Original subtitles

- thar she blows, you moby dicks!

Ah, what is it now?

You know, we're only trying to steal back

a priceless artifact that, by the way,

belongs in a... holy shit.

He woke up. - What?

Archer's awake?

- Oh, my god.

Oh, my god is right.

If you thought that rocked, wait till you hear this.

- woodhouse.

Woodhouse.

Woodhouse!

Oh.

Never mind, you're dead,

which is just so selfish.

God, we get it, phone.

You ring.

What now?

- Sterling, I expect to see you at work today.

- I was thinking maybe I'd just do what I did yesterday.

You know, stare into the void.

The void stares into me.

Mostly void stuff.

No more stalling!

I didn't raise a shrinking violet

that wilts at the slightest...

- three-year coma, mother.

Sure, coach, I'll rub some dirt on my nerve damage.

- Speaking of, a new valet is coming at 9:00

to see if he can do anything

about that bacteria breeding facility you call a home.

- I don't know.

- Sterling, dear, I'm only doing this

because you are totally incapable

of taking care of yourself and always have been.

- That's very sweet, mother.

I promise I'll give him a fair shake.

- good morning, sir. I'm your new...

it's 9:02!

Oh, woodhouse.

What I wouldn't give to force-feed you

aquarium gravel one last time.

The turquoise, you hated that.

All right, all right,

let's not make a big deal out of... This.

Thank you for so swiftly honoring my request.

Oh, a wave,

an entirely appropriate response to my heroism.

- Welcome back, sir.

- Oh, that's it?

I was expecting some kind of batshit crazy add-on.

- I'm sure I don't know what you mean.

Here's your briefing book, new staff handbook,

and your drink.

- Thank you.

Um, just out of curiosity,

when did you get your shit together?

- Oh, I don't know.

I guess it was probably around coma-o'clock.

- wait, what?

- That's just an inside joke we had about your coma.

I guess you had to be there and not in a coma.

Well, you made it...

Two hours late, but you're here.

- I'm supposed to be here at a time?

- We've got a mission tonight, and I want you on it.

- A mission? So we're really spies again?

- Mm-hmm.

- A quasi-independent, freelance

international spy organization.

- Don't worry about it. - I kind of feel like I should.

- Well, then still don't.

So now that we're all here...

- Whoa, wait. What about lana?

- She's doing... Advance scouting.

- Man, I've hardly seen her at all.

It would almost seem like she's ducking me.

- oh, stop it with the portentous mumbles.

We had a whole talk about that.

The point is, our cover story is that

we're providing security at a museum gala,

but our true mission is a bit more interesting.

Cyril?

- Well, our true purpose is to...

- wait, why is cyril talking?

Wh... what is it, best agent in the world gets to talk day

and opposite day simultaneously?

Uh-huh.

- We don't do that anymore, archer.

Jeezy petes. That keeps happening.

The dangers of increased muscle mass, I guess.

- Hey, steroids aren't the answer

no matter how inadequate you feel and in fact are.

- The only thing I'm injecting myself with is hard work,

using the syringe of... Nope, lost it.

Anyhoo...

Our target is peregrine, the world's foremost art thief.

He's going to try to steal this statue of weeping orpheus.

We nabbed it from one of his warehouses

to use as bait.

Our objective:

Apprehend peregrine and pass him to interpol.

- Man, you guys are lost without me.

He's gonna know that's a ruse.

- Which is exactly why he'll come.

Our psych profile shows a pathological need

to demonstrate superiority.

- Sound familiar?

- He'll show up to try to outsmart us.

- Nice briefing, cyril. Super concise.

- What, you guys are friends now?

Well, I'm spent.

And what a better way to celebrate my return

than me escorting all of you to chez trop cher

where I will generously allow you to buy me brunch.

- Oh, no thank you. - Brunch...

- Can you guys take it somewhere else?

New, better cheryl is trying to get work done.

- You used to be fun.

- Yeah, well, your legs used to work.

- Look, we've been targeting peregrine for months.

This is kind of a huge deal for us.

- So huge deal like your buddy just got out of a coma,

or huge deal like art theft,

which is basically a victimless crime?

- Um... - We've, uh...

We've got stuff to do.

- Come on, man, we'll hang out soon.

I swear, but until then,

maybe chill your balls out just a skosh.

- Oh, my balls are frosty, okay?

But if you're all too busy and/or stupid

to go with me to brunch, I'll be in my office

when you're ready to apologize.

- Not sure if this takes the sting out of it,

but you don't actually have an office anymore.

- Oh, so I'm supposed to hang out where?

In the break room, alone, like a pervert,

wallowing in a miasma of microwaved fish curry

and its subsequent farts.

- Sometimes you buy too much salmon.

- What, to attract bears? Did you get that?

There's a double meaning.

- Yeah, subtle.

Anyway, since my time here on earth is finite,

krieger wants to see you.

- Great, the only person with time to hang out

is wanted for ethical violations in nine countries.

It's up to ten now.

Well, speaking of crimes against humanity,

how do you fit anything in the fridge

with all of cyril's proteins anyway?

It's like the last helicopter out of saigon in there,

but shakes.

So...

- The recently de-comafied brain

is a complete mystery to science,

like dark matter or why squirrels get so enraged

when they see me naked.

- Uh-huh, nodding, no need to explore.

- So what I want you to do

is remember all of your coma dreams.

Put them in your mind.

Now... Speak.

- There's so much.

First, I was a private detective, right, in a...

yep, that's enough.

- Really? 'cause there's kind of a lot.

- Yep, just needed enough to calibrate your brain waves.

Though if you're looking to plumb your psyche

with morally questionable "flatliners" -style

experimentation, I'm down to clown.

- Tempting, but no, especially because for you,

the clown in question is probably john wayne gacy.

- exactly.

- Yeah, I already have one of those in my hand currently.

- Not like this.

I used your scan to calibrate

your new brain wave sensitive tactical mobility device,

or for short, bwstmd.

- Krieger, you should probably start

working backwards on those.

Let's just call it the tactil-cane.

Hey, that feels pretty good.

- It anticipates your moves and enhances them,

working with your nervous system

to rebalance you, plus infrared telescope,

garrote, and a sleeping gas canister.

- This!

This is the moment it all turns around.

My inevitable rise to my rightful place

at the top of the... ugh... it...

- oh, yeah, don't hold it like that.

All our intelligence suggests

that peregrine will strike tonight.

Cyril?

- Thank you, malory.

Now this guy's silk and stealth on the entrance,

bullets and balaclavas on the exit.

He will shoot his way out if he has to.

We have one advantage:

He doesn't know that we know what he looks like.

- Whoa. Sploosh, right?

- Oh... - Yeah.

We don't do that anymore.

- You... you don't what, sploosh?

You have to sploosh.

You all sploosh. Everybody splooshes!

- I do not sploosh.

- Well, thank you, detective dick droop.

Anything else you wanna ruin for us?

- Oh, a great many things.

- This is agent bruchstein, interpol liaison,

just in from belgium.

- So she's here to wander around

and screw things up as much as possible.

- I supplied you with the photo.

- Well, let's just coast on that

for the rest of your life.

- Spread out. Eyes open.

Krieger is on comms.

- I thought we just needed audio.

- Oh, yeah.

- aww, you didn't bring the fun stuff.

- Archer, I need you to stay here,

close to the statue.

You'll have the element of surprise.

- Shut up. There's lana.

- I suppose you'll tell me he's not usually like that.

- He's always like that. - That's pretty much him.

- lana.

Hi. I... wow.

Sorry, it's always a shock that you look like that.

- Archer, it's, uh... it's good to have you back on mission.

- Yes. I mean, no, not yet.

Uh, look, I know you've been ducking me.

So I need to tell you something now before you bail again.

- Oh, coming in hot.

Well, whatever this is, it's probably not a good time.

- No, no, no, this can't wait.

Lana, I lived several lifetimes

while I was in that coma,

in a bunch of different genres, I guess.

Everything was changing.

I couldn't get a handle on who I was

or what it all meant, but the one constant was you.

Needing you is apparently the deepest part of me.

I guess I don't know what I'm proposing, except...

Uh, if you could excuse us, buddy,

I'm in the middle of giving a heartfelt,

life-changing speech.

- To my beautiful wife.

Yes, I get it.

Hello, sterling. I'm robert.

- Bu... bu wha... bu wha... fa... da...

Bald!

- yeah, we can talk

more about how and why I'm bald later.

I know this is all a shock, but the feelings here are real,

and I honor them.

And we understand and love you.

- You do not get to love me!

That is a hostile act!

What is the how of that?

Though maybe the portentous mumbles

should have tipped me off that something was coming.

- Well, that is what portentous means.

- So how long into my coma was it

before you bravely pushed aside your grief

and married that human catheter ad?

- Eight months. - Eight months?

When did you meet him?

- Um, at your hospital.

He was doing a fundraiser for kids with cancer.

- Oldest trick in the book.

- What book? - All the books, lana!

- Okay, one, we weren't together,

and two, there doesn't need to be a two!

This is gonna take time, archer.

Okay? There's a lot you missed.

- I'm sorry. I... I get it.

I just... I just need to know one thing.

What does his skin feel like, papery or more mushy?

- is it scaly like a sleestak?

- quite a crowd here.

- Yeah, they really packed them in,

like protein shakes in a fridge.

- What was that? - I was agreeing.

- You know, if you have something to say, just...

- you're a fridge hog!

- See, doesn't that feel better than being passive-aggressive?

- I... I guess.

I... - Extremely passive-aggressive.

- So what do you think?

- It kind of looks like that thing

where you've been away for a long time,

and when you come back, no one really cares,

and people have moved on, and you're all alone,

and nobody understands you.

Or maybe it's just a lady with big cans.

- Oh, I don't know. Her cans aren't that big.

- and now this.

- You know, sterling, I think it's important

to look at these cans in context of their era.

- So what are you, some crazy rich millionaire?

- Millionaire?

Oh, god, no, no, no, no.

I hit billionaire at 25.

This is actually my wing of the museum,

but that's not what this is about.

- I find that hard to believe.

- I know you don't want to hear this right now,

but the fact that you think me and lana are impossible

is what makes you and lana impossible.

- Wow. - Yeah, hits pretty hard.

- No, I... I've just never met a bald fortune cookie before.

- Okay, I'll give you some time.

- Who's bald!

Whoa, oh.

Krieger, what's going on with the tactil-cane?

Jesus, your brain waves

are all over the place.

Is there a problem? - Yes.

I was just condescended to by an elderly geek,

and lana was apparently using my coma bed

as a singles bar.

Well, technically, it was the hallway

just outside your coma bed.

- How is that better?

- It's ten feet more respectful?

- Uh, new, better cheryl here.

Look, can we all just admit that seeing someone in a coma

is intensely erotic?

No.

- Man, it was so easy to remember the good stuff

when he didn't interrupt it with his mouth and his face

and his general being.

- Oh, well, I'm sorry for practicing a little self-care.

- Like the time I caught you practicing self-care

in your office.

- You know I wage a constant battle

against my impulses.

- Well, thank you, onan the barbarian.

Yeah, you got bible burned.

- What in god's name is going on?

I see sloppy positioning, uncovered zones,

and that dress isn't doing your hips any favors, lana.

- Well, at least my hips didn't produce a human disruption

on the scale of an ice age.

Whoa, wait a second.

I've had my shakes in the fridge for months.

Why did you suddenly get annoyed?

- Dukes! Archer just made

some little comment about it.

It's like he doesn't even have to try to cause problems.

- Look, we had a great team dynamic going

before he came back.

So let's just roll it back

to coma-o'clock and... oh, my god.

- Wait.

Was everyone really happier

without me?

- No. - Is anybody really happy?

- No, it's not that we were happier without you.

It's just that we became happier

when you weren't arou... Oh, crap.

That's the same thing.

- I would like four of your most

stupidly expensive whiskeys.

Sorry, sir,

one drink per patron,

and we only have beer and wine.

- Beer and wine? What am I, 12?

- I'll deal with you when you become more sensible.

- That'll be never, pal. - Next.

Oh, woodhouse, what happened to us?

- Oh, shit. You're talking to rocks now?

- No, no, silly.

Just... I was just looking for a real drink.

You shining liquor angel.

- see? Told you we'd catch up later.

I missed the shit out of you.

- Yeah, well, that makes exactly one of you.

What is with everybody?

- It's been three years, numb nuts.

We've had a whole thing going without you.

Can't you just make an effort to fit yourself in?

- Boom, phrasing,

which we probably don't even say anymore.

Look, I... I'll try and fit in,

but what's with lana and methuselah?

I've never seen her happier,

and honestly, you two have a lot in common.

- How do you figure? - Well, now you both have

a lifelong relationship with a "kane."

ah-cha-cha! - Oh, right.

Lana ka... yeah. Okay, that's pretty solid.

- Well, look who stopped being such a bitch.

- all right, everyone.

I'm sorry I've been a distraction,

and while it pains me to say it,

I will cede ground to you guys... for now...

And I will accept a...

I will accept a...

Support role.

- You know, archer, like orpheus,

you too have visited the land of the dead.

- Jesus, cyril, if I needed someone to murder subtext,

I'd dig up ayn rand and stick a pen in her hand.

- Well, this is all quite inspiring,

but it might have been more useful

if the statue weren't already gone!

- Yes, keep staring. It might reappear.

Seal off the exits! Find him!

- And, uh, I support you enthusiastically,

for... for that is who I am.

- Ugh, the incompetence!

- I can assure you, agent bruchstein,

nothing like this has ever happened before.

- Or will again.

Interpol had its doubts, and I spoke up for you!

- Well, if you can get fired over this,

I'm sure we can... -

fired? Oh, no, no, no.

Europe's labor laws are much too strong for that.

- Reprimanded? - Not with my union.

I have to check in with headquarters.

- Huh.

And I thought we beat the communists.

I need a drink.

- Krieger, you've been monitoring my brain waves

and location through the tactil-cane, right?

- Yes, but not in a creepy way.

Everything you do is by definition in a creepy way.

- Hey, uncalled for! Also fair.

- If I look at that photo now, can you check

if there were any places I saw peregrine,

even if I didn't consciously register it?

- Scanning for similar optic patterns.

You saw him 16 times.

Huh.

You never actually saw him anywhere near the statue.

- So that would only make sense

if that's not the right photo.

- And after a double knee replacement,

I finally got back to the squash cour...

We got him!

- uh, honey, bit of bad news here.

That's actually the museum director.

I'm quite well-known.

Nighty-night, peregrine.

- No, stop it!

- huh, really wish I hadn't wasted

that sleeping gas on myself now.

Ow!

Krieger, bruchstein is peregrine,

in pursuit down the south corridor.

And great thinking putting only one gas charge

in the tactil-cane.

- Well, I didn't know you were gonna

shoot yourself in the face with it.

Always assume that!

Ah, crap, evil bartender.

No wonder he sucked.

- give it up, peregrine.

- You were supposed to find the decoy earlier

to create the diversion, but you were too incompetent

to do even that, amateurs!

- And that is our strength, you waffle-faced...

Wait, you're still actually belgian, right?

- Yes! But I was raised in the states.

- You lambic-gargling limburger dick cheese.

- Those are silly stereotypes.

- So are you guys flemish or walloon?

That would help my specificity.

- We gotta get closer. - All right, here's what we do.

- Archer, cyril is tactical lead.

- I concede that a plan that comes out of your mouth

has at least a theoretical possibility

of not getting us killed.

- Thanks, archer. I'm sure it took a lot

to almost not insult me.

- I know.

I mean, look at you. - Great.

Now, ray and I will flank, set up an enfilade.

Lana and pam on a delayed spearpoint.

Archer, you... - Don't say it.

- Provide suppressing fire.

- And there it is.

- In three, two, one.

- Suppressing fire!

Wait, wait, wait.

Why do they have gas masks?

Go get 'em, woodhouse.

God, that smells worse than the break room salmon!

- cyril, grab them.

Or are you screwing with office fridge space

for nothing?

- jeezy petes!

- gravel got him.

- Archer!

- I wanted whiskey.

- I literally did not have any, you asshole!

- Then why am I still angry?

God damn it.

- no!

And they say art is use... wah!

- You did good, kid.

Lana?

- Wait.

Go to her. - Uh-huh, I was.

- No, go to her because of my nobility.

Ugh.

Gravity, you utter bitch.

- Welcome back.

Took you long enough.

Subtitles Diego Moraes(oakislandtk) www.opensubtitles.org

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