sound racist again...
We knew your strengths, and we also knew--
Although the appropriate thing would be to buy me a thank-you drink.
Yeah, because I'm not an id-- Oh, no.
...in the sunblasted shithole which is Texas...
Hey. Don't listen to him, you're beautiful.
Yeah, that'd do it.
Because hopefully you are with the
Whoa.
I bet at least three of these women are about to give birth.
Now, then, I believe there was some mention of a thank-you drink?
Ow! Apologize to my tinnitus.
But now I'm stuck with cat-puke green because you couldn't control Sterling.
But quit hogging the beads. I'm sure Marisol and Paz wanna pray.
Lana! Have you lost your mind?
...sent us to South Texas to capture an individual named Moreno.
Keep that coming. That was my boss's boss's boss.
Well? Well what?