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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
There's a car with its lights out coming up the street.
Fred as president.
Just leave them there and let's scram.
- Of course, it's our only chance. - What are you talking about, Wilma?
Send up all those dresses I looked at last week.
- and it just dropped on my head? - You believed it, Fred.
I thought you said they couldn't follow our tracks.
But don't leave yet. I got a lot more to tell you.
For a minute, I thought I'd have to cash in my government bonds.
Wilma, have a heart, will you?
Help!
I'm all out of breath, Sarge. You be the siren for a while, while I drive.
I hope not.
Wilma, we've been in 10 dives already, but this is the worst-looking.
This is Wilma Flintstone.
from the war pictures on the Late, Late Show.
Our husbands swiped $86,000...
from the Rockville National Bank this morning...
I sort of went berserk.
No kidding. Oh, boy, what a dream.
Okay, lady, hand over the dough.
- It's the cops. - So what, Fred? We're not the crooks.
I got them all tied up like you said, Fingers. What should I do now?
This looks like a good place to hide, Barney.
No, Barney, you're not entitled to a cent.
For that you expect to be cut in? You are out of your lead-picking mind.
And some hats, Wilma. Don't skip the hats.
What happened?