Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Men always tell their troubles to a barmaid.

You ever been in a house this big?

Can we shake hands and forget this ever happened?

He said a lot, but the only bit I heard... was that their high command

Why not? I'm a barmaid. It's my job.

What do you say, Mr Kimber?

Would it be so bad if they stayed?

How many men can you put in the field at one time?

He has a place a couple of miles away.

A surprise? Where is she?

My suits are on the house or the house burns down.

♪ The boys of the old IRA... ♪

While he has her.

They're called operatives.

I'm not finished. Sit down.

Men should talk, too.

I was going to let you go through with it, but in the end,

Not the best of tactics, Sergeant.

And what did my countrymen want?

What exactly is it that you want, Freddie?

Maybe they are. Maybe they're not.

Buy the boys a drink. Anybody hurt?

Freddie didn't want your money.

Come on, posh girl. Earn your three quid.

Well, I prefer to come to the races the back way.

Talk to me about the guns.

..and we fucking volunteered.

I'll lead. Watch yourself, Danny. Tommy.

Chalk for your blackboards.

We chased the Lees across the track, right the way down the Devon road.

Do you have names?

And now the coppers are saying if we don't turn Freddie in,

A few cuts and bruises.

They're going to lose a lot of money on fast women and slow nags.

Why did you change your mind, Thomas?

No more CHALKING on Billy Kimber’s boys!

Christ knows you've had your fill of war.

Side bet. Ten pounds says I'll have her fucked in one.

You thinking Freddie Thorne's back?

Will you ladies at least let a man sleep on it?