Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Hey, screw you, blondie.

VAN PELT: All right. Bye.

- Why are you trying to ruin her? - Did you know she was with Russo...

Same old story, I guess.

- Hi. Is, um... Is Mary there? - No, lady. It's the wrong number.

- You could hear the bone crack. - Ouch.

He's in the state morgue in Sacramento under the name of Ed Didrikson.

Speak about Eddie Russo.

- Listen you piece of dirt. You dog turd. - Yeah, sure.

You really think I would forget your birthday present?

Oh, wait, Jane's gonna guess.

...or you can make me look good with Sonny Battaglia, and die.

This guy? What is he gonna do?

- Correct. - Ha, ha, ha.

All the hours I spent on this course.

- What do I know? - No. Uh, you don't know anything,

I can't imagine being out here in the desert alone...

Rats get dead. Not by me. Not by me.

I'll give it right back.

Lot of rain. Snow up in the mountains.

Oh. Did you know that Eddie was dealing drugs?

...the night he vanished? - So you're saying she fingered him?

- Ask to speak to Mary. - I don't like this.

They will sort everything out. In the meantime, we'll all relax.

You can go now.

- We don't have much time. - Have a seat in my office. It's quieter.

- What did he sound like? - Like he was covering for some guy.

Hey. Hey, hey, hey.

When the river rises, this must be underwater.

...so, uh, I thought I'd come by and cook you some.

Well, I'll call Sonny and have him tell you himself.

- You didn't ask or didn't wanna know? - Oh, I get it. He's a bad man, right?

Okay. You got a name for me?

Sierra Vista P.D. Confirmed...

- Uh, in my locker. - All right, let's go.

I won't beat around the bush.

Not the fat one. Get the other kind.

- We'll need the home address. - Sure thing.