Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

A ruthless minority of people...

of information retrieval charges.

Ready? One, two, three.

-Snip, snip, slice, slice. -It's marvelous.

But we'll get one.

Now, either you plead guilty...

Wonderful. Marvelous.

You know, it being Christmas and all.

# We stood beneath an amber moon... #

I suppose you'd rather have terrorists.

That's brilliant, Sam.

I need to find out about a woman.

"He did it all, and infinitely more.

Personnel transporter? What?

-I knew there was something different. -Remember how they used to stick out?

"and the standing within the community of the Department of Information Retrieval;

We'll be back, you clever little bastard!

Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Mother! Mother!

Send that up to Security. Anyway, tidy it up, Lowry.

-Go on. -Right.

Can I have a look? I've never seen a refund check before.

I've come to give you a check.

-Oh, God, don't worry about that. -No, but if they did promote you, uh...

I'm really just delivering the check.

He hadn't done anything.

Father Christmas can't come if we haven't got a chimney.

What's happened to my flat?

-I'm Holly. -Sorry, love. So you are.

Tell them no. Tell them yes.

Well done, men. Quick thinking.

If you hold out too long, you could jeopardize your credit rating.

-That's it. Over there, love. -Terrorist?

Here, authorize the check. What's the address?

Oh, shit. They're coming.

Jill Layton is dead.

But, um... Hello.

Well, they're a little overworked these days.

Well, that's awful.

Sam, picture me in these.

I don't want promotion. I'm happy where I am.

Look, sir, you can fill in an application form, sir, if you're a relative.

Information Transit got the wrong man.

Oh, God, Mother, is that you?

It's... Well...

Don't worry. I'll get to her.

Would you like to be surgeon general?

I don't know, sir. They check all that at the depot.

No, no. There's no stamp on it, you see.

And I keep his name alive at the office every day.

and bounding about like a young gazelle.

-Ho! Ho! -We're Department of Works!

Hello. Mr. Lowry.

They sent me here. They said you have a form I need to fill out.

It's my lunch hour.

Are you telling me that this is illegal?

-Thanks, Jack. -Are you settling in all right?

They don't take kindly to sabotage.

I'm going to have a number eight, please.

-You noticed. -You have to say the number!

No, no. Buttle. I mean Buttle.

And I'm arresting you as a...

It's okay, Officer. Thank you. It's okay. Got everything under control. Thank you.

-I haven't got an emergency! -Yeah?

Don't you want the lift?

I saved you from the lorry. You're not something "very special."

-You've started your treatment. -Say the number, please.

All I can say is, don't fall at the last fence, the finishing post in sight.

No, sir. I'm going to have to fill in a report on this.

Machines don't fix themselves.