Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

no matter what my psychiatrist says.
I must live right...
One year, I was in the spring play at Public School 158.
Betty Rubble! Are you out of your mind?
Keep tossing, Barney.
If either one of them win, we split the prize between us, right?
I got it. It just might work.
Honest, Fred, I can't go. I'm writing a letter to Betty.
My feet are killing me.
- Come on, Barney, let's go. - What?
Look, Betty. There's Fred and the producer.
Come on, you two.
For what I've been thinking of you the last few days.
We wouldn't trust you out there for one minute.
Barney, you're a pal.
- Fred wouldn't cheat his best friends. - Yeah, all right. I'm sorry, Betty.
Do you think I'm made of money or something?
Hey, who wants to eat meatballs? I'm trying to eat from meatball ever!
And we'll have to get an autograph book.
That sounds fair.
Yeah. Surrounded by all those starlets.
This part calls for a real woman. A real wife.
So Wilma and I decided the only fair thing to do is toss for it.
No, nobody would do this to me.
while our poor husbands are back home slaving away.
Neither would I.