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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
TRINETTE: What? - Breast cancer. And, yes, seriously.
Aww, Goatley.
WOODHOUSE: Archer residence. - So the thing is, Lana... Here's the thing...
I don't have breast cancer.
Hey, can you not? Right now?
Too soon?
I spent last night in the Tombs getting worked over by the cops.
- I don't wanna use one... - Yes.
Yeah? Well I hope I don't!
- Right? - You can't tattoo a freaking baby.
I mean, you know. I drink socially
- Yeah, where were you? - The cafeteria.
Not yours, shitbrain. His.
[SOBBING]
Everybody, say hello to my friend Chet Manley.
And now Mr. Archer is...
- Dr. Spelts? - Uh...
I meant the first phone call.
Nothing came out of my fucking asshole Now get the fuck out of my damn way, bitch
...and Dicky and I have been planning this trip ever since, and...
A what? That... What are you...? I don't have one of those.
- Ass. - That's the good news.
Still too soon.
How about I slip somebody 100 bucks to throw acid in your face?
What the shit!!!!!
I did your cancer surgery like two hours ago?
- Prepaid, huh? - Yes, sir.
- I'm not, I swear. This is about... - Breast cancer? Oh, you poor thing.
.
Talk about a downer double whammy, huh?