Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

A pleasure to meet you, Madam President.
The President is tweeting.
I'm afraid it's quite dire.
When you feel up to it, you and Catherine and I should sit down
Shit.
Well, that's on you, isn't it?
- Hi, Gary. - Hi.
- 17 seconds. I timed it. - Really?
She's like that guy... that guy...
This country's just lost its sense of decency.
- All right. - Catherine, honey...?
Count every vote. Count every vote.
Mm-hmm.
Yeah.
Stop protesting, you idiots!
Yeah, I'm on it, though I think the DJ already spent the deposit.
- There's not really a plug. - Oh.
who can stall 'til we find the ballots.
I chose a parabolic path deliberately out of earshot.
So make some fuckin' noise, dummies.
Oh! Oh, Jesus.
Yeah, serving the country.
Right over here? Yeah.
Oh, my God.
since the Spanish-American War.
Which is why I don't do dishes.
Well, Mother...
because for me with my schedule and life.
Mom, you should say hi to her.
Andrew, you know that we're at a funeral, right?
I'm not even aware I'm doing it anymore.
Sure.
We officially lost Nevada,
She always wore dishwashing gloves when she gave me my bath.
The deadline will be extended.
Ms. Brookheimer, how goes the count?
Wow, your ex, not afraid to mix business with mourning.
- I can't take this music, okay? - Yeah, please.
You pulled the plug without me?
because they are always a part of you.
So I understand you have a message for me.
- Dr. Mir... - Mirpuri.
Please turn it off, okay?
The bulk?
It's such a scumbag move.
- Not that color. - No, I didn't.