Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- I don't want to go with Nathan. - I'm doing this for your own good.

I wish I had more time to get to know you.

I will do anything.

- Do whatever it takes. - Alright, alright, alright.

[mariachi music intensifies]

[elevator dings]

[cheerful ringtone plays]

Nope. Maybe I don't have a type.

- It is. - I know.

[suspenseful music]

♪ But whatever it is you think you need ♪

They're not gonna push us around.

Well, that's something we both have in common.

[breathes heavily]

And get yourself some clean boomsticks.

Bring back the money.

We haven't seen you since you were yea high.

Not unless you want me to send your little princess back in pieces.

Febrairu 8, 2000

The rest of them are coming.

[grunting and yelling continues]

[Florence] Hmm. That's odd.

Febrairu 3, 2000

[breathing heavily] You are a goddamn rock star.

We need weapons and a car. We need a safe house!

- [Sam pants] - [phone rings]

[cheerful ringtone plays]

Come on. [pants]

Do you know how to drive?

Try the self-help section.

[metallic clink]

[tense emotional music plays]

- Right, ladies. - [guns cocking]

Then my son was born.

[soft music plays]

[zippers closing]

[soft music plays]

That's what they teach in school these days?

- [Sam] Need help, Ma? - No, thank you.

♪ That a woman possibly can ♪

I wanted to stay with you and your aunts, but I couldn't.

[quietly] Well, that's no way to live, dear.

♪ We can fight ♪

- Go. - [banging at door]

[whispers] 60 seconds.

- [distant screaming] - [glass smashing]

Yes, I've got it already.

- [kicking] - [grunting]

I'll buy us some time.

An accountant. From the clean side of the business.

Maybe not ever.

Oh, thank God it's just you three.

[quiet music playing in diner]

[Scarlet] Reload!

- We have to go. - Go where?

[man screams and whimpers]

There's not a single person on earth I'd rather kill people with.

...idiotic grate.

[music intensifies]

- [Scarlet] I have to help her. - You need my permission?

[climactic music]

Those are our children's sections.

and they fed me to McAlester's endless supply of thugs.

[exhales incredulously]

[tires screeching]

I'm not making the same mistake.

["You'll Never Know" by Bobby Darin plays]

[Anna May] Well, girl?

[rousing rock music plays]

[electrical buzzing]

[whispers] Hi, Mom.

No, no. You don't get to talk.

I don't have a mother.

[door shuts in far distance]

I hear that's pretty lethal.

- She had it last time we saw her. - [laughing]

[ominous music plays]

♪ You must leave now ♪

A Charlotte Brontë.

And I shot him.

[thunder rumbles]

[whispers] Hi, sweetheart.

Goddammit, Sam.