Archer, Season 8

Lana:
What sort of daily expenses does a semi-private investigator incur?

Archer:
Bullets?

Lana:
Daily.

Archer:
Or, I don't know, maybe a surf and turf dinner at the Polo Lounge?

Lana:
Uh-huh?

Archer:
And then maybe a room upstairs at the Beverly Hills hotel?

Lana:
Uh-huh.

Archer:
And then, maybe...

Lana:
I'm gonna leave you here. Between hope and despair.

Pam:
Everything is my business.

Archer:
Oh, including white slavery?

Pam:
What?

Archer:
Those girls are tied up, asshole.

Pam:
No they're not, they're just...aww dog dicks.

Archer:
Yeah, so...

Pam:
Uhhh, wouldn't it be "yellow slavery?"

Archer:
[gasps in disbelief] Uh, I don't know, racist!

Pam:
White slavery is just as racist!

Archer:
WHAT??

Pam:
Nooo, you know, if you differentiate between cotton-picking slavery-

Archer:
Jesus Christ!

Pam:
-and then white slavery then that's-

Archer:
SEXUAL slavery, then.

Pam:
Okayyyy!

Archer:
Goddammit.

Pam:
My point is I think we're both anti-slavery.

Poovey:
I don't know what the hell you're going to do.

Archer:
Well, that makes two of us!

Archer:
Heiresses to fortunes like your family's don't fake their own deaths. They murder their parents and blame it on some poor Hispanic or Negro.

Cheryl:
Yes, I thought about that, but I don't know any Hispanics or Negroes.

Archer:
No, they make up the Hispanic or Negro.

Cheryl:
I honestly wouldn't know where to begin.

Cheryl:
Oh my God, you have a crush on her!

Archer:
What?! No I don't, I...

Cheryl:
Yes you do! That was the cutest thing! And I think SHE has a crush on YOU.

Archer:
No, she...wait, really?

Cheryl:
Absolutely!

Archer:
Why - why - why do you think that? Did she --

Cheryl:
Just admit that you like her!

Archer:
Well, yeah, of course I --

Cheryl:
[yells to room] Hey! Yeah! Me and him, we just f*****d!!

Archer:
I realize that a segregated service is just crazy, especially given what we were fighting for over there, but -

Cliff:
Oh now you got a "but."

Archer:
...if you think about it, the most racist thing would be, if, whenever there was a war, we only sent negroes.

Floyd:
WOW.

Verl:
Words fail me.

Archer:
Look, I know you cops have to check your weapons up front, and there's five of us and only one of you, so...

Pam:
So who wants their ass beat first? And before you decide, keep in mind that I'm gradually goin' to get more tired, but also gradually more berserker.

Archer:
I really wish we hadn't have done that.

Poovey:
I can never unsee him naked.

Archer:
I mean, the size of that thing.

Poovey:
Hollow that big bastard out and you can use it as an umbrella stand.

Cecil:
I'm afraid I'm going to ask for proof that you actually have Charlotte.

Archer:
What kind of -- wait. Oh no.

Cecil:
Yes, I'm afraid I require...a finger.

Archer:
Uh, I could bring you her! Just drive by the house, she could wave to you.

Cecil:
Ummmm, nope.

Archer:
I...that's...then how 'bout a photo of her holding today's newspaper?

Cecil:
Ummmm, well now that could work!

Archer:
Yeah!

Cecil:
Just make sure that she's holding the newspaper with nine fingers.

Archer:
Ugh, goddammit.

Cyril/Figgis:
As the Lord our God Himself is my witness, upon the conclusion of my current business, I shall return to this place, and visit upon you an apocalypse of such terror and destruction that you will rue, RUE, the very fact of your miserable birth!!

Coroner:
[munches on hot dog] I'll be here!

Charlotte/Cheryl:
You're not planning to blindfold me and hide me in a bomb shelter with limited oxygen and send my family cryptic notes about how to find me in a race against time for my life?

Mother/Malory:
Who are you, collective pseudonym Carolyn Keene?

Charlotte/Cheryl:
What?

Mother/Malory:
Who would go through all that trouble?

Charlotte/Cheryl:
Johann Schmidt, a.k.a The Red Skull in my Nazi kidnap/rape fantasy.

Mother/Malory:
Ewwww.

Trexler:
Get me out of here alive, and the ransom money and we'll call it even, =

Archer:
Okay, you know what? [swerves] Laugh it up, laughers. Since you like jokes so goddamn much... [swerves and throws Dutch off his motorcycle] Hahahaha. Oh hey, did you hear the one about - [drives car over Dutch]

Everyone:
Oh my God.

Lana:
Archer, wait!

Archer:
Or the one about - [drives car over Dutch again]

Lana:
Archer!

Archer:
Or here's one! Knock knock? [drives car over Dutch again]

Archer:
Typical! Typical typical typical typical!

Lana:
What could possibly have been typical about that?!

Archer:
ME! I always do shit like this.

Poovey:
Like what?

Archer:
All I wanted to do was find out who killed my partner Woodhouse, and the next thing I know I've disappeared up my own asshole, and I'm manumitting sex slaves and grossly abusing corpses and trying to source a finger for some weird psychosexual kidnapping, and then, to top off all the bullshit, getting chased by GODDAMN ROBOTS!! I mean, [beep] halberts, Jesus Christ!!

Krieger:
You're better than this! You don't have to be a killer. You can use your powers for the good of all mankind!

Dutch/Barry:
Yeah, I could, but I was a murderer before you turned me into a freak so I don't know why you thought this was gonna have a happy ending.

Lana:
Hurry up!

Poovey:
Jesus! You people would stand in a bread line and ask for toast.

Charlotte:
Wait, there's toast?

Mother:
WHY would there be toast!?!

Charlotte:
Why WOULDN'T there be?