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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
You burned my bed?
That'd be real nice, Pop.
Well, power to the people.
- You ain't got it. - You think so, huh?
This is the big one (heart attack)! I'm coming to join you Elizabeth!
Say, Pop, cigarettes will kill you. Don't you believe me?
I'm not supposed to tire myself out.
No, that won't be necessary. I'll be with you in a moment.
Pop, would you quit that! Now you're panicking.
Get in there!
Lean it against the chair here.
- I know what it is. - What?
- For what? - 'Cause they're killing you.
Now take your jackets off, please.
I won't need my glasses much longer.
- Thirty-one. - Thirty.
Oh, Lamont, you're lookin' at a dead man.
Do my cheeks look flushed?
I feel kinda tired.
Open this door, you old buzzard! Open this...
Even Marcus Welby couldn't get him out.
All right, fine. Why don't you have a seat right here...
You done forced it on me.
- Would you put this in the safe for me? - What is it?
- But I'm dying, Pop. - You ain't dying. You're a young fella.
I'll get you for this! I'm gonna get you for this!
I want to die in my own bed. Promise me you won't let 'em take me.
Well, adios, old fellow.
- I ain't going in there. - Would you go in there.
Why didn't you just burn the room?