Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

So, uh, where's your band?
Are you nuts?
He can't look anywhere without being reminded of Maude.
and of course, Freon so cold it burns me.
You're our foreman, Maude.
Any religion that embraces carob is, uh, not for Carl Carlson.
I didn't have a crush on her.
He can't admit he likes her till he's sure she likes him back.
No, I don't mind, but my greenback stack's gettin' kind of slack.
You can have these, uh, fireworks I confiscated.
- There's nothing here. - Exactly.
All you do is change "Jesus" to "baby."
Ah, ah!
Lay some heaven on me, foxy dead chick.
visions, miracles or other godly hoo-ha.
Ned, I'm worried about you. You've been working nonstop for the past week.
Christ be with you!
Nah, I'm just screwin' with ya. It's a miracle.
How about that? It says "Maude."
You're doing that the sucker way.
This sawdust'll soak up the puke from the roller coaster.
I see.
Well, Maude, your dream has finally come true.
Oh, my. The room looks so bare.