Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- Hi, Wilma. - Hi, Betty. Come on in.
Hello, Mr. Gravel.
What happened? You look terrible.
- Skin-diving gear? - Check-a-red-check.
my next-door neighbor and his wife ain't got no plans...
- Dino? - At the vet's.
- They used to call me "Lard." - Why not?
Not a chance.
Tell you what, Fred.
if I bring them along, can they get a rate, too?
You'll have to take care of the rowboat yourself.
Sure thing. Let's get an early start.
From what I saw of that old gang of yours, half of them never learned to write...
- Fred, you'll hurt yourself. - Careful, Fred.
Fred Flintstone!
No wonder I never found the right girl to marry.
I still can't figure it out. All the guys I used to know.
Five minutes! What for? We're only going to be here for three days.
Oh, boy, this is a whopper.
This meeting will now come to order.
somehow he ends up defending himself from something else.
But, Fred, how can you do this to me after all I have done for you?
What do they think we are, slaves?
How else could they figure out their racing forms?
We're pretty far out, Fred, I hope we don't run into a sea serpent.
but at the convention, I'm the Grand Exalted lmperial Pooh-Bah.