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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Polly parrot, wake up!
It's dead, that's what's wrong with it.
Frittering your life away
Get off, go on, all of you.
What?
They blow it all on milk, bread, tea, tin of meat for the cat.
This man's hair is too long for a vicar, too.
And did those feet in ancient times
It's... it's like, uh... you know...
Oh, well, mr. robinson's cave
On the end.
Stockbrokers and even sociologists
it was a pun!
And I'm looking at one right now.
As soon as they get their hands on their money
Apart from that he's perfectly all right.
That parrot is definitely deceased.
No barley, cross fingers, sir.
Now I've got to stand in the tea chest.
You're doing all right here Aren't you, colonel?
And half the moss drops off the cave wall
It has ceased to be.
And some of 'em Have got tanks.
Oh, dear, hello, hello?
Still, there's one thing about being a hermit--
Last time I said mattress.
£800, yes, sir.
And grenades, sir, and machine guns, sir.
Oh, no, no, no.
Right, you two hermits
Shove you off the pavement, like.
Yeah, now she can't do without it.
That was you pushing the cage.