Original subtitles

(thunder crashes)

(clears throat)

(both shivering)

MALORY: Woodhouse? WOODHOUSE: Mum.

MALORY: If I see this glass empty again, I will be very

unhappy. WOODHOUSE: Perish the

thought, mum. MALORY: Now, then.

Who'd like to go first? (Cyril coughs)

No? All right, then I will.

Idiots! (both yelling)

Thank you, dear. For a moment there, I thought

I was going to be unhappy. Now, then.

Who's next?

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com

ARCHER: Okay, so, uh... I guess I'll go if...

MALORY: If I can just stop you there.

Will you please cover yourself?! CHERLENE: With what?

I don't have any... (spraying)

There. Happy? MALORY: No!

I didn't mean with whipped cream!

PAM: It's actually whipped cocaine, so...

(Malory groans) MALORY: That explains where

some of it went. CHERLENE: Mmm, and the tingly

numbness of my nipples. MALORY: And why are you

dressed like the whore the rest of the trailer park finally

decided they had to stone to death?

CHERLENE: Duh, we were shooting my album cover.

KRIEGER: Yes! Good, yes, that is perfect!

PAM: Perfect for what? Come on, it's an album cover,

not a... Amish Bible! PAM: You got to sex that shit

up sexy. KRIEGER: Um...

CHERLENE: I think it's pretty sexy.

PAM: You think that's sexy? With the rocket pops...

outside of you. CHERLENE: I mean...

KRIEGER: But if she eats them, we lose the whole red,

white and... okay... PAM: Yeah, not talking about

eating them. CHERLENE: Wait, what are

you... You want me to put a rocket pop in my vagina?!

PAM: Well, for starters. But let's not rule anything out.

You know? Let's kind of see where that leads.

We've got a shitload of film. KRIEGER: I'm supposed to have

film in this? CHERLENE: Goddamn it!

PAM: Krieger! LANA: So, I have a question.

PAM: The butthole, Lana, is what I was...

LANA: Yeah, I got that. But do you think the cover for a

country album should be hardcore...?

What do you even call that? Food porn?

PAM: I do. LANA: You think it makes a

good country album cover or you call it food porn?

PAM: Yes. LANA: Are you...?

(Cherlene squealing) CHERLENE: These things are

freezing! KRIEGER: Film, film, film,

film, film! LANA: Quit putting rocket

pops in your ass! CHERLENE: I'm eating them.

Jesus, what is wrong with you? LANA: I guess I just don't

get art. PAM: You obviously don't.

And it's not that we don't appreciate criticism.

It just needs to be constructive.

ARCHER: Yeah, Lana. MALORY: Shut up.

And then tell me what happened to the hundred pounds of...

BOTH: Kilos. MALORY: Kilos, thank you,

shut up. Of cocaine that you took to

Colombia. LANA: Which...

MALORY: Lana, when I want you to talk, I will tell you, and

until then, zip it! LANA: Wha...? What did I do?

MALORY: Nothing! ARCHER: Yeah, Lana.

MALORY: Which is why these feckless idiots lost 200 kilos

of cocaine! ARCHER: Yeah, La... Oh.

Uh, okay, technically, but then we stole a plane loaded with,

like, twice as much cocaine! MALORY: Is this the part

where you tell me to look under my seat?

ARCHER: No, unfortunately we ran into some...

CYRIL: Assholishness. (all yelling)

RAY: Archer, I swear to God! I will crash this plane right

into the goddamn ocean! ARCHER: I'll take my chances

with the ocean! The ocean isn't full of

alligators! And do not even think about it,

Cyril! CYRIL: Ray, what do I do?!

RAY: Uh... I guess hang on.

(grunts) ARCHER and CYRIL: Whoa!

(both grunting) RAY: Sorry, Cyril.

ARCHER: Ow. CYRIL: Oh, shut up.

It's your own fault. ARCHER: Debatable.

CYRIL: No, it's... ARCHER: Shut up.

Come on, Ray, there has to be somewhere to land besides the

middle of the damn Everglades. RAY: Well, not within fuel

range, so... ARCHER: And who's fault

is that? RAY: Isaac goddamn Newton!

You see that airstrip? The one that's circled?

That's the only one in range, and we've only, barely, got

enough fuel to make it there, so...

ARCHER: But Miami's, like, right over here.

CYRIL: We can't land at a real airport!

Even if Ray had filed a flight plan...

ARCHER: Why didn't you file a flight plan?!

That's like Airplane Stuff 101. CYRIL: Not when the airplane

is stolen and crammed full of guns and cocaine!

ARCHER: Ah. I will concede that point.

RAY: Damn it. ARCHER: What's up?

CYRIL: What's going on? RAY: Burning too much

fuel-- we're heavy. CYRIL: What do you mean,

heavy? ARCHER: You said we had

enough fuel to... RAY: I said barely!

I bet the Colombians didn't count on three passengers.

CYRIL (sobbing): Oh, my God, we're gonna crash!

ARCHER: Cyril, do not panic. Just get out.

CYRIL: What?! ARCHER: Do the right thing,

Cyril. You have nothing to live for.

CYRIL: Get your hands off me. ARCHER: Okay, relax. Jesus.

Whatever happened to Team Archer?

CYRIL: Please tell me that was never a real thing to you.

ARCHER: Eh... I mean... RAY: Hello?

Time's a bit of a factor here! ARCHER: Cyril, for the love

of God, man, jump! CYRIL: Just throw out the

cocaine. ARCHER: What?! No!

I'm not telling Mother I lost the original hundred pounds

of... CYRIL and RAY: Kilos!

ARCHER: ...whatever unit of measurement-- of cocaine!

Plus, all this cocaine! Do you have any idea how mad

she'd be? RAY: Well, the

alternative is a belly-landing in a swamp filled with

alligators! ARCHER: No. No, no, no. No.

What if, um... CYRIL: Archer!

Alligators or your mother! ARCHER: What's the

difference? They're both cold-blooded

prehistoric monsters. (Malory clears throat loudly)

MALORY: Excuse me? ARCHER: I meant the pain of

disappointing you would... bite... alligator... ish...

ly. MALORY: Uh-huh.

ARCHER: Anyway, right about then...

RAY: Okay, I can see the airstrip.

CYRIL: Well, can we make it? RAY: Maybe, if you...

ARCHER: Wait! Ray, you said the Colombians were flying to

this airstrip? RAY: Yes!

Why do you think it's marked on the chart, you idiot?

ARCHER: Okay, well, let's circle back to who's an idiot,

and talk about who's probably waiting at this airstrip.

(Cyril gasps) RAY: Dukes.

ARCHER: And what their reaction will be to three total

strangers showing up in their plane without their coke.

CYRIL: They'll kill us! RAY: Well... maybe not.

ARCHER: Wait, why? CYRIL: Why maybe not?

(sputtering) (Archer and Cyril shout)

RAY: Because that. (sputtering)

(Archer and Cyril shout) And that.

Happy? ARCHER: What, like, in

general or...? MALORY: Ooh, this is

exciting. I hope everyone dies.

ARCHER: Uh, we obviously d... Oh. Hardy har, Mother.

(slurps)

MALORY: And so our heroes, such as they are, have run out

of fuel and... what. RAY: No, no, no!

What are you doing?! CYRIL: Throwing out the guns!

RAY: No, no, no, no, no! You're screwing the trim all to

hell! ARCHER (chuckles): This

no-phrasing thing is killing me. RAY: Best case, our

glide ratio's maybe ten-to-one. But it's a lot less with the

damn door hanging... Oh, no, no, no!

(automatic gunfire) CYRIL: Yeah!

ARCHER: Woooooo!! Whoa, whoa, whoa!

(Archer and Cyril grunt) RAY: You idiots!

CYRIL: What did I do? ARCHER: Don't. There's no

talking to when he gets like this.

RAY: Dump the damn guns! CYRIL: Uh, I am, if you'd

shut up! ARCHER: Wait, wait, wait,

wait, Cyril! CYRIL: What? Archer!

RAY: We're coming in! Brace for landing!

ARCHER: Tell you in a minute. RAY: Gear down!

(Cyril moans) RAY (strained): We're not

gonna make it. (Cyril whimpers)

ARCHER: Exciting, isn't it? (Cyril yelping)

(Archer chuckling) ARCHER: Oh, so, Cyril...

what I was gonna say was... maybe don't throw out all the

guns because you know what they say...

it's better to have a gun and not need it than to be the

world's biggest dickhead, and inside your head there's a

million more dicks, like, uh, if you cut open a golf ball, only

instead of those little rubber bands in there, it's just, you

know... CYRIL: Dicks?

ARCHER: Oh, so you have heard that.

MALORY: And so Gillette lands safely-- I'm sure there's a joke

in there about fairy dust-- and then what happens?

CYRIL (chuckles): Yeah, tell her what happens next.

ARCHER: I will if you shut your... mouth.

(quietly): Okay, listen up. Say what you will about my

skills as a drug kingpin... RAY: You don't have any.

CYRIL: Completely nonexistent.

ARCHER: Are you done? RAY and CYRIL: Yes.

ARCHER: Good, because if there's one thing I'm good at,

out of the million other things I'm good at, it's infiltrating

the enemy with an assumed identity.

RAY: Named Randy. ARCHER: Named shut up, it's

not always Randy. GILLETTE (chuckling): Oh, my

God. CYRIL: Always.

(others agreeing) ARCHER: That's because

Randy's awesome! And I'm the best in the world at

this, so shut up and follow my lead.

Hey, guy... (grunts) (Ray and Cyril squeak)

SLATER: Anybody else in there?

RAY and CYRIL: No. (others reacting in shock)

MALORY: Sterling, how are you not dead?

ARCHER (sighs): Because I didn't get shot with buckshot.

I got beanbagged. (Pam growls)

Beanbagged, Pam. (others gasp, groan)

MALORY: Oh, my God. ARCHER: Yeah, I could've

died. CYRIL (scoffs): It was a

beanbag. ARCHER: Medical fact, Cyril.

If you get hit in the chest between heartbeats, you can die.

Go ask Houdini. PAM (chuckling): Ask him

what, how to get AIDS? MALORY (sighs): So who were

these goons? ARCHER: They were... They

kind of looked ex-military, now that you mention it.

MALORY: American. ARCHER: Yeah, and the

leader's name was... SLATER: Slater.

Just call me Slater. And sorry about the beanbag.

Man, that must kill. ARCHER: Yeah. Yeah, you hear

beanbag," you think Beanie Baby, not... internal bleeding.

SLATER: Well, the door was shot off, and we didn't know who

you were. Still don't, I guess, formally,

uh... ARCHER: Uh, Rand... o.

SLATER: Rando. ARCHER: Yep.

SLATER: Rando...? ARCHER: Uh, no, that's it.

It's a mononym, like Cher. CYRIL: Pliny.

RAY: Cantinflas! SLATER: I know what "mononym"

means. What I don't know is who you

people are. ARCHER: Uh, I'm Rando-- I

think we covered that fairly well-- and these are the, uh,

McCracken brothers, Phil and Odie.

CYRIL: Hello. RAY: Odie, hush.

SLATER: So why do you guys have my cocaine?

ARCHER: We... SLATER: I'm not done.

ARCHER: Sorry. SLATER: What have you done

with Gomez...

What, you're just not gonna answer?

ARCHER: Oh! S-Sorry. You kind of trailed off like

there was, like, a third... SLATER: Why do you have my

cocaine and where the hell is Gomez, full goddamn stop!

ARCHER: Gomez was gonna steal it.

SLATER: Says who? ARCHER (chuckles): "Who."

Nice. Anyway, they called us in, uh,

to address that, which we did and now we're here and...

Full stop? TOUGH GUY: Okay, this is the

last of it. The weight's good.

We tested ten of the bricks. Looks like it's all here.

SLATER: Well, either you guys are the shittiest coke thieves

on the planet... CYRIL (chuckles): Which we

are not. (chuckles) You know, I mean, if

that was... I mean, if we put our minds to it.

Look, here's the thing about the McCracken brothers...

ARCHER: Odie, hush! Uh, you were saying?

SLATER: Hey, between you and me, I thought Gomez was hinky

from the get-go and, since the coke's all here, let's get you

fellas loaded. ARCHER: Yeah, now you're

talking. About something else entirely.

Apparently. SLATER (chuckles): What, did

you nerf-nuts think I was talking about getting drunk?

ARCHER: Uh, yeah, on money. SLATER (laughing): Oh, man,

classic Rando. And don't worry, Calderon's good

for the money. At least for now.

Am I right, fellas? ARCHER: Are you?

SLATER (laughs): Classic Rando.

ARCHER (chuckles): Yeah, Rando's awesome.

SLATER: So, obviously you're not gonna be able to pressurize

this baby, so, uh... RAY: I'll keep it under

8,000. SLATER: Still gonna freeze

your asses off. Good thing you're flying south,

huh? ARCHER: Mmm... yep.

SLATER: You do know where you're going, right?

ARCHER: I absolutely know where we're going.

CYRIL: Yeah, back home to ask Mommy what to do.

ARCHER: Hey, shut up! CYRIL: You shut up!

ARCHER: Ow. (grunts) Ma, they done killed old Rando.

LANA: So, you leave here with a bunch of the first load of

cocaine, which just mysteriously appeared at ISIS and that Malory

swears wasn't hers... MALORY: Because it most

certainly was not! CYRIL: Wait, then where did it come from?

MALORY: Obviously from Sterling. ARCHER: Obviously from Mother.

MALORY and ARCHER: No, not from me!

Well, I certainly... (high-pitched whistle)

(others groaning) LANA: Sorry to break that up.

I love Freaky Friday as much as the next gal, but let's just

press on, operating under the assumption that one, or more

likely both, of you are lying and that...

MALORY and ARCHER: Lana, I swear...

LANA (whistles): Pressing on. So then you stumble into another

bunch of cocaine in the jungle and then continue stumbling into

a beanbagging arms dealer, so that now, almost inexplicably,

we have enough weapons to invade Quebec.

KRIEGER: Wait, literally? LANA: No, Krieger, not

literally. PAM: Aww.

CHERLENE: Lame. KRIEGER: Well, if we ever do,

the best time to invade is right after brunch, when

they're all logy. LANA: Archer?

ARCHER: I don't know. I mean, it couldn't hurt, but...

LANA: Still talking about this.

Not invading Quebec. ARCHER: Oh, yeah, then they

loaded the plane with the weapons, said we were heading

south and that Calderon would pay us.

LANA: Calderon? (gasps) As in Gustavo Calderon?

ARCHER (burps): Should I know who that is?

CYRIL: How could you not? ARCHER: I don't know, Cyril.

Maybe I was busy saving your life once, and then you shot me.

MALORY: Gustavo Calderon, aka Baby Gus, is the president of

San Marcos. (Archer burps)

ARCHER: Should I know... MALORY: Oh for God's sake,

Sterling, it's a country in Central America.

ARCHER: Mm, not according to this.

LANA: Because that thing's a hundred years old.

It still says "German East Africa."

KRIEGER: We will never recognize Tanganyika!

LANA: Well, it's Tanzania now, so...

PAM: Aww. CHERLENE: Lame.

KRIEGER: Well, whatever, as long as they don't nationalize

the ivory trade. I don't think my portfolio can

take the hit. LANA: Trust me, San Marcos is

a country. MALORY: And it's in the

middle of a civil war. Communist rebels are tearing

through the countryside like... like...

PAM: Cows. Bees.

Hang on. Bees.

MALORY (sighs): How do you not know about San Marcos?

It's all over the news every night.

ANCHORMAN: from San Marcos tonight, as the Communist rebel

forces consolidate their gains in the countryside, and now

prepare to move on the capital. We spoke with President Gustavo

Calderon, seen here volunteering at the hospital, comforting the

wounded. CALDERON: Oh, hello, I did

not see you there. I was comforting this brave

young man here, the fruit of San Marcos, wounded by a Communist

sneeper. I think he has died.

Yes. But let me say this, to the

Communists who are murdering our brave young fruits, and to

the puppet masters in Moscow and the capital of China, you

cannot kill the spirit of San Mar...

PAM: Aww. CHERLENE: Lame.

As in who cares. MALORY: The United States.

Apparently Calderon is barely clinging to power.

ARCHER: Huh. You think this is somehow

related? (chuckles)

I'm kidding, obviously. RAY: Are you?

PAM: Yeah, right. LANA: I don't think you are.

ARCHER: Yes, I'm kidding. Because you want to know what I

really think is going on here? CHERLENE: You're all jealous!

My album's coming out, and it's gonna be huge, and you're all

jealous, and so you just want to ruin it for me.

MALORY: Why would I want to ruin your album?

I get 50% of the profits. LANA: Archer?

ARCHER: I don't know, maybe a little jealous.

It's an exciting time for her. LANA: This.

Still talking about this. ARCHER: Oh, right, right,

right. So what I think is...

MALORY: I think you've managed to stumble backwards

into a CIA-backed, anti-Communist,

drugs-for-arms operation. ARCHER: Wow, that actually

makes more sense. LANA: Than...?

ARCHER: No, no, let's just go with her thing.

CYRIL: Which, if it's true, is...

MALORY: Wonderful. CYRIL: I was going to say

terrible. MALORY: Because you are a

timid man, Cyril. CYRIL: What? No, I'm not.

PAM (laughing): Dude, your balls are made of pussy.

(Archer laughs) ARCHER: Aah! Ow. Oh.

All kidding aside, I maybe should go to a hospital.

MALORY: Cyril, this is an opportunity to finally make

some money. Even if we had a buyer for the

cocaine, do we even still have half of it left?

KRIEGER: Eh... MALORY: What?

KRIEGER: It's, um, you know, not... It's...

MALORY: Krieger! KRIEGER: Mm?

MALORY: Tell me what's going on or I will literally

emasculate you. KRIEGER: Well, no, if you

literally emas... (coughs) Okay, so, for a few weeks, I've

been working on a bit of a side project.

I give you... the Red Kriegtober.

LANA: Um... KRIEGER: Or the Red

OctKrieger. I can't decide.

It's a narco-sub. For transporting cocaine.

It's totally undetectable by the Coast Guard.

Thoughts? LANA: How you gonna get it

out of here? KRIEGER: Hm?

LANA: How does that thing leave this room?

KRIEGER: Goddamn it! MALORY: Oh, for the...

How much money did you waste on that little boondoggle?

KRIEGER: Well, it's not that so much as...

MALORY: Krieger? KRIEGER: Well, I needed

ballast, and what better to simulate bricks of cocaine than,

you know, bricks of cocaine? MALORY: Krieger...

KRIEGER: And when I realized it would never feel the wind on

its face, or taste the salty spray of the sea, I... I...

(explosions) MALORY: You what?

KRIEGER: I blew it up! Goddamn you all to hell, I blew

it up! (all exclaiming)

CHERLENE: I'm not cleaning it up.

PAM: You mean it's all gone? KRIEGER: I... (sniffles)

No, no, not all of it. (Pam sobbing)

PAM: Why? KRIEGER: Shh, shh, shh, shh,

shh, shh, shh. There, there.

MALORY: Woodhouse, dear, I need some more ice.

WOODHOUSE: Straightaway, mum. MALORY: Oh, and a small bowl,

a mirror, a needle and thread, and a straight razor.

CYRIL: Whoa. RAY: Just calm down.

ARCHER: Whoa, whoa... LANA: You're not emasculating

Krieger. KRIEGER: What the hell was

the mirror for? MALORY: So you could watch.

(thunder rumbles) (Krieger squeaks)

(Malory sighs) MALORY: The perfect ending

to the perfect... (laughs)

I almost said "evening." More like months, though,

isn't it? Since we started scrabbling for

coins because the damn government took away our...

everything. They took everything.

And the only thing that was left, you idiots either lost,

gave away, ate or just blew up and sank.

ARCHER: Yeah, Krieger. LANA: Archer.

MALORY: And so, starting now, in addition to the country

music business, which... CHERLENE: Right?

MALORY: We are in the arms business.

KRIEGER: There's still a little cocaine left.

LANA: Krieger. ARCHER: Yeah, Krieger.

LANA: And do we want to talk about this or...

MALORY: You're welcome to. I, personally, am going to bed.

It's been a long night. ARCHER: Oh, yeah, wh-why are

you all dressed up? MALORY: Well, not that it's

any of anyone's business, but I had dinner with Ron.

ARCHER: What? CHERLENE: Ooh.

CYRIL: Sounds delightful. ARCHER: Wait-- you're still

getting divorced, right? MALORY: No.

We have decided to give it another chance, and so we will

be going to marriage counseling and... (mumbles)

ARCHER: Wait, what? PAM: Huh?

CYRIL: Marriage counseling and what?

ARCHER: I didn't catch that. MALORY: Oh, for...

We've decided to have an open marriage.

CYRIL: Okay. PAM: Nice.

KRIEGER: Gross. CHERLENE: Oh, my God.

MALORY: Well, it was either that or...

(phone rings) CHERLENE (gasps): Oh, my God.

It's Ron. Hello...

(all gasping) ARCHER: Oh, no!

MALORY: And so... ARCHER: Jesus.

Hope he doesn't call me.

Why would he call you? (phone ringing)

(clears throat)

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com