Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

[birds chirping]
Michael, you're playing with suicide.
(Bianca) Sheeba, quiet down.
Bonnie, sometimes people change and we don't know why.
[engine faltering]
last one in the spa is a rotten pineapple.
but can you make me into a brilliant computer scientist?
Cheers, Mr. Cooper.
Wait.
What is it, Michael? Can I get away with it?
It's a company photograph taken about three months ago...
Hello, Bianca. I told you, you couldn't get away with it.
That's what worries me. Three, when I get the word....
A good friend of hers was killed last night in a car crash.
One of Dr. Freeman's projects, a microcomputer guidance system...
(KITT) Michael, Devon is calling.
All I really wanna know is who you are.
You are something else, Dr. Knightwood.
Oh, no? Mmm-mmm.
Just what is it you want?
That micro guidance system is definitely in the wrong hands.
[music playing on stereo]
Oh, dear.
(Bianca) Then you have the courier's route?
[tires squealing]
You're right.
Anything in particular you want me to look for?
Not my hot tub.
Stay out of sight, partner. The one who attacked us on the road is here.
He's in a state of shock, Michael.
Like a new man. Good.
Well, she made the Retreat here sound so peaceful and intellectually stimulating...
the contacts are somehow made...
Give it to me.
Michael, that's not asking a lot, that's asking a miracle.
October 2nd, to be exact.
(Bianca) I wanna see what he knows first.
I don't understand it, Michael. I could be in a complete stranger's house.
I'd consider that substantial progress. What's another day or so?
(KITT) Michael, are you really certain...
[electric buzzing]
I don't believe that.
[bleeping]
(Tanya) Are you going our way, boys?
Yes, in the line of duty.