Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Forget it, boy.
I've been holding this pose an awfully long time.
So don't be upset if you hear Mother tell a little white lie.
Well, you can count on us.
You don't have to tell me.
Dogs, they're sensitive to these things.
Ain't this a doozy, Uncle Jed?
Whisper to Mother.
Once your home is a municipal art center, the people of Beverly Hills are responsible for its maintenance.
Get out of my golf club.
Yes.
Oh, while I'm going, would you like to roll my rock around by the cement pond?
It's gonna make Ellie's look sick.
The people of Beverly Hills.
Do you mind if I take a break?
May I ask you a question?
Wait till she sees the one that I'm making.
Sure, everything's got to be scrub-board clean.
Filled with what?
Go ahead.
I'll be right back.
Take your shoes off.
My wife's been here?
I hadn't heard the clappers were moving.
What's that, Ellie?
Yes, ma'am?
He's a high muckety-muck when it comes to art.
In my condition, I'd never survive.
It slipped the ropes and rolled off the truck.
Should've left it on the truck, shouldn't I?
What was that?