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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Fetch a policeman. Fetch a policeman.
...divided by the supersonic equation.
Jane, his wife
Hold it. Hold it, everybody.
...a fried egg capsule, a chicken chow mein pill.
It's the billionth rerun of The Flintstones.
Big guy. Two little guys.
Coffee? Coming up.
I was hoping we'd be welcome.
Maybe this will teach my folks to believe me.
Sorry, it was unanimous. This is the end of the line.
Yeah. Well, I'm hungry.
That's very touching, kid, but we gotta find us a place to hide out...
Just leave my allowance in the usuaI place and I'll have it picked up.
That's it. Now, don't forget it. Keep saying it. Now, fetch a policeman.
...no TV in the classroom?
And don't try to erase the tape. It's magna-proofed.
As I said, we took a vote and you lost.
He'll be punished when his parents play his report tape:
You better fly home, you and that mutt of yours. Come on, let's go.
There's nothing worse than showing up at work covered with dog hairs.
He'll never get over it.
Okay. Tie these two up and we'll hit the kitchen for some chow.
Hold it. Hold it a minute. I'll call in the police artist.
Oh, boy. You hear that, Janey?
No, no, no. He's got to be taught a lesson.
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