Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

[deep growling]
[screaming]
The paintings don't come from my head.
Minot would never understand!
[sighs deeply]
Welcome to my work.
That's my father! That's my father!
[spits]
[thumping music playing]
They come from my life.
No, no… Come…
No, see, see, I thought that it was me.
-[Rebecca continues chopping] -[voices chanting faintly]
-[quick footsteps approaching] -[James rambles incoherently]
[distant howling]
Mr. Thurber?
[men chant faintly]
in the darkness.
[dramatic sting]
[Rebecca] I know where it lives, Will.
-[Thurber] Joe. -[Joe] Y'ai'ng'ngah…
You never showed these.
How exhausted?
me and some of the others, after a brutal critique.
Ng'ngah.
Electricity went out several months back.
Will, this is my aunt, Mrs. Creighton.
uh, saying he had some final adjustments to make.
[suspenseful music playing]
Uh…
[distant voices murmur and shout]
[continues rambling]
I mean, the entire point of the class is to draw what you see,
I couldn't sleep.
Haunt cemeteries in the dead of night?
Joe, it undermines the very traditions of European craftsmanship.
and a shallow cove.
It endures.
At the gallery, at the committee.
Oh, shit.
[Thurber] Dear God.
Now, I'm aware it's out of the ordinary,
Thurber, my boy, you look tired.
[frantic music playing]
-[dramatic sting] -Ah!
Said his name is Pickman. He's back in town again.
[Joe] Y'ai'ng'ngah.
to be seen by critics and patrons alike.