Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Great. What shall we do?
Where ground is soft most often grows,
And none the worse for our adventures.
We're being swallowed. What shall we do?
Can it be me? I think you'd better inquire of the guards,
- He looks wrong. - He doesn't look at all well.
Hey, Ringo, I've just had the strangest dream.
Joe Lombardo?
Arise, arise, arouse, a rose.
Where should I go?
- Rides well, doesn't he? - 'E' is for ergent...
He's been bonked.
Down the Hatch
- But how'll we get over...? - Easy. Follow me.
- No, I haven't. - Have a look in your pocket.
Hey, fellas. Look.
I don't know. Ringo's just a sentimentalist.
- What do you think it is? - Nothing.
Great. Let's go.
- The Bonkers? - No.
But I don't have an imagination.
They shrink at the very sound.
Nothing ever happens to me.
I think he needs a rehearsal.
- Anti-music missiles? - No.
Enough to fill the Albert Hall.
It must be scratched.
My dear friend...
- Do you ever get the feeling... - Yeah.
Are you bluish?
Fix it to keep his mind from wandering.
Thing of beauty... destroy it for ever!
Okay, Booby. Down the hatch.
- Dealing in abstracts. - Just because I'm a drummer...
...Blue Meanies!
It's all in the mind, you know.
Have you got your drumsticks with you? A drum break might shatter it.
- The dreadful Flying Glove? - No.
...
Sound off, one, two, three, four...
- We'll be sucked into oblivion. - Or even further.
Displaying.
Open your mouth, it won't hurt.
Puss, Puss Puss Puss Puss Puss Here Pussy
Well, you'll soon put a stop to that, won't you, Glovey?
Can't you tell one when you see one?
If I spoke prose, you'd all find out, I don't know what I talk about.
Rimsky Korsakov?
Yeah, it was a great party.
Oh, yes is a word with a glorious ring,
- Look. Breakfast. - I'm dying for a bit of brekky.
- and foremothers... - Another quartet?
Be empirical. Look.
This thing? This thing?