Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

What the hell, Ian?

More like What day is it? Saturday, officially.

- I think I just came. - Fries too.

But then I'd miss the part where you take it up the ass from a teenage boy.

What didn't he take? Blaze-of-glory cocktail.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

I believe in a two-state solution.

The big fire. They couldn't ID shit.

The bride saw her fiancé on To Catch a Predator.

- Honeymoon suite? - Oh, you're gonna love it.

I can't believe you guys are getting a foster kid.

You work at a bakery and all you stole was bread?

For what? To jack off? Go home.

- Stuff the ice in his shirt. - Stop, enough.

Seventy-five hundred.

- Yeah, right there. - Hey. Put that right over there.

Mel Gibson was right!

- You could use the getaway. - Fuck you.

That's 24-karat gold. Best there is. Test it, you'll see.

Hey, I gotta leave in five minutes.

I never went home, and I never looked back.

Okay. Say goodbye, Liam.

Where the hell am I gonna get a Cessna?

What's the matter with you? Look at him, he's dead.

You two look like a couple of fags.

Jesus, I'm raising five kids, and I didn't miss last week.

Liam, where did you crawl off to?

Liam! Liam, come.

Wait, let me see those.

I can run out and replace whatever he took before she gets here.

Could I have your attention, please?