Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Frank? Are you okay? Rug, rug, rug, rug.
- More for me. CHARLIE (over walkie): Yo, Frank!
Run, run, run, run, Frank! Run, Frank!
what's going on. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's a good idea.
You're right! You're right, I'm wrong, okay?! (horn honks)
Hey! What the hell are you guys doing?
This sandwich.
Where? They're right there!
You're dying, you bastard.
Oh, shit. I'm at an impound.
(phone chimes) Oh, shit, look.
Except why aren't we moving yet, Frank?
Lisa.
We found something. You have a very serious disease,
(sputtering)
Frank? Frank!
for each of you, then you're gonna be great.
There's a malignant tumor on your front lobe...
Right, okay, and you have your walkie, right?
Oh, shit. Where am I?
Need booze.
He is choking.
Go! Okay, I'm on it. I'm on it.
I know where I can get a rug real quick. What?
Whoa, look at those Winnebagos
We got the thing with the thing. Uh, the thing.
Frank, what? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
We're outside the bakery on 6th Street. Where the hell are you?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. No, wait, we'll go...
Am I in hell?!
Oh, what a day.
Look at the blueprint. Listen to the vain one.
Where the hell did I put that thing?
(grunting)
(grunts)
You're playing games with me, Frank.
I'm full of dog poison.