Original subtitles

MURPHY (O.S.): Time and tide, they wait for no man.

MURPHY: Nor do I, Mr. Tunt, nor do I. And unless my demands are

met, I will launch my nerve gas missiles on New York,

Washington and Miami in... Eleven hours and -- oh look at

that, eleven minutes. Hey, make a wish.

CECIL: Uh, I wish you wouldn't launch nerve gas missiles on

New York, Washing- MURPHY: And I wish you fools

would stop destroying the oceans! Overfishing, industrial runoff, don't even get me

started on whaling, oh, and plastic bottles?! That's --

I can't even - there is a floating mass of garbage in the Pacific

twice the size of the United States! Oh, and where the hell

is the news crew I asked for?!

CECIL: With me! And with your permission, I'm sending them down in the DSV.

MURPHY: Good, yes! I need to get my message to the world!

Who'd you get? Oprah?

CECIL: Bigger.

LANA: Ya know... MURPHY: Hello. Is that her?

LANA: I -- oh right, he can't see us.

MURPHY: Which has really got me... nettled!

MURPHY: Alright, Mr. Tunt, send them down. But if this is some sort of ruse...

CECIL: Are -- was there a follow-up, or...?

MURPHY: No, I was leaving the consequences to your

imagination. But trust me, they are grave. As in watery grave?

CECIL: I - MURPHY: Sealab out!

God damn it! Off! Turn off, you... [zzzrpt]

LANA: So, I have a question... MALORY: How are none of these a minibar?!

TIFFY: Oh my God, I know what you mean, right? I mean it is a

giant floating biodiesel-

powered hotel room...

MALORY: Don't get snotty with

me, missy! You people lure us out here to help the government

recover a hydrogen bomb- LANA: Which, let's be honest,

you were going to hold for ransom.

MALORY: Reward! When the whole time you knew this crazy Murphy

character was going to bomb New York with nerve gas?!

CECIL: Well!

LANA: Not to mention D.C. and Miami.

MALORY: Which no one who matters will miss.

LANA: What about your South Beach condo?

MALORY: Hello! Florida real estate collapse! It's farther

underwater than Sealab. But if my homeowner's policy covers

nerve gas attacks, that's a win-win.

LANA: Wow. So my question, ignoring the obvious one of why

an ocean research lab has nerve gas missiles in the first

place! Is how many men does Murphy have?

CECIL: Mmmmmlike, two?

LANA: Oh, then -

CECIL: Score. Two score, so

around forty, sorry, should've

finished that thmmpf.

LANA: Sooo, since we're talking about forty hostiles, I

have a follow up question.

ARCHER: Something something danger zone?!

LANA: Ahhhhh! ARCHER: I know, I'm not even trying anymore.

LANA: Archer- ARCHER: Noop! Randy! I'm

Cameradude Randy, and this

pathetic, trout-shouldered excuse for a boom operator is Chet.

CYRIL: Shut up, what's pathetic is your plan!

LANA: Wait, you have an actual plan?

ARCHER: Duh, yes Lana. So, obviously they're gonna search

us for weapons when we get down there, so wait whaaaaaaaat?

Something else danger zone.

LANA: Get Murphy alone, get him at gunpoint, and make him

disarm the missiles. Ya know, that might actually work.

ARCHER: Of course it'll work, I've thought through every aspect of the mission.

LANA: Hence those ridiculous fake mustaches, since Murphy's

never seen you before and has no idea what you look like?

GILLETTE: God damn it, Archer!

ARCHER: No, that was just an experiment. I wanted to see if Ray looked

gayer without his.

GILLETTE: Ya know... ARCHER: But you don't. You just look as gay.

Boop.

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TIFFY (O.S.): Sea Tunt to DSV Goddess. Wait for my command to

disengage the coupler.

LANA (O.S.): Roger Sea Tunt, on your- ARCHER (O.S.): Noop! Lana

move, I'm skippering.

EVERYBODY (O.S.): Archer, no! ARCHER (O.S.): Goddammit I'm skippering!

EVERYBODY: AAHHHHH!!!

CECIL: Huh. Mildly inauspicious.

LANA: Asshole.

ARCHER: What Lana, I clearly called "skipper!" And I clearly

said "seatbelts," so... You only have yourselves to blame.

GILLETTE: Really?

LANA: Jesus, Ray! Your nose is broken!

GILLETTE: Really?

LANA: Cyril, gear bag! First aid kit!

ARCHER: Just give him a couple of tampons. What, that's their job.

LANA: Really?

ARCHER: Just give him some tam- LANA: I don't have any!

ARCHER: Do you... think that was wise?

LANA: Meaning?

ARCHER: Well I'm just assuming, I mean, your breasts

are slightly bigger, you're- LANA: Shut your stupid

mustachey dickhole and drive the goddamn submarine!

ARCHER: Slightly irritable?

CHERYL/CAROL (O.S.): Shut up!

Jesus, will you drop it?!

He tried to have me committed so he could steal my

inheritance! I hate him and I'm never speaking to him again ever!

PAM: But -- okay granted, that was super shitty. But trust me,

you don't want to go through life hating your only sibling.

Take my sister Edie... CHERYL/CAROL: Ha, ha, ha, you have a sister?

PAM: Edie, yes, shut up, and when we were kids she was so

mean to me? Always teasing me, calling me Spamela, rubbing

cheese curds in my eyes? One time she stabbed me in the neck?

CHERYL/CAROL: So, now you guys are super-close, or...?

PAM: Ha ha ha, hell no, I wouldn't piss on her neck-stabbin ass if

it was on fire.

MALORY: Ugh, is this the infamous Edie?

CHERYL/CAROL: Yeah, Pam thinks I should forgive Cecil since

he's the only family I have left.

MALORY: Who could forgive a person who buys a boat this big with no bar on it?!

CHERYL/CAROL: There was a ton of booze on the helicopter...

MALORY: Exactly, was... ARCHER (O.S.): Yeah sorry, I had to ditch it.

CYRIL: Well yeah, who needs a first aid kit when you've got

ten gallons of booze?!

ARCHER: Three and three-fifths gallons, Cyril, and I counted

'em so keep your mitts off!

Except to pass me one up here, but- LANA: Oh great! The world's first DSVUI!

ARCHER: May I finish?! But since I have zero experience

skippering submersibles, I should probably have something

light! So Cyril, I'm thinking coffee liqueur?

MALORY: I mean, not even cooking sherry?

PAM: I got some Kentucky Moon in my- MALORY: Ooh, gimme!

PAM: Dut dut dut dut! You drink it, you replace it. Grain

alcohol's a key component of a good bug-out bag.

MALORY: A what?

PAM: Bug-out bag? Oh my God, for teotwaki?!

MALORY: The bear from Star Wars?

PAM: The end of the world as we know it!

CHERYL/CAROL: Pam's like, gay for doomsday, she thinks our

whole society's gonna collapse if we run out of oil or whatever.

PAM: If?! You mean when! Wow, and that is a perfect

example of a pre-post-peak-oil

mindset. The --

MALORY: Ahhh. Say, this stuff

is pretty good. What did you say it was?

PAM: Basically pure ethanol?

MALORY: Huh. Well God bless corn subsidies.

CHERYL/CAROL: Who're you, Earl Butz?

MALORY: You say that like it's a bad thing.

ARCHER (O.S.): Oh for the-- I said I was sorry!

CYRIL (O.S.): No you didn't!

ARCHER: Oh. Well I was planning to.

GILLETTE: Oh, well then no hard feelings.

ARCHER: Good, because your shitty sarcasm notwithstanding,

I'm glad that's behind us so we can enjoy what is probably a

once in a lifetime ad- LANA: Rrrowrff!

ARCHER: -- venture, again?

Seriously? Why are you puking so much?

LANA: Ugh, because shut up and steer.

ARCHER: Here, take a pull off this guy.

LANA: No! For the like, ninth time, no!

ARCHER: Yes, c'mon, it'll take the edge off. And I think I

speak for everybody- CYRIL/GILLETTE: No you don't.

ARCHER: -- shut up, when I say we'd all be a lot happier if you weren't so...

LANA: What, anxious?! About a half-drunk first-time-driving-a-

submarine idiot taking me to the bottom of the ocean to face

forty eco-terrorists led by a crazy person who's about to

bomb the entire east coast with nerve gas?!

ARCHER: I was gonna say- LANA: What?! What were you gonna say?!

MURPHY: They're going to say that I've gone insane, that

I've lost my mind. And that's fine, let them. Because the real insanity is the

systematic, my God the almost deliberate way, those bastards

are destroying our oceans.

And I hate that it's come to this, but I truly don't see an alternative.

So, you all know what you have to do, and I know you won't fail me.

Nor I you, gentlemen... nor I you.

ARCHER: I was gonna say "bitchy and periody" but then I thought better of it.

ARCHER (O.S.): Okay, we're getting close. Let's go over

the legends again. Lana?

LANA: I am tough-but-fair investigative reporter Sojourner King.

ARCHER: Which, ugh, whatever.

Cyril?

CYRIL: [sigh) Chet, sound guy.

ARCHER: That's it? C'mon Chet, the devil's in the details!

Like, I'm Randy Magnum, local Emmy-winning cameraman and

nationally ranked pro kitesurfer.

LANA: No you're not.

ARCHER: Well Randy Magnum is!

Ray, go.

GILLETTE: I am segment producer Carl Channing... ARCHER: Oh my God, c'mon...

GILLETTE: And -- what's Randy Magnum ranked?

ARCHER: Fourth.

GILLETTE: And third-ranked pro kitesurfer.

ARCHER: What?! No you're not!

GILLETTE: Carl Channing is.

LANA: Nobody is a nationally ranked anything! That is the

worst legend you could possibly have, it would literally take

ten seconds to check it out!

ARCHER: Yeah, Carl.

LANA: Okay, shut up, there it is.

CYRIL: Jeezy Petes, that thing is huge!

MURPHY: Sealab to DSV, over?

LANA: This is- ARCHER: This is DSV I'm skippering!

MURPHY: Um, okay. You sound pretty excited.

ARCHER: I am, actually. It's my first time.

MURPHY: Hey, super.

You're clear to dock, so just head for the lights.

And I'll be waiting for you.

[zzrpt]

LANA: Was that -- did he sound -- do you think this is some kind of trap?

ARCHER: What? No, I don't think it's a trap! Although I never do...

And it very often is.

LANA: And that's how they died... ARCHER: Right?

MALORY: A little peach juice, a little of that old Kentucky Moon, and... boom.

You've almost got yourself a Bellini.

CHERYL/CAROL: Mmmm!

PAM: Holy shitsnacks!

MALORY: Well it's no Harry's Bar, but here you don't have

Hemingway grabbing your tits every time you-[flrp]

PAM: Did I misread that?

MALORY: What do you think?

PAM: No?

MURPHY (O.S.): No, my men are guarding the missiles.

CYRIL: Well there goes that plan.

MURPHY: What plan?

LANA: To... do a one-on-one interview, just you alone, with the missiles?

MURPHY: No, we're doing it on the bridge, I've already got it all set up.

LANA: But I really think we should do it wherever the

missiles are, to underscore the gravity of the -

MURPHY: The bridge is where the chair is.

LANA: But- MURPHY: The bridge is where the chair is!

ARCHER: Yeah, Sojourner.

MURPHY: Thank you, uh...?

ARCHER: Randy, Randy Magnum, I'm a local Emmy-winning

cameraman and nash - LANA: Nooo!

ARCHER: -- shunally ranked pro kitesurfer, second in the

nation, actually, which even the most cursory internet search will corroborate.

LANA/CYRIL/GILLETTE: [sigh]

MURPHY: I really doubt we'll have time, Randy.

MURPHY: We only have ten hours before I'll be forced to launch my missiles.

LANA: Which are where again, exactly?

MALORY (O.S.): You heard me!

I want fifty million dollars!

TIFFY: Pff, join the club.

CECIL: Right?

MALORY: That's how much I could've gotten for the hydrogen bomb, so that's how

much I -- what do you mean, join the club?

CECIL: Oh, that's just an idiom, it means- MALORY: I know what it means,

you toboggan-wearing ass, why did she say it?!

CECIL: Oh. I assume because I'm penniless?

MALORY: What?!

CHERYL/CAROL: Ha, ha, oh.

Wait, what?

CECIL: (sighs) That's why I tried to get control of your

inheritance. And I'm sorry I did that, Beans. I just

wanted to help people, but all these foundations are so expensive.

CHERYL/CAROL: I know, but Cecil! You really spent your

whole inheritance on... the poors?

CECIL: Well, and scientific research. The Sealab alone cost

two hundred million.

MALORY: Wh-?! How did it cost that much?!

CECIL: Well apparently they bought a bunch of nerve gas

missiles, and hid that expense in the budget. Which I never bothered to read.

Or even look at.

MURPHY: Look at this place!

Such a colossal boondoggle! We don't do any research, really,

and building it, I mean, the environmental impact was just insane!

LANA: So... why did you take a job here?

MURPHY: To save the ocean! And also my salary is six hundred

thousand dollars a year.

EVERYBODY: What!?

MURPHY: I know, but don't put that in there. Let me just read

my list of demands. Ahem. One, a fifty-year, worldwide

moratorium on all fishing. Two- CYRIL: I'm sorry, did you mean whaling?

MURPHY: That's number two, if you'll let me -

LANA: Wait, you want to end all fishing?

ARCHER: For fifty years?!

MURPHY: At least. The fish have to replenish.

LANA: Okay, that's it, I'm calling bullshit. I want to see the missiles, now.

MURPHY: What, no, you can't, you- LANA: You don't have any missiles!

MURPHY: Yes I do! I've got... like fifty.

LANA: Fifty.

MURPHY: Ten?

ARCHER: That's still a lot.

LANA: Shut up. Captain Murphy, how long have you been down here all alone?

MURPHY: (sigh) Two years.

Nobody had been paid in months, the foundation was broke...

CYRIL: Not surprising, given your salary.

MURPHY: Yeah, paid three years in advance. He is the world's worst negotiator.

LANA: And you're, sorry, but you've obviously had some kind

of psychotic break, so I think you should come with us, and -

MURPHY: I'm not going anywhere! Nor are you!

CYRIL/GILLETTE: Lanaaa!

LANA: Archerrrr!

ARCHER: Murpheeee!

I -- dammit, I had something about point-and-shoot, but -

MURPHY: A gun?! Are you insane, don't you know how much pressure we're under?!

ARCHER: Honestly, and I don't know why this is, but it never really gets to me.

CYRIL: Wait, I think he means water pressure!

MURPHY: And air pressure! The tiniest hole in the hull would be catastrophic!

ARCHER: The hole! Is gonna be in you!

LANA: Archer, no! Don't shoot.

MURPHY: Okay okay, look, it's gone!

Now please, put the gun away!

ARCHER: No, I will put on the safety! Which should be...

dammit, I wish Krieger wouldn't do these idiot mods.

KRIEGER: ("drum solo")

Duhduhduhduhduhduhduhduh bow dow dow dowwwwwwww! Dow dow dadowwwwwwwww!

ARCHER: Wait, yeah, that clearly says "safe," and even

Krieger's not that crazy... [click]

ARCHER: Okay, now slowly kick the knife over to-[BLAM!]

CYRIL: Dammit!

LANA: Oh my God...!

MURPHY: Okay, okay, okay, uh, okay, one of two things is

going to happen now... [SPRZZINK!]

EVERYBODY: Oh! Okay! Oohhh!

[SPRRZZZRIINK!]

EVERYBODY: Aahhhh!

MURPHY: Okay, now one of one thing is going to hap-[BWOOOOOOSH!]

EVERYBODY: OHHHH..

[zzzzzztttttt]

CECIL: Uh? Well now there's no signal at all... TIFFY: Wow, oh my God, I'm

having the weirdest d�jà vu right now.

CECIL: Ya know...

TIFFY: Here, lemme jailbreak

your phone, it's a totally

reversible process.

Oh, bricked it!

[SPRRZZZEINK]

EVERYBODY: OOOOHHHHHH!!!!

MURPHY: Hatch!

Emergency hatch!

[WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP!]

ARCHER: We don't wanna go outside, idiot!

MURPHY: It's the next pod!

ARCHER: Oh, duh.

MURPHY: I'll hold it open! Go, go!

LANA: Aaaagh... ungh!

CYRIL: Aaaagh... GILLETTE: Aaaagh...

LANA: No no no no no -- Assholes.

ARCHER: Wooohooohooohooooooof!

Ow.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.): Pod One, flooded. Pod Two, flooding.

ARCHER: So what, now we die in... a break room I would die to have at ISIS?!

GILLETTE: Right?

CYRIL: Maybe not, if he shuts the ha- MURPHY: Aaaaaaagh!

[KAKROONCH!]

EVERYBODY: Ewwww!

MURPHY: Rrrgh, and I just refilled the cans... LANA: C'mon you guys,

get it off of him!

MURPHY: No no, there's no time... (cough) Plus I think

the weight of it's the only thing holding in my intestines.

EVERYBODY: Eww.

MURPHY: Save yourselves. Let this compartment flood, up to

that next hatch... Then seal it behind you, and run.

This is pod two, it's about a hundred yards to the

DSV at pod six, but pods three through six are still watertigh-[GRRRRNKOOOSH]

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.): Pod three, four, five, six. Flooded.

EVERYBODY: Aaaghhh!

MURPHY: Yeah, that's not ideal. Okay, there's -wait, why

did a TV crew have a gun?!

LANA: We're not a TV crew, we're from ISIS.

MURPHY: ISIS?! Jesus Christ, no wonder this all went tits up.

EVERYBODY: Hey!

MURPHY: Forgive my candor, I just felt my spleen slip out of

what was my anus. (coughs) That locker over there, open it.

CYRIL:(grunts) (gasps) Scuba gear!

LANA: [gasp]

ARCHER: Dibs on best!

GILLETTE: Oooh, y'all I'm not certified, is that gonna be a problem?

MURPHY: Well, not the biggest problem... LANA: There's only three.

ARCHER: Sooo... MURPHY: So one of you is going to drown.

ARCHER: Yep, got that... MURPHY: Temporarily.

EVERYBODY: What?

MURPHY: Hundred yards to the DSV. Best case, for a strong

swimmer, two minutes. (coughs)

The water's ice cold, help delay the brain damage. Use the

defibrillator on the DSV... to restart the heart.

LANA: Yeah but whose heart?!

MURPHY: (coughs) Weakest swimmer.

LANA: Wh-? Aww, screw you guys!

ARCHER: What, Lana, this isn't -- entirely about race! Guys, back me up here.

CYRIL: Well I was all-county in the hundred meter freestyle in tenth grade...

GILLETTE: And I have bionic legs... CYRIL: Plus I'm super scared...

ARCHER: Plus you're a woman?

LANA: I -- yeah, a pregnant woman!

ARCHER/CYRIL/GILLETTE: What?

LANA: That's why I haven't been drinking, that's why I've

been puking, and that's why my boobs are so huge!

ARCHER: Well I wouldn't say "huge," but -

CYRIL: When were you planning to tell me?!

LANA: (sighs) When I finally figured out how to tell you it's not yours.

CYRIL: Gnk?

MURPHY: Awwwkwaaaard... (coughs) Ignore me, sorry, I'm

dying. Crushed, by an off-brand drink machine. (gasps) Oh my

God, just like that old gypsy woman srgbgh... CYRIL: Gnnk! Gnnk! Gn - [THWAK!]

ARCHER: Get it together! We both know this isn't your first time as a cuckold!

Or at least now we both know it. And for real? You're pregnant?

LANA: Five weeks, long story, yes, but- ARCHER: Shut up. Here.

LANA: Wh-? But- ARCHER: Ray's half robot,

Cyril, miraculously, is good at

something, and... Lana, you're gonna be a mom! Just promise me

you'll be a better one than mine.

CECIL: Because I'm worried something may have gone

terribly wrong down there... MALORY: Well if it did, we

can't do anything about it, and if it didn't, all the more

reason to drive this tub to Bermuda for some duty-free champagne!

LANA: Archer, that shouldn't be that hard.

ARCHER: Ff-ff-ffrasing... [cough/choke]

LANA: Okay, here it comes! You just gotta relax and let it go in your mouth!

ARCHER: Ff-ff- ffrasinglrrgllrg...!

LANA: Archer?!

ARCHER: Laggaah?

ARCHER: Gly gluggve ggglooo... LANA: I know. Ray, now!

GILLETTE: C'mon, hurry!

CYRIL: Move! Scarlet Letter O'Whora!

LANA: Cyril! It was a...!

Donor, you shithead.

C'mon, hang on Archer, two minutes! Your brain can -- almost spare that!

GILLETTE: So hey, this may be a weird question, but you know

where she's registered?

CYRIL: Wh-?! What do you think?!

GILLETTE: Lanaaa! Would you hurry up?!

LANA: (panting) Said the guy apparently too busy counting

his bionic legs to help!

GILLETTE: You're gonna sass yourself right out of a carseat! Now c'mon, hurry!

LANA: [panting/straining]

GILLETTE: Cyril! Get ready on the airlock!

CYRIL: Yeah, yeah... LANA: Here, go go go go go.

GILLETTE: I got him I got him!

LANA: Cyril now, blow it!

CYRIL: Blow me, boom, nailed it.

[FWOOOOOSH!]

LANA: Clear?!

GILLETTE: Clear!

[zzzttt bmmm]

LANA: Again!

GILLETTE: C'mon, he's dead let it go!

LANA: Clear?!

GILLETTE: Clear!

[zzzttt bmmm]

[beep, beep, beep]

LANA: Archer?!

EVERYBODY: Oh!

GILLETTE: Is he...? Are you...?

ARCHER: The man who cheated death?!

EVERYBODY: Oh! Thank God.

LANA: Oh my God, Archer, I can't -- I mean, I don't even know how to thank you!

ARCHER: Well, you could name

your kid after - LANA: Noop.

ARCHER: Then just get me topside. I need to brush Ray's tongue out of my mouth.

GILLETTE: I didn't give you mouth to mouth!

ARCHER: C'mon, admit it, you Frenched me! You can lie but your boner can't!

GILLETTE: (laughing) Cut it out, Archer!

ARCHER: Yeah, look at ya! All blushy!

LANA: Archer be careful, the defibrillator- [BZZZZRPT!]

MALORY: So. Although Sealab was destroyed... CECIL: It was insured for

three times its value, so now I'm richer than ever.

CHERYL/CAROL: And I have forgiven you, for being such an incorrigible douche.

MALORY: No one cares, because

most importantly -

ARCHER: I cheated not only

death, but also somehow irreparable brain damage!

MALORY: That remains to be seen, and shut up, because Lana

is going to be a mother!

CYRIL: Three cheers for little Johnny Bastard!

PAM: Hip, hip!...Ahem.

Inappropriate.

MALORY: The point is -- and seriously, shut up -- everybody has a happy ending!

GILLETTE: Really?! Ol' Ray gets a happy ending?!

ARCHER: Ray- GILLETTE: Or does Randy

Roughhouse here zap him with a

defibrillator and fry the CPU that made his bionic legs work?!

ARCHER: Ray, I'm sorry! C'mon, I was wrong!

GILLETTE: Really.

ARCHER: Yeah, without the mustache you look, like, a billion percent gayer.

Boop.

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