Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- Why are you doing this? - No one else would.
[whistle blows]
Okay, fine. She can try out.
[chuckling]
I beg your pardon, Miss?
that there shall be no gum-chewing, so...
Top Boy, Sabrina?
Yes.
Uh, I've given her a witch-whistle and blinding powder for her protection.
Well, it's Principal Wardwell now.
- Nick wouldn't. - Sabrina, Sabrina, Sabrina...
- I'm good to go, Sabrina, are you? - I'm ready.
and punishable by lashing if proven to be...
can anyone run?
kamu ganteng sekali ha ha ha
Hm. You two look dashing.
And may I say how honored I am
Tell Luke, tell all your chums,
Except for you, Ambrose, you stay.
We are not pawns of the filthy little covens of Satan, girl.
I am Asmodeus.
When are tryouts?
...ubi dolores habitant!
- He wouldn't. - Oh.
But unless he specifically hand-picked Nick,
Asmodeus...
Um... Miss Wardwell, I have to go.
Young Master Nicholas, if you accept this nomination...
Well, luckily for you, I am the Academy's never-bested,
- and can't shoot for shit. - Okay, blockheads, I took you on once,
and the concoction will putrefy.
That had "Weird Sisters" written all over it.
You heard the demons yourself. No one conjured them.
Stopped from doing what?
But tonight we're just men.
Miss Spellman.
Apparently, someone summoned a demon to meddle with my niece.
Harvey.
That's just... wrong.
If not you, then one of your boys.
dominus satanas.
Easy. Uh, the pentagram.
...it's me.
Apparently, there's a faction in the coven
♪ Try, try, oh, oh, oh ♪
[groaning]
Don't worry, Aunt Zelda. I've already spoken with the new principal,
No.
You've got far too much studying to do before the Inquisition.
"Hey, Harvey, I'm open." Shoot the ball, dyke.
But not against you.
Nicky, dear, you know we don't typically serve her kind in the Gray Room.
[door slam echoing]
[Beethoven's Für Elise plays]
It's shameful, with poor Constance not even cold in her grave.
not High Priest right now, Sabrina.
Beelzebub...