Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I was only looking at it.
Yeah.
It's bad for the digestion.
Uh-huh. Employed by a company called Mesa Verde Construction.
-l can't believe you did that. With Walters.
Give me the lock-up keys.
-l get it. -Real estate right now but....
Hi. lt's my first day at work.
Did you see that? They're my partners.
-lt was a good plan. It worked. -lt worked? It didn't work.
-What's wrong with Mad? Nothing, l used to read it.
-Okay. There's a clock in your room.
-They do, huh? -Yeah, they do.
Okay? l did it. I did it.
Hey, I wonder what Murphy's got in his trunk.
He was one of us.
Leo's not just a real-estate broker.
Shh. Shh. Shh.
Your guy, hockey. The best seats in the house.
Like so. So you whip the head.
-Thought it looked familiar. -That gun and 1 5,000 others like it...
I love it down here, don't you, Murph?
-lt's a girdle. -What?
I don't wanna hit you. You think I like this shit?
I'm here for you.
-Now what? -That son of a bitch.
I'm just looking for some orange juice.
Sorry, pal. Where's the tunnel? Gangway!
Hey, hey, hey. Hands off the clothes. Okay, baby?
-How? -l gotta listen to you bitch about them!
Grabbed his cluster.
No keys. Tsk, tsk. l could hot-wire it.
Ooh! Excuse me. Excuse me.
Son of a bitch. lt works. Shit.
- God. - No. You're Murtaugh and l'm Riggs.
Get your hands up, asshole.
I ran out of biscuits, all right? Give me a break.
-Right here in my wallet. -No, your vest, you dummy.
What do you got under there?
Back up a bit. We don't want you to bump into this pole.
I haven't got any friends, you know that, Rog. Well, except you.
Built on guns and bloodshed.
Boy, these six days is gonna be rough.
Moon, lunar, lunatics. They're everywhere.
Armored-car guy? -Yeah. They're out on the streets.
All right, honey. Let me drive. We're in pursuit.
Hey, you know, you can eat a box of them. I'm still dying for a cigarette.
Sergeant Martin Riggs, heh.
He's done it twice now. Damn.
What the hell's going on here?
Fuck you, asshole!
Mrs. Smithers. Ma'am?
-That gun has a history. Wanna know it? -Tell me.
-l can't believe they did that. -Twenty-one and 1 8, clear.
Hey, buddy, you all right?
Wait. Wait, wait, wait!
-Yeah, 24 years. -Yeah, but is it working?
Yeah, yeah. Okay. l'll be right there.
-lt's a Westie. -Morning. Westie?
Seven days to retirement, I'm busted down to patrolman.
I'm looking at it.
Yeah. With a telescope big enough to see Venus.
Son of a bitch.
-Hubie, get the truck ready. -Right.
-Me? -Yes, you.
You're going against the grain.
WORD RIGGS !
Well, it was free-flowing earlier.
Shit!
-Did l say blue? -Riggs, you said blue.
-Oh, shit. How could l forget? -Red wire, blue wire, same thing.
Listen, Riggs, I was raised with four brothers.
He thinks I don't know l'm dying. I know it.
What? What's been accessed?
Back to bed. Back to bed.
This fool picked the wrong time to mess with the wrong lady.
I'm just great.
-Hello. Hey, l gotta talk to Roger. Leo.
...Lieutenant Jack Edward Travis.
-lt's under control. Let's go. -Bomb squad?
Don't you get it?
Okay.
Maybe a ground-to-air missile.
We got hurt all the time...
Son, stay still.
I've given it a lot of thought, Riggs.
-l told you l could do it. Closer!
Don't worry.
Of course l won't
Go.
-l know. l read your report. -Yeah.
It happened to me!
Hey, Riggs. Cop killers.
Just back up a little bit. A little bit more. Okay, good.
Those guys from the garage, they're all ex-cons.
Rianne, l'm so sorry. I feel like a microbe right now.
Don't get points for those.
-l'll take your word for it. -You gotta see this.
-Yeah, you scared them away. -No, they couldn't afford the financing.
Semantics? I'm always up for some antics.
Hey, that was dynamite driving.
-Right. Travis. -Travis.