Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Ah, excuse me.
Anyway, Tanker‘s hurt. Twisted his ankle.
— This is Armed Forces Radio Service—— -Sir, $1,000!
Here are the tools.
— The CIA has their own bombs? — Yep, and it‘s one oftheirs.
No sad songs.
— Hello? Operator, we‘ve been cut off. — What did Headquarters say?
— Morning, Radar. — Hi, Father.
Don‘t nobody move. This is a stickup.
I hope so too, otherwise I‘m gonna come back in the next life as a squirrel...
There‘s an electric excitement in the stands...
the navy thinks it detonates itselfin two minutes.
— What about the bomb? — You have to determine ifthe bomb is still ticking.
Just go out there and write down all the markings you can find.
Unless, ofcourse, the bomb don‘t go off.
The army? What do they know?
Got arrested the next year for punching a milk horse.
I run across that field and tape that leg good and tight, then run off.
Fragments came through the office.
It‘s a propaganda bomb.
Hello? Hel—— Yes, yes, please hold.
I‘ll tell you later.
Call me at halftime, will you, Captain?
Not that you don‘t make a very nice—looking young woman as well.