All language subtitles for Archer - S00E06 - Heart of Archness (3)

What do you mean Lana hasn't called?

I mean, I've been sitting here for like
five million years and the phone hasn't

rung once. So every time it doesn't, I
just assume it's not her not calling to

say that they... They should have
rescued Sterling and Rip from the

hours ago.

Maybe they did and just didn't call.

No, I gave them explicit orders to...
What the hell are you wearing?

Uh, this thing called my boss made me
sleep at my desk. So pajamas... Men's

pajamas? For God's sake, woman, where is
your pride?

In my work?

That may be the funniest thing you've
ever said.

Thank you. Oh, shut up.

And then try Lana's sat phone.

Wait, what if Lana's been captured, too?

Then I'll have to ransom her and
Sterling and Rip and... Well, no, Miss

Gillette's on her own.

Still, get Cyril in here. I need him to
find a way to pay for all this.

Wait a minute.

That can't be right.

I remember being really mad and really
drunk and deciding to do some online

banking. Oh, my God.

I must have embarrassed myself last
night, huh?

Don't talk like black people. And how
should I know? I'm still ripped.

Oh, so you don't, um, happen to remember
me saying anything about passwords to,

say, Swiss bank accounts?

I don't even remember who peed on your
sofa.

Although if I was a gambling man...
Cyril!

Smells like a kennel in here.

Cash reserves, how much do we have?

I'll, uh, need to run those numbers.

Well, hurry up. We don't have a minute
to lose.

God only knows what kind of torture
Sterling's going through.

Get off the bucket.

I'm not done.

Yes, you are.

But I didn't, you know, I can't with all
the everybody looking at me and then

the judgment.

Noah? Yes. I just traveled 8 ,000 miles
and got ambushed by Malaysian pirates

trying to rescue a person who is now
responsible for my getting crabbed

Oh, come on. These crabs this time were
not my fault. This whole dungeon is,

um... Were you going to say lousy with
them?

I was.

But then I realized that, uh... Where
that phrase comes from, yeah.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, so guess what I'm in.

Um, no mood?

Winner, winner, chicken dinner.

Wait, shouldn't it be some kind of crab
dish?

Because of the crabs?

Like, um, crab cakes?

Ooh, or, uh, Lana.

Lana.

Lana.

Lana! What?

Dungeon us crab.

Ha ha.

Because we're in a dungeon?

I'm kidding. Crab Rancor.

Noah, seriously, I swear to God.

Stop. Rock beats spoon. You should know
that. You're an archaeologist.

Anthropologist. Whatever. I mean, if
you're doing it just to get on my

okay, I get it. But if you're trying to
actually escape... Well, at least he's

trying something.

Yeah, as opposed to the double mint
twins.

And one, two, three, go, Harry!

Missed it by that much. Shut up. It's no
use. The trapdoor goes up a vertical

shaft to the radio room. Exactly. And if
we get to the radio... Which this idiot

shot to pieces.

Holy shit.

What the hell happened to him? He... Who
knows? Maybe he had a brain aneurysm.

No, he... It's the silent killer, Noah.
Not unlike a metal spoon sharpened to a

razor's edge and used to slit an
anthropologist's bird -like throat.

He just kind of keeled over.

probably thanks to your bucket stank.
What? Excuse me, I didn't even go. We're

going. One, two, three, down, Hurd.

Jeez, how about a little warning? I said
down, Hurd. A couple things. One, Ray,

thanks for perpetuating the stereotype
of the gay man as a collegiate

cheerleader. Uh, yeah, for your
information, almost all male

Finely tuned hetero athletes, yeah. Hang
on, I'm getting a call.

Hello? Hi, it's lacrosse. You lose.
Wait, the phone.

Lacrosse? Yeah, it's Algonquin for blood
sport. It's not Algonquin for anything.

Noah? My sat phone. Yeah, see, Noah?

Wait, your what? My sat phone. The
pirates took it. And since I haven't

in, Isis should be calling me any time
now.

Geez, Alana, answer your stupid phone.

Hello? Give me Sterling, not your
mother.

Oh, my God, be more Chinese -y.

Pirates!

Well, put them through.

Oh, my God, Beemore, I hate you. That's
why your phone is blinking.

Oh, hello?

This is Mallory Archer.

This is Mallory Archer.

Okay, then you listen to me.

No, you just listen to me, Buster.

If you touch one hair on my son's head,
I'll have your guts for garters. Ah -ha,

you like we're gutter?

Idiot, you heathen!

Mallory will call. She'll haggle over
the ransom for you, me, and Riley.

What about me?

Yeah, and me. We'll come back for you
later.

No, shut up. We gotta get that phone or
something. I don't know. But I don't

want Mother talking to Bucky. Why not?
She's been coming to your rescue since

you were in short pants.

Oh, for... Sterling, get your things.
We're leaving.

Before this quack's office burns to the
ground.

Terling, get your things. We're leaving.

Before this cruddy school burns to the
ground.

Terling, get your things.

He's gay.

You were in the army? Oh, who remembers?

Well, try.

I can't remember.

There's a reason they call it blackout
drunk. If I don't remember that

I can't un -embezzle that money, and
then I'm screwed because I don't have...

Ten million dollars?

That's outrageous. I won't pay it. I
don't even want the gay back.

So you just better sharpen your pencil.
I don't have...

It's an idiom! Aw, but I love it when
Mallory bails you out of one of your

jams. Oh, really? Yeah, because then I
get to watch her rub it in your face.

my God. Okay, first of all... First of
all... Riley, no!

Don't say it! He's been here
voluntarily!

Partying his ass off is King of the
Pirates!

Hmm. What? Don't listen to him. I bet
that brain aneurysm scrambled his

area, right?

Language center of the brain?

Noah, thank you. No problem.

Actually, not making much progress.

You're kidding.

No.

Three million and not a penny more. And
before you see one thin dime, I want to

talk to Sterling.

Cyril? Hey,

Ms. Archer.

Three million in cash?

That should not be a problem. I know it
shouldn't be.

And it better not be.

Why would it be? It's not. I just need
to move a little money around.

So move it.

Today, please.

Keep looking. Maybe I wrote it down.

Um, Archer sucks.

No. Kill Archer, die.

No. Um.

Trying on my usual passwords.

Hey, way to not give him the power.

Thank you.

Do you hear me? I want proof of life.

Duh. You lying, pathetic little piece
of... Lana, no!

Come on, you're gonna kill him! Yep,
that's the plan! Hey, hey, knock it off!

Look, Lana, don't get me wrong, I like
your spunk. Crazy.

Shut up! But I promised his mother that
I would bring him home safely, and I

just assume that includes his spleen.

I think that ship might have sailed. No,
not a ship. That was an idiot.

A helicopter.

There's an old Huey down by the dock.

And it just so happens Rip Riley here
can fly it. No shit.

Yeah, Rip Riley here can fly anything.
You know, as long as it's got fuel.

Well, Rip, why don't we just look around
for some fuel in this cell?

I doubt they'd keep it in here. In which
we're still locked.

Well, I figure that we kind of work
backwards from the stealing of the

helicopter.

Archer burn site now.

Archer portion.

No!

What, are you going to type random words
in there the rest of your life? All

five minutes of it. At which point, Ms.
Archer will probably walk in here and

dissolve me in a drum of acid, unless
you have a better idea.

Date -dependent memory.

So your plan is for us to get as
blackout, knee -walking, shit -faced

we were last night in the hopes that we
remember the password?

Well, don't hog it all.

Pam!

Ugh, seriously.

I bet that would have killed a lesser
man.

There's a lesser man than you?

Uh, yeah. His name's Houdini. Whom I
wish you were.

Yeah, because then I could just puke up
a key. Because you'd be dead.

Houdini's dead?

You know what?

Yes. Here's what we do. We lure Bucky
down here and take him hostage.

And then?

Then we'll see. We'll keep it loose. Oh,
for... Just how the hell are we

supposed to lure him down here?

What's that? Sorry, I couldn't hear you
over the sound of my plan working. Hey,

telephone. It's your mother.

My... Wait, please tell me you didn't
tell her I was temporarily the pirate

king. No, not yet.

But this is damn good, I... Clearly, are
you all right? No, mother. I'm a

captive, a pirate. Oh, and Riley said he
no longer finds you attractive because

you're too old.

What? What? You little son of a bitch!

Was that a gunshot?

They got all brave this time. Right!

Now, I kill you!

Ow! Right in the same ear!

Ha! Good!

Serves you right!

I never said that!

You're no spring chicken yourself, you
know.

Shit! Lana!

Is Lana hit? Someone talk to me! Mother,
I'm a little busy right now.

Noah! What?

Spoon him!

Meet Spoonoo. Meet Spoonoo's in like...
Uh,

right. Today, please!

I am incredibly sorry.

Rip? Rip, I take it all back. You're as
strong and sexy as the Nightwing. For

shit's sake, Mother.

How short is the list of guys you
haven't screwed?

How dare you?

You can just forget about that ransom.
For once, you're on your own. For once?

Oh, my God. Columbia?

All I wanted was to mourn the murder of
my crazy, hot Russian fiancé by becoming

a pirate king. But I guess that was too
much to ask.

So Mother can keep her stupid ransom
because...

No, I'm... Well, maybe some psychic
scarring, yes, but physically I... Hand

the wounded!

Oh, right, right. Right, of course, of
course. Not him. Start with Lana. I'm

fine. Check on Ray. Yeah, he is not
looking good. Although neither is Riley.

And neither is your situation.

Because you can forget a ransom. Now you
and your friends will die here.

Yeah, speaking of forgetting, couple
things. One, these aren't my friends.

Got that right.

I mean, her, yes, kind of, maybe, but
there's a lot of weird sexual tension.

But these other three, whatever.

Who cares? I mean, Noah's a slave.

Yeah, about that. Noah, not now.

And two.

But I shoot gun many times. And in all
excitement, I lose track myself.

So now you think, did he fire eight
shots or only... Four, idiot.

So get your things, we're leaving. Okay,
can I just run up to my hovel real

quick and grab the only extant copy of
my dissertation?

Noah, still got four bullets.

Oh, God, do you know what extant means?

You know what license to kill means?

I'll write another one.

The world holds its breath.

Ray? Ray, come on, honey, stay with me!

Ray?

Ray?

Ray! Not sure that's helping.

Yeah, well...

I only have two hands.

What I don't have is all day.

There, I finished.

See you, Stan.

How you doing, Riley?

How the hell do you think I'm doing?

Hey, relax, Nick Furious.

Save your strength for flying the
chopper. And again, I'm just incredibly

What's your blood type?

How would I know? How would you not? Who
am I, Karl Landsteiner, discoverer of

blood groups? You don't know your own
blood type, but you know who discovered

them. Yeah, now.

Your exact words, Pam.

Dr. Charles Drew or I will eat a bag of
dicks.

Bring him.

And not to diminish the accomplishments
of Dr. Charles Drew, but... God damn it,

Archer! Ray needs O positive blood or
he's gonna die!

So give him some of yours.

I'm A negative.

Hey, me too. And even if Riley is O
positive... No, I'm A negative too.

Eh? Blow it up. He's already a quart
low.

So... O... Positive?

Yeah. One of these days, I swear to God,
I'm going to burn this place straight

down to the ground.

Oh, my God, yes!

What about this Sunday?

Unless you want people in here, in which
case... Who's driving it? Five -O!

Five -O! Cyril! Never mind moving that
money.

What money? Oh, really?

You sure? Because all I need to do is
just... Re -evaluate your entire life.

yes, I'm sure Sterling can get himself
out of this jam for once.

Oh, and don't be here on Sunday, Pam.

Why just me? What's happening Sunday?

Probably my grisly murder, because we
still haven't found that password.

Did you try, guess?

No, Pam, I didn't, because I'm not an
it... Oh, eat a dick.

Bring it.

Well, how much of my blood does he need?

I don't know. Ten gills? What? U .S. or
Imperial? Just keep squeezing that gag

ball that I don't want to know why you
have. Uh, no, you do not. You will never

make it through the helicopter.

My men will cut you down like dogs.
Thanks, human shield.

Although, where the hell are all your
men? Well, are you serious? They're all

the intramural lacrosse finals. The
what?

Lana, shut up. That's today?

Yeah, it's right now.

Well, in 10 minutes. Who's playing?

Archer. Uh, the Laxmi Singers? They made
it to the final? Uh -huh, versus the

Archers of Loaf Cross. What?

That's my team!

Archer. Lana, I'm team captain.

I built that team from nothing, and now
- Archer!

Ray is dying.

Does that mean so much my dream?

Look. I think it's great that for once
you're getting out of a jam without your

mother's help, but... Not for once,
Lana. Hello, Columbia House. But

earlier when you said you and I were
friends? Of course. I mean, I know we

a lot, but God, now that I think about
it, you're my only friend.

Uh, wow.

Right? Yes, Archer, because if you do
this... Please don't make me choose. I

will never, ever forgive you, and we
will never, ever be friends again.

Oh,

shit,

they are.

Oh, look, they're all bunched. Oh.

Oh.

So now, for the rest of your idiot life,
I've got that on you.

Wow.

My God.

Just screw already.

Seriously. Then kill each other. And
then shut up.

And then kill each other again.

And call me so I can watch you do it.

Sterling, I don't know how you did it,
but, well, except for Rip's eye, you got

everyone home in one piece. No thanks to
you. Well, it's about time you did

something on your own.

Columbia House Record Club. Archer.

The important thing is that we're home
and that we spare Mallory the details of

your time on Pirate Island.

Why? What happened?

Nothing. Well, you know, besides a lot
of pretty horrific torture, which,

Mother, if you had seen, would have
broken your heart.

But why dwell on that? We're home. And
my mourning period for, um... Katya? Is

over. So, hey, it's a happy ending.

Yeah. Yeah, it's just a big old goddamn
fairy tale.

Fairy tale?

Uh, phrasing?

Ray, I'm kidding.

Don't be like that.

Ugh, gross.

Keep it moving, cripple. Shut up. Ray.

Ray!

Ray?

Oh, okay, then I guess just pout.

In Georgia.