Archer s11e02 Episode Script

1
Malory: Item four:
Our contact in the Sudan called.
- He wants to know
- Why the hell you started without me?
Well, which part of
"9:00 a.m. sharp" confused you?
- Most of it, obviously.
- Yeah.
- It was pretty clear to the rest of us.
- Who clearly didn't have
the shitty morning
I've had, Lana.
Without pata negra ham,
it's not really eggs woodhouse,
now, is it?
- Well, sir, culatello ham is actually
- It's a different pig,
from a different country,
raised on a different diet!
The takeaway here is,
you're fired.
[laughs] It's a little thing called
"being on timing"-ness.
Oh, and I thought it was called
- "who cares"-ness.
- Things have changed.
Briefings start at 9:00 a.m.,
and I expect everyone
front and center.
How, when I have to park,
like, a gajillion miles away
because Cyril's vasectomy
on wheels
is in my goddamn parking space?
It's been mine
for quite some time.
And you don't need it
anyway, dear,
- now that you can use the
- A-da-da
Handicap space.
What?
[grunts]
Oh, and speaking of
[car alarm blaring]
- You trashed my car?
- "Trashed" is a strong word, Cyril.
- Listen
- Accurate, but strong.
- You're gonna pay for that.
- Uh, literally, or figuratively?
- Maybe we try both.
- Oh, like as in, over my dead
- [cane hums]
- [emphatically] Not now.
Body, in case
you were wondering
- where I was going with
- Oh, for the love of
- Krieger?
- Krieger: If this is about
a package that just arrived,
super don't open it.
- What?
- Krieger: Nothing.
Thanks to you, Sterling
just zapped himself to death
all over my carpet!
Krieger: Uh, no.
I specifically designed it
so the voltage wouldn't kill him.
Just maybe put him
back in a coma,
so you can study his brain?
[dial tone]
Archer: Are you kidding me?
We have our own jet now?
Well, the agency has become
quite profitable
- ever since your accident.
- Some might even say "because of."
Well, either way,
you can thank me
- by telling me where the drinks are.
- It's a dry plane.
Shut up, Cyril.
That's not a thing.
Uh, we sort of have
an unspoken policy
against the whole "shut up" thing.
Hmm, but no policy
on coma-jacking parking spots?
- Be that as it may
- Strong priorities.
Be that as it may,
we've instituted a strict
no drinking on duty policy
[sips]
- with certain limited exceptions.
- Well, un-limit them,
because I'm trying to prepare
for a mission.
That involves us going
to a secret island
to infiltrate an underground
martial arts tournament
hosted by black market
arms dealer Win Li
and smuggle him back to the U.S.
- In a fit of irony?
- To stand trial,
so it's important
we take him alive.
- You got it?
- Chong Li, karate island,
- hadouken, got it.
- Nope.
Oh, for chrissakes, this was
all covered in the damn briefing.
Which you were late to
and then nearly died during.
- Mm-mm. So "disprofessional."
- Yeah, does this mean
briefings are gonna start
being fun again?
- Absolutely not!
- Krieger: Aww.
Krieger's flying
the damn plane,
and we're supposed
to be not drinking?
- [chuckles] Right?
- Krieger: Wait, we're not?
- Krieger!
- So I guess, here's to backup plans.
No.
NewbetterCheryl doesn't do that.
New, better Cheryl?
What the hell's that?
I don't know!
But she does very good typings
and many important
non-burny things.
Well, not me,
so don't mind if I do.
Hey, I was toasting
and/or taunting you, Pam,
- not offering.
- [belches] Agree to disagree.
[dramatic music]
♪
Archer: Oh, man.
Pretty sure I have the world's first
- karate island boner.
- Could you not?
We try to keep things
professional around here.
Fine, god. How about
"work-related erection"?
More like, maybe try not talking
- about your erection at all.
- I don't know how.
♪
Win Li: Welcome, everyone,
to the twelfth annual
Dragon fire kumite!
[crowd chanting]
Fighters, head to registration,
and everyone, please enjoy
the loggerhead turtle sliders.
They're almost extinct
because they're so tasty!
Mmm, he wasn't kidding.
These things are amazing.
Oh, put that away.
I'm allergic to loggerhead.
Along with cat dander
and motherly affection?
- Got it. Mmm.
- Dear god, stop stuffing
- your face like a refugee.
- It's called carb-loading, mother.
- Mmm.
- For what?
- Karate island?
- Actually,
we'll be entering Cyril
to fight in the tournament.
Officially ending the search for
your long -lost sense of humor.
- It's just, Cyril's a bit more
- I think the term
you're looking for is
fully functioning!
- How do I look?
- You mean besides like you've got
the world's first black belt
in tax law?
[laughs] Right?
Archer: We get it.
You finally exercised.
Stop being such a dick about it.
Ignore him, Cyril.
You'll do fine.
Which is more than I can say for
whatever this is supposed to be.
- It's called undercover.
- As opposed to vaguely racist?
- Pam: [laughs] Vaguely?
- [slap]
- Ow!
- Mission focused, young lady.
- You hear me?
- [scoffs] Well, not out of this damn ear.
[belches]
Oh, wait, that's better.
What?
She stole my flask, mother.
- I'm the victim here.
- Your job is to stick to the plan.
Stick to the plan.
Got it.
- I'll do a manhattan on the rocks.
- Oh, for the love of
I want mission focus.
- Jesus.
- Sync on me in three,
- two, one
- Wait, sync on what?
Mark.
[phone beeps]
- Mark?
- I want comms checks
- Wait, who's mark?
- And everyone in position
in two minutes.
Now move out!
I'm starting to feel like
I maybe missed a meeting.
[cheering]
- [dramatic drum music]
- Lana: Okay. Once we get past the guards,
we trigger the halon system,
filling this place
with a cloud of gas,
and then we whisk Win Li
away in the chaos.
Right. So, uh,
where are we on that refill?
Not really part
of what we're doing.
It's called tradecraft, Lana.
You even care
about blowing your cover?
I think your tradecraft's
a tad rusty.
Oh, so we're making fun
of my coma now.
- [sighs] Archer
- Feels like a dark line to cross, Lana.
Sorry, not what I meant.
- Let's just focus on our jobs.
- Exactly. So yeah,
- lighter on the vermouth this time.
- [bell dings]
Malory: And when you bring him
his drink, slip this into it.
Now careful.
That's highly concentrated
- penzodiazepine.
- [gasps]
Oh, you mean a booster buddy!
Don't worry, newbetterCheryl
totally stopped taking these
twice a day.
Twice?
How are you still even alive?
Thanks to Jesus.
He's the Costa Rican guy
- I used to pay to pump my stomach.
- Just get it done.
Pam: Yeah, good luck with that.
Seriously, what's he
so worked up about?
[taunting in Chinese]
How the hell should I know?
I don't speak
angry-as-shit Mandarin?
- I'm just the trainer.
- Cleverly disguised as a drunk moron.
Who could still whip your bony ass.
Speaking of, how about you
tag me in for a few rounds?
Feeling a little frisky.
This is why we don't drink
on duty, Pam.
We had a detailed mission plan, and
- [bell dings]
- That hopefully included
- your dumb ass turning around.
- Opponent: Hyah!
- [groans]
- Great.
- I know, right?
- No, I mean there are more guards now
who are apparently
easily distracted.
Let's move. Now.
- Archer.
- Uh, hang on.
- Archer!
- What?
I'm easily distracted, too, Lana.
- I'm trying to watch Cyril
- Hi-yah!
- [bell dings]
- Weirdly not getting his ass kicked.
- Well, so much for
- Parking spot schadenfreude.
And more importantly,
for our chance to just walk
right on in there.
- Unless Pam, come in.
- What the
- It's a new microburst ear transmitter.
- I know, dummy.
Why don't I have one in my ear?
Uh, because you're not
in tactical command?
But a cocktail waitress is?
That makes zero sense.
- Ugh. Just Pam, come in.
- Pam: All right, all right.
Hold your damn horses.
Mr. Hogging-the-ring
wants some water.
And she's drunk.
Happy now?
That you have space ears
and I don't?
- You tell me, Lana.
- Space ears?
In my coma, we were in space,
and we put that word
in front of, like, everything.
It was pretty space great.
Ugh. I told Malory
bringing you was a bad idea.
Oh, why is that?
Because it conflicted
- with your new life plan to avoid me?
- No. Wait, what?
I'm not trying to stay
away from you.
Please.
Staying away is all
you've been doing
since the coma, Lana.
- Oh, that's ridiculous.
- It's okay. I get it.
It's obvious you don't trust
yourself around me.
[laughs]
Wait, what?
- Why wouldn't I?
- Oh, well, I'll, uh, give you a hint.
The answer rhymes with
"my throbbing sexuality."
Pam: All right.
Glass joe here is good to go.
- What's up?
- Oh, me?
Just reeling from
blunt force sexual imagery.
Hey, Lana says keep the
fight going until their signal.
You got that?
[dramatic music]
Well, in the hands
of a lesser fighter
Which, compared to me,
you totally are.
Come on, Cyril.
Give mama a turn.
- Pam, you're drunk.
- [laughs]
Since when's that
a damn problem?
- Mission accomplished.
- Good.
- Oh, wait. Non-accomplished.
- What?
- "Disaccomplished"?
- What happened?
I remembered newbetterCheryl
- doesn't drug random people anymore.
- Oh, just shut up.
Clearly, I have to do
everything around here.
[gentle Chinese music]
Cheryl: Ooh. Don't look now,
but I think
- a certain someone is into
- Lana: Necrophilia?
- My husband's older, not dead.
- It's the same thing, Lana.
Unlike the sex,
which we both know
- was way better with me.
- You know, it's hard to call it better
when you hate yourself afterwards.
And yet, you kept coming back
for more,
thereby proving
how irresistible I am.
[bell dings]
Wait, Lana, shut up.
- Check it out. Thank you.
- Hey! What the hell are you doing?
Restoring balance
to the universe, Lana.
What's it look like?
This is Sterling Archer,
tactical commander, not Lana,
who, side note,
is basically begging
- to have sex with me right ow!
- Will you just come on?
[dramatic music]
[yells]
The hell kind of girls' prison
did you learn to fight in?
Come on, tag me in.
What the this isn't
pro wrestling! [yelps]
I must say, your fighter
has been quite impressive.
- He better be.
- That man he's fighting
usually has a killer right hook,
and that's not a euphemism
for anything.
People die all the time.
Oh, wait. There it is.
[cell phone rings]
Oh, sorry. Work.
Yhellow.
[scoffs] Defective, my ass.
Hey, Yuri, try standing
on one of those land mines,
and you'll see
how not defective they are.
Mm, sorry.
Where were we?
♪
[elevator door dings]
So let me get this straight.
In your sick little world,
every moment I'm with you,
I'm basically a nanosecond away
from ripping off my clothes,
jumping your bones,
and ruining my life?
- [chuckles] Your words.
- Not how that phrase works.
Though it's apparently how
being obsessed with me works.
♪
[silenced gunshots]
- Damn it, Archer!
- What?
We don't just go around
shooting people anymore.
- Why not?
- Because
[silenced gunshots]
That's literally 95% of the job.
W-w-we try to use
nonlethal force now.
[toilet flushes]
[whistles]
[gasps]
[silenced gunshot]
It's called a license to kill, Lana,
not a license to gently subdue.
- [laughs]
- Is this funny to you?
- Not you, idiot. [laughs] That.
- Jesus christ, Archer.
Did you forget to call Pam
and tell her
we're past the guards?
- Sure, let's go with that.
- Call her, goddamn it. He's
Really getting killed out there.
- Well, in the meantime
- [cell phone rings]
Yhellow?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, Raoul.
No one ever said that bazooka
could sink a cruise ship.
You want to take out a
cruise ship, I can sell you
something to take out a
cruise ship, you kook! [laughs]
Okay, I'll see you in Kiev.
[hangs up]
- Sorry, where were we?
- I was just about to suggest
- we freshen our refreshments.
- Mm, I like where this is going.
- Wait, as in sex, right?
- If you play your cards right.
Ah, and the delicate
foreplay dance begins.
[moans]
- [gags]
- Hey!
Whatever happened to
"no more personal calls, Cheryl.
"No more four-hour lunches, Carol.
No more shoving
your fingers in" [chokes]
[dramatic music]
Pam, get Lana on comms
and tell [groans]
[crowd chanting]
Jesus Christ. Like beating
a dead horse out there.
Pam [spits tooth]
get Lana on the
talk box thing and tell her
Lana: What do you mean,
you can't call?
Mm, there's no signal
down here.
- Oh, idiot.
- Idiot?
I didn't invent
how cement walls work, Lana.
- What?
- The hell?
[jaunty music]
Okay, yeah, so
Oh, I'm just gonna
I'm just gonna go ahead and
[vomits]
That's it.
Calling my own number.
Yah!
[crowd gasps]
[dramatic music]
Whoo! Big mama's handing
out biscuits, baby!
- [crowd gasping]
- Ah, you dare interfere
with the Dragon fire kumite?
Well, somebody had
to spice up this snooze-fest.
Oh, then by rule,
you must duel to the death
with the legendary
Dragon fire!
- [choking]
- Pam: Conway Stern?
- [choking] Take me!
- Uh Pamela.
- So glad you came.
- Twice.
- Tum-tum feeling better?
- Nice tone, Lana [guns cocking]
but yes, thank you for asking.
[rattling bars]
Okay, I've got an idea.
Maybe try glaring at me
tons more, Lana.
Maybe that'll get us out of here.
Oh, I'm sorry. Was I glaring?
I thought I was just looking
at the idiot who got us caught!
Well, with your
resting bitch face
- [gasps]
- Guard: Hey, asshole!
No talking till Mr. Li gets here
to kill you
with a bazooka,
like you are cruise ship.
- [laughs]
- Fine, but if you scratch that cane,
- it will literally end up inside your
- Asshole.
[laughs] Yeah.
I probably deserve that.
- I bet you miss me, though.
- Not even close, bud.
You know what you could've
gone with right there is,
"Glenn Close, but no cigar."
Well, you're about to have
a dangerous liaison
- with my fist!
- Oh, my, my, my.
Looks like a
reversal of fortune.
Are you starting to feel a
fatal attraction?
- No, it's more like hook!
- [growls]
Lana: Uh
Resting what face?
- I'm not at all sure I follow.
- Bitch.
- Pardon?
- I believe you said "resting bitch face."
Uh, honestly, I feel
like I would remember that.
Ah, good.
I must've misheard you.
I guess that means I don't have
to do this.
- [groans] Goddamn it.
- Hey, I told you
[shuddering]
[dramatic music]
[grunts]
Son of a bitch!
Problem?
[laughs]
[groans]
Well, not if you stand still
- for, like, two freaking seconds.
- [laughs] Yeah, I hear you.
I'm kind of like a
uh I'm like a
- Muhammad all over the damn place?
- Damn it!
[gunfire]
Go!
♪
[screams]
Hey, Lana,
how's the "non-murdering
bad guys" thing going?
Well, like everything else
you touch,
it's kind of turned to shit.
[music slows]
[gunshot]
Oh, my god!
Did you just see that?
Full-on midair head shot!
- That was so pre-coma me.
- Yeah, just like being pinned down,
about to die,
and it's all your fault
feels pretty pre-coma you also.
[laughs] Right?
Although
that's kind of new.
[grunts, groans angrily]
[both grunting, blows landing]
[grunts]
[crowd cheering]
- Guard: Don't move!
- Lana, am I still in a coma?
What are you no.
God damn it, no.
Damn, because this is gonna hurt.
[clicks]
[glass cracking]
Conway: Any last words, big mama?
- Yeah, they rhyme with go fu
- [Archer screams]
[screams]
You have got to be kidding me!
Oh, how you like that,
Daniel Day-loser?
As in "my left foot."
yeah, yeah, that's pretty good.
[gas hissing]
♪
[weakly]
Ah, just like we planned.
[crying] But you haven't
seen the last of Conway Stern!
Ow.
Which is it my real name?
I'll never tell you!
Oh, my god, this hurts so
much more than losing the hand.
[inhales deeply]
- Good news!
- Dear god.
OldwaybetterCheryl is so back.
- From where, a truck stop bacchanalia?
- Uh, sure, let's go with that.
And where the hell
have you been?
Uh, this new place
called almost dying.
- Hardly.
- Win Li: You!
You've ruined my entire operation!
Oh, go stuff a sock in it!
Swear to Christ, I have to
do everything around here.
Now clean this up!
[gentle music]
♪
Hey, where the hell's Cyril?
- Hello?
- Oh, for the love of
you forgot one!
Sorry, Mother. Mission focused.
Your words.
Can't go back.
Christ, Archer, did you leave him
just to get
your parking space back?
No.