Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Drink some water.
l just... I'm sorry! Gideon!
It's quality of prose, that sort of thing.
Luckily, there was Eric Philips, a local crocodile who dabbled in black magic.
Oh. Yeah, I'm cool with that.
- What have you got to offer? - I'm a writer.
# We can jellico, we can jellico
(Wind stops)
- That'll be 159 euros. - 159...
lmagine that. ln the summer of 1976,
(Whistling intensifies)
If you want something more powerful, I've got an otter in a bib.
- The Charlie books? - Yeah.
You're funny
on his way home from an Alice Cooper concert,
Yeah? Well, I got a problem with the black and white people.
See you later.
The only thing I would say...
- Come on. I'm not interested in Gideon. - Keep away from her.
(Wind stops)
You see a peanut, the day's off to a good start.
- He's just mucking around. - All right. OK. See you.
We just want to talk you through a few minor editorial changes.
- Could I have a quiet word? - Mmm.
I'll be off my tits on happiness. You should get one.
They loved it in Charlie's pink tight warm belly pouch and refused to come out.
- Good day, sir. - You're in a Hubba Bubba nightmare.
Oh, yeah. Twice I've read it. Once in the original and then the paperback.
l said good day, sir.
(# Ambient)
What are you talking about?
(Sneers) You prick. Get rid of him, Fossil.