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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Anyway, Tanker‘s hurt. Twisted his ankle.
Not that you don‘t make a very nice—looking young woman as well.
Ah, excuse me.
Just go out there and write down all the markings you can find.
Got arrested the next year for punching a milk horse.
Don‘t nobody move. This is a stickup.
Fragments came through the office.
It‘s a propaganda bomb.
— Hello? Operator, we‘ve been cut off. — What did Headquarters say?
— What about the bomb? — You have to determine ifthe bomb is still ticking.
Here are the tools.
— This is Armed Forces Radio Service—— -Sir, $1,000!
Hello? Hel—— Yes, yes, please hold.
— Morning, Radar. — Hi, Father.
the navy thinks it detonates itselfin two minutes.
Unless, ofcourse, the bomb don‘t go off.
There‘s an electric excitement in the stands...
The army? What do they know?
I run across that field and tape that leg good and tight, then run off.
I‘ll tell you later.
I hope so too, otherwise I‘m gonna come back in the next life as a squirrel...
No sad songs.
— The CIA has their own bombs? — Yep, and it‘s one oftheirs.
Call me at halftime, will you, Captain?