Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Well, have no fear.
A little rat called Sam the Collector.
That's right.
Hearing no objection, I'll permit your defense.
If that's the last I remember, Your Honor, those monsters crashing into us in an alcoholic stupor!
Why didn't you answer it?
I object, Your Honor!
Fall down in there?
Granny, supposin' you make some poultices for the Johnsons.
Swimming pools, movie stars.
Yes, Mr. Clavin?
Now, you may proceed, Mr. Clampett, realizing, of course, that you're still under oath to tell the truth.
And I'll whop up a great big dose of retchweed tonic.
Us?