Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I was thinking about it all last night.
The x-rays are back. It's a minor sprain. I'll see you at 8.
But for the sake of argument, what kind of night were you talking about?
...in hopes of improving the situation.
But then the seats wouldn't be together.
Okay. Just for the sake of argument?
He must not be able to speak English.
Well.
The uniforms turn the phony FBI guys into phony maintenance men...
Mr. Addison.
The important thing is, does she?
And if I go back out there, I ain't gonna be able to speak any English.
Come on, come on.
Maddie, I am really, really sorry.
David, I thought you had a plan.
-Where the purse? -I put it in one of these drawers.
Does he ever bite the heads off any small animals?
I'm sorry.
Knocked some sense into his head.
For his sake. Harder to hit a moving target.
...before I suggest a seventh-inning stretch.
You have reached the counterterrorism hot line.
You say, "I gave your tickets to somebody else named David Addison."
...representing the Soviet Union...
Okay. Who sent them?
...after having had the worst time short of a bone-marrow transplant?
-F. -F, F-- Wait a minute, wait a minute.
Talk to him, David.
The night is young.
He says, he's sorry.
The FBI is here to see you.
-Morning, Miss DiPesto. -Morning, Miss Hayes.
-It came from there. -It came from over there!
Afraid you can't pull it off?
What new plan?
Well, I'll certainly cooperate in any way I can...
"Let's see what happens."
David, listen to me. No, you don't.
...I expect the Russian pugilist will attack tenaciously...
...which in a few hours will cause an international incident.
What are the odds? You, me, here.
Maddie, great news.