Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

If you are growing that excrement on your lip
JOCK: Oh, I've got a sensitive tummy!
except one.
he would destroy a magnificent work of art.
(BOTH SPEAKING CANTONESE)
It is a privilege, Jock.
Emil!
(WOMAN SIGHING)
(PEOPLE CLAMORING)
- What are you doing? - Oh, no. To the left a bit.
whether any unsavory types have enlisted you
The door? Please?
That painting could be anywhere by now, sir.
that you very nearly caused an international incident.
No, I never drink alcohol.
fair shot with most weapons.
Alastair, what are you doing here?
Oh, my!
Focus, man! There are but five days to insolvency.
So glad you called.
Uh, Branspath? Okay. Thank you so much.
a bit of an acoustic nightmare.
Drop the gun!
Have we taken a wrong turn and arrived
And it is customary in these situations
Well, the lady with the hair and brain.
Oh, Charlie...
when the allies captured Goering...
Her Lady Mortdecai to see you, Your Grace.
So I am.
Mmm?
and we will find that painting if it is the last thing we do.
Terribly sorry, sworn to secrecy.
Open your balls?
He's on his way home.
Get the blowtorch.
This way.
Lady Mortdecai.
Where is Mortdecai?
- Blackfriar's Hall. - We must do this again.
Hundreds and hundreds of millions,
(MUMBLING)
We must go shooting again. Jock has fully recovered.
Where is Mortdecai?
And we move on to Lot Four.
Better out than in. All right...
That... Well... Quite.
MARTLAND: Those bank codes won't fall into
Why can't you invest in saving us from financial ruin?
I should think the special one, Jock.
Spinoza, you silver-tongued scallywag.
But Spinoza's already there.
Oh! Oh!
Tell him to ring back
Forty-five, thank you, sir. 45, 50, back on the...
Nobody make a move.
I shall secure the perimeter.
Terribly sorry.
(EXHALES)
Let's get back to the Duchess.
Sorry, Inspector Martland, sir.
Oh, dear, sweet, resourceful Jock.
is it not?
and unreservedly offer my deepest...
Your Grace,
Enough!
(GRUNTS)
Ah!
Is there a purpose to your presence?
And in charge, thank you very much.
A chap called Bunny's
(AUCTIONEER SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
The fine wine?
Will it be all right in the end?
Man down! Man down!
Anonymously, of course.
Oh, yes.
I may have (CLEARS THROAT) mentioned Bronwen
AUCTIONEER: Now, can we go to 500?
Thank you, sir.
I've given you a lot of rope over the years, Charlie.
and vodka so ice cold you need gloves to handle it.
Three.
Jock? Please can you take the Sheridan
(JOCK GRUNTING)
(MORTDECAI SIGHS)
Is this a tryst?
was a matter of some overdue bills on the Rolls,
Cover me, as it were?
and the rumored possessor of the lost Goya.
Checking in?
to Johanna at lunch today.
Bloody good show, Jock!
- (WOMAN MOANING) - (MAN GRUNTING)
MORTDECAI: The rest was a bit rude,
MORTDECAI: Johanna, my darling.
- Of course. - (LAUGHING)
No, no, man! My little sproutling.
I couldn't say, sir.
In vague terms.
for mustachioed men such as I!
I'll trim it.
The Goya she was cleaning.
a discussion about three...
Uh, she was said to be his greatest masterpiece.
in no way obviates the fact
Oh!
Is she?
Some warmed blinis, creme fraiche,
It's a privilege, sir!
Do you feel unsafe?
Oh, God, I missed you terribly.
Of course, Johanna.
Give me the painting.
Heavens, no. You needn't worry yourself.
WOMAN: Hi.
How the fuck should I know?!
that I've bumped my head...
this is not the first time I've shot Jock.
Course, I'll just, uh... I'll shut the door.
Johanna, you look lovely.
Why did it have to be art?
MILTON: Doesn't she look like my mother?