Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I'm a father image to them.

He says he'll get me for alienation of affection, a breach of promise, a bigamy, fraud, and something called a trolley-nolley dictum.

Oh yes, well you see, every Christmas I burn all the widow's mortgages.

This is bound to be a proposal.

I just can't wait no longer.

Granny, are we going to Hooterville for Christmas?

I know this camera can't take no picture of the inside of that bear.

Oh, I can't control with these anymore.

You're a chicken, intern.

Try me on another one.

Maybe you can find out what he wrote.

Yeah, Dad, I don't feel like I'm imposing when I ask you to do it again.

Did you break up the employee demonstration?

He's all set to go to Hooterill.

I'm wondering what to pack.

You got me, you got Fairchild, and you got this beautiful present.

Now listen, you little goomer, you give me my letter, or you and me is gonna play cowboy and Indian, and the Indian is gonna win.

Now, Granny, before you get your hopes up too high, you reckon them fragrances could be on account of Sam writing his letters on butcher paper?

Sounds to me like it's you they want, Mr. Drydale.

Wait a minute, Jed.

Now turn on the switch.

We have two more love letters to mail to our fiancée, Jethro.

Oh, you enjoyed it, did you?

Well then they'll just have to take turns.

What do you mean?

I for sure ain't gonna hold down no drunk bear.