Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Constipated. I'm constipated.
SCHMIDT: Thank you.
FIFE: Moo! ALL: Ha, ha!
Take it down a notch before this old man takes you out, makes you pick a switch.
[SIGHS]
Look at this. I'm freaking shrinking!
I've never been an inspiration before. I don't like it, it's too much responsibility.
- Are you limping? - My hip is achy.
Ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at a brand-new man.
Nick picked them up from the dry-cleaner for me today and I swear they seem longer.
- Say that one more time. - Oh.
So yeah, my job pretty much rules.
This actuarial table stops at age 99...
Don't wear Old Spice.
[IN NORMAL VOICE] It's Urkel! - Urkel?
- I don't know, drivers ed, CPR. - Oh, God.
[MAN SPEAKING IN LOW VOLUME ON TV]
Shoot, Gran Torino.
[PEOPLE CHATTERING]
Please. You work in a bar. It's a whole different thing.
Jess, what the hell was that?
- Well... - I was fired, Schmidt.
Hi, Schmidt.
Like where your head's at. We'll be there with bells on.
...and they're the future of humanity.
Minus one year if your chosen field offers few opportunities for advancement. Check.