Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I'm mincing me some crawdads for Miss Drysdale's party.

Morning, Ellie.

Howdy, young fella.

Now, how come they's making one?

Whatever's troubling you, I'm here to help.

Party over so soon?

It'll dissolve.

And I'll appreciate it if all of you will be as inconspicuous as possible.

Here comes the hot sausages.

It's the vapor.

Some kind of a flower plant.

I'll doctor it back to health for you.

That's only a toy.

Come on out to the kitchen, Miss Jane.

Probably no women, neither.

Are you kidding?

Sandy party, Miss Dry-Dale.

Oh, this is gonna take some doing to save that.

or for not-so-old folks who want to ward it off.

I won't, Betty.

Stand around and sip tea and listen to music and boring conversations.

A right awkward place to polter us, too.

Tastes like it was drawn off a barrel of rainwater that some apples dropped into it.

Now, do you still insist upon going?

Hey, we've been listening to you sawing on that thing.

Oh, you can have all you want.