Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Woody, uh, call Melville's, tell them I want an eight o'clock reservation for two.

I finally feel good about myself again.

Mrs. Stone was dead set against rehiring her, and I hate to beg when sex isn't involved.

You know, I'm gonna go back to Stone.

And come with me now so we don't spoil the mood.

Don't say that.

He's the man I've been giving my accounts to for the last couple of weeks.

Oh, come on, sweetheart.

A slight improvement

I want tonight to be very special.

Ah, well, I think you'll look great wearing one of those.

What did I tell you?

It's not your fault.

Laugh if you will, but according to my calculations, the timing is perfect.

I left a message on her answering machine that I wanted to talk to her.

I was hoping you were going to wear it.

I know precisely what she means.

All right, but this is a waste of a perfectly good meatball sandwich.

Well, they were so insignificant, they really slipped my mind.