Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

This actuarial table stops at age 99...
- Well... - I was fired, Schmidt.
Please. You work in a bar. It's a whole different thing.
So yeah, my job pretty much rules.
FIFE: Moo! ALL: Ha, ha!
Ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at a brand-new man.
Like where your head's at. We'll be there with bells on.
[SIGHS]
I've never been an inspiration before. I don't like it, it's too much responsibility.
Minus one year if your chosen field offers few opportunities for advancement. Check.
Jess, what the hell was that?
Constipated. I'm constipated.
...and they're the future of humanity.
- Are you limping? - My hip is achy.
- I don't know, drivers ed, CPR. - Oh, God.
SCHMIDT: Thank you.
[MAN SPEAKING IN LOW VOLUME ON TV]
Look at this. I'm freaking shrinking!
Hi, Schmidt.
Take it down a notch before this old man takes you out, makes you pick a switch.
[PEOPLE CHATTERING]
[IN NORMAL VOICE] It's Urkel! - Urkel?
- Say that one more time. - Oh.
Don't wear Old Spice.
Nick picked them up from the dry-cleaner for me today and I swear they seem longer.
Shoot, Gran Torino.