Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

If I can't get back to him, he's sitting in D-10.
as the one you deserve.
Work don't stop just 'cause the Vice President's coming, you know, babe.
Aaah!
Stay with him.
Aah!
The Penguins trail by only one.
You don't have to think, Mike. This is hockey.
I love you too.
- Two. - Notify their families.
Tell the President I'll keep him fully informed until the Vice President's out.
- Mr. Vice President. - Aw, shut up. He's campaigning.
That's the President's choice, but I think it's the wrong one.
- Joan. - Hi, Darren.
- Unless I get a direct order, I'm getting those guys out. - Sir?
Oh, scratch my back with a hacksaw!
Now back in goal for Pittsburgh,
I have arrangements with the presidents of two.
- Hello? - Emily.
We'll inform all news outlets of how serious this is.
How many are dead?
The Penguins need a goal desperately.
You know, I voted for you. I really did.
Oh, buy Sam a drink and get his dog one too!
Arson investigator, lots of commendations.
If you were packing heat, you couldn't get in here.
Tolliver, that's a thousand-dollar fine!
Four hundred million to Banco de Vizcaya, Madrid.
- It's very important work. - Are you a fireman again, Daddy?
Penguins looking for a lift here to try and get back in this game.
- I'm not afraid of you. - Sure you are.
- Mr. Ferrara? - Yes?
# At the twilight's last gleaming
I assure you I won't kill more people than it takes to convince everyone of my sincerity.
Hey...is that BrD Tolliver? No...It’s Jay Caufield
Daddy!
- Let me see your license. - Oh, sure.
- What's his whole name? - Darren Francis Thomas McCord.
Taken away, and McEachern hustling down the right side.
I tell ya, Mike, I don't think Tolliver looks like himself right now.
- What are you gonna do, drown me? - No.
Sudden death.
- What is this, a day-care center? - She saw me off a guy.
That's all you need to know.
Hey, what's that?
There'll be a total media blackout on this.
- Oh, gross! - I have some work to do.
Sutter fires and scores! Chicago does get the third goal!
Frequent Flyer is in and on his way to the locker room.
- You just killed two useful members of society. - No! It's being done!
The Hawks attacking the Penguin territory.
It's the seventh game.
No helicopters or police vehicles encroach on the stadium grounds.
We've got eight seconds left!
- It's only one night. - It's the last game of the Stanley Cup.
Every body and every thing going into that elevator should have been searched.
That one came off Steve Smith, the Chicago defenseman, and finds the net.
Come on!
You'll what? Burn my toast?