Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I feel kinda tired.
- I know what it is. - What?
I won't need my glasses much longer.
Now take your jackets off, please.
Say, Pop, cigarettes will kill you. Don't you believe me?
Pop, would you quit that! Now you're panicking.
No, that won't be necessary. I'll be with you in a moment.
Lean it against the chair here.
This is the big one (heart attack)! I'm coming to join you Elizabeth!
You burned my bed?
All right, fine. Why don't you have a seat right here...
- For what? - 'Cause they're killing you.
Why didn't you just burn the room?
I want to die in my own bed. Promise me you won't let 'em take me.
I'll get you for this! I'm gonna get you for this!
Open this door, you old buzzard! Open this...
Oh, Lamont, you're lookin' at a dead man.
Well, power to the people.
- You ain't got it. - You think so, huh?
- Would you put this in the safe for me? - What is it?
You done forced it on me.
I'm not supposed to tire myself out.
Do my cheeks look flushed?
- Thirty-one. - Thirty.
That'd be real nice, Pop.
Well, adios, old fellow.
- I ain't going in there. - Would you go in there.
Even Marcus Welby couldn't get him out.
- But I'm dying, Pop. - You ain't dying. You're a young fella.
Get in there!