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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Sending a Joe Jack to hit them up for money is, well, kind of an insult.
We've been captured on our own soil.
(Cotton) Hey, a bayonet.
Zip it, boy! I'm trying to watch my nudie channel. Now, get along.
Those vets are three months behind on their propane bill.
Over there!
And some sandwiches.
Besides, I tried to enlist...
I screwed up.
Dad, you wait here.
Dad, are you selling your medals?
Kept the glove, though.
[humming]
Chicken and apple, breakfast patty...
You're in a long line, behind cable, hooch, and scooch.
You think you're getting your propane bill paid.
There's got to be a way out of here.
Careful. That's an antique falconer's glove. Belonged to Hermann Goering.
Easy there, big boy.
then back to the glove.
(Hank) Oh, no.
They looked like little angels sleeping there.
-How come I can't get it together? -It's not a race, man.