Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

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

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

Oh, I can't control with these anymore.

He's all set to go to Hooterill.

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?

This is bound to be a proposal.

Well then they'll just have to take turns.

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

What do you mean?

Wait a minute, Jed.

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

Granny, are we going to Hooterville for Christmas?

Try me on another one.

I'm a father image to them.

I'm wondering what to pack.

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

I just can't wait no longer.

Did you break up the employee demonstration?

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

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

Maybe you can find out what he wrote.

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

Now turn on the switch.

Oh, you enjoyed it, did you?

You're a chicken, intern.

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.