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