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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Mr. Stratton, I have Mr. Archer.
Yeah, right? Okay, so Ray.
I'm going to go home, kiss my wife goodbye,
I know, Cyril, but think of the alternative. His hands are tied.
No, I guess they-- but I can't, um--
because that winter I was in the hospital for five weeks.
Hey, Swirling!
Where even is the safe? Dammit...
Cyril, c'mon.
Oh, well... Really?
You're a cuckolding thief, and between us, clearly an alcoholic.
After a brief stint as a drug dealer.
Recommendation letter. Got it. Shut up!
I can explain.
Yep. We were just merciless.
From St. Josh!
Fighting somebody bigger and stronger than you? Crazy, right?
What case? What are you talking about? And why wasn't I informed?
Oh, huh-uh, you don't get to take the easy way out, Ivy.
That sounds like a really bad idea.
And yes, yes, dude, I will pay you,
Stalking? It's just hamentashen!
to describe something, what are they--
No, hair joke. Something about braids?
Well?
Ahh. Oof.
Why were you killing anybody?
Not to kill him? That's extortion!
What the-- Whitney?
Oh.
I'm sorry, what-what's happening?
Yeah, okay, sure, glad to help.
You were going to murder me 'cause I picked on you a little bit?
Would-be murder victim!
What're we doing? Um, I think Whitney
Me what?
He's an alcoholic. He didn't know
I guess, what, mulatto bastard?