Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Don't give anyone your name.

Seven. Seven-eight-two-two. Mmm.

That sounds lovely!

[piano intensifies]

One-four-zero-seven.

♪ Momma loves her baby ♪

I've got a name and a number.

in our house of worship.

-Hey! -[whistle blows]

…and married.

Went back to Budapest.

Uh, come over here.

-Cuckoo-cuckoo! -[Nadia] There a fucking rooster in here?

[in Hungarian] The appraisers are right by the hospital.

Hot off the presses, ink's still wet.

One-four-zero-seven, baby. Come on.

What do I know?

[sighs] So fucked up.

[upbeat music playing]

Before you answer, remember, you believe in "transubstantiation."

You don't have to be a widow every night, right?

a priest, sending the mail.

Thanks for your time.

[window closes]

Uh, how did such things happen?

♪ I found out just a little bit… ♪

It's warehouse, not train.