Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- By the way, Starsky. - Yeah?
Really.
This guy standing against the wall over here keeps glaring at Starsky.
- It's airtight. - What're you talking about?
Afraid I wouldn't be much competition.
Tommy was gonna take them to court. Was.
He was the last one to leave usually too.
Nobody's accusing anybody.
Get down.
Pathology's gonna check on that and call us back.
- Kill me, kill me. - What for, shoplifting?
- This is Hutch. - You were terrific.
Sorry to keep you boys waiting so long.
No more funny bruises on the neck.
Then they give the contract to another company.
Tessie, how can I fit this thing properly if you don't stop undulating?
Because of Mrs. Forbes?
They got balance. They're nimble and fleet of foot.
- Go in and do it, kid. - Yeah.
- Yeah. - Somebody locked us in this room.
- Life's gotta go on, right? - Not for Mac Johnson.
- I'd hate to have them lose their jobs. - Don't worry. I'm keeping them all.
Al Taft!
- Her name is Ellen Forbes. - See you, Mac.
- Soon Henry is a sprinter. - Or a quitter.
- Excuse me. - You know something, Starsk?
Meet me tomorrow morning at 10:00 in the owner's office.
- What's his name? - Boyce.
Who is he?
There he is.
Hey, Starsk, come here. Starsk?
He's likable.
All right, Mrs. Forbes. We all know where we stand.
- It was personal. - Not anymore, it isn't.
Well, that's what we want you to find out.
About 7.5 litres per minute.
Yeah, I remember.
Yeah.
Zebra Three, Captain Dobey is in a meeting with the commissioner...
Al wanted to start booking me in some other cities, you know?