Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Jean would.
It's a bit late for all that, Gaz. I mean...
- You can't just take stuff. - Sorry, mate.
It's for your gnomes, really. Not you.
No. Not doing it.
No, nobody told me.
He knows me. He plastered our bathroom a while back.
Stay still, stay still.
We could try and sneak into Man U. Terry said...
Does not care over Chloe, huh, Tusks? Canjorie?
A.J., It's not that type, really. Ellie, Your dad's doctor.
They're gonna be looking at us like that.
We can do without him.
You got any work?
I got a stiffy!
Come on, Dave! It's not for me, it's a funeral!
It's all right, Nathan. It's right, is this. I've seen 'em do it.
'Ey, now, Dave, I mean... It's worth a thought, though, innit?
- What are you doing out here, kid? - Nov-vi. Walking home.
She's miles away! See you later. Good luck.
Take a long hard look in the mirror.
Brilliant, aren't they?
Dave!
No, thank you.
I try dieting.
Ten quid to watch some fucking poof get his kit off! Ten quid!
Do you think he might, though?
What happened to the security guard?
Yeah, I got that. If that's what you call it.
Women only, you tosser!
Anyway, it's like clingfilm.
That'll be for t'court to decide.
Left touchline, three, four.
£100, please.
Maybe I should.
22... 27 pence.
No, look. .. I know it don't look good.
Two weeks. That's what the man said, and he's not taking the piss.
10,000 quid.
Don't they?
- Look! Who's that? - It's that guy!
- I've come to pick up my son. - Oh, right...
Come on, come on! Come on, come on!
Perhaps you better had.
They bloody are, you know.
Find Auntie Jean and tell her Uncle Dave wants a word outside.
I can cope with losing the sunbed.
we're doing it right.
He's got the hump about Asda.
Think of Jean's face when she sees you dancing like Flashdance.
- Someone's got a sunbed, Gerald! - It's Linda's, and no, you bloody can't!
- Bastard! - Fucking hell!
- You wrap it round, reduce the fat... - She swears by it!
Shit!
I didn't go on the nick in Asda for some chuffing women's DIY video.
- What's up? Are you shy? - Don't! Shut it, all right?
One, two, three, four.
No.
Big man.
He's not coming.
What do you want now? I told you, I'm finished with you.
You can't hardly see t'join.
No. No way.
- What if we get caught? - You don't get a record till you're 16.
Nathan!
three, four. Now the socks...
Strippers?
What's all this about sole custody?
And you wouldn't say to me,
Do you need a hand?
Gary Schofield.
I want the application letters finished by the time I get back.
- You're ahead. - Oh, go... bollocks!
I'm ont' dole, in case you hadn't noticed!
after such a long lay-off, do you think you're up to the job?
- All of 'em? - Well, yeah. I think so.
Can fellas use this an' all?
no bugger robs pipes in the buff.
You never know, there might be a job in it for you boys.
Course he bloody does! Ask him!