Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

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