Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

That ice-cream was dropped from a plane.
Oh, I don't. It's completely unscientific.
- My eyes? - Yeah, they're not sad enough.
- Now make a fist. - Uh-huh.
Gilligan, will you concentrate?
Skipper, my dad was real short I used to look down at him.
* The weather started getting rough *
Okay, Skipper. Let's try.
* Five passengers set sail that day *
Little buddy. Gilligan. Look.
Oh, that's the old pioneer stud, my dear.
[argument continues]
We were, until you started to be a party pooper.
Sure we will. Take off your shoes. Walk in a straight line.
- What's on your mind? - What's on your lip?
I'm making sure a hawk doesn't swoop down and carry me off.
I repeat, silly superstitions incocted by ignorant savages.
Somebody will step on it. Here hold these. Here.
* Uncharted desert isle *
- You. - Oh, Lovey.
When you're in trouble and need help. Who do you go to?
Oh, not a bit.
That's exactly right.
It wasn't your fault, Gilligan.
And don't get yourself lost like you did that jewel.
Well, any luck?
Every part of you feels calm
Yes, dear.
It's the other eye, Skipper. It's the other eye. The eye.
Oh, yeah, you're right. Okay, Skipper.
- You know who. - I know but tell me anyway.
You'd have your choice of leading ladies to pick from.
- What's that, Gilligan? - I have a shooting marble.
Timber.
Oh, it's almost an hour.
He's so unselfish. I think for a friend, he'd turn inside out.