Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

There was nothing I could do.
JAKOV: You backstabbing, two-timing harlot.
Although, I do have 3 pounds of glass in my feet.
To your mother.
You remember that he shattered my femur, right?
Well, I guess maybe 1-in-3.
- You know what...? - Oh, and a bespoke Turnbull & Asser shirt.
Not Archer.
Hey, it's a versatile shoe. Works with a turtleneck, obviously, but...
What? Dukes. Unh!
- Yep. - Jesus. He give you the money?
- Aw, you think? - Yes, Barry, that's why I said it.
We've got guys in the KGB too, smarty.
Well, for starters, this.
[SPEAKS IN RUSSIAN]
Actually, I don't know what I was implying. I just said it.
No? Oh, you're more of a lace-up crowd, huh?
Use your imaginations. Make a soccer ball out of a dead cat.
I can't have this getting blabbed all over the agency, but...
Oh, I'm sorry, ex-fiancée. That's what I meant to say.
[LAUGHS]