Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Ohh.
sort of cement brothel, my love.
of our financial affairs.
Dear Alastair,
Oh, Jock...
Whom exactly?
high-tension car battery.
steal the painting from Bronwen.
Get on that ladder!
and I'm trying to stop him.
I do believe it was Maggie Thatcher
In addition to being my manservant and thug,
Oh, my dear, I'm so tired. And so married and so tired.
Can you imagine the two of us
MORTDECAI: As you may well know, I am many things.
Johnson!
Oh, how I long for the rain and indifference of Europe.
- Oh, don't do that! - For heaven's sake.
And is the legend true?
Shall we start the bidding at 100,000 pounds?
Go to the Colonies? Me??
This may be a customary greeting in America.
To what do I owe the pleasure?
She's got prominent lips like me...
We must secure the painting,
Mmm... (URINATING)
Send your camel to bed, damn it!
Oh, dash it all, Jock, man, your hand!
Mmm.
I paid three million for that tapestry,
(GROANING)
or I'll have the magistrate open that file
Two hundred. Very good. Do we have three?
The Duchess of Wellington.
A child! She spawned a child!
releasing a fart
Twenty-five million.
he will kill us and simply take it instead.
No one knows the filthy underside
(INHALES)
Oh, I don't like that. I don't like it.
Get back behind the tape!
I don't like it!
(KNOCK ON DOOR)
Who is this woman Mortdecai and what does she want? Hmm?
(CHUCKLES) Yes. Where is the Goya?
Who's the client?
and I'm here, it's time for you and I to talk turkey.
Hello...
(CHUCKLES) Not nearly.
(RINGING)
We'll have your things sent over from the hotel.
Dad! What the hell are you doing?
Oh, Alastair. It's so lovely. Do come back.
All right. That gives us six...
(BOTH GAGGING)
and the secret bank accounts along with it.
Yes, but someone found out about the plan,
the guest bedroom for Mr. Mortdecai?
and now Bronwen is as stiff as my Uncle Richard's hatband.
Bollocks.
You owe me.
That is a superb Hulihee sans sideburn,
I see.
The truth is nice, but a rumor is priceless.
goin' on five years now.
Vladimir, please to take Mr. Mortdecai's trousers down.
eight million in back taxes.
Anything will do, I thank you.
You know I'm not interested in your flaccid Sheridan.
- One second. - (STOMACH CONTINUES GRUMBLING)
A client with a mild curiosity, that's all.
Because I have a question for you, old bean.
to another of our embassies for help
No, I can't understand a word she says.
Fernand Just Quignon's Lavender Field.
Ahh!
and this little bit of magic
The sale of your Rolls-Royce to Krampf
Which I am sorry to report has been...
(BOTH SCREAMING)
Yeah, like I told the lady earlier today,
Do you mean you are ready?
(GRAHAM GASPS)
an admirable job stomping all over the place.
- (GUNFIRE) - MORTDECAI: Oh, dear!
Proceed.
and retrieving a certain something in the process.
Finally!
You served in the War then, Your Grace?
An arts dealer, an accomplished fencer,
Well, that's what Emil's after.
(DOOR BUZZING)
a pair of rather flashy Varleys
(STAMMERING) What makes you think I have it?
President Trump?
Creates quite a market when a painting
Jockie,
Right you are, sir.
Now, tell me about that tramp on the horse.
Oh, really, why? Why?
when she discovered the Goya,
One million pounds.
Oh, and poor Spinoza...
But why does everyone seem to think...
to sell off some of my prized possessions.
of some of my more unseemly escapades.
cheap, leather encasement, just like on telly?
Oh... (LAUGHS)
Fundamentalist, revolutionary, trained in Syria,
But I watched it burn.
Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear...
500, ladies and gentlemen.
Oh!