Archer, Season 2

Archer:
I know, right? Totally McQueen!!

Archer:
You seriously have to get out of here before the cops come... Or wait, what do you have in Switzerland? Some kind of pikemen?

Anka:
I'm from Germany, where the age of consent is 14.

Archer:
What is it, the Alabama of Europe?

Anka:
In many ways, yes.

Archer:
F*** you, Switzerland.

Lana:
Was that before or after you got caught fondling a teenager?

Archer:
Well, obviously before; after was all gendarmes and dick stitches.

Archer:
I saved her life! Go ask that dick I set on fire.

Anka:
Are you insane?!

Archer:
No. Just incredibly pissed off!

Anka:
That's no fun, then you don't get to squirt that hot white cream all over your face!

Archer:
Why aren't you with Gillette?!

Cheryl:
Trust me, you can't control a person's heart.

Krieger:
You can with a little thing I call a deep cycle marine battery. [pause] Or LSD.

Cheryl:
Is that what you've been giving me?

Krieger:
...Yes.

Cheryl:
I just thought they were breath strips!

Barry:
...So don't try to do anything stupid.

Archer:
I don't have to try [pause] Shit, whatever. Move. [walks away]

Cyril:
These are from a doctor!

Cheryl:
So? Krieger's a doctor.

Cyril:
Not the medical kind!

Krieger:
Not even the other kind, technically.

[Krieger demonstrates the mind control chip in a rabbit]

Archer:
Freaky!

Krieger:
You wanna know what's freaky? Guess what I already named that bunny.

Archer:
Rabbert Klein?

Krieger:
Wow. That's... actually better.

Archer:
It's all yours.

Archer:
[talking about a mind control chip placed in a rabbit] Can you put it in a person's brain?

Krieger:
[pause] It'd suffocate...

Archer:
Not the rabbit, idiot; the chip.

Krieger:
Oh, yes. Absolutely.

Archer:
Without killing the person?

Krieger:
Oh. [pause] Maybe?

[Archer is explaining the plan using dolls on a floorplan of ISIS]

Archer:
Why do we have so many damn dolls?

Pam:
For sexual harassment complaints. So people can non-verbally indicate where stuff happened on their body.

Archer That takes, like, one doll!

Pam:
Not if there's ever a gang rape.

[Cheryl smiles and nods]

Archer:
Cyril, better pill up; you're assisting Krieger with the surgery.

Cyril:
Why me?

Archer:
You're good at math.

Cyril:
How's that supposed to help?

Archer:
Can't hurt.

Krieger:
But don't touch it. Lysergic acid can be absorbed right through the skin. Even the tip of your finger can… [Krieger accidentally touches the strip] oops.

Archer:
Oh, for f***'s sake, Krieger! You're about to perform brain surgery!

Krieger:
Yeah… So sooner's going to be better than later.

Archer:
Okay, it's over, and... you're sure you don't wanna marry that woman?

Len:
Oh, God, no. You know what I want?

Archer:
Tell me.

Len:
Some of that lettuce?

Archer:
...Um... okay...

Len:
Actually can I have all of it? And the bunny attached to it? He is attached, right? Can I have the bunny and the lettuce?

Archer:
Um, can we give Lenny the rabbit?

Len:
And the lettuce!

Archer:
...Sure thing. Go to town.

Len:
Yeah, 'cause, you know... they're brothers.

Archer:
Um. Is he always gonna be like this now because I feel bad.

Trexler:
Barry, you ass, for the love of all that's green take me and Rabbert to the lettuce store.

Archer:
Hey, you idiots wanna hear my plan or not? [Silence] Alright... Suggestions.

Cyril:
About what?

Archer:
What are we talking about... Stopping my mother from selling ISIS to ODIN!

Cyril:
You said you had a plan.

Archer:
My plan is to crowdsource a plan!

Lana:
So as far as Archer is concerned, I feel like I dodged the world's most dysfunctional bullet.

Cheryl:
Yeah, but Cyril was... oh wait, did he have some sort of character flaw?

[Brief shots of Lana walking in on Cyril having sex with Scatterbrain Jane, Framboise, and Cheryl (whom he is choking); Cyril is looking up and nervously saying "Hello" in each one]

Lana:
Couple things...

[She lunges at Cheryl. They fight throughout the following]

Cheryl:
Bring it!

Ray:
Yeah, we are code blue here.

Pam:
Hey. Yeah, blue! Like for baby boys.

Ray:
No, I meant, like, for her face...

Cheryl:
[To Lana] Choke me!

Pam:
No, like for let's have a baby shower for Trinette and the wee baby Seamus.

Ray:
Oh my god yes! But your place is disgusting, so where could we have it?

Pam:
Well, Archer's got that bangin' pad.

Lana:
[letting up on Cheryl] He'll hate that. I wanna come.

Cheryl:
Ohhhhh, I think I just did.

Archer:
I feel terrible.

Malory:
That's because those ODIN ghouls drained a fifth of your blood!

Archer:
Oh, hey, speaking of fifth...

Malory:
A drink's the last thing you need!

[Archer is throwing all Woodhouse's shoes off the balcony]

Archer:
Because I told you to buy Lemon Curd! Now what am I going to spread on my toast, Your tears?!

Trinette:
Ew, what is this? Homemade salad dressing?

Dr. Krieger:
Breast milk.

Trinette:
Ew! I actually... have my own.

Dr. Krieger:
So... you won't need this.

[Grabs jar and walks away]

Cheryl:
Here, it's some plastic dry cleaner bags and a book about SIDS.

Trinette:
What, what kind of shit gift is that?!

Pam:
Yeah, I made mine.

Dr. Krieger:
[shouting from distance] Me too!

Archer:
[with Woodhouse] That's disgusting. If I wanted to look at your bare feet, Woodhouse, I'd sneak in and do it while you were asleep.

Dr. Krieger:
Me too!

. . .

Trinette:
[holding Seamus] Somebody's got a full diaper.

Dr. Krieger:
[shouting from distance] Me too!

Krieger:
Have you ever thought about having children?

Cheryl:
Sometimes I think I'd like to adopt a little baby. [Pause] So I could abandon it at a mall.

Krieger:
That answers my follow up question.

[Cyril is unconscious in the bathroom]

Pam:
Cyril. Hey, you awake? [Undoing her belt and dropping her skirt] 'Cause this is about to get weird.

Lana:
Pam! Get off Cyril!

Pam:
[Coming out of the bathroom] I was trying to get him off, Buttinski!

Cajun guy:
You should'a called first... this is the only airboat for fi'ty miles, and it reserved.

Archer:
What do you mean, "Reserved"?

Cajun guy:
Is that not self-explanatory?

Lana:
[Offering a big stack of cash] Perhaps we can work something out.

Cajun guy:
Sure, if you take that money, buy you a time machine, go back in time, and be the first person to reserve that airboat.

Archer:
Thank you, certified air boat mechanic!

Archer:
WOOOHOOOOOOO!!! THIS MUST BE WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE SEX WITH ME!

Lana:
HOW CAN AN AIR BOAT BE SELFISH?!

Archer:
Burt Reynolds is my spirit guide!

Lana:
Did you say "man crush"?

Archer:
No, I'm pretty sure it was "shut up!"

Cheryl:
[Struggling to operate the photocopier in the new "Green" ISIS] Stupid, efficient, Canadian lightbulbs. I can barely even see what I'm doing!

Pam:
What are you doing?

Cheryl:
[Holding up a "Found Cat" poster] I need six more of these.

Pam:
Why do you need seven?

Cheryl:
One for each cat. Duh.

Cyril:
For god's sake, Pam! Have you no sense of decency? That bathroom's like a… a war crime.

Pam:
Don't blame me, it's those new low-flow toilets! With the old ones, you could flush a dachshund puppy. [Pause] I mean, not that you would.

Josh Gray:
Lana, I really like your new hairdo.

Lana:
Well, if you like the collar, you're gonna love the cuffs...

Archer:
That's just great. She gets dinner and Dixieland and laid. And I get mosquitoes and no beer and... not laid. How could this get any... [alligator surfaces and growls] LET ME FINISH... worse. You ruined it. You ruined the moment.

Archer:
You realise you're in huge trouble?

Woodhouse:
Yes, sir.

Archer:
And now I have to spend my first Friday off in forever devising some bizzare punishment for you?

Woodhouse:
Yes, sir.

Archer:
So don't be surprised if you end up eating a whole bunch of... spiderwebs.

Cyril:
You know tontines are illegal.

Pam:
So are all kinds of shit, but look at these odds. Half the people that work here are field agents...

Cyril:
...who get killed in the line of duty all the time! And the control room...

Pam:
...is just one great big asbestos lawsuit waitin' to happen.

Cyril:
Yeah, here are some more claims forms.

Pam:
And how long you think this one's gonna be around?

[Indicating Cheryl/Carol, who's drinking rubber cement]

Cyril:
Yeah, count me in.

Archer:
He might have a tiny hangover...

Archer:
You want me to take a baby to a murder?

Malory:
Wherever, just out of here. I have no more love left to give today.

Archer:
Yeah and what is it? Two-Thirty?

Reggie:
You scoundrel. Is that brandy?

Woodhouse:
Oh no sir, just water.

Reggie:
Water? Oh, never touched the stuff. Fish f*** in it.

Reggie:
Good God, man, are you hourly?

Lana:
SO GO ALREADY! Bag with which one douches.

Archer:
Render the salad unto Caesar!

Pam:
Frickin' head's poundin', I'm sweatin' booze and my mouth's killin' me!

Cheryl:
You're the one who stuffed four pool balls in it.

Pam:
Personal best!

Lana:
Your mother must be SO proud.

Lana:
[To Archer] What's up with your mother?

Archer:
What comes after infuriated?

Cyril:
So how about I take a look at it? I'm sure I could kill that pesky ol' worm.

Lana:
How? You gonna disappoint it to death?

Cheryl:
And now we're on the brink of World War Two.

Pam:
Three.

Cheryl:
It's not a competition, Pam!

Archer:
It's like it's made out of Wolverine's bones.

Archer:
Krieger, whose virtual girlfriend is so real that the state of New York is allowing him to legally marry her!

Malory:
So how's this going?

Dr. Krieger:
Not great.

Cheryl:
Who am I, Elisha Otis?

Archer:
Get me drunk enough and I might have sex with you.

Pam:
Really?

Archer:
No! Its a catch-22. The amount of alcohol it would take would literally kill me!

Pam:
Dick.

Archer:
But I do want to see how many pool balls you can fit in your mouth.

Pam:
My record is three.

Archer:
Who am I, Alan Turing?

Archer:
[Spotting Spelvin's bikini-clad Asian ninja bodyguards] I'm suddenly much less angry.

[Archer is disarmed and wounded by Spelvin's bikini-clad Asian ninja bodyguards]

Archer:
Damn it, Cyril! You said they were sexy!

Cyril:
Ninjas are sexy!

Archer:
Am I getting some signals?

Archer:
Come back to me, I can do better.

[Pam has stolen Rona's journal]

Ray:
Give me that! Little miss invasion of the privacy snatchers!

Pam:
Oh, come on! Haven't you ever snooped on somebody you thought was dreamy?

Ray Gillette:
No! Well, except Randy Muckler who, turns out, was just leading me on to get out of the draft. So, I made a phone call to the draft board and now who's laughing, Mr. Hooks for Hands? A booby trap blew his arms off.

Pam:
So then it's settled. We're a go on Operation... what should we called it?

Cheryl:
Dick Sledge.

Ray:
You wanna...

Pam:
No, but it's like sour milk. You just gotta take a whiff. What's the story, Neckbones?

Cheryl:
Sophomore year at my stupid college, I had a huge crush on the quarterback, this super-hot guy named Dick Sledge...

Pam:
Sploosh!

Ray:
Jinx.

Cheryl:
...but it was like I was invisible. He wouldn't even sign my cast when I broke my own arm. But I thought if I knew what he liked, then I'd have an in, so one Saturday when he had a game, I broke into his dorm room to see what music he was into, or turtles, or roll around in his clothes or whatever, but...

Pam:
You were so busy sniffing his jock, you didn't hear him come in...

Cheryl:
Because he totally snuck up on me. And I guess I blacked out because I don't remember stabbing him at all.

Pam:
Why'd you have a knife?!

Cheryl:
I didn't! It was a stupid pair of scissors, and it was his fault for grabbing me with his throwing hand! That's how his tendon got severed!

Pam:
Holy shitsnacks.

Cheryl:
Yeah, they said he could've gone pro.

Malory:
Why not?

Cyril:
Because it's just not believable that this guy, who also can not be named Cassius, would risk his career for a woman twice his age.

Malory:
So make her forty.

Cyril:
Yeah, and who's gonna play her?

Malory:
Me! That's the whole point!

Cyril:
You do realize there's a finite supply of Vaseline in the universe.

Ray:
[loading up in the armory] No, shut up, we go in, drop the journal, and get out-no snooping.

Pam:
[wearing infrared goggles] Aw, come on! I just wanna see if me and her have stuff in common, like...

Cheryl:
Tons of cock porn lying around?

Pam:
I don't have cock porn just layin' around! But sometimes, you know, you forget it's in the VCR.

Ray:
How do you forget?

Pam:
You rub one out, flip back to regular TV, Superstars is on, and all of a sudden, here's Joe Frazier's dumb ass drowning, you forget it's in there! Until Mom and Dad come to visit to tell you she's got Lou Gehrig's disease.

Ray:
Why would you think it's okay to share that?

Archer:
Come, Kriegerbots, avenge your fallen comrade! What voice is that? Is that from Bullwinkle?

Rona:
[with Lana's sniper scope] Oh my God, I can see my penthouse!

Lana:
Well unless there's a sniper in it...

Rona:
Well somebody's in it. Who the f***'s in my f***ing penthouse?!

[In the penthouse are Ray and Pam with their hands up, and Cheryl, whose hands are behind her back]

Ray:
We are! We're complying!

Cop:
You! Get your fricking hands up!

Cheryl:
You're not my supervisor!

Pam:
Shut up, we're gonna go to prison.

Cheryl:
No we're not. Say the right stuff, and they just send you to a mental hospital for ten months.

Ray:
I just this second realized why you do macrame instead of knitting.

Cheryl:
Yeah, no sharp objects on the ward. They were super strict about that.

Rona:
These like Kung-Fu monks make this fifty foot tape, like a cloth measuring tape, but it's kelp.

Lana:
Ah...

Rona:
And you swallow over, like, three days and you start to, y'know, pass it. Then you just slowly, slowly pull it out of you over three more days...

Lana:
Wait, what?!

Rona:
It pulls all the toxins out of your body. And you just feel so clean.

Archer:
[Eavesdropping] Oh yeah? While you're tangled in a half-mile of shit covered tape? ... Frickin' actresses.

Rona:
Lana, hush! If you sit quietly, the toxin should wear off in, like, four hours. But if you struggle, your heart could...

Archer:
[Bursting in with his gun drawn] Freeze!

Russian Soldier:
[Patting the voice-changing gadget] Is my new favourite device of ever.

Cheryl:
Do anything fun this weekend? [Malory ignores her] 'Cause I sure did. Friday night was cornhole league and

Malory:
[Interrupting] If I cared what you did on a weekend I'd put a shotgun in my mouth and pull the trigger with my toes. [Malory leaves]

Cheryl:
On Saturday I watched a building burn down.

Malory:
Pam, those quarterly reports better be on my desk when I walk in there!

Pam:
Ummm... Are you walking in there right now?

[Malory has revealed she may have breast cancer]

Krieger:
My entire laboratory is at your disposal.

Malory:
[Sarcastically] Thanks. I'll let you know if I need a hybrid pig-boy.

Krieger:
A What?! I don't have one of those! [Cut to a shot of Krieger killing 'Pigley'] ... Anymore.

[Archer is standing over what appears to be a partly-dismantled nuclear warhead. It's emitting a green glow]

Archer:
Wait, seriously don't open it?

Ray:
[via Com link] Yes!

Archer:
Oh. I thought you were being sarcastic.

Archer:
[Holding a radioactive vial] Looking for this? Or maybe the lead container I probably should've kept it in?

Archer:
Yup, Stage Two breast cancer. Yeah, I mean it's not as bad as stage three or four. But, obviously not as good as no cancer.

Archer:
It's a pink ribbon, I have breast cancer.

Brett:
[Laughing]' Seriously, breast cancer?

Archer:
Yes.

Brett:
Sure it's not lady vagina cancer?

Archer:
[Laughing weakly] Excuse me.

[He leaps on Brett and starts punching him.]

Archer:
[Between punches] I'm trying... to stay positive... both mentally... and spiritually... Brett!

Cyril:
Well he certainly doesn't have cancer in his fists.

Ray:
Nah, he's beatin' his ass.

Archer:
[To Woodhouse] Macrobiotic food. Find out what that is and start cooking it.

Mallory:
[seriously drunk without eating all day] If I don't get something to eat, I'm literally going to die.

Cyril:
I spent last night in the tombs, getting worked over by the cops!

Ray:
Fun! ... Oh, you mean literally.

Cheryl:
[In the waiting room] Oh my god! how much Cancer was in him? This is so boring and forever-taking.

Archer:
Wow, what a pussy. I could barely even keep up, he was spilling the beans so fast.

Lana:
Well, you threatened to shove a knife up his dick hole. Which, again, ick.

Archer:
Well excuse me, Lana. It's a rampage.

Archer:
Don't you worry, Ruth... I'm gonna make them pay for it.

Malory:
What are you-? Sterling, No! You're not well. What are you going to do?

Archer:
Cry havoc and let slip the hogs of war!

Lana:
Dogs of war...

Archer:
Whatever farm animal of war, Lana! Shut up!

[Inside the Irish mob's warehouse, Archer has tied up three mobsters and written "Irish" on the wall above them]

Mobster 1:
You don't know who you're messin' with, boyo. Do ya have any idea who our boss is?

Archer:
[Placing shells in a sawed-off shotgun] Nope, but a hundred people surveyed, number one answer's on the board...

[Archer cocks the shotgun and puts it up to the mobster's knee]

Archer:
Name the douchebag who's in charge!

Mobster 1:
Vincent... Van Go-f***-yourself.

Archer:
Vincent Van Go-f***-myself. Survey says! [Blows his kneecap off]

Mobster 1:
AAAAAARRRGGHHHHHH!

Mobster 3:
Oh, Christ!

Lana:
JESUS! Archer!

Archer:
What, Lana!? I said it was a rampage!

Lana:
Still, though!

Mobster 1:
Uurgh, you son of a hoor!

Archer:
Save it for the fast-money round, Paddy! [Moves on to second mobster] Hundred people surveyed, number one answer's still on the board, name the douchebag who's in charge!

[The second mobster doesn't speak]

Archer:
[Imitating buzzer] Eh-Eh! Need an answer!

[The second mobster spits in Archer's face]

Archer:
Hmm, cock-flavored spit. Well, you never know what's gonna be on the board. Lemme see cock-flavored spit! [Blows the second mobster's kneecap off] That's two strikes!

[Camera pans out to reveal three Latino janitors tied up with "Jañitoros" written on the wall above them]

Archer:
One more and the innocent Honduran janitors get a chance to steal the bank! [To Hondurans] I'm just gonna assume you guys don't actually know what goes on here. I hope that doesn't sound racist. [Moves on to the third mobster] Okay, kid...

Lana:
He is a kid, Archer!

Archer:
LANA! You're in the isolation booth! [To young mobster] Looking for the douchebag who's in charge!

Mobster 1:
Mikey Hannity... if you say one word I'll cut your yellow heart right out!

Archer:
[Makes buzzer noise again] Eh-Eh! [Shoots first mobster, killing him]

Mikey:
Oh, Christ!

Archer:
Mikey, you gotta listen to me, buddy...I have breast cancer.

Mobster 2:
[Laughing] Breast cancer!?

[Archer closes his eyes in frustration and shoots the second mobster]

Archer:
What have I been doing?

Lana:
Chain-smoking joints the size of tampons!

Archer:
Ew!

Lana:
Figure of speech.

Archer:
Still, though.

Lana:
Are you not rampaging? I thought you were rampaging.

Cyril:
Krieger's father was a Nazi scientist!

Malory:
And JFK's father was a bootlegger.

Cyril:
That's like comparing apples to... Nazi oranges!

Malory:
Oranges, exactly! Do you like powdered orange breakfast drink?

Cyril:
No, not really.

Malory:
How about microwave ovens, Neil Armstrong, hook-and-loop fasteners?

Cyril:
OK, you lost me...

Malory:
None of those things would have been possible without the Nazi scientists we brought back after World War II.

Cyril:
The Nazis invented Neil Armstrong?

Malory:
Rockets! Which put him on the moon. After the war ended, we were snatching up kraut scientists like hotcakes. You don't believe me? walk into NASA sometime and yell "Heil Hitler!" WOOP! They all jump straight up!

Pam:
And then he was like-

Cheryl:
"You're a moped."

Pam:
How'd you know? And what's it mean, anyway?

Cheryl:
Mopeds are fun but you don't want your buddies to see you riding one.

Pam:
Oh... I thought he meant I was fuel efficient. Only had ten beers.

Cheryl:
Forties?

Pam:
No... yes. Hence the shandy!

Cheryl:
I spent, like, every summer there listening to my creepy great-grandmother bitch about Abraham Lincoln. Apparently slavery was pretty awesome.

Malory:
Prove it.

Archer:
What's to prove? It's free labor.

Malory:
Why would anyone want to kidnap you?

Cheryl:
Because my last name isn't Gimple, like it says on my W-4. It's Tunt.

Archer:
Tum again?

Lana:
[looking out the window of Cheryl's mansion] Is... that...

Cheryl:
[rolling her eyes] Yesss...

Lana:
The Roosevelt Mansion?!

Cheryl:
Total shitbox, they're weird.

Lana:
What the-?

Archer:
What the hell is that?

Cheryl:
Ugh, my stupid ocelot.

Archer:
[Leaves, excited] I've never seen an ocelot!

Malory:
Uh, Cheryl, dear, I don't quite know how to put this, but-

Archer:
[OC] Holy shit! You guys, look at its little spots!

Malory:
How much are you-

Archer:
Look at its tufted ears!

Malory:
Worth?

[A kidnapper punches Pam in the face]

Pam:
Who taught you how to punch? [Spits] Your husband?

[Archer is talking to the kidnappers]

Archer:
How long do I need to keep them on?

Ray:
Two minutes.

Lana:
What?!

Archer:
What happened to thirty seconds?!

Ray:
Uh, your mother's budget priorities?!

Kidnapper:
You idiots! This isn't Cheryl Tunt!

Pam:
That's what I've been tryin' to tell ya. Between this little gal's love-taps- [Kidnapper hits Pam in the face] Seriously, maybe see if your daddy'll give you a roll of nickels.

Pam:
Screw them! Especially Cheryl; I hope you kidnap the shit out of her.

Cheryl:
It's crazy stupid boring in here!

Archer:
Well, now you know how Babou feels.

Cheryl:
...Crepuscular?

Lana:
Archer and Ray had to leave through the garage.

Malory:
Well, they're not dumb enough to leave the door wide open... are they?

[Cut to garage]

Archer:
Yes!

Ray:
Why?!

Archer:
Because you're just wearing it to piss me off!

Ray:
Is it working?

Archer:
Yes, so take it off! We look totally gay!

Ray:
I am gay.

Archer:
Well, I'm not!

Ray:
Then why are you wearing that turtleneck?

Kidnapper:
Thanks for getting us inside, Pam. [beat] Someone shoot her.

Pam:
Oh, OK, then good luck with all the biometric scanners. Unless you wanna cut off my fingers and scoop out my retinas. [Pause] Oh, don't be dicks!

[Pam's using a retina scanner]

Kidnapper:
Would you hurry up?!

Pam:
Hey, I'm not the one smashed my eyes into eggplants! Nutsack!

Cheryl:
I didn't kidnap myself, he did! [points at Cyril]

Cyril:
Who, me?! No! No, I've been up here the whole time, having some phone sex! Just jackin' it...on the telephone.

Archer:
Um, does internet porn know you're cheating on it?

[Archer is behind Cheryl, who is screaming]

Archer:
Shut up! That vest is bullet-proof!

Cheryl:
Oh. [gets shot in the arm] OW!

Archer:
But it is, y'know, a vest.

Pam:
[To Malory] And you! The worst of the bunch!

Malory:
Me? Why me?

Pam:
Five thousand measly dollars?!

Malory:
Y'know, maybe I low-balled him at first... But I had some wiggle room.

Pam:
Yeah? Well let's see how much you wiggle when I'm whupping five thousand buck's worth of your ass.

Malory:
I don't care if it's a Wehrmacht reunion party, this isn't my first Grand Prix you know.

Ray:
Voila!

Malory:
No! I am not sharing a room with you!

Ray:
No, I'm sharing it with you, and it's the last one in the hotel. No view, but it has two queens.

Malory:
Where's the other one? Greasing up in the bathroom?

Ray:
Hey! You know what?

Lana:
Ray, this is fine, two of us will just have to double up...

Malory:
Exactly, two of you.

Ray:
Exsqueeze me?

Malory:
Oh don't worry. He may be a vain, selfish, lying, and quite possibly alcoholic man-whore, but gambling is one vice Sterling doesn't have.

Archer:
Uh, I guess it's cause he's doing all that other awesome stuff, thanks mother.

Malory:
Why isn't there a metal briefcase full of bearer-bonds handcuffed to your drinking arm?!

Archer:
Uh, [Raises his glass] pretty sure you just answered your own question.

Lana:
Why would she pay four millions dollars for unverified information?

Ray:
Well, either she's getting Alzheimer's…

Archer:
Hey.

Ray:
Or it's another sex-tape.

Archer:
HEY! [pause] Actually, that would not surprise me.

[repeatedly]

Various:
Benoit...

Archer:
Balls.

Archer:
I have a plan to get the money back. [See's Ray carrying a bag of toiletries] That doesn't include you taking my hotel toiletries!

Ray:
You're not using them.

Archer:
Yes, I am.

Ray:
Go look at your pores then tell me you're using them. Then tell me your little genius plan.

Archer:
Rob the casino.

Ray:
Thanks for the lotion.

Archer:
Lana, what are you mad at me for? Mother took your 401(k). All I did was foolishly gamble it all away.

Ray:
...He does have a point.

Benoit:
Impossible, madam: all my bellhops have been taken prisoner by the Wehrmacht.

Archer:
There's a zoo here?

Pam:
...And some blow jobs... I mean, printers.

Archer:
He's headed for the coast road!

Ray:
Thanks Captain Obvious!

Lana:
What the hell are you doing?!

Archer:
Shooting at his tires so he loses control and drives off the cliff!

Lana:
With the bearer bonds!

Archer:
Yes, Lana, with the... Dammit!

Benoit:
I can't see, you fool; get off!

Archer:
I am getting off, I love this.

Pilot:
[sigh] What an asshole...

Russian:
What an asshole...

Malory:
Pam!

Pam:
[From outside office] I'm not eavesdropping...

Malory:
Get your bloated carcass in here!

Pam:
[Entering] Whattup?

Malory:
You filthy sneak! You've been going through my desk?

Pam:
OK, A: No-one cares about your big knobbly vibrating eggplant. B: Sometimes I work late and C: There's this new thing all the kids are doing called Shutting the Damn Door!

Malory:
And then I put whipped cream over everything and you know where this goes...

Lana:
Undercover?

Malory:
Of course undercover!

Lana:
As what? Russia's only black woman?

Malory:
You're still together?

Barry:
Ex-fiance, thats what I meant to say.

Malory:
Well, then it wasn't meant to be.

Barry:
[nervous chuckle] I don't even know... how to respond to that.

Lana:
Ohh but he's such a douche bag...

Malory:
I know dear, but he's also my son.

Lana:
Not Archer. Well, also very much Archer. But I'm talking about Barry.

Barry:
Who is in-fact sitting right here. Do you wanna... do it on the desk or... in the hallway? Where you wanna knock this out?

Barry:
Lesson one-

Archer:
Don't "lesson one" me, Barry.

Barry:
According to ODIN's guy in the KGB. Which, as a real agency, we have.

Malory:
We've got guys in the KGB too, smarty.

Barry:
Yeah. So I hear.

Malory:
How did... Pam!

Pam:
[From outside office] I'm still not eavesdropping!

Archer:
Piece of-! How are you a super power!?

Archer:
Oh that is bullshit! Who would break into this shit hole!?

Russian:
Come on, we don't have all night.

Archer:
Yeah right, like you've got plans.

Russian:
Goodbye, Mr. Archer.

Archer:
Hey. F*** you, you douche bag.

Archer:
[sounding like Cyril] Hello...

Malory:
What in the name of prepaid venereal disease do you think you're doing?

Archer:
I... uh...

Katya:
Darling, I know she is old, but you allow such talk from your secretary?

Malory:
And don't you want to freshen up after your long ride?

Archer:
Phrasing, Mother!

Dr. Krieger:
Almost as cool as my van.

Pam:
This deuce aint gonna drop itself!

Archer:
You realise I can never unhear that? … Why are you crying?

Pam:
Because I got ripped in a bar last night and I was trying to beat my record for cramming pool balls in my mouth when some a-hole slaps me on the back and…

Archer:
No! You swallowed a pool ball?

Pam:
I wish just one. And I've still got two to go, so if you don't mind. [Closes door]

Archer:
Pam, wait! I had something… what was it? … Uh, something about stripes and solids.

Russian:
If I tell you all at once, your head might explode... Along with comb over.

Archer:
It's ok, it was just cancer sex.

Archer:
So you! [Smack] Can you hack into the KGB servers?

Bilbo:
pfft... Does one ring rule them all?

Ray:
For God's sake woman, are you hearing yourself? He's your son, not a...

Lana:
Ray, she got him to quit drinking...

Ray:
[Lifts guns] So what's the plan?

Archer:
Wait, does Canada even have a spy agency?

Katya:
Yes, but...

Archer:
Wha- why? Haha, it's Canada.

Major Jackov:
So, Comrade Bionic Barry, can you solve my Kasnova problem?

Barry:
Yeah, probably. If I knew and/or cared what that was. But since I don't and/or do not, I'm going to kill and/or murder Sterling Archer.

Malory:
I swear, if any one saw me in this awful van.

Lana:
How could they with this illegal ass window tint. Dude, this van is like, rolling probable cause.

Malory:
So all ashore from the S.S. Date Rape.

Ray:
Toot toot.

Archer:
Is anybody hit? Not really the explosive climax I thought it was gonna be.

Ray:
Is nobody gonna touch that? Seriously?

Ray:
Yeah, it is the first thing they'd do. It's like, counter-intelligence 101.

Ray:
How 'bout a disgraced former minister. Long story, kinda boring, but I am still licensed by the state to perform marriages, the irony of which is not lost on me.

Archer:
[To Barry] How are you not dead?

Barry:
The Russians turned me into the unholy abomination of metal fused with flesh that now stands before you.

Archer:
[While being choked by Barry] Wow, Barry, you're like super-strong!

Barry:
Yeah, did I mention I'm a cyborg?

Barry:
What part of "I'm a cyborg" are you people still not getting?

Archer:
The core concept, I guess.

Barry:
YEAH! One for three off the roof, Bitch! WOO!

Archer:
[looking into Malory's desk, seeing it's rigged] Oh, come on! What could be so secret, she wired it up with twelve pounds of C-4? Ugh, I don't...think I even want to know. [calls Ray on his cell]

Ray:
[annoyed] What?

Archer:
Heh, nice. Here, take a look at this. [takes a picture of the C-4 wires] All right, which of these wires—

Ray:
Blue and yellow.

Archer:
The blue—you want to look at it for more than half a second?

Ray:
I wired the damn thing, ass!

Archer:
Well, I didn't know that, ass! [cuts the wires, then opens the top drawer, pulling a memory stick out] Okay...

Ray:
Oh, my God.

Archer:
What?

Ray:
I lied. I didn't wire it.

Archer:
What?!

Ray:
Ba-dum-bump-ding!

Archer:
You think that's funny?! [punches the drawer shut; it promptly starts vibrating] Wha—

Ray:
Not compared to that.

Archer:
What is that?

Ray:
Oh, yeah.

Archer:
No.

Ray:
Yeaaaah.

Archer:
No!

Ray:
Not a bumblebee, is it?

Woodhouse:
Then they gave me the VC and my papers... medical discharge.

Stinky:
Because of the scalps.

Woodhouse:
Oh for-

Archer:
The what?!

Stinky:
German scalps!

Archer:
What?!

Stinky:
Must've been fifty of 'em!

Archer:
That's a lot of scalps.

Stinky:
Could've made a blanket.

Archer:
So Barry, looks like the whole "find out who my father is" thing isn't happening and so now I just want to get outta here so I'm thinking that we probably should split up.

Barry:
[nervous] No, no, no! No please! A-Archer, your boots are slipping, man!

Archer:
Probably because there's 200 pounds of asshole hanging off them.

Barry:
183, Fatboy!

Archer:
Whatever, tell that to my silk socks.

Barry:
Why are you wearing silk socks?

Archer:
[beat] is that a joke?

Barry:
Archer, let-let me climb up you! No! Please! Archer, Don't!

Archer:
Barry. Barry, buddy, this is happening.

Barry:
Archer, no!

Archer:
so, try to aim for that dumpster.

Barry:
[falls from Archer's lower half, taking his shoes and socks with him] Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhaaa!!!

Archer:
Bye, Barry. Dead center. Good work, Barry. [angry] Oh, for... Why don't you just go to my house and take all my clothes!?