Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

They bloody are, you know.
no bugger robs pipes in the buff.
- You can't just take stuff. - Sorry, mate.
It's all right, Nathan. It's right, is this. I've seen 'em do it.
Shit!
- All of 'em? - Well, yeah. I think so.
Strippers?
Does not care over Chloe, huh, Tusks? Canjorie?
- What's up? Are you shy? - Don't! Shut it, all right?
And you wouldn't say to me,
He knows me. He plastered our bathroom a while back.
I try dieting.
- Look! Who's that? - It's that guy!
- You're ahead. - Oh, go... bollocks!
What's all this about sole custody?
Ten quid to watch some fucking poof get his kit off! Ten quid!
Can fellas use this an' all?
Do you need a hand?
10,000 quid.
three, four. Now the socks...
Big man.
Women only, you tosser!
- What if we get caught? - You don't get a record till you're 16.
after such a long lay-off, do you think you're up to the job?
A.J., It's not that type, really. Ellie, Your dad's doctor.
That'll be for t'court to decide.
No, nobody told me.
One, two, three, four.
Maybe I should.
Don't they?
Come on, come on! Come on, come on!
- What are you doing out here, kid? - Nov-vi. Walking home.
He's got the hump about Asda.
Think of Jean's face when she sees you dancing like Flashdance.
Gary Schofield.
No. Not doing it.
You got any work?
No, look. .. I know it don't look good.
Perhaps you better had.
She's miles away! See you later. Good luck.
- Bastard! - Fucking hell!
- I've come to pick up my son. - Oh, right...
Course he bloody does! Ask him!
£100, please.
Stay still, stay still.
You never know, there might be a job in it for you boys.
We could try and sneak into Man U. Terry said...
I can cope with losing the sunbed.
Dave!
we're doing it right.
They're gonna be looking at us like that.
Nathan!
Anyway, it's like clingfilm.
What happened to the security guard?
No.
'Ey, now, Dave, I mean... It's worth a thought, though, innit?
No, thank you.
What do you want now? I told you, I'm finished with you.
Yeah, I got that. If that's what you call it.
Come on, Dave! It's not for me, it's a funeral!
He's not coming.
Left touchline, three, four.
Two weeks. That's what the man said, and he's not taking the piss.
Do you think he might, though?
No. No way.
Take a long hard look in the mirror.
We can do without him.
I'm ont' dole, in case you hadn't noticed!
I didn't go on the nick in Asda for some chuffing women's DIY video.
You can't hardly see t'join.
22... 27 pence.
I got a stiffy!
- You wrap it round, reduce the fat... - She swears by it!
I want the application letters finished by the time I get back.
Brilliant, aren't they?
Jean would.
- Someone's got a sunbed, Gerald! - It's Linda's, and no, you bloody can't!
Find Auntie Jean and tell her Uncle Dave wants a word outside.
It's a bit late for all that, Gaz. I mean...
It's for your gnomes, really. Not you.