Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Slow down!
Excuse me? Hi. I hate to bug you.
Can I get a PBA card?
Listen, better hold onto him.
Come on.
-This isn't the hat shop. -Over here.
Now, as we continue to move out further over the coral reef...
Voodoo Hoodo I Told you
This is your fault, you think of something for a change.
Yeah, I didn't think we were gonna be the carnival.
-I'll get the tickets. -All right.
His death certificate. From the New York authorities.
It's a problem but don't worry, I've got a plan.
-"Get up -"Get on up
Just put your left hand through. That's it.
You are in the power of the Mobu.
Your mother doesn't like you getting the sheets all sweaty.
Got it. We're okay. We're okay. We're not okay.
-Nice wind out there today. -Yeah, not bad.
-Yes, you are. -Okay. What now? 7:00?
-Guys! -Our troubles are over!
I don't buy it.
Get off! We're trying to fight.
Working.
I'd get some rest, if I were you.
That's Bernie Lomax. I'd recognize that smirk anywhere.
Let's go on in. Way to go, Beester.
Anybody with half a brain could have figured it out.
No, it's really not necessary.
I ain't joking. Look at him, he's dying. I believe.
Maybe it's one of those above-ground Caribbean cemeteries.
-Where are you going? -To have a good time.
Get him in.
Are you crazy? This is the most expensive restaurant in New York.
Where's the liquor?
Well, at least it's a chicken.
All right, here we go
I don't know, but doesn't she have some kind of power over us?
-Cash. -All right, we'll pay cash.
We needed him to get into the safety deposit box.
Come on.
Why not?
-Working out and eating, that's it. -That's right.
It's possible, but you have to believe in the magic in order for it to work.
What do we got to be all afraid of this Mobu woman for?
Will you be needing anything else, Mr. Lomax?
Wait. Couldn't you just save the grave robbing for later?
...I'd simply take some salt and sprinkle it over your feet like that.
Stick him on the can. Let's start all over again.
-Do you have the time? -Get out of the way!
There's things I gotta do before we go to the bank.
It beats losing a whole $1 million.
Very simpatico, in Bernie's case. You know what I mean?
-It's all my fault. -No, it's not.
-It hangs in his rear-view mirror. -Don't touch this.
-You're surprised. -No.
That's not fair.
We lit one hundred seventeen candles. They are burning.
What are you doing?
Come on, buddy.
You've seen the last of me. And I've seen the last of him.
Come on, B, get in there!
Whatever.
So, what are we gonna do now?
Come on, baby.
Don't you read the Post?
No, he's very, very shy.