Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

All my goyim friends Are making up their lists

We got through this pageant. Give me some presents.

Don't worry, Rallo.

And all my goyim friends Get some pretty sweet gifts

But, Murray, you could die.

But the rest home was keeping you alive.

This is the first I'm hearing of it.

You know, I think I figured out why you're so cranky.

I'm not going back.

Come on, Pop, you're never too old to hit your son.

...and the next day, you only own one pair of shoes.

How could you have let him treat your son that way?

We've got a lot of work to do.

Christmas, 1975.

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