Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Climb aboard, Young Fred.
Get back! Get back!
- And they're waving. - It's a group of fellas.
He wouldn't do that. He's our friend.
- There's a Cyclops. - Can't be. He's got two eyes.
- I don't half miss Ringo. - He's far out there.
There's a school of whales.
- Do you think they heard us? - I hope not.
Always was.
Young Fred, the Blue Meanies are coming!
What?! What?! The Glove is losing his touch.
Okay, men, all aboard. Let's go somewhere.
That was the panic button.
He does in truth seem quite annoyed,
Come on, Ringo!
- How do you know? - I read it in a book.
Oh, boy...
A- ha! You fools!
- But we're here. - It's Sgt. Pepper's...
The Meanies captured everything that maketh music.
suspended, as it were, in time,
Down the hatch. A quite curious phrase.
Play it!
That.
Clever lad.
'P' is for... goodbye?
- They look a bit old for school. - University, then.
And while I compose it, I'm also reviewing it.
And I can hear my beard growing.
We don’t eat cakes in the big red car because it can make a mess we just have to clean our car.
It's quite uncanny, your faces...
this motor, I see, has a broken down thing.
Safe at last.
Look. They're all asleep.
It's not polite to point!
Hey, that's a funny place to leave a goldfish bowl.
Jeremy!
Learn to sing trios.
In Pepperland, all things are possible.
Pat and Stan?
In genders embracing and chasing of blues,
And who the Billy Shears are you?
- Shall we? - No!
Fire!
Hey, wait, and watch.
Argentina?
I'm glad I'm not young any more.
It's no longer a blue world, Max.
This chap here...
- John! - ... beating lightly
Jump in, we'll get my friends.
- We're the spitting image of each other. - Golly, yeah.
You do, Lord Mayor.
Buck up, and otherwise go mingle.
Shh, that's enough, Jeremy.
Puss, puss-puss. Puss, puss, puss. Here, pussy.
Where could we go? Argentina?