Archer, Season 3

Malory:
FOR THREE MONTHS! Sterling has been missing for three months and you idiots have not been able to find him!

Ray:
Well, name-calling is not going to get us- [Malory lets out a long sentence full of profanity, all covered by a long *Bleep*]...anywhere.

Pam:
What a hunk

Cheryl:
Total sploosh.

Lana:
Yeah, gotta give him a sploosh.

Ray:
And whatever my equivalent of sploosh is. Which I guess is just sploosh. Only with semen.

Archer:
So excuse me for needing some time to grieve.

Rip:
By tending bar and banging newly weds?

Archer:
Apparently that's my grieving process.

Archer:
A ruse? Hi, it's the 1930s. Can we have our words and clothes and shitty airplane back?

Rip:
Let's go, kid.

Archer:
Call you back, 1930s. And, hey, watch out for that Adolf Hitler. He's a bad egg.

Malory:
But if the emergency beacon is going off -- oh my God, their plane crashed!

Cheryl:
(gasps) I said that would happen and it did! What if I have psycho-kinetic powers?!

Pam:
I dunno, just try to only use em for good.

Cheryl:
....no.

Pirate Captain:
What a hell, dumb guy?

Rip:
You just killed like ten pirates.

Archer:
Wow, if the five year old me knew that, he'd get a huge boner.

Archer:
Noah, I'm half drunk and slathered in every bodily fluid there is... so yeah... this is about as Pirate Kingy as I'm going to get so brief away... Noah... Good Morning.

Noah:
Can I just run up to my hovel real quick and get the only extant copy of my dissertation?

Archer:
Noah, I've still got four bullets.

Noah:
Oh God! Do you know what 'extant' means?!

Archer:
Do you know what 'License to kill' means?

Noah:
… I'll write another one.

Archer:
The world holds its breath.

Lana:
What's your blood type?

Archer:
How should I know?

Lana:
How could you NOT know?

Archer:
Who am I, Karl Landsteiner?

[Archer's team have just lost a pub quiz, thanks to Pam]

Archer:
Your exact words, Pam: "Dr. Charles Drew or I will eat a bag of dicks"!

Pam:
[Belch] Bring 'em!

Bucky:
You will never make it to the helicopter. My men will cut you down like dogs!

Archer:
Thanks, Human Shield.

Lana:
(while shooting at pirates) AAAHHHH!!!!! GET SOME, YOU SONS OF BITCHES! SUCK IT!

Cheryl:
BUUUURT REYNOLDS! IS ON LINE ONNNNNEEEE!!!!...for you, for some reason.

Malory:
And just how long has he been your hero?

Archer:
Since always!

[Scene cuts to a flashback where a younger Archer is dressed as the Bandit, running around in a cardboard box with markings like the Trans Am in the movie Smokey and the Bandit]

Archer:
[Singing] Eastbound and dowwwwwn!

[Scene cuts back to Archer and Mallory]

Malory:
I thought that was Richard Petty.

Archer:
Which doesn't even merit a response.

[Pam and Cheryl are looking at pictures of Burt Reynolds online]

Pam:
I swear to god, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now! … Not that you would.

Malory:
[To Cheryl] I swear, if you throw that computer on the floor one more time, you'll wake up in a mental ward with total amnesia under someone else's name!

Pam:
That's actually kinda scary.

Cheryl:
Nah. Wouldn't be the first time.

[Burt and Archer are going down an elevator that is taking a long time to get down]

Burt Reynolds:
...You're kidding me.

Archer:
I know, it's like, the world's slowest elevator.

Burt Reynolds:
...Why don't you get a bat-pole?

Archer:
Nine thousand bucks.

Burt Reynolds:
What?

Archer:
Lowest quote I got.

Burt Reynolds:
Well, that's ridiculous.

Archer:
I know. It's just basically putting a pole where the garbage chute is, but all the co-op people were like, "But what are we going to do with all the garbage?"

Burt Reynolds:
Well, you just dump the garbage down the same chute. Then you will have a pile of garbage to land on.

Archer:
Yeah, if you're coming in hot, I know, it's a win-win.

Burt Reynolds:
Plus, you were going to pay for it yourself. No assessment or anything.

Archer:
Exactly.

Burt Reynolds:
...Ridiculous.

Archer:
Preaching to the choir, pal.

Burt Reynolds:
That's not your car?

Archer:
Yeah. What?

Burt Reynolds:
Nothing... I just didn't know they sold those to men.

Archer:
Sure, laugh it up, Burt.

Burt Reynolds:
I am.

[Burt Reynolds does a stunt during a car chase that causes a police car to land ontop of another]

Archer:
HOLY SHIT! Burt Reynolds!

Burt Reynolds:
Hey, pay attention and you might learn something.

Archer:
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of my giant, throbbing erection!

[Burt slams on the brakes, causing Archer to fall forward and hit his nose the dashboard. He comes back up holding his nose]

Burt Reynolds:
How about now?

Archer:
It's gone. I'm all ears.

Cheryl:
That Burt Reynolds is so freaking awesome!

Archer:
Yeah, he... kinda is.

Pam:
After this, I am going to go home, watch Hooper and masturbate until my fingers bleed.

[Cheryl and Archer stare at her]

Cheryl:
Just tape them up!

Malory:
Anyway, effective immediately, I'm promoting Cyril to field agent.

Lana, Ray, and Cyril:
[simultaneously] What?!

Archer:
Hey, that sounds great. Best of luck. [turns to leave]

Malory:
Where do you think you're going?

Archer:
Oh, sorry, I gotta get back to Earth before the Stargate closes.

Malory:
Get back in here!

Archer:
Mother, the chevrons are locking!

Ray:
You're taking me out of the field?

Malory:
Well, unless we need someone to go undercover as a shopping cart...

Malory:
If you were in my tax bracket, you wouldn't be shouting such socialist propaganda.

Archer:
Or wearing such shitty clothes.

Archer:
[On Cyril being a field agent] The last time I tried to train him resulted in a dead hooker in my trunk!

Cyril:
There was no dead hooker.

Archer:
There easily could have been!

Lana:
Heckle, Jeckle, between us and Calzado's fortified compound, there's about ten klicks of jungle that I just assume is one giant booby-trap showroom. So shut your dick-holes, grab your gear, shut up again and start walking. Any questions? [Cyril raises his hand] Cyril?

Cyril:
What's a klick?

Archer:
Well, look on the bright side.

Lana:
Which is?

Archer:
Which is what?

Lana:
You just said look on the bright side.

Archer:
It's a figure of speech.

Lana:
You're looking for Predator, aren't you?

Archer:
...Yes.

Lana:
[sighs] Couple things. A, he's invisible.

Archer:
Not totally, he has a tell-tale shimmer.

Cheryl:
If this doesn't work, we just paid a hundred bucks for liquid fart.

Pam:
Yeah, well, here's shit in your eye.

[The three toast their mugs and drink the "herbal tea"]

Ray:
Oh God, it tastes worse than it smells!

Pam:
Man, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a guy say that... [brightly] I'd have eight nickels!

Cheryl:
[vomiting in a toilet] Oh, my God. I'm gonna die in a toilet stall, just like the gypsy said!

Pam:
Damn that Krieger! Nazi clone bastard!

Calzado:
Tomorrow I will be hunting the most dangerous game in the world.

Archer:
Jai alai?

Lana:
Well, go ahead and say it.

Archer:
What?

Lana:
That since we are going to die tomorrow, we should have sex.

Archer:
Are you kidding? After seeing a tiger get murdered? Lana, I'm not in the mood! ...I mean, if you want to, I can watch while you masturbate, but just so you know, my heart's not going to be into it. It's going to be with that tiger's family... But, you know... go ahead and start.

Lana:
[As she and Archer try to run away] Go, go, go- [Archer grabs her shirt and pulls her back to the ground as he runs away] AH! Are you really that selfish?!

Archer:
Apparently!

Archer:
AGH! Eat a dick, jungle!

Archer:
For a second there I thought you were a crocodile on a three wheeler.

Calzado:
Crocodiles on a three wheeler?

Archer:
Right, how scary would that be?

Calzado:
What the hell, damn guy?!

Archer:
Speaking of excellence, did you hear we met a tiger? But... he was murdered.

Archer:
I've always wanted to fight on top of a moving train.

Bilko:
Well, if I know my boys, you might get your chance, big guy.

Archer:
Thanks, Freddy Foreshadowing.

Cheryl:
My great-grandfather was nuts for skating. That and the Klan.

Malory:
Have the porter bring me a cobb salad.

Lana:
Before or after we capture the dangerous terrorist?

Malory:
Before.

Archer:
I'm looking for a terrorist and an ocelot!

Kenny Bilko:
[on the phone] Alright boys, these ISIS bastards are serious, they just shot a black guy. [waits for a response] I know right?! Welcome to America!

Archer:
Get 'em up, Dudley Douche-bag!

Lana:
Please tell me that's a smoke grenade.

Archer:
Okay... it's not though.

Archer:
[Describing an ocelot's paw-prints] They look just like a house-cat's, but bigger and awesomer.

Archer:
[to Babou the ocelot while handcuffed in a police car] They called you exotic. Which is just people talk for awesome. Which you are, which is why I am so happy I saved your life, buddy. [Babou growls and squeaks to him] Don't worry, probably just thousands of dollars in fines, maybe a little bit of jail time, hopefully just probation. [Babou leans forward and urinates on the car seat next to Archer. Archer speaks in a strained voice] Totally worth it. [Babou growls] No, Babou, that was all sarcasm. [more growls] YES, ALL OF IT, YOU FOX-EARED ASSHOLE!

Archer:
[Climbing to the top of the moving train] This is going to be awe- SHIIIIITT! [The wind causes Archer to lose his gun] AHHHH! The dust! It's like being shot in the eyes by a... glitter gun! [Puts on night vision goggles] There, that ought to do it. Okay, let's try this aga- [Gets blinded by the lights of a passing train] AAARGHSHIIIITTTT! My retinas are seared like tuna steaks!!! ALL I WANT IS TO FIGHT ON TOP OF A TRAIN! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?! [Switches off the night-vision on his goggles] The good news is, now I'm furious.

Archer:
Paging Doctor Boy, Doctor Birthday Boy!

Archer:
Does no one seriously know what today is?

Pam:
Tuesday?

Cheryl:
The rapture?

Krieger:
Press that red button.

Archer:
Is it going to kill everyone?

Krieger:
Press that blue button.

[Archer presses the button, activating a recording]

Model:
Welcome, Mr. Archer...

Archer:
It does know my name!

Model:
...to the Dodge Challenger Special Agent Edition, brought to you by Dodge.

Archer:
Thanks, Dodge!

Model:
[all features shown] Featuring a 440 V8 engine, six-speed manual transmission, and a top speed of 185. Heavy-duty suspension, runflat tires, bulletproof body panels and windows, twin 30-cal machine guns mounted in the front, anti-pursuit countermeasures in the rear.

Archer:
It makes the Mach Five look like a vagina.

Model:
The interior boasts mil-spec GPS, satellite communications, hi-fi stereo, rich Corinthian leather.

Archer:
Corinth is famous for its leather!

Model:
And of course...

[She opens glove compartment revealing a bar with two bottles of liquor, two glasses, and ice]

Lawyer:
[fast, over Archer's hysterical laughter] The in-dash bar is to be stocked with non-alcoholic beverages only. Dodge cannot stress this enough. Never ever ever drink and drive.

Archer:
[staring at his back-lit, in-car minibar] It's like looking into the face of God.

Pam:
Well go on, give your mom a hug.

Malory:
Oh, I don't think that's...

Archer:
[interrupting] Possible.

Malory:
What?

Lana:
Ugh, he's got an erection.

Archer:
It's this Corinthian leather!

Lana:
How much did Dodge kick in?

Malory:
Not as much as you'd think.

Archer:
Black, powerful, sexy. Like if Ron O'Neal was a car.

Malory:
Who taught you to drive?

Cheryl:
This guy I know called my dead father.

Malory:
Oh... I...

Cheryl:
Yeah, I bet you feel like a dick.

Malory:
That was for Pearl Harbor!

Archer:
Well, unless it was the creepy-old-people-bondage-sex police, why would anyone break in here and shoot him?! No answer? Okay, let's ask him. [Pulls off mask]

Lana:
Holy shit!

Malory:
Because he's Savio Mascalzone.

Archer:
Uh...

Lana:
Oh, for- The prime minister of Italy!

Archer:
The what?! Wait, doesn't Italy use a king?

Lana:
No, they don't "use a king!"

Malory:
What year do you think this is?!

Archer:
I... yeah, exactly. Good question.

Archer:
I have a question, Mother. Why does this chair have no seat... and WHAT... IS IN HIS ASS?!

Archer:
Mother! What is in his ass?!

Malory:
Oh, please. Don't act like you've never seen a "marital aid" before.

Archer:
Not in a dead prime minister's ass!

Malory:
And you can stop repeating that! We've established where it is!

[Discussing Operation Gladio]

Malory:
It was a NATO stay-behind set up to counter a possible Soviet invasion of Western Europe.

Lana:
But then it sort of turned into this whole weird crypto-fascist CIA shitshow, starring Allen Dulles and a bunch of former Nazis.

Malory:
Thanks, Holly Hindsight.

Archer:
Lawyer up. Call the cops.

Malory:
What?

Archer:
Oh, and hit the throttle on the bourbon because I'm gonna have to, uh, bust you in the face a couple times.

Malory:
What are you talking about?

Archer:
Self-defense, Mother! It's your only shot! We'll have to uncuff him and "de-dildo" him, obviously... Smash up the furniture like he was chasing you all rapey. Fortunately, he's Italian so that shouldn't be too hard to sell.

Archer:
I bet I'll never be able to have sex again without thinking about this! I bet I won't even be able to eat spaghetti and meatballs. Oh God!

Malory:
What?

Archer:
I could eat. Not necessarily spaghetti and meatballs, but, you know, not necessarily not spaghetti and meatballs. I mean I really like spaghetti and meatballs. Man, if I don't get some spaghetti and meatballs, I may literally die.

Lana:
So, we've got a dead Italian prime minister in the living room which-

Archer:
Sucks, because I bet he knew how to make sauce.

Malory:
So once again you're left with the classic Irish man's dilemma, do I eat the potato now or let it ferment so I can drink it later?

Archer:
What is your problem with the Irish?

Malory:
You mean besides not being on our side in World War II?

Archer:
Yeah, besides that. Wait, seriously? They were Nazis?

Lana:
No!

Archer:
Well, they're not Japanese...

Lana:
Neutral!

Krieger:
I need access to a two-inch drain, hot water, three GFCI outlets-this bathroom should do nicely-and a pot of coffee just like I like my women: black, bitter, preferably fair trade.

Archer:
You got a potato?

Malory:
What is this? Christmas? And is Krieger... hard at work?

Archer:
He literally might be, yes.

Lana:
Ew.

Lana:
Somebody's trying to frame Malory for murdering the Prime Minister of Italy.

Cheryl:
Oooo, I bet it's that wicked king!

Krieger:
I needed help... disseminating him.

Cheryl:
Eww!

Pam:
Not what it means.

Lana:
Still pretty gross though.

Krieger:
And brilliant. When I'm done with him, each one of us will walk out the front door carrying a small parcel.

Ray:
How small?

Krieger:
[holding hands a little over a foot apart] Eh. Then on our way home, we simply drop the parcels into seven different trash cans in three different boroughs.

Lana:
That's... actually pretty smart.

Krieger:
And hopefully, when you look at all the different drop points on a map, it'll look like a big smiley face.

Lana:
That's actually pretty gross.

Cyril:
Every single time we come here, we have to help you get rid of a dead body.

Malory:
Well you've only been here twice.

Ray:
Speaking of, why the hell was the prime minister of Italy here?

Archer & Lana:
Don't ask.

Pam:
And follow-up, did those dastardly dagoes kill him and then dress him up like a big, giant penis, or...

Malory:
Oh, God, that reminds me. KRIEGER!

Krieger:
Yeah, I found it!

Cyril:
Found what?

Archer & Lana:
Don't ask!

Krieger:
Can I keep it?

Cheryl:
Keep what?

Archer & Lana:
Don't ask!

Malory:
Just get it out of here, please!

Krieger:
Yeah, take that tone.

Cyril:
I hate all of you so much.

Ray:
No one cares, Figgis. You're only here to round out the numbers.

Malory:
But Krieger, wait. The bathroom, the body, how did you-

Krieger:
[puts his finger over Malory's mouth] Shh shh shh shh shh shh shh. You don't want to know. But you do probably want to go wash your lips now.

Randy Gillet:
[pointing gun] Don't you move. Don't move a inch.

Ray:
What do you mean, "don't move"?! I came to help, you asshole!

Randy:
Well, you ain't gonna be much help with your legs blown off. There's mines all in the yard.

Archer:
Ray, to be honest, I'm kind of having second thoughts about this whole thing.

Cheryl:
Uh, get in line.

Janelle:
Randy Gillet, where are your manners? Get these folks the map of that damn minefield so they can come inside. [seductively] I've got some nice hot pie for 'em.

Archer:
Okay, now I'm having third thoughts.

Ray:
Oh, please don't.

Archer:
It would be rude not to eat her pie, which I assume is not only hot, but also moist... Although hopefully not flaky.

Ray:
So is it just E.Z. coming or...

Randy:
No, it's the whole sheriff's department. I'd say twenty men, AR-15s, maybe grenades, oh...dogs! Duh.

Archer:
Ray, I'm having fourth thoughts.

Randy:
Well I got a few tricks up my sleeve. Janelle, why don't you take Mr. Archer and show him the defensive perimeter.

Janelle:
I'd be delighted.

Ray:
[as Archer and Janelle walk out] Well, now, wait a second...

Archer:
Fifth thoughts!

Ray:
Archer!

Randy:
Don't worry, she won't bite. But speaking of, it's about suppertime. You still partial to fried chicken?

Cheryl:
[having snapped a rooster's neck] I'll cook it... if someone shaves it or whatever.

Randy:
Do you want to have sex with my wife?

Archer:
No! I... I swear, this was just an extremely unlikely mishap with the barbed wire.

Randy:
Because we would be amenable to that. Well? Why do you look so nonplussed?

Archer:
Because I wasn't sure if you knew what "amenable" actually meant, until you followed it up with "nonplussed."

Archer:
The truth is that your seemingly effeminate brother is, in fact, a highly trained secret agent.

Randy:
[Sarcastically] Yeah, and I'm… something equally hard to believe is true.

Archer:
I feel sick. What's happening? Do I have cancer again?

Ray:
You drank too much!

Archer:
That's a thing?

Ray:
I'm coming out.

Archer:
Ha ha, phrasing.

Question:
Is that the truth?

Response:
...Mostly.

Archer:
For I am a sinner in the hands of an angry God. Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed are you among cocktails. Pray for me now and at the hour of my death, which I hope is soon. Amen.

Major Jackov:
Et tu, Brute?!

Russian Soldier:
Et me, buddy.

Cheryl:
It has to be your place. Mine totally reeks of ocelot piss.

Archer:
If anyone found out, I'd literally die of shame.

Pam:
And how do you think that makes me feel?!

Archer:
I don't care, Pam! [Pause] Having said that, would you please come into this dirty toilet stall and have sex with me?

Pam:
Oh, alright.

Pam:
This time really get in there. All you've been doing is giving one side hell.

Archer:
Who hunts dogs?

Cheryl:
Orientals, duh!

Archer:
Where did you learn all that stuff?

Pam:
You know I grew up on a farm, right?

Archer:
Really hoping that's not relevant.

Archer:
And instead of doing my job, I was here... Half-drunk and having amazing sex.

Pam:
Well, I wouldn't say "amazing." [Archer looks at her] C'mon, you were pushing rope!

Krieger:
I'm not a... serial killer!

Archer:
Wait, why did you emphasize "serial"?

Pam:
It's Bearclaw Monday!

Archer:
[To Cyborg-Katya] That's your original skin, right?

Krieger:
[Under a cough] Hobo.

Archer:
What?

Krieger:
...Yes?

[Archer and Cyborg-Katya are in bed. Cyborg-Katya's eyes are glowing red]

Archer:
Can you close your eyes? It feels like I'm banging tail-lights on a country road.

Lana:
If you want to know why Archer is Archer, you need to go back in time and have a threesome with Oedipus and Sigmund Freud!

[Archer has drunk an entire bottle of scotch]

Cyril:
That was a gift to my grandfather! From Frank! SINATRA!

Archer:
Which makes me feel even more terrible, since I'm going to puke it back up in five- [burps] one minutes...

Barry:
Is anybody gonna ask how and why I knew to show up here?

Archer:
Is...? Okay, I'll bite.

Barry:
By tracking the satellite signal from Katya's internal hard drive, which Doctor Dipshit over there bought from the KGB.

Archer:
Krieger!

Krieger:
Yeah, but...the savings.

Barry:
Like, eighty bucks you saved.

Mallory:
What, were they [Barry and Katya] having sex?

Lana:
I think so.

Mallory:
Called it!

Lana:
I know that sucked...

Archer:
Vacuum Cleaner puns?! Really?!

Archer:
Barry

Cheryl:
Polo

Archer:
Will you shut up!

Cheryl:
(grunt) Polo

Archer:
Uhh! I say all sides by idiots

Krieger:
Uhhh ... SMOKEBOMB! [runs away]

[Archer holding baseball mitt up, as ball slowly floats back to him]

Archer:
F*** you, space.

Archer:
Happy, Cyril?! You just destroyed Alderaan!

Archer:
Are you trying to get my mother into the Million-Mile-High Club?

Drake:
Are the restraints really necessary?

Kellogg:
Archer broke both Wu's arms. While shouting "Woo!"

Archer:
Happy accident.

Kellogg:
What's taking so long?!

Horizon Drone:
Couple things. One, I didn't invent whatever this door's made of, which is apparently some alloy of adamantium and mithril. And two, not really liking your tone!

Barry:
[singing] Flying into space. To shoot the dickbag... In his face!

Drake:
I DARE YOU TO SAY "DWARVEN TECHNOLOGY"

Cyril:
I think I got 'em. Did I get 'em?

Lana:
You did. You got those two guys, who were just minding their own business... Ooh! And also the one remaining person who could fly us back to Earth!

Archer:
A black astronaut, Cyril! That's like killing a unicorn!

Pam:
Holy crapsnack, is this gonn-

Archer:
Don't, don't you say it.

Pam:
Worse, I was going to say worse.

Archer:
What, really?

Pam:
Yes.

Carol:
Jesus Christ, could you PLEASE think of somebody other than yourself for once in your life?!

Lana:
And that's her talking.

After Malory has shot a Yakuza member

Malory:
That was for Pearl Harbor!

Pam:
Holy crapsnack, how is this gonna get—

Archer:
Don't, don't you say it.

Pam:
Any worse, is what I was gonna say.

Archer:
[annoyed and sarcastic] Really?

Pam:
[serious] Yes.

Horizon scientist:
I heard him tell you to do it.

Kellogg:
And I'm telling you to do it.

Horizon scientist:
And I'm telling you that I didn't sign up for Animal Farm in space!

Archer:
[in hiding with Lana and Cyril] Wait, there are animals?

Lana:
No, Animal Farm.

Cyril:
How do you not get that?

Archer:
Cyril, I know what an animal farm is.

Cyril:
Not an animal farm—

Archer:
Maybe we can, I don't know, stampede a flock of goats down the hall.

Lana:
Animal Farm is a book.

Archer:
No, it isn't, Lana! It's an allegorical novella about Stalinism by George Orwell! And spoiler alert: IT SUCKS! [Guns are pointed at them by Kellogg and the scientist] Although, I was talking about an actual animal farm. So... never mind.