Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Truth is, he may not want me to find him at all.
That means he's scared.
You're looking great, kid. No, really. You are really looking great.
My team's sitting in the other bleachers.
It wouldn't make much difference to a person like you...
I know he's old, but there's something kind of, I don't know...
-S0? -So what?
...and send it home to your mother.
The things you did. The things you didn't do.
But what if it doesn't go your way?
-Why? -Because it's the truth.
That's Mr. Wrye. He's waiting for Mr. Taylor.
-Deep doo-doo. -I get your point. I'll tell him.
...and I'd like you to find my son if you can.
Well, how may we be of help?
He's got a 50 percent chance of being right.
I'm not sure I understand the question.
You must be wearing a lead dress. I can't see a thing.
I had this dream last night.
-This is our slow time. -Mornings?
I'm dying now, don't know if you heard about that.
And this, this is just the beginning.
June, relax. I'll have a little chat with the boys.
...arsonists, robbers, rapists, colourful people like that.
What are y'all looking at? Show's over!
...maybe you could smooth it over so I could see him again.
Whatever body you want.
-We're just looking for somebody. -You've looked in the wrong place.
Because that poor, sweet old man is dying.
He wants you to step into the room.
Keep the windows up, your head down, the doors locked.
We have a moral obligation. We made a promise.
How can I relax? This is our first big case.
You try to remember birthdays, can't remember many.
Mr. Wrye?
We're having a stimulating discussion. Where you going?
What do you say you set me up with seven, maybe eight tequilas?
-What are you doing now? -Looking up the word "nefarious."
Shut up. Your time is up.