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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Spare me the prima donna act.
Did you trace that call?
Chase, chase.
She's still in the bowl?
Here's Johnny!
Herr Schuster and Frau Schuster.
With help from your fellow actors, you improvise as you go.
Ow!
But I am Dr. Ludmilla Kropotkin.
but neither are the thrills in London's interactive theater experience:
I won't have to go on stage, will I?
There.
I don't trust you?
But I think we can offer you a more rewarding scenario...
Maybe.
I want a ThighMaster and I want a ButtMaster.
Who else knows about these letters, Mr. Ritchie?
Hey.
I would like fresh flowers in my room. Rare tropical flowers...
And now, it's you.
Bye-bye.
Is she going out with anybody in the cast?
Are you?
- Help me! He's going to kill me! - Give me that phone!
You are so twisted.
Always. You're right.
Um...
we begin with soft tissue.
Heh. I'm sorry, sir.
I could do with some of that, sometimes.
Wait up, Lori!
- Did you trace that call? - Yes, sir.
happy birthday
- Did you tell him? - Of course not.
- Sir Roger. - Just think, Hawkins.
That's his plan.
We'd like you to join the team.
happy birthday
Who you are working for?
If you hold it a bit lower down, you get more of a flick.
Yeah, tell me anything you want! Come on!
Dr. Ludmilla...
You're not going to give them to me, are you?
You've got a great accent. Are you from here?
If you've got a sense of adventure, you can be a real star for a night.
How you doing...
Time out!
He knows every detail.
- Knock them dead, big brother. - There'll be bodies all over the place.
Happy birthday, sir.
Freeze!
Ha-ha-ha. This is great.
Where's Gilbert? I heard a shot.
Aah! I'm flying!
- What's that in real money? - Pick up the phone.
The letters are upstairs in the spare room. You go get them. I'll keep watch, okay?
I think she's going to do that, don't you, pal?
Excuse me, are...?
I never thought anybody could forget so much so fast without a blow to the head.
Two bags worth. Whoa!
Thanks. These actors don't know when to stop.
- Uh... - Ahem.
Boris, come quickly.
Who are the goddamn Germans?
Back in the straightaway...
Good God!
Sure.
Jimmy. Jimmy.
Trump's "Advisors"
(After surgery) That is so refreshing!
No, Mr. Ritchie.
This is Mr. Ritchie. My brother is doing your show.
Two guys with knives took my wallet. I got nervous, they were so nervous.
You are shit You are
Trump's "Advisers"
Okay. Heh. Okay.
Dear God, I'll give you anything you want. Just name your price.
- That's the worst. Here, get a towel. - Ugh.
What's that?
I go after the brother.
One of those audience-participation things.
- Give me the money or I'll cut you! - Let me just do my line, first.
Whoa!
Those sons of bitches blew up my Nikita in '79.
Oh, you're together.
- We are kidding. - We are only acting.
I'm sorry.
He works in the Featherstone Finch bank. James Ritchie.
I want to do kids or old people one day a week.
happy bir
Actually...