Archer, Season 4

Pam:
Speaking of, you see the bulge on that towel boy? Man, if I was you, I'd be in this spa 25/8.

Cheryl:
Yeah, but then I wouldn't get to hang out with everybody at work.

Pam:
You hate everybody at work.

Cheryl:
I know. It's the only thing that gets me out of bed every morning.

Lana:
I want it on record that I think this is a terrible plan.

Malory:
Duly noted and disregarded. And I expect you to be totally convincing.

Lana:
As the damsel in distress? Have you ever met a woman less damsely?

Malory:
...Pam.

Archer:
Sour Mix? In a Margarita? What is this, Auschwitz?

Malory:
I'm off for a seaweed wrap.

Ray:
[Under his breath] I didn't know they made sushi with dried clams.

Malory:
Oh, Ron, thank you for coming so quickly.

Pam:
Phrasing! First! Boom!

Pam:
This is Rodney, he's the new... whatever... Gun Librarian.

Rodney:
Armoury Supervisor!

[Cyril activates a laser alarm]

Lana:
How could you not see that?!

Cyril:
Because, I only have two eyes and they were both busy looking for hunters!

Lana:
[Referring to Cyril's bright orange snow clothes] Why, is it "pumpkin season"?!

Cyril:
[Gasps] Is that a thing?

Archer:
[Seeing Cyril's orange snow clothes on the ground] Okay, so...really don't know what to make of that. Unless...[Looks around] Wait, no, no. Get it out of your head. Predator only hunts in tropical jungles...I assume...and desperately hope.

Archer:
Ray's gonna be a cyborg over my dead body! Or preferably his! [Pause] But somebody's!

Archer:
Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to apologize for that?

Cheryl:
Once would be nice!

Archer:
Hmm... No.

Archer:
Are you going to open the damn door?

Rodney:
Only if you give me that weapon.

Archer:
Do you honestly want to live through the Rise of the Machines?! Which you won't, because no one will?!

Rodney:
Uh-

Archer:
It was rhetorical!

Krieger:
A small power unit goes here on your... spiney thing, which sends electical impulses to your muscles and ligaments and... stuff, which I will fuse to a vanadium alloy endoskeleton, replacing your current, uh, leg bones.

Ray:
I have to say, it kind of worries me that you don't know the names of the actual bones.

Cyril:
Why is your instinctive response to run toward explosions?

Lana:
Ummm... Because... I'm not a giant pussy!

Cyril:
And yet, somehow, incredibly single.

[Cheryl is hysterical. Archer slaps her.]

Rodney:
Whoa whoa whoa! Not cool man! That is not at all cool!

Cheryl:
Rodney, you mind your own dicky beeswax! [To Archer] You got another one in ya?

Archer:
I don't.

Cheryl:
[seductively] Tease.

Archer:
And I'm sorry for that one.

Cheryl:
Don't be.

Archer:
Because, I'm just going to say it, I think it's super creepy you get sexually aroused by physical violence.

Cheryl:
Mmmm... Well, but also emotional violence...

[Archer suddenly crashes through the ceiling, naked, armed with an RPG. He stands and faces Cyril.]

Archer:
[In a Terminator voice] Your clothes. Give them to me!

Cyril:
Ah!

Archer:
[In normal voice] I'm just kidding, obviously! I wouldn't be caught dead in a sweater-vest! Now, if you'll excuse me... [Passes out]

Pam:
Just like Fourth of Jul-Luau!

Carol:
Yeah, if you slid a pig under him.

Archer:
Thank you... What was your name again?

Rodney:
Rodney.

Archer:
Thank you. Asshole.

Ron:
...Which is why Ron Cadillac is opting out. And also why Ron Cadillac is going to swing by Montreal on his way home. Because Ron Cadillac is FREAKING EPIC!

Ron:
Gimme a break ah? That wasn't my fault

Archer:
(Finishes drinking bourbon) *Burp* Yeah, no. I mean obviously this was all due to the butterfly effect.

Ron:
The what?

Archer:
Butterfly effect. You know, a butterfly in Africa lands on a giraffe's nose, the giraffe sneezes, that spooks a gazelle, the gazelle bonks into a rhinoceros, and the rhinoceros blindly stampedes into a phone booth, calls New York somehow and says "Hey, go kill this idiot Ron, for a suitcase", because the rhinoceros speaks English!

(Beat)

Archer:
What's in the suitcase, Ron?

Pam:
My cooch has cobwebs!

Archer:
Damn you tinitus, you're a cruel mistress!

Archer:
Since certain people around here may not see how brilliant my plan is, they're gonna need to be...

Pam:
Convinced?

Archer:
I'm sorry, did you say 'incapacitated'?

Lana:
[Climbing into air vent] Holy shit, there really are nerve gas canisters up here. [Beat] I though that was a joke.

Lana:
I want it officially on record that I am strongly opposed to this mission.

Mallory:
[Laughs] What record?

Archer:
[To Ray] You're shitting me! Bionic legs and you lift with your back?!

Archer:
Cyril, if you call ISIS: I will literally, LITERALLY murder you! I'd rather die than sit through another one of Lana's I Told You So 's

Archer:
[Stranded in the desert] Unless I'm hallucinating, there's a Land Cruiser over there flipping his high-beams at us.

Cyril & Ray:
You're hallucinating.

Archer:
Oh. Well, the good news is we don't have to worry about these alligators... that's not actually good news, is it?

Lana:
Why not?! Why won't you stand up to Malory with me?

Pam:
Um, because we don't give a shit?

Lana:
About the Earth?!

Cheryl:
Please! If you really cared, you'd resign, but there's no way you ever will because you're just counting days until, her face bloated and yellow from liver failure, she calls you to her deathbed and in a croaky whisper explains that Mr. Archer is totally incompetent and that you, the long suffering Lana Kane, are the only one qualified to run ISIS and you weep shameful tears because this terrible place is the only true love you will ever know...

Lana:
[shocked] ...Excuse me... [Leaves]

Pam:
Daaaaaamn!

Cheryl:
What? ...Oh-my-God was I talking?

Archer:
He's a Master Chef! Which, turns out, is not nearly as gay a job as I thought it was. I mean, it's no secret agent, but it's way above architect.

Lance Casteau:
Remember when I said you could've been a great chef?

Archer:
Yes.

Lance:
Every morning I make two cooks like you in the toilet.

Archer:
Mexico's most notorious coyote... Which is Español for "people smuggler."

Lana:
Thanks. That's-

Archer:
And also for... coyote, it turns out.

Lana:
Archer-

Archer:
It's a loanword. Or is it a calque?

Lana:
Why do you always do this?

Archer:
Because I'm always bored.

Cyril:
Is he-? This is totally nerve-wracking. How are you bored?

Lana:
Don't engage him.

Archer:
Because I've been lying in scorpion piss for two hours in the sun-blasted shit-hole which is Texas, waiting for a stupid truck stuffed with smallish brown people who just want a job.

Cyril:
And probably Mexican cartel gunmen!

Lana:
What'd I just say?

Archer:
Big whoop. I'm spooning a Barrett .50-cal. I could kill a building.

Lana:
Just put one through the engine block when the truck has to stop, please. [To Cyril] This is what he does. He knows we're tense, because we're normal human beings. My theory-and I'm serious-is that he's got some rare kind of pervasive developmental disorder, or even undiagnosed atypical autism.

Archer:
Um... Your mic's hot.

Lana:
I know.

Archer:
Wow.

Lana:
[To Cyril] Would you man up, Kimmy Kevlar?!

Cheryl:
Milk comes from Mexicans? Oh my God, what's cereal made from?!

Malory:
Swear to God, you people make me want to pump nerve gas through the vents.

Krieger:
[over loudspeaker] Just say the word.

Malory:
[To Bilbo] Clean the impending massive heart attack out of your ears!

Lana:
What do you think you're doing?

Archer:
My job, Lana.

Lana:
And what part of your job exactly is groping my ass?

Archer:
The part that calls for spy-craft. C'mon, we're posing as newlyweds, so-

Lana:
Yeah, posing!

Archer:
And I'm drunk on nuptial bliss.

Lana:
You're drunk on champagne.

Archer:
Eh, little column A, little column B.

Lana:
...then passing out on the bed, totally naked, for a... what'd you call it?

Archer:
Power black out. And, you're welcome.

Lana:
Yeah, thanks. The memory of your bare ass will bring me comfort and warmth during the coming nuclear winter!

Archer:
Relax, it's North Korea. The nation-state equivalent of the short bus.

Cyril:
God, were you raised in a barn?

Pam:
No. I just slept out there a lot.

Krieger:
[Running a Geiger counter back and forth over a glowing green pig, causing it to consistently go off the scale] Well, Pigley 3, that would certainly explain the glowing... [Runs the Geiger counter over his own crotch, causing it to go off the scale as well] And probably a few other things...

Archer:
Go online and check your bank account.

Lana:
Now? When I'm suction-cupped on a window thirty stories above the ground?

Archer:
Yeah! You should have five bars.

Lana:
Okay so, it's gonna sound like I'm hanging up? But- [hangs up]

Lana:
Did you seriously climb all the way up here just to see what my bonus is?

Archer:
No, I sarcastically climbed all the way up here to see what your bonus is! He said, sarcastically! Phone!

Lana:
Okay. Jesus! Keep your voice... [checking phone] Whoa!

Archer:
Sucks, right? That's not even... remotely fair! What the shit?!

Lana:
Apparently, we're in a crazy parallel universe, where bonuses are based on merit instead of whether or not you crawled out of your [drops phone] mother!

North Korean Terrorist:
[Having Lana and Archer hostage] Oh, we don't shoot you. After mission finish, we take you back to Glorious Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea.

Archer:
Oh. Then do go ahead and shoot us.

Lana:
Archer!

Archer:
What, Lana? It's none of those things! It's not Democratic, it's not a republic and definitely not glorious!

Lana:
Oh my God. Okay... You're abandoning the mission to go home and pout?

Archer:
I'm not going home... I'm going down there to kick some Kim Jong Ass!

Lana:
Wha- no! We're doing surveillance!

Archer:
Yeah, which is apparently French for just sitting around on your ass!

Lana:
Yeah, which is why it's surprising that you're soooo shitty at it.

Cyril:
Suppressing Fiiiireeeee-Extinquisherrrrr!

Archer:
Is that...

Lana:
Cyril?!

Cyril:
Lana!

Lana:
I'm coming, Cyril!

Archer:
Lana, wait! Bet that's the first time you ever said that. Right? Huh? Okay now we can go.

Archer:
SMOKE FIGHT! WOOOO!

Lana:
[cocking a gun] Cyril, hit the deck!

Archer:
Wait, why Cyril-

Lana:
[Shooting North Korean spies] GET SOME, YOU SONS OF BITCHES! GET SOME!

Pam:
Aww man, did I miss it?!

Cheryl:
Oh my god, the toilet!?

Pam:
No, Jesus! ... Although it IS clogged.

Archer:
Don't ruin the moment.

Archer:
You're missing out on all the great things that Tangiers has to offer.

Lana:
Name one.

Archer:
Cheap...

Lana:
[Interrupting] Apart from cheap hash and a repulsively low age of consent.

Archer:
Rugs?

Cheryl:
Ms. Archer, Lana for you, line one.

Malory:
I'm not here.

Cheryl:
[scared] Then how...

Malory:
My God, a perfect score on the IFAAB merely indicates that a person is a candidate for field agent status, it can't determine if they're suited for actual field work. I mean, what if she had to subdue an agent?

Pam:
Cue sad trombone, and... go.

[Snaps fingers, showing video of Cyril, Ray and Krieger being mauled by Pam.]

Malory:
Pam! What the hell did you... waagh! [Brief shot of Cyril thrown to ground and picked up and thrown again] My God!

Krieger:
And it goes on like that for another thirty-eight soul-cleaving minutes

Ray:
Of which, you were there for two.

Krieger:
Hey, I was scared, I ran away. Sue me. And sue me for this! Smoke bomb!

Lana:
[While walking through the desert] Because you let him, you let him push your buttons. That's why you stormed off with no GPS, gun, phone, or lifesaving water. And that's why you died in the desert. [Beat] Holy shit I'm gonna die in the desert. [Gasps] Just like Cheryl's gypsy woman said!

[Flashback to the ISIS break room, as Lana is talking to Cheryl while opening a soda bottle]

Lana:
How. Would I ever. Die in a dessert.

[Back to the present]

Lana:
Well, pretty close.

Pam:
Plus I'm a quick learner, plus you've seen me drive I'm an amazing driver, plus I almost never get sick, plus I already bought three pantsuits, plus...

Malory:
Alright! I'll think about it.

Pam:
Is that a real you'll think about it or a "Pam, if your pig Leon wins a blue ribbon at the county fair, maybe we won't kill him and eat him for Easter dinner and render what's left into soap" you'll think about it?

Malory:
It's...

Pam:
Because I never really got over that.

Malory:
It's a real one.

Pam:
YAAAAYYYY!!!

Malory:
-but thank you for that glimpse into your bleak, farm-y childhood.

Pam:
It was actually pretty awesome. And if I'm being honest, so was Leon.

Archer:
[to Kazak the dog] Okay, buddy, so here's the deal. A., scrooch down! And B., normally in this situation, I'd do a PIT maneuver, but if I do, the truck will flip, and if Lana doesn't die, best case scenario, she's a quadriplegic and I marry her out of guilt, but after a few years of feeding tubes and colostomy bags I start to resent her and the night nurse is, like, Brazilian and twenty. [Kazak growls] Don't judge me! I have needs, man! The point is, and it might be a kind of shitty plan [jams the canteen against the gas pedal] but I'm gonna jump on the truck, so I need you to take the... [Kazak barks] Wheel, exactly. So- [sees Kazak is gone] Kazak? [Sees Kazak has jumped onto the truck and is mauling the kidnappers] Lana, look! He thinks he's vampires!

Malory:
...and then, give me the file I asked for!

Ray:
Yeah, why don't I shove a broom up my ass and sweep the floor while I'm at it?

Malory:
What was that?

Ray:
Nothing!

Malory:
Good. Saves you the embarrassment of an incredibly homophobic remark.

Cheryl:
Awwwww.

[Pam's holding a large mirror above the Pope, who's sleeping]

Archer:
Put that down, Pam, he's not- [Pam drops the mirror right on the Pope] -dead! Nice job, Oliver Cromwell!

Pam:
I killed the Pope!

Archer:
Yeah, that's why I said Oliver-

Pam:
[Jumps on top of the mirror that's still on the Pope, grabbing Archer by his shirt] JESUS CHRIST, I'M GOING TO HELL! I'M GOING TO HELL! I- [Archer slaps her four times]

Archer:
Pam.

Pam:
Yes?

[Beat]

Archer:
Get off the Pope.

Archer:
Lana! NOW!

Lana:
He said, last-wordsingly.

[Archer pulls up in a Bubble Car]

Lana:
Are you shitting me?!

Archer:
What? It was either this or the Vespas. It's not my fault Italy's so gay!

Swiss Guard:
The good news is my men have apprehended Cardinal Correlli, who immediately confessed to the plot.

Pam:
HA-HEY! That is good news!

Lana:
You know how the whole the good news is thing works, right?

Swiss Guard:
The bad news is...

Pam:
Oh, right.

Archer:
But the real good news is that we saved the Pope's life!

Swiss Guard:
For which we are grateful. However, we cannot tell these two apart, so...

Archer:
So I actually have an idea about that.

Lana:
Is it... take them both home, see which one's a better butler, and give the other one back to the Catholic Church?

Archer:
Uhh, never mind.

Malory:
Last night, an Air Force B-52 bomber crashed off the coast of Bermuda!

Archer:
Well it's about frickin' time! [Beat] What, we're not bombing them in advance of an amphibious invasion?

Lana:
Why would we invade Bermuda?

Archer:
Oh... Bermuda, duh. I was thinking Bahamas.

Lana:
Same question.

Archer:
Same answer: Why not? It's how we got the Virgin Islands.

Cyril:
Actually, the United States bought the Virgin Islands from Denmark.

Archer:
Okay, Mr. Peabody...

Malory:
Are you finished?

Archer:
Yes?

Malory:
Good. Because the B-52 was-

Archer:
In the middle of the Bermuda Triangle! Is this about the Bermuda Triangle? Because that's my fourth biggest fear.

Malory:
The B-52 is on the ocean floor here at a depth of 8,000 feet-

Archer:
Or 1,333 fathoms.

Lana:
How do you know that?

Archer:
How do you not?

Malory:
...So we're going to beat the Russians!

Archer:
[Sarcastically claps] Give it up, everyone. Mike Eruzione!

[Tiffy (the pilot) has been arguing with Cheryl about veganism over the intercom]

Cecil:
Hey, Tiffy. Could you, instead of antagonising her, maybe go ahead and take off? [The chopper judders as it takes off] Love You! [To Archer, who's mixing a cocktail] We'll rendezvous with my research vessel in a few hours. So, in the meantime, I guess, continue to make such wildly liberal use of the bar.

Archer:
Done!

Cecil:
Hi, it's Pam right? Enjoying the cruelty-free vegan seafood buffet?

Pam:
It's pretty good once you get over how allergic I am to soy.

Cecil:
What?! Oh my God, don't eat that!

Pam:
HEY! I'm a consenting adult! [Cough] Plus, I assume you've got an epi-pen on this rip-tide-looking bastard?

Cecil:
Yes, in the cockpit. In the First Aid Kit.

Pam:
Then shut up! [continues devouring the "shrimp"]

Cheryl:
[To her brother] You really spent your entire inheritance on... the poors?

Cpt. Murphy:
I'll be waiting for you.

Lana:
Was that... Did he sound like... Do you think this is some kind of a trap?

Archer:
What? No, Idon't think it's a trap! Although I never do. [Beat] And it very often is.

Lana:
We're from ISIS.

Cpt. Murphy:
Jesus Christ, no wonder this all went tits-up.

Ray:
LANA! Would you hurry up?

Lana:
Said the guy apparently too busy counting his bionic legs to help.

Archer:
Why is Barry rocket-shipping away from the frickin' space station?

Krieger:
Because Newton's Third Law of Motion?

Archer:
Hey, thanks, Neil deGrasse Tyson!

Krieger's Virtual Girlfriend:
[aroused] Ooooh! DeGrasse Tyson-san.

Pam:
So, what are you, like, the Mafia?

Swiss Guard:
Hah! We are like your Mafia...

Lana:
Like Seal Team 6 is like the Girl Scouts.

Swiss Guard:
Exactly.

Cheryl:
[whispering from offscreen] Psst.. Pam!

Pam:
Oh, Already?! [to the "shrimp" she's holding] Look, auditory hallucinations aren't gonna make you any less delicious!