Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I need something sweet.

It has the nail.

I know Monica's worst Thanksgiving.

Monica, your remote doesn't work.

Yes, yes, Monica is thin. It's wonderful.

I don't have any more room in the fridge.

- Happy Thanksgiving. - Not for me.

Okay, count to three. One, two...

You know what? I've just had it with high-school boys.

Really? Worse than:

Serving Others While Wounded Instead of Healing

So, uh, where's Monica?

This feels so good against my cheek.

- Okay. - Ooh, and I love carrots.

Did the little rich boy had a problem with the butler?

- Happy Thanksgiving. - You too, sweetheart.

And the way they play with your mind. I mean, is it there? Is it not there?

Oh, my God. Monica's going to totally freak out.

It's not that. I don't wanna be stuck here all night with your fat sister.

What is that supposed to mean?

It's exactly like it sounds.

Wait, wait, wait.

Oh, no. I have the cutest Christmas story.

- That must have felt so great. - Well, it didn't.

I am really sorry.

- What is it? - You brought a carrot.

He's got a severed toe on his right foot.