Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I don't like walking out before the show is over. It ain't professional.
Councilman Brown has agreed to have lunch with us.
- Starsky. - What?
- You all right, Sarah? - Fine, Henny. Just fine.
Make out you're late for a date with Robert Redford.
The usual. A little robbery, a couple murders.
Well, you got it. Good work, Starsky.
- Come on. What's the password? - Take off!
Yeah. I hauled a wreck in. Ohio plates.
Everybody just stay cool and nobody gets burned.
All right, get in there, darling!
Because there are 50 sticks of dynamite locked in the trunk...
- Captain, it's 1:37. - What are you, the town crier?
- Number? - I don't know.
Come on. Come on.
And they don't know it.
Hear that, Huey? These dudes are high rollers, man.
- You got something against music? - Come on.
- I'll get it, Dad. - Well, now, you just cool it.
Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute.
- Miss your lunch, captain? - Yeah.
Now, Hutch and I have heard that the two of you are on probation.
What is that? What is that? Two points a basket?
Teddy, you are faster than a speeding bullet.
I'm gonna let you take it out first.
Councilman, as an expert, it is my considered opinion...
Sure. Sure.
They held a gun on me and said they'd kill me if I told anybody.
Bye-bye.
- Wanna tell me what happened here? - Sure.
Sixty-three. Two-door.
- I got the back. - Okay.
Now look, I want you to hold that line open.
... and telephone the location to this station.
...which means you're entitled to steal as much as any male bartender.
Well, we weren't anxious to report it to the police because...
Go ahead, captain.