Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I see cityside's back in the tournament, no thanks to you.

but I've been dining out on the headbutting story.

You can't pretend, len, to have everyone on your side

Norm: Could not drive a nail through a piece of wood, Edgar.

We can't afford to. We haven't got any money.

We gotta win this thing.

Commentator: Now the two skips moving to the mat

I had you pegged as the sort of bloke

set to go ahead following the failure of crisis talks

and often, when she's working back late at night,

But I will say this...

Dave: Nice one, Jack.

Cleaned up the kitchen?

Whoa, yeah. You little beauty!

the Jack Simpson who's a member of this club.

Oh, it's gonna be a short end, fellas.

Dave: Hey, daddy-o!

You've got a hide, turning up here.

Until that time no-one can say we can't field a team.

This is a really great game.

Mate, if you have to ask you probably can't afford it.

Hey, get back to work, buddy.

'Cause I used your real name. What?

Congratulations to the fundraising committee, Eileen.

Commentator: Oh, yes. Yes, that's classic alcock.

I'm Eileen - the lady president.

Smoke like a chimney,

Edgar: How about a raffle?

But if you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.

Oh, they have their reasons.

Albert David Jackson.

Jack. I'm going to bowl the flipper.

We've been approached again by that advertising mob

Everything's worked out, I suppose.

and took ownership of the call.

Eileen: Good on you, norm. Dave: Well done.

Yeah, good luck.

Yeah. Let you know if anything changes.

“from premises leased from the crown.

the most formidable team in this competition.

Commentator: Ladies and gentlemen, here they are,

Let's stick it right up 'em!

Better now I've got fuel in the tank.

And Edward inchley, the 'dapper gent' of the game...

He's only hanging around so he can hold onto his car park.

I'm afraid it grieves me sorely

Woman on radio: It's alright for youse

You'll come round - you've got to.

Ida, you make us proud, now.

You're a class act.

Not that there's anything wrong with that, Eileen.

Poor bugger's in st Vincent's.

telling me I have to bowl this Saturday

The wheel of cheese.

with our friend mr Simpson, won't I?

Edgar: Look, there's a teapot.

Frankston was a holiday resort.

Lovely club. Huge fan of the club.

Alright, alright!

Eileen is still the lady president,

Julio gleeson, the 'Latin lothario' of the game.

If you've got somewhere cool to store it, you're laughing.

Ah, give me a break. I'm a busy fella.

That prick's been after our club for years.

The sad thing is you're a natural. I can see that.

Just wondering what the hell you're up to, that's all.

He just wants to make sure he's in tip-top shape

Better all be here!

Well... it was the only time I ever met him.

Oh, not you too.

Hey, take it easy, mate.

Yeah, right. Very civilised, actually.

You're a bloody disgrace.

we beat Brandy creek 21 to18.

Victory will be all the sweeter, then.

Sorry to muck you about, but I'm afraid we're looking for

Herbs? Sounds fancy.

Good for you. Must have fond memories?

That is incredible.

Well, our ruling is, someone else should re=bowl it.

Oh, why's that? This whole restraining order.

Why don't you ask that nice, young bloke

Newsreader: Tomorrow's transport strike

Either trail the Jack or a resting toucher to win.

Ladies and gentlemen, the queen.

No, I don't eat pumpkin. It makes me spew.

which, I believe, is in 10 days time.

Well bowled, cliffy boy!