Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Looks like we're not gonna get the chance. Just as well, I don't have any money.
Saddam's chemicals made him freakishly large.
Sixty and six, sixty-seven, sixty-eight, nine...
They're taking out that yield sign by the Ethan Allen.
Mr. Hill, you're late.
- Don't blow our budget, Hank. Use that. - Particle board?
[Toilet flushing]
"The Futility of War."
Dad!
Thems is rich pot.
In my capacity as float committee chairman...
It's my car now.
Didi and the baby love it there, too. Ain't that right, wife?
- Here. - What the cussburg!
- What happened to Lucky? - Dead!
[Men snickering softly]
COTTON: Stand on your tiptoes, Didi woman.