Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Daddy. Daddy's home.

- I need a few minutes. - What?

I really, really love you.

You know, like if I had a car,

Fuckin' hell! Have I got Barclays tattooed on my forehead?

They were the Buzzcocks. If you didn't know, well, now you do.

Listen, Debbie, I don't know where the fuck he is.

I felt as if things were becoming a bit clearer earlier on,

I can't believe you did it.

Chin up. Could be worse.

Ian, you are confusing me.

Yeah. We're all here. One big fuckin' happy family.

Still got the word "cock" in it, though.

Thank you. Good night.

Just like that?

Is this the start of it all?

An Ideal for Living. And that wraps it up for tonight.

Get off! Fuckin' get off!

Hi. I'm Ian's wife.

It fuckin' gets you fuckin' down Evidently chicken town

behind the hot dog counter. How does that sound?

- So you like food and watching telly? - That's right.

Mate, you're pissing up the wrong tree here.

I think we should go.

I'll have a word, boss.

Give Natalie a kiss for me.

What's that got to do with us?

We all get stinkin' rich and go buy fuckin' great big houses in Cheshire.

All right, lads?

There's nothing the doctors can do but try tablets.

I know. I know I am.

You're mine. Irretrievably.

- Are you OK? - Yeah.

Tea's in the pot, bedroom's in there.

- What's the story, then? - He's had some kind of fit.

- 'Course he liked it. - Well, how do you know?

- So is he gonna be all right? - He's not said a lot.

How about you, Hooky? You nervous or what?

You can't pin all that on us.