Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

There's the puck!
O Canada!
Defence. Six three, 210.
How can you be thinking about the game when you're styling your hair?
Hey, Dean. Can I have your autograph?
I figured you'd show.
How was it?
Hey, cheers! Miss McGill!
Son of a bitch!
- What's going on here? - We met at the theatre.
Come on, Derek!
- I can't stand the sight of blood. - Unless it's your own, right?
Sutton. Careful out there. You'll get your hair messed up.
Dean Youngblood. Five foot ten inches, 160 pounds.
I'm gonna go with the other kid. I need someone who can put the puck in the net.
Dean?
Fuck me.
- Yo! Two Bloody Marys! - Tequila once again for the second time!
I got another game to work next week, if you don't mind.
Thanks.
- Let's go. - Come on, tough guy.
Jessie.
- Where's down there? - The city.
What about you guys? How many goals did you score last year?
- That guy suckered me. - Poor baby.
Can I ask you a question ? How’d you get so horseshit in one day?
So, does little boom-boom have a crush on her?
You're on your own.
- Who? Miss McGill? - Fuck you.
Yeah. I did.
(Murray) All right, move it, Derek!
I always thought he was wonderful.
When you were young. How old do you think you are?
- Let me see. - (player) Fucking animal.
- Let me at him! - (Dean) I'm waiting, Racki.
These are some of my boys.
What if it was you? Why don't you just quit?
Violators will be prosecuted. Thank you for your cooperation.
A week.
Shit. Excuse me.
Cheers.
Come up.
(Kelly) Now, there's one thing you're gonna have to learn.
Maybe he's right.
Just hit it, pillow hands.