Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

My dear guests, I am Mr. Roarke, your host.
Oh, my dear Peter.
Well, thank you very much.
Oh, uh, Tattoo, why don't you present Peter...
I found out what it was really like to be...
You're supposed to kill 'em, you faker!
Who's going to be the new marshal?
And, uh, you've given up hope for Miss Malone?
In fact, it's our best-selling fantasy.
People do have to be more important than things. I see that now.
Well, if they break the law here,
identifying you as one of the handful of royal princes left in the world.
It took me a long time, but I finally nailed 'em.
All is well that ends well.
with the royal scepter he'll be using during the weekend.
I really am. But, uh,
Explain it to her on the plane, Peter. You'll have plenty of time.
Yeah? What about?
Scepter? More like a fisherman's gaff.
Three days of being just an average, hardworking man.
You might be interested, then, in a cablegram I received this morning.
And two cans of peaches. Yes, sir.
With all his money, why does he need us for any fantasy?
[ Crowd Shouting, Murmuring ]
Would you permit it to be another way?
We've only been out a couple hours. You got blisters all over 'em.
How do I get there? You don't.
That's Burke. What's he doin' here?
The last time I saw him, he was no bigger than you.
What'd you do there?
Thank you.
Bye.
We didn't kill your partner, Burke.
There aren't any softhearted judges or liberal D.A.'s to take you off the hook.
I-I like the way you talk.
[ Laughs ] Wait a minute.
Everyone said you're gonna kill 'em.
Get up! Get up.