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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

There's no challenge.
I want to show them the new restaurant Mr. Drysdale got me.
He's probably got his hands full taking care of paying customers.
He's on the leash, and she cranks the organ.
That's the third set of hinges he's going through this week.
Don't worry, ma'am.
I sure don't want to show up there with a bunch of beat-up old junk like that.
That's enough now.
Forget it!
There's a smell of perfume in the air.
Like they say, clothes makes the fry cook.
You've got a beautiful little spot here, loaded with atmosphere.
Oh!
It was a good thing we decided to happen by.
Well, I tried putting it in my boot, but it made me walk lopsided.
Don't ask.
How come?
Come out here and get ready for some good eating.
I'd like to use your telephone.
There goes your dinner, Jed.
I'll knock you off!
What?
Oh, hold on.
The Beverly Hillbilly.
I ain't had nothing to eat since breakfast but a few bananas.
It is?
Howdy, Mr. Drysdale.
I can't go to be medium rare by now.
Wow!
Couldn't we save this talk till after, Vittles?
Now Bessie's sure upset.
I'm the owner.
How they really get here is where the birds and the bees come in.
I ain't got one here.
Now, I ain't even sure you ought to be let out of the house.
Back in the jiffy.
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