Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

That's a fact.
Monsieur Drysdale, mademoiselle, Edouard Millard, madame.
They would like to thank you folks for kindly dropping in.
You go on up and have your fitting.
Take a snort of this.
Your favorite, huh?
Tom, I don't want to work in no dress store.
They're obviously gentle people.
And then meet me up in Mr. Drydale's office.
Excuse me.
We hardly ever have any cash.
Set a spell.
Well, I figure first we'll all just look around and see what needs to be done.
Oh, uh, excuse me, young fella.
$12.50?
Now, Miss Renie and her girls is taking a rescue to get fattened up.
What in tarnation would you want with that?
Oil the sewing machines and sweep up thread and stuff.
He is indeed fortunate to have you piloting a ship of finance into the harbour of security.
Mr. Glambin, may I have another snork?
No, ma'am, granny.
Granny!
Metro, I reckon you and me better go on home.
Who are you?
Yes, of course.
Hey, Ma done her dressmaking in the back room of the house.
Will you be safe?