Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Ballpoint. Ballpoint. Ballpoint, don't leave me.
Ha-ha-ha. - Oh.
Don't touch anything for a minute and 23 seconds. Remember.
Oh, no. No.
Now, which of us is to cast the first stone?
An arraignment, Your Honor. Mr. Penguin and his rascally restaurateurs.
I fear it's too grim.
You fry and sizzle and boil.
High-voltage electric cables into the pool.
Open the trunk. Release Chief O'Hara.
This is one plan Penguin won't twist.
I believe I have that sum on hand in the small wall safe in my study.
run for your lives to your favorite family physician.
Robin, would you get me police headquarters via the special tip line, please?
Come on, I'll help you get it out.
There. That ought to do it.
There you are. Only one.
Quickly, down and up the Batpoles before they wake.
- Why, what an extraordinary pastry. - The biggest I've ever seen.
- "Quill-Pen Quertch"? - Who's he?
Release Mr. Penguin and his rascally restaurateurs.
Fortunate the criminal classes don't realize the possibilities.
Moldavian food poisoning.
Quick. To the Approval Routing Flow
Your Honor, the people withdraw their case.
Right index finger.
Alas, it's too simple.
Yes. Mr. Blue, prepare to light the burner.
Heavily dusted with pastry flour.
What an astonishing stroke of luck.