Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

we climb up the side

There's more, there's more, there's more...

It's not even fully corked. It's a baby.

- Yes. - I'm very sorry.

Didn't take long for you to make a mess of things.

Her gardener gave me your name,

You have no idea what you're getting involved with.

To a wealthy turkey farmer...

I will kill her.

Well, we believe he entered the country

I shall need a moment to think this through, I'm afraid.

In vague terms.

Sheik of Araby who seeks admission into your tent.

Chatter is he's found a dashedly clever way

This place is an absolute mausoleum on one's own.

Crikey, man! The farmer's daughter?

You've touched a nerve.

#Gruyere,chocolateyvinos finos

The auction got it.

Yes, I suppose it could.

I will take your finger.

this fair land of the free!

Find, you said.

Ah, well done. Carry on.

Very disappointing.

and we will find that painting if it is the last thing we do.

Right. You know, Bronwen called me

Perish the vile thought. I couldn't possibly.

in hushed tones to this very day.

you could make some inquiries.

Are you all right in there, darling?

They most certainly are, darling.

You will get used to it. I promise.

in next week's sale.

A quick aside about Jock.

Would you also like to make a bid?

Everyone knows you're broke.

Yes. Where is the Goya?

- Come on! - Twenty million, you swine!

of sexual intercourse,

What's in it for me, as they say?

A bid from Lady Mortdecai, who seems to be

Ambassador's residence in Moscow.

You think poor Miss Fellworthy stumbled into something,

of the fairer sex do find it quite appealing.

This is not a breast in my hand!

You and your men have done

I swallowed it.

Massive, crushing debt.

If it is money we need,

You're his dealer, so you have painting!

What should I do now?

it is a matter of national security.

Bronwen lied from the start.

Excuse me. This is a crime scene.

Milton Krampf? The American?

And now, moving on to Lot Six.

Well, good luck, mate.

One hundred thousand pounds. Thank you, Sir Graham.

Bronwen's college?

500, ladies and gentlemen.

Good show, Martland!

of unbelievable nastiness.

and your flight leaves... Ah, now.

Darling? Please?

I do believe it was Maggie Thatcher

I couldn't say, sir!

Barnyard Friends. A lovely Helen Allingham,

What is that infernal thing on your lip?

Well, if my men start asking questions,

And it is customary in these situations

So all I must do is show up,

Have we taken a wrong turn and arrived

You won't be needing this anymore, will you?

And money changed hands.