Archer, Season 1

Archer:
I have to go. But if I find one single dog hair when I get back, I'll rub...sand...in your dead little eyes.

Woodhouse:
Very good, sir.

Archer:
[pause] I also need you to go buy sand.

Woodhouse:
Yes, sir.

Archer:
I don't know if they grade it, but... coarse.

Krenshaw:
Jesus, Archer. Do you think this is a game?

Archer:
No, I think Jenga's a game, and...

Krenshaw:
What if I'd been real KGB?

Archer:
I assume you would be trying to suck a promotion out of some Russian guy's cock.

Krenshaw:
Well, maybe I never get promoted...

Archer:
...and never will...

Krenshaw:
...because my mommy's not the boss!

Archer:
And maybe you just got your face kicked off! [Archer puts his foot in Krenshaw's face] That is my foot in your face. Smell the embarrassme- [Krenshaw shocks Archer's foot with a golf cart battery]

Mallory:
ISIS isn't your own personal travel agency. It doesn't exist just so you can jet off to... Whore Island!

Archer:
That's not... a real place.

Mallory:
I have fifty agents who would literally kill to move up to your position. And if you don't square up your operations account by Monday, they won't need to. Your position will be vacant! Sterling!

Archer:
Sorry, I was picturing Whore Island.

Mallory:
Have I made myself clear?!

Archer:
You're looking for the answer "yes"?

Mallory:
Yes.

Archer:
Then yes.

Archer:
There's my favorite section head!

Pam:
I am dealing with the breakroom problem!

Archer:
Oh, good, you caught the, uh, oh wait, I had something good for this... the... "Pita Predator".

Pam:
You know what?

Archer:
...Sorry, let's just call it what it is: food rapist.

Pam:
Not a pretty name, is it?

Archer:
[to Pam] I'll throw these doughnuts on the ground so you can pretend they're marbles and you're a hungry hungry... [Pam abruptly shuts the door on Archer] ...hungry hippo.

Archer:
What are you doing?

Cyril:
Oh. Just dicing veggies for dinner. I always make Lana stirfry for dinner on Friday.

Archer:
Neat. Listen...

Cyril:
[very excitedly] Guess what we call it!

Archer:
"Stir Friday?"

Cryil:
[long pause] Wow. That's actually better.

Archer:
It's all yours. So come let me in the mainframe.

[Later]

Archer:
And after I gave you "Stir Friday!"

Cyril:
Yeah, that is much better.

Archer:
I know.

Archer:
So, obviously, it would be a lot easier for me if you just disabled all that when you left work tonight... somehow.

Cheryl:
Ooh, that would make me... uncomfortable.

Archer:
Ugh, God, everything makes you uncomfortable!

[Archer and Cheryl are naked and on the floor of his apartment]

Archer:
Just the tip?

[Archer is behind Cheryl now, who is on all fours]

Archer:
Just the tip?

[Archer is waving an ice cream cone in front of Cheryl]

Archer:
Just the tip!

[in the present]

Archer:
How was I supposed to know you're lactose intolerant?

Cheryl:
Because I kept screaming it!

[Later]

Cheryl:
Are... are you gonna pay for your lunch?

Archer:
Just the tip. [Pause] Actually, I don't have any cash on me. Could you... get it? I also need cab fare. Awww, Ugly Duckling. Bork Bork.

Archer:
Well, thanks for nothing, Carol. Now I need to break into ISIS headquarters in a $900 turtleneck. And if it gets ruined I'll make you drink heavy cream, you... Carol!

[Archer zip-lines across to the roof of ISIS]

Archer:
Wow, that was actually pretty easy! Thanks, new turtleneck! [rips his turtleneck] Aw, f- And thank you, duffle bag!

Archer:
Holy shit, our security is atrocious. Seriously, it's really bad.

[He sits at the computer, which prompts him for a password]

Archer:
Password. Hmm, password? How about "Guest".

[He types in "Guest" and it works]

Archer:
No way! It can't be. Jesus Christ, that is just... babytown frolics.

Archer:
Do not wind her up. That is a big gun and she is baby crazy.

Lana:
"Baby crazy"?!

Archer:
That's why I broke up with her.

Lana:
You lying-! You sack of shit! I broke up with you because you're carrying around a 35-year-old umbilical cord!

Archer:
See?! All you talk about is baby shit! Because you're baby crazy!

Lana:
You want to see crazy?!

Archer:
No! I've seen that movie and, spoiler alert, it ends with a closet full of my suits on fire!

Lana:
I wish you'd been wearing one!

Archer:
Who would want to wear an on-fire suit!

Lana:
Cosplay enthusiasts!

Archer:
What?

Lana:
Wait! No! Shit!

[Krenshaw walks in on Archer breaking into the mainframe]

Archer:
Hey! I was just talking about you, and about how this isn't what it looks like.

Krenshaw:
Lot of that going around.

Archer:
Yeah, it's an epidemic.

Krenshaw:
For example, my real name is Kremenski.

Archer:
Is that... sound... is that Jewish?

Krenshaw:
It's Russian.

Archer:
Um. [long pause] Russian Jewish?

Krenshaw:
I'm the mole, idiot.

[Later]

Archer:
Lana! Krenshaw's a mole! And his real name isn't Krenshaw, it's Kremenski. Definitely Russian! Possibly a Jew! Thoughts?

Kremensky:
Picture her, dead in the gutter, and what your pathetic life would be like without old Mommy Dearest.

Lana:
[Held at gunpoint by Archer] JESUS CHRIST! He's got an ERECTION!

Krenshaw:
[holding Malory hostage, but suddenly pushes her away] What is wrong with you people!?

Archer:
[shoots Krenshaw] Me? Nothing! You, on the other hand- [Mallory hits Archer with her handbag] What's in there, buckles?

Mallory:
AN ERECTION?! The thought of me dying gives you an erection?!

Archer:
Just half of one. The other half would have missed you. Oh wait...

Archer:
Johnny Bench called.

Cyril:
Yep, see here? Kremensky just stole 50,000 from Archer's acount. Must have been doing it all along.

Archer:
Apology accepted. Ass douche.

Cyril:
Hey!

Archer:
What?

Lana:
[Points a gun at Archer] Call him that again.

Archer:
Make me!

Lana:
What?

Archer:
What? Mother, do you see this! This is a hostile work environment.

Malory:
[noticing doughnuts scattered across the floor] Oh, for heaven's sake... do you want ants? Because that's how you get ants!

Archer:
So, obviously I'm not happy about this whole arrangement, but...

Cyril:
But your mother is, so...

Archer:
But I wonder what Lana thinks about...

Cyril:
Lana's not "need to know" this.

Archer:
Wow. "Open purse, remove balls," huh?

Cyril:
Besides, I'm sure it's not the first time you've kept a secret from Lana.

Archer:
Uh hello! Herpes?!

Cyril:
YOU GAVE LANA HERPES?!

[Cheryl gasps loudly]

Cyril:
Hello, Cheryl.

Cheryl:
It's Carol.

Archer:
Wha- Since when?

Cheryl:
Since I had it legally changed because you always call me Carol.

Archer:
Well that's just... Excuse us.

[Cyril and Archer walk away]

Cyril:
What is this herpes business?

Archer:
Bad joke. And a false alarm.

Archer:
This is what a real field agent uses.

[Archer gives Cyril a new pen]

Cyril:
The point is a lot finer than I prefer.

Archer:
That's because it's a hypodermic needle and the cartridge is full of a deadly super-toxin called poiso... caine. [puts the pen in Cyril's shirt-pocket] Keep it in here. But be careful, because the cap slips off for, like, no reason.

Archer:
Oh, I'm crazy? Cyril, you're the one who killed a perfectly good hooker.

Malory:
Immigrants! That's how they do, you know. Just drive around listening to raps and shooting all the jobs.

Archer:
Oh my God, you killed a hooker!

Cyril:
Call girl! She was a call girl!

Archer:
No, Cyril, when they're dead, they're just hookers!

Cyril:
Will I get to learn karate?

Archer:
Karate?! The Dane Cook of martial arts?! No. ISIS agents use Krav Maga.

Cyril:
When would you use an underwear gun?

Archer:
Hopefully never. But say you're in a Caribbean bungalow, and you're kind of high, an exotic woman on the bed. Now is she just the high-priced whore you asked for? Or is she an... assassin?

Cyril:
I don't know.

Archer:
Oh, here's room service. Who ordered champagne?

Cyril:
Ah. How should I know?

Archer:
Exactly. You're baked. You can't remember. But since when does it take three huge surly Jamaican guys to deliver one bottle of champagne?

Cyril:
Ohh. Because they're assassins too?

Archer:
Or.. Maybe one guy's a new waiter. The second one's training him, and the third's from maintenance, finally off his lazy ass to fix the A.C.

Cyril:
Oh, yeah. I guess that could happen.

Archer:
Point is, you come out of the john waving this around... no one's gonna bug you for a tip.

Cheryl:
Hey, Pam, check this out.

[Pam looks at computer]

Pam:
Holy shit snacks!

Malory:
We have snacks?!

Pam:
Holy hell, what happened to you?

Malory:
Scatterbrain Jane...

Lana:
Hey, Jane! [pulls out a switch blade] Gettin' a snack?

[Later]

Lana:
Hey, Jane! [pulls out a switch blade] Gettin' a tampon?

Archer:
I am the best at this, Rain Man! OK. I'm like...

Cyril:
Who? James Bond?

Archer:
Well, I don't like to invite that comparison, but yeah, basically.

Cyril:
So do something!

Archer:
I'm doing all kinds of stuff, Cyril. I'm shooting the gun, see. I'm driving the car.

Cyril:
I could drive better than that.

Archer:
So knock yourself out. I'm ejecting.

Cyril:
Oh no you are not. you are totally not...

Archer:
I totally am.

Cyril:
How did you know where I was?

Lana:
When we first started going out, I may have...[quickly] injected a tracking device into your body.

Cyril:
In my body?

Lana:
Baby? Hon?

Cyril:
No no, now that is a breach of trust, Lana.

Lana:
Do you really want to open this can of trust-breachy worms right after I just caught you and my ex-boyfriend with a dead hooker in the trunk?

Cyril:
I do not.

Lana:
You do not.

Cyril:
Oh, I think we're pretty diverse.

Lana:
Ha! Please...

Archer:
What? You're black... ish...

Lana:
"ISH?"

Archer:
Well, what's the word for it, Lana? You freaked out when I said "Quadroon!"

Lana:
Imagine that!

Archer:
You imagine it!

Malory:
Both of you, imagine shutting up!

Lana:
[about Conway] And what do we know about this guy?

Archer:
Only that he's uncircumcised.

Lana:
[Pause] Okay, glossing over how you know that-

Archer:
We touched penises.

Lana:
NO! GLOSSING! But wait, an uncircumsized Jewish guy? Isn't that kinda weird to you?

Archer:
What's weird about that? I'm not Jewish but I am circum-

Lana:
That's not how it works!

Archer:
Oh Lana, I think we both know it works just fine.

Lana:
Not your penis!

[Archer is hammering some paper into a shredder using a stapler]

Lana:
What are you doing?

Archer:
Uh, none-of-your-business-ing. And what kind of spy agency skimps on a freaking shredder?

Lana:
OK, fine, I can't prove anything right now.

Mallory:
That didn't stop J. Edna Hoover from persecuting Martin Luther King, now did it?

Lana:
What does that have to do... Wait, J. Edna?

Mallory:
You never heard that? How Hoover was a huge cross-dressing chicken hawk?

Lana:
I had not.

Mallory:
Well that's exactly the kind of slanderous and unsubstantiated rumor that I will not tolerate at ISIS. Think about that while you're on suspension.

Lana:
While I'm on what?!

Mallory:
What are you, deaf and racist?

Lana:
I'm black!

Mallory:
Oh, put it back in the deck.

Cyril:
Yeah, she's kind of weird that way.

Conway:
Yeah, she's kind of weird a bunch of ways.

Pam:
And don't go starting rumors about Conway boning your mother.

[Archer throws up]

Pam:
You get any of that in the trashcan?

Archer:
No. I missed on purpose.

Conway:
It's a silent submarine propulsion system called the "Whisper Drive". [...] This is Wilhelm Schmeck, inventor of the Whisper Drive. Yesterday, Schmeck went missing, along with the plans for the Whisper Drive. I've tracked him to South Beach where he's arranged to sell the plans to Cuban Naval Intelligence. If that happens, undetectable Cuban missile subs could be parked right off Miami Beach.

Mallory:
Ugh, just what Miami needs... More Cubans.

Archer:
Lana, call Kenny Loggins... 'cuz you're in the Danger Zone.

[Lana slaps Archer]

Lana:
I want you to listen to me.

Archer:
Then unperforate my eardrum.

Lana:
Un... head up your ass.

[Archer and Conway are hugging after they completed their mission. Conway stabs Archer in the back]

Archer:
Conway?

Conway:
Yeah, buddy.

Archer:
Are there more bad guys behind me?

Conway:
Nope.

Archer:
You dick.

Conway:
You haven't seen the last of Conway Stern... Which is not my real name.

Malory:
And I don't want another one of your sullen whores using my medicine cabinet like a Pez dispenser.

Archer:
You said no dates.

Malory:
I said no such thing.

Archer:
Well, your mouth did.

Malory:
Well, your mouth better get over there and make Torvald happy!

Archer:
Um, phrasing?

Malory:
[to Archer] Regale him with tales of ISIS exploits. Take his mind off Lana's huge Johnny Benchian fingers.

Lana:
Could we get off my fingers?

Cyril:
Yeah, they are pretty big.

Lana:
First time I've heard you complain.

Archer:
All I've had today is, like, six gummy bears and some scotch.

Dr. Krieger:
[on Elke] Like to get a physical from her.

Cyril:
Or with her.

Lana:
[performing painful nerve hold on Cyril] I wonder if Dr. Panty Model knows how many pounds of pressure it takes to snap a human collarbone.

Cyril:
She probably uses the metric system.

Pam:
Yeah, what do they use-kilowatts?

Dr. Krieger:
No. In this case, it would be pascals.

Cheryl:
Hey, Europe: be gayer.

Malory:
Lana, release him!

Lana:
As you wish. [She releases Cyril] I find your lack of faith disturbing.

Cyril:
I find your mannish hands disturbing.

Pam:
I think they're kinda sexy.

Lana:
Excuse me?

Cheryl:
They're fingers, Pam. Not kielbasas.

Archer:
[as Mallory rings a dinner bell] Wow. Forgot how much I hate that.

Malory:
Oh, that's right. I kept it on the nightstand to wake nanny whenever Sterling wet the bed.

Archer:
[as everybody laughs] Mother!

Cheryl:
Wait, whose bed?

Woodhouse:
It was always "don't ask, don't tell."

Archer:
Woodhouse! What are you doing?!

Woodhouse:
Uh, sitting down, sir.

Archer:
What, at the table?!

Malory:
Sterling.

Archer:
Like people?!

Malory:
Sterling!

Archer:
What?! Look, he thinks he's people!

Woodhouse:
[as everyone wonders what to with the bodies of Utne & Elke] I shall fetch a rug!

Malory:
But they were blanks! Weren't they?

Archer:
Only if the back of his skull picked that exact moment to explode outwards.

Cyril:
[carrying Torvald's body] I should be carrying her.

Archer:
[carrying Elke's body] Cyril, I paid her, I get to carry her corpse.

[All dialogue and action unseen]

Malory:
All right, drop them there next to that awful Louis Quinze repro. [Thump, clatter] Now, then. We want this to look like a classic hooker/murder/suicide. So... Cyril, take Sterling's gun and pump a round into his prostitute.

Cyril:
Wait, what?!

Malory:
Everyone shoots the chippy! That way, we're all in it together. Think of it as a team-building exercise.

Cyril:
But ODIN gets to go on Outward Bound.

Malory:
Well, ODIN can suck it! Now shoot!

Cyril:
Oh, Jesus.

[Muffled gunshot]

Cheryl:
Ew.

Malory:
You're next.

Archer:
God, Cyril, that was... [gunshot] pathetic.

Cyril:
Shut up.

Malory:
Come on! Everybody shoots!

Pam:
Hey, I wanna go!

[Five muffled gunshots]

Malory:
Now, Sterling, drop your gun between the bodies...

Archer:
No! Have you ever seen CSI? This is already like Clue Town.

Malory:
Not for long. Dr Krieger, dear...

Archer:
Wha... oh.

Malory:
Cyril, call 911 from their phone and leave it off the hook, and... Sterling!

Archer:
But this gun-it was a gift.

Malory:
Oh, please! Nobody gives you gifts!

Archer:
You don't know.

Malory:
Whatever you say, dear. Dr. Krieger.

[Flick of a lighter, slight plume of flame]

Cyril:
Oh, hot potato!

Archer:
We still didn't get the UN contract.

Malory:
Oh, but I will. And I'll get to see Trudy Beekman try to explain this little barbecue to the co-op board!

Woodhouse:
That smell takes me back-just like a Zambesi feast.

Pam:
Yeah, I'm kinda hungry. Is that weird?

Malory:
It would be weirder if you weren't.

Cheryl:
Oh, I thought we were laughing at the dead people we set on fire.

Mallory:
Oh, all Hispanics look roguish.

Archer:
[Wearing only a towel and baseball catcher's mask] WOODHOUSE! Do we have any lube? Like at this point even some olive oil would [finds his mother in the living room] help me get that drawer unstuck.

Mallory:
And don't even get me started on Miss Gillette.

[Meanwhile, at the office]

Gillette:
[To Pam and Cheryl] She has never liked me. But someday I'm gonna write a book about this place. Mhm, a real smackaroonie.

Charles:
Oh my god, you like... sneeze glitter.

Charles:
What? Normal as opposed to gay?

Rudy:
Implying that gay is abnormal?

Archer:
Not abnormal, just... gay!

Charles:
Yeah. Latino men, you take the bad with the good.

Charles:
Oh my god, yes. Those NAZI uniforms?

Rudy:
Hugo Boss!

Charles:
Shut up!

Rudy:
Swear to god.

Woodhouse:
Sir, that stolen lemur bit one of your prostitutes right in the face and she says she can't go to hospital because she's, quote, "tripping balls."

Mallory:
Jesus GOD, Sterling, schoolgirls?

Archer:
No! They're just costumes.

Mallory:
And I suppose that makes it better?

Archer:
...Doesn't it?

[Later]

Woodhouse:
I have ascertained the target, sir. He's actually quite handsome.

Archer:
And I suppose that makes it better?

Woodhouse:
Doesn't it?

[Later]

Mallory:
Don't tell me that you set this whole thing up just so you could get me to move in with you and your mother!

Maj. Nikolai Jackov:
No, no! It was just merely incompetence.

Mallory:
And I suppose that makes it better?

Maj. Nikolai Jackov:
Doesn't it?

Archer:
Jesus, Krieger, you're still taping bum fights?

Krieger:
No, now I'm into something... darker.

Krieger:
I've developed a proprietary chemical compound which may come in handy. I call it Formula K.

Archer:
And it makes you temporarily gay?

Krieger:
I dunno. Just started human testing [whispering] by dosing Danny the Intern's coffee.

Danny the Intern:
[in singsong voice] Danny is definitely feeling something!

Archer:
I'll pass.

Krieger:
Suit yourself. [Takes a pill] Just means more for me and Danny.

Danny the Intern:
[singsong] Who is LOV-ing it!

Archer:
Way the Christ out in the Everglades burying some Dominican guy's rooster!

Charles:
Fun! Wha- Oh, you mean literally.

Ramón:
Mamá always said, "Ramón, un hombre real debe saber cocinar." ["A real man should know how to cook"]

Archer:
Mine always said, "Sterling, come in here and check me for lumps." Holy shit, was that out loud?

Woodhouse:
From the looks of it, and not to mention the lemur, I would hazard he's taking a personal day.

Woodhouse:
Sir, the lemur bit one of the schoolgirls and she says she cannot go to the hospital because she is, quote, "tripping balls".

Woodhouse:
I'm afraid the lemur got into the pudding cups.

Archer:
Yeah, like I told you he would! You idiot!

Cheryl:
I think that's hot, like somebody murdering me is so... intimate.

[Later, discussing her fetish]

Cheryl:
You seriously don't think that's hot?

Pam:
I seriously think you're scary.

Cheryl:
No no no no, like, a big, sweaty fireman carries you out of a burning building, lays you on the sidewalk and you think, "yeah, okay, he's gonna give me mouth-to-mouth", but instead he just starts choking the shit out of you, and the last sensation that you feel before you die is he is squeezing your throat so hard that a big, wet, blob of drool drips off his teeth and just, flurp, falls right onto your popped-out eyeball.

[Awkward pause]

Pam:
Jesus Christ!

Charles:
We bought those for him and if you throw them off the roof I will fly to New York and fling acid in your face.

Archer:
Out macho a gay guy? Oh my stars!

Charles:
Hmm, or you could be a sarcastic bitch your whole life.

Charles:
Okay, we're off to get our scrotums waxed!

Archer:
Yeah? Well, I'm dangerous and I'm going to win and GAY SEX!

Archer:
So, are you two even really gay!?

Charles:
As big ol' tangerines, yes.

Archer:
How do you say "The Hulk" in Spanish?

Ramone:
"El Hulk".

Archer:
Gay.

Ramone:
What? We don't have a word for "Hulk".

Archer:
Do you have a word for "gay"?

Ramone:
Gay.

Archer:
Gayer! Jesus, Spanish! Our jobs aren't enough; now you gotta take our words?

Archer:
[Stifling laughter] Woodhouse: he's all tied up somewhere, sc-scared and alone. PROBABLY DEHYDRATED!

Archer:
Cyril, c'mon. Worst case scenario, her cover got blown and Skorpio's raping her senseless before he chops her battered corpse up into fish food.

[Everyone gasps]

Archer:
What? I said worst case.

Pam:
You know, I think we're making some real progress.

Cheryl:
Where, in opposite world? We're never gonna finish all this!

Pam:
We could, if certain people would help!

Krieger:
[Standing behind stacked cardboard boxes] I'm sorry, are you addressing me? Because your authority is not recognized in Fort Kickass.

Cyril:
I moved in with my last girlfriend after four weeks!

Lana:
What are you? A lesbian?

Pam:
Why, would you be into that? Just curious... which was an odd word choice right there... and am I talking out loud...?

Pam:
And that's the reason I never have sex with my coworkers. That... and no one ever lets me.

Krieger:
I've had good results with ether.

Krieger:
Every single noun and verb in that sentence totally arouses me.

Pam:
And I'm so open to that.

Krieger:
These corporate bag munchers owe me $630 for my GODDAMN FLEX ACCOUNT.

Malory:
But even though Cyril may be clingy...

Lana:
Oh, Saran Wrap could take a lesson.

Archer:
[After being distracted by Lana in her underwear] Right, because you walked into Strippers Discount Warehouse and said, 'Help me showcase my intellect'!

Malory:
Oh, shut up. And Cyril? Very eager to know why you're still here.

Lana:
He was just-

Cyril:
-just helping Lana get settled!

Archer:
Trust me, Cyril, she already settled.

Cheryl:
Pick one. Either A, I tell Lana what happened on that scratchy green office rug, or two, you get inside me.

Cyril:
Or C, maybe I just jam this mop into the engine and kill all of us.

Cheryl:
I don't think that's how blimps work.

Cyril:
Darn! Right, we just sort of float around. Stupid, naturally safe helium.

Cheryl:
But I am liking the jamming imagery... [She rips open her shirt] and the killing.

Cyril:
[To Pam, who's sitting nearby] And you are just going to sit there?

Pam:
Yeah, until she tags me in!

Pam:
So, you're ruining Cyril's life because, in your dream-the-impossible-dream world, it'll make Mr. Archer jealous?

Cheryl:
Oh, Pamela, you read me like a poem.

Pam:
Yeah? What's the poem gonna be about when Cyril snaps and murders you?

Cheryl:
I don't know. World's gushiest orgasm?

Archer:
Lana. Lana! LANA!!!

Lana:
WHAT?!?

Archer:
Danger Zone.

Lana:
Cyril is already freaked out enough about us sharing this shoebox without you air-drying your unkempt bush.

Archer:
Unkempt bush!? You're one to talk.

Lana:
My vulva is smoother than a veal cutlet!

Lana:
What would you say if I told you your mother made a phony bomb threat just to get a free ride on a blimp?

Archer:
I'd say that's fairly classic her.

Lana:
CAP-tain LAM-mers!

Archer:
Nice read, Velma.

Mallory:
You're driving Cyril straight toward another woman.

Lana:
Cyril? With another woman? Mallory, seriously. Look at me.

[Cut to Cheryl in bed, with Cyril on top on her, having sex, with Cyril choking Cheryl]

Cheryl:
Look at me! Look at and choke me! Oh, yes! Yes! Oh my God yes!

Cyril:
Oh, my God, what am I doing?

Pam:
[on the toilet in the open bathroom] You're ruining your life, you idiot! And making it hard to drop a deuce.

Pam:
Wow, you are just a dog in a manger.

Cheryl:
I don't know what that means, Pam. I didn't grow up on a cheese farm.

Pam:
Oh, for the- It's called a dairy.

[Malory and Pam are standing over an unconscious Cheryl]

Pam:
Cyril got in over his head and…

Malory:
Jesus God, did he kill her?!

Pam:
No. He ran from her, to go confess to Lana. But then this one starts freaking out and… I kinda had to drown her in the tub.

Malory:
So you killed her?

[Cheryl comes to, coughs up water and passes out again]

Pam:
Apparently not. So… good news.

[Lana finds Archer running away from the bomb]

Lana:
Where the f*** are you going?!

Archer:
To get my turtleneck! I'm not diffusing a bomb in this.

Captain Lammers:
The stock price could only go up, they said. Well guess what?

Archer:
Uh... it didn't?

Cyril:
[Wearing a small purple robe] Help me, Archer! I think I'm losing it here!

Archer:
Yeah, what gave it away, my mothers ro-WHY ARE YOU IN MY MOTHER'S ROBE?!

Cyril:
I can explain this!

Archer:
I don't think I want you to.

Archer:
There's your bomber: Beardsley McTurbanhead.

Pam:
God damn it! We're moving!

Cheryl:
I know!

Pam:
What happened to half an hour?!

Cheryl:
I lied!

[Cheryl walks in to find Cyril with his hand over Pam's mouth]

Cheryl:
Cyril! Are you cheating on me?

Cyril:
No. I'm just... uh... trying to get my muffin back.

Cheryl:
No you're not!

Cyril:
I'm not?

Cheryl:
Not like that, you're not. You gotta slug her in the diaphragm with a forearm shiver.

Cyril:
That's... ah... good to know.

Cheryl:
Do it! [Cyril slams Pam in the gut. She collapses and vomits on the floor] And no muffin. See? Time lost is muffin lost.

Lana:
What are you doing back there?

Archer:
I don't know!

Lana:
What, are you just hitting random keys?

Archer:
Well, obviously!

[Lana and Archer are trying to equip for their mission while all the "Drones" are on strike]

Lana:
Yes, we need a code cloner! Duh!

[Archer appears, wearing night-vision goggles and carrying shovels]

Archer:
These were all I could find. I'm thinking: goggles, yes; shovels, I don't know how or why we'd use them.

Lana:
[To Malory] So as you can see, we are completely unprepared for this mission!

Archer:
[Wearing night-vision goggles and holding a shovel] Unless it involves night-shoveling.

Archer:
Cyril. Cyril! CYRIL!

Cyril:
What?!

Archer:
I'm rescuing Lana, as usual!

Cyril:
Hey, shut up!

Cheryl:
I love that you know how to do that.

Krieger:
And I love that I have an erection... that doesn't involve homeless people.

Archer:
Frickin' ODIN.

Lana:
How many are there?

Archer:
About a gillion.

Lana:
Dammit.

Archer:
A gillion gay, little copy-cats.

Lana:
What?

Archer:
I didn't invent the turtleneck, Lana. But I was the first to see its potential as a tactical garment. The Tactical Turtleneck, Lana. The... Tactleneck!

Pam:
Holy shit, you geeks are badass.

Lana:
We'll never catch him in this thing!

Archer:
Maybe you should've thought about that before you blew the damn drop!

Lana:
I blew jack shit!

Archer:
Name dropper.

Archer:
ODIN doesn't beat Sterling Archer! Only Sterling Archer beats... [He trails off as he realizes he's lost the target.]

Lana:
Do you wanna finish that thought?

Archer:
Do you wanna shut your big, fat, negative-wordsy mouth?!

Trexler:
[after Archer hits a polo ball out the window] God, you're a natural! Bet it's all that lacrosse at boarding school, no doubt.

Archer:
Yeah, 13 years' worth.

Trexler:
13 years?! What, did she ship you off in kindergarten?! Gosh, that must've been tough.

Archer:
No, I loved it. Uh... made a lot of good friends. [Quick cutaway to a young Archer sitting alone on the lacrosse field] Family, almost, is what they were.

Trexler:
Speaking of, how's your mother taking all this?

Archer:
Oh, please. I bet she doesn't even miss me.

[Cut to ISIS]

Malory:
[drunk on absinthe] Because he'll be back, crying for his mommy! Just like that Christmas break when I moved and forgot to give my new address to his stupid boarding school. [Cheryl gasps.] I mean, he rode the train into the city all by himself. He couldn't pick up a phone book? Nine years old, and bawling in that police station like a little girl! What's that tell you?

Cheryl:
Kind of a lot, actually.

Malory:
Oh, shut up. I bet you're barren.

Malory:
I don't care if he's happy!

Trexler:
Well, that's obvious.

Malory:
Meaning what exactly?!

Trexler:
Meaning who leaves a nine-year-old in a police station on Christmas?!

Malory:
Eve! And he told you about that?

Trexler:
Oh, we've had such great talks.

Malory:
Fire him!

Trexler:
Join him! Come work for me.

Malory:
Have you lost your mind?!

Trexler:
Every time I see you.

Malory:
Fire him.

Trexler:
Can't do it.

Malory:
Can't or won't?

Trexler:
Either?

Lana:
No, as a matter of fact, I don't have Barry on speed-dial.

Cyril:
Well, gee, that's rather surprising.

Lana:
You know what's surprising? Kissing you goodbye at the airport, dozing off in first class, and then seeing you on my flight when I get up to pee! That, to me, is rather surprising.

Cyril:
And really expensive, turns out.

Lana:
No! Baby, I am putting you in the corner.

Lana:
Telex. You got one in here?

Archer:
Why? So you can smash that too?

Lana:
No.

Archer:
[Talking over Lana] Because I'm pretty sure I'm financially responsible for the furnishings!

Archer:
Mother burned me?

Lana:
Apparently.

Archer:
Oh, my god, that's classic her.

Lana:
You're both classic her.

Pam:
Looks like Jonestown in here.

Malory:
Yes, Pam, get me some poison, because I am already dead inside.

Pam:
Too dead inside to read good news?

Malory:
Is it my obituary?

Pam:
Well, it's not that good.

Malory:
And?

Pam:
And…

Malory:
And are you going to loom over me all day, like some sort of… henge?

Archer:
Let's talk this out.

Lana:
Talk what out?! How you ruined my chance to work for ODIN?! Or-ooh!-maybe how I just caught my boyfriend balls deep in some French chick!

Archer:
Ex-boyfriend, I bet.

Lana:
Oh, you think?!

Archer:
Yeah, he's not coming back. That chick was, like, the Pelé of anal.

Archer:
[To Lana] Oh, OK! Then I guess just pout!

Cyril:
You've cheated on Lana plenty.

Archer:
Yeah, but with starlets, models. Oh, and one time, two actual princesses.

Pam:
Two at the same time?

Archer:
Yeah. They were sisters.

Pam:
Sploosh!

Archer:
You just destroyed my innocence!

Mallory:
Oh, please! That Brazilian au pair did that when you were 13.

Archer:
12!

Cheryl:
I'm sorry, Krieger, but it's over. So here's all your Creedence Clearwater albums back.

Krieger:
And now, a sad moon is on the rise.

Cheryl:
I know, devastating. But it's not you, it's your weak womany hands.

Krieger:
They're not...

Cheryl:
It's like being choked by a child. Which I thought would be hot, but...

Krieger:
No, wait! I'll take steroids!

Cheryl:
I can't wait! I need a man now, with monster hands.

Major Jackov:
[Discussing his plan to kidnap Archer] Turn him into, how you say, vole?

Russian Soldier:
I think you mean mole.

Major Jackov:
Ah?

Russian Soldier:
Mole. Vole is also rodent but more closely related to lemming.

[Lana has learned of Cyril's multiple affairs during their relationship]

Lana:
Okay, we've got the French chick, and Carol, and- anybody else, Ram-bone?

Cyril:
Uh, no...

["Scatterbrain" Jane walks by the open office door]

Jane:
Hi, Cyril. [laughing and coughing]

Cyril:
Well...

Lana:
Scatterbrain Jane?! Really?

Cyril:
Well, see, she had just been diagnosed with breast cancer...

Lana:
Oh right, I forgot, your dick's full of radiation and mastectomy coupons.

Cyril:
Boy, you are just so determined not to be cool about this.

Lana:
Yuuup.

Krieger:
[as his mechanical robot hand chokes Cheryl] Oh, God! Sorry!

[He shuts the hand off]

Cheryl:
What are you doing?!

Krieger:
I thought you said "start slacking off."

Cheryl:
Not "slacking off"!

Archer:
Hey! Kidnappers! Super not in the mood for this right now!

Cyril:
Why are you even here?

Ray:
Hello... [holding up number to bid on sex with Lana]

Cyril:
But you're gay!

Ray:
Girl, please, nobody's that gay.

Lana:
[Sighs] Get on the desk.

Pam:
Really?!

Lana:
Yep, before I change my mind. But you CAN'T SAY A WORD.

Pam:
Don't worry, I won't tell anyone!

Lana:
Oh, no, not that...[Takes off her belt] I'm going to pretend you're Alex Karras