Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Cover me, as it were?

Jockie, thank heavens! Where have you been, man?

Your bags have been packed and checked,

You bloody chicken, bloody monkey,

Thirty-five thousand pounds.

Multiple attacks over the years to come,

gets interesting, you see.

The rooms here are made of cement.

I believe a finger would be fair. Don't you?

During the War. Nazi bastards.

And myself sleeping alone.

I feel simply awful, man, but I must get to the auction.

by growing that horrible moustache.

Man down! Man down!

Creates quite a market when a painting

But instead it was stolen and secreted away.

- Right you are, sir. - Right.

with a failed poet! Oh!

Give me the painting!

Do you think that Jockie will stay on

I do recall a vague memory of her having once,

Is there a purpose to your presence?

Would you really do that for me?

But never an outright mountebank.

I think this woman has need of a chiropractor.

Some warmed blinis, creme fraiche,

Jockie! Advise?

he reached underneath for the big decanter,

How do you think this makes me feel, man?

Untold riches and all that, what?

Will it be all right in the end?

I'm unable to steer my mind away from it.

It was not from a child, it was from him.

Because I want, I will have.

The file was fat and well-handled,

to look at his John Thomas.

Keep the Englishman busy. I create distraction.

Open your balls?

And the Ambassador's residence.

Go to your room, right now. It’s spanked. But I didn’t do it yet.

fair shot with most weapons.

My love, surely you recall

all this mess on your own, now, would it?

You dare to cast aspersions?

Garnished by Her Majesty's government

- Johanna, do you... - Oh!

I shan't! What does that even mean?

We need eight million.

It's a privilege sir!

It looked like you have a vagina on your face.

We are going to enter the Goya into the auction,

boiled egg whites,

that moustache of the Prophet?

Is it that you actually know and don't want to tell me?

will offer you a perfect cover.

Yes, well, that is where the story

It's all right, sir. It's all right.

Of all sad words of tongue or pen,

What the situation requires now

You really are a cut above!

Inspector Alastair Martland.

Where is Mortdecai?

I wasn't going to.

Or was it Agamemnon?

The woman bred! What an odious thought.

I don't like it!

and I called Spinoza, and then he arranged for everything,

Well, have it your way, Fang.

cheap, leather encasement, just like on telly?

and unreservedly offer my deepest...

my immediate self-defenestration.

Hello, Sir Graham, you old member.

Sir, you`re staring at your Liquor!

I sunk into an uneasy slumber,

- And, Jock? - Yes, sir?

- Mmm. - Don't imbibe the crime scene.

The Duchess pops up again in France in 1943,

I understand you were close with Bronwen Fellworthy.

Yes, do. Do think.

- You have it? - Go!

I feel that I could share anything with you.