Original subtitles

(thunder rumbling) (screaming) ARCHER: Goddamn it, Ray. Are you drunk?

RAY: No, dumbass, are you? ARCHER: No.

LANA: Although not for lack of trying. ARCHER: Exactly, that's my

whole point. (retching) CYRIL: Oh, how can you drink

rum with all this turbulence? ARCHER: Oh, my God! That's my whole point!

MALORY: Enough already! My God, are you people paid by the word?

It's bad enough I'm packed into this flying boxcar with you... (gasping)

...without all this incessant bickering. It's like I'm stuck on a school

bus with the worst driver on the planet! (Ray muttering)

What was that? ARCHER: It is kind of like a school bus.

LANA: When have you ever been on a bus? ARCHER: No, from the movies.

We've got the whole Breakfast Club in here. I'm Emilio Estevez.

Cyril's obviously Anthony Michael Nerd. Mother, you're Paul Gleason.

Krieger's the loose cannon, Judd Nelson, and Lana, you're... um...

LANA: Wait, seriously? Molly Ringwald. ALL: Eh...

LANA: Oh, my God. MALORY: What the hell are you talking about?

ARCHER: Mother, hush. Lana, come on, if any of you ISIS women is Molly Ringwald...

CYRIL: It's obviously Cherlene. KRIEGER: Totally.

LANA: What? ARCHER: Yes, she's the rich one, she's a redhead...

LANA: So, what, you think I'm Ally Sheedy? MALORY: Are you all just

saying random words? CYRIL: Ally Sheedy would've been way more likely to get

pregnant in high school. KRIEGER: Had there been a sequel.

ARCHER: God forbid. KRIEGER: Right? CYRIL: And as for who's the

hot one... LANA: Wait, what, of us? I'm the hot one!

ALL: Eh... LANA: Oh, my God. CHERLENE: Oh, get over

yourself! (muttering) PAM: Shh! Will you shut up?

CHERLENE: Oh, please. She knows we're in here. PAM: She will if you

don't shut up. MALORY (sighs): Pam, I know you're in there.

PAM: No, we're not. But if we are, which I don't admit to, which Breakfast

Clubber am I? ARCHER: Hmm, I guess the janitor everybody thinks is

gross but turns out to be cool. PAM: Aw. CHERLENE (laughs): I love

that you take that as a compliment. (farts)

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com

PAM: So, can we get out of the crate now? MALORY: No, but as it seems

we've arrived at a pause in the idiocy, let's recap the plan for when we land in San Marcos.

LANA: Yeah, because I'm curious how we tell Calder?n we turned six million dollars'

worth of cocaine into one million dollars' worth of weapons.

MALORY: That's the CIA's problem. Calder?n doesn't care.

It's all gravy to him. ARCHER: Yeah, Lana. I was actually wondering that

myself. MALORY: All that matters is that Calder?n pays us for this

shipment. Then we use the profits to buy more weapons, which we sell to

him to make more profits to buy more weapons. Blah, blah, blah.

CYRIL (scoffs): Lana, for God's sakes, it's Econ 101. MALORY: Cyril, don't be

shitty. ARCHER: Yeah, Cyril! AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: Tower

to unidentified aircraft, you are now entering restricted San Marcos airspace.

Identify yourself. RAY: Uh, guys? ARCHER: Just tell them Slater

sent us. LANA: You think that's a good idea, flying into a war zone,

telling them we're with the CIA? ARCHER: If Slater even was CIA.

MALORY: Now, he's the one who teabagged you? (Pam growls suggestively)

ARCHER (scoffs): Beanbagged. MALORY: Oh, whichever. ARCHER: It's a fairly

important distinction. LANA: Sorry, can I be a nag for a second?

ARCHER: Oh, my God, Lana, I've had only, like, eight drinks.

LANA: Okay, not that, but wait, really? ARCHER: Yeah, I've totally

cut back, and not that it's any of your beeswax, but I've also cut back on... you know.

MALORY: On what? Sterling, with you, that could almost literally be anything.

ARCHER: Anonymous sex, if you must know. MALORY: Ew!

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: Beechcraft, please identify. RAY: Guys?

LANA: Really? ARCHER: I've totally, relatively cleaned up my act.

So maybe keep that in mind when you're choosing godparents. (Lana laughs)

LANA: I will, Archer. I really will. AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER:

Beechcraft, identify. RAY: Guys! ARCHER: Goddamn it, tell him

Slater sent us. LANA: Wait, wait, wait, wait. RAY: Tower, this is

Beechcraft. LANA: Ray! RAY: Uh, Slater sent us?

(groans) AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER: Beechcraft, you are clear for

landing. LANA: Thank you for hearing my concerns.

ARCHER: Jesus, will you relax? (gulping)

(belches) (groans) (sighs) What's the worst that

could happen? (tires squealing) TROOPS: Get on the ground!

(indistinct shouting) ARCHER: Don't shoot! Don't shoot!

(shouting continues) LANA: Way to go, Gilligan. (gunshot)

CALDER?N: Silencio! Who is in charge here? COMANDANTE: Se?or Presidente,

I... CALDER?N: Not you, you baboon-faced baboon.

I am obviously talking to these gringos, and also, if I am here, then you are obviously not in

charge. COMANDANTE: I... (gunshots)

(gun clicking) (gunshot) CALDER?N: And to repeat,

who is in charge here? ARCHER: That would be... CALDER?N: Because they are to

blame for this shipment of weapons being late. ARCHER: Her, that older woman

down there with the more or less permanent scowl. MALORY: Se?or Presidente, it

is such an honor to meet you. I'm Malory Archer. CALDER?N: Wow.

MALORY (chuckles): Well, thank you. Anyhoo, hello?

CALDER?N: So, the stories are true. KRIEGER: What stories?

I... no, not what, huh? Damn it, man, I was sleepwalking.

CALDER?N: Eh? (muttering in agreement) KRIEGER: Hey, what's

going on? CYRIL (sighs): Maybe you're their god.

(gasps) CALDER?N: Okay, all but him, arrest.

(indistinct talking) MALORY: Without even checking the merchandise?

(snapping) (groaning) Although not that particular

merchandise. (Pam and Cherlene shouting) (guns clicking)

(speaking Spanish) (shouting) (gunshots)

CHERLENE: Goddamn it! Who the hell drilled my box?! ARCHER: So, we're just done

with phrasing, right? That's not a thing anymore? (gasps)

I know, right? CALDER?N: Cherlene. CHERLENE: What?!

ALL: Wait, what?! ARCHER: Yeah, seriously, what?

CALDER?N: "Outlaw Country," "Hoochie Coochie Coochie Man," "Travis County Limitado."

I am... I am your biggest fan. Please, we go to the presidential palace?

PAM: I'm fine, too, by the way. ARCHER: Oh, great.

LANA: That's good. CALDER?N: Please, come, come. Come, come, come, come, come.

ARCHER: So, phrasing's just dead then? LANA: What is your...?

Wait, are you drunk? ARCHER (scoffs): Please. Off 12 drinks?

CALDER?N: Viva Cherlene! Viva Cherlene! TROOPS (chanting): Cherlene!

Cherlene! LANA: Wait a minute, you said eight drinks!

(chuckles) ARCHER: I lied. I mean, yes, eight.

TROOPS: Cherlene! Cherlene!

PAM (laughing): Holy dickballs! I mean, I mean, I mean, just

holy.... LANA: Dickballs. Yes, Pam, I got it.

CALDER?N: Are you sure? The room is okay? CHERLENE: Yeah, it's fine, whatever.

CALDER?N: I-I cannot believe it is actually you.

Here in my palace, I mean... CHERLENE: Yeah, it's blowing your mind, huh?

CALDER?N: Boom! (laughing): Yeah. Can I please bring you anything?

A freshly squeezed juice, a cocktail, a sandwich of your own choosing?

CHERLENE: Don't you, like, have a war to go to? (scoffs)

CALDER?N: It's in the mountains far, far away where we will crush the communist rebel

dogs! Especially now that we are once again receiving weapons.

MALORY: Yoo-hoo! And about that, I was hoping that you and I could discuss

our terms? CALDER?N: I... but Cherlene? MALORY: Is exhausted.

As is my drink. (sighs) CYRIL: Why do we always have

to share a room? RAY: The sinister gay cabal, Cyril, you have fallen victim to

the sinister gay cabal. CYRIL: Okay, you know... RAY: I don't know why we

always get stuck together. But I kind of don't mind it. CYRIL: Hmm, actually I don't

either, now that I think... RAY: Queer! (laughs)

(rhythmic zipping) (rhythmic shaking) ARCHER: Apache

Helicopters We should sell those 'Cause I'm a ropper.

(laughs) Ropper... Wow, that's awful.

But so far, being an international arms dealer is not.

I could get extremely used to this. Matt, Joel, hi, shut up.

Let's set up lunch with Adnan Khashoggi, I... (knocking)

(door opens) Whoa, whoa, uh, uh, oh, I ju... oh, ah, I just... (chuckles)

I... oh, got a, I got a... whoa, ho, ho, ho, oh, ho, ho, oh, no!

(metal clanging)

(clears throat) Uh, may I help you? MAID: I'm sorry to bother

you, sir. ARCHER: No, no, you didn't, aren't, or rather you couldn't,

or still haven't, I... MAID: I thought you might need more towels.

ARCHER: Oh, uh, no. I-I think I'm okay for right now.

(buttons popping) Although that being said, it's better to be safe than

sorry, at least with regards to towels. (buttons popping)

But only towels. KRIEGER: Hey, are there more towels?

Hey, are there more towels? Hey, are there more...? CYRIL: You realize this

isn't a hotel, right? LANA: And even if it were, that is not how you'd go about

getting towels! PAM: Who are you, Princess... hang on... Lana?

LANA: Well played. PAM: I've got crate lag. LANA: And where are you

going with that? PAM: Ice machine. CIL: Ooh, hey, I could use

some ice. KRIEGER: Oh, and if you see a housekeeping cart, can you grab

me some towels? PAM: Yep! KRIEGER: You're not going to,

are you? PAM: Nope! KRIEGER: Goddamn it.

Ha, hee, cold, cold, cold... LANA: And there, but for the grace of...

Hey, get me fizzy water! (Pam farts, laughs) Thanks!

MALORY: I'm sorry? CALDER?N: Tanks? MALORY: For?

CALDER?N: Hmm. Hmm... Maybe to start?

MALORY: I... defer to you? CALDER?N: Then yes, I think to start.

(cork pops) Yes? MALORY: Oh.

Yes, please. CALDER?N: But soon I think more, no?

MALORY: Well, I should hope so. Or is that not...?

CALDER?N: No, please, of course, I am willing to do whatever it takes.

Anything. MALORY: Well, then that makes two of us.

CALDER?N: Wait, really? Anything? MALORY: Yes?

CALDER?N: Gas? MALORY: I'm sorry? CALDER?N: You have gas?

MALORY: Wha...? No! CALDER?N: Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, sorry, I'm

sorry, I'm sorry, I thought you... MALORY: No! For the... No!

CALDER?N: I misunderstood. I apologize. MALORY: And well you should!

CALDER?N: And well I do! Please forgive me. MALORY: I mean...

PAM: What a frickin' clip joint. KRIEGER: No towels.

PAM: No ice machine. (Cherlene screams) CHERLENE: No towel machine?!

PAM: Yeah, right? CHERLENE: What is this-- Escape Fro..?

Wait, are we still in New York, or...? CYRIL: What?

No, we're in Central America. (gasps) CHERLENE: Oh, my God!

We did it! We're free! PAM: Do...?

CHERLENE: Outlaw different country woooooo!

PAM: Sometimes I worry about her. CYRIL: Eh.

KRIEGER: Ooh, hang on, maybe this is it. PAM: I don't know.

It looks kind of... KRIEGER: Ugh, Pam, they can't leave valuable towels and ice

just lying around. Hotel profit margins are very thin.

(gasps) Oh, oh, oh... (muffled yelling)

(screams) (all crying)

Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me. CYRIL: Krieger? What'd you, see a ghost?

PAM: Oh, my God, please say yes. ARCHER: All right, is

that happy hour I smell? CALDER?N: Yes, Mr. Archer. Please join us.

Your mother and I are drinking wine that belonged to Benjamin Franklin.

MALORY: We are? CALDER?N: And discussing a shipment of four American tanks.

MALORY: Oh, tanks! ARCHER: Thanks. Tanks? MALORY: We do tanks!

We can do anything, as long as you're willing to pay. CALDER?N: Me... me pay?

MALORY: Good, then it's settled. ARCHER: If you say so,

Mother. CALDER?N: No, no, no, I'm sorry, I-I thought this was why

the CIA was buying my cocaine. To sell to the American black people, to make the money to buy

the weapons to give me to fight the comunistas. MALORY: Exactly.

ARCHER: Wait, what? Why wouldn't they just...? MALORY: Sterling, shut up

and let me handle this. Because the problem, Gustavo... CALDER?N: Ooh.

MALORY: I'm sorry, may I call you Gustavo? CALDER?N: No.

MALORY: The problem, Se?or Presidente, the problem, you see, the problem is...

is the White House has lost faith in your ability to win this war!

CALDER?N: Ooh. MALORY: And so, if you want any more weapons, you'll have to

pay for them in cash. CALDER?N: Ooh! MALORY: Starting now.

CALDER?N: No, no, but I cannot afford to do this! MALORY: Oh, please.

Look at you, drinking Ben Franklin's wine like it's Kool-Aid, surrounded by

priceless art... Not this one obviously, but... CALDER?N: Oh, no, this one

cost 40 millions. MALORY AND ARCHER: What?! CALDER?N: Yes, it is an Ivan

Blitko. So we have, in this area, these very geometric shapes, in these

very bold colors here, and then the thick black lines are coming here, always drawing the eye to

here, and then, over everything... just white. Just layer after layer after

layer of pure white. Until you can see nothing of the painting below.

Not even with an infrared camera. MALORY: So... what's the

point? CALDER?N: The point? What is the point of a beautiful

woman? And speaking of! JULIANA (chuckles): Hello, darling.

CALDER?N: My wife. (Archer grunting)

(gulps) (burps)

MALORY: Sterling! Where are your manners? ARCHER: Probably in my room,

so I should go there right now and find them. CALDER?N: No, no, no, no,

no, please stay. Mi amor, may I present to you Sterling Archer, and also his charming mother Malory.

JULIANA: Juliana Calder?n. MALORY: A pleasure to meet you, Juliana.

JULIANA: Oh. MALORY: I'm sorry, may I call you...

JULIANA: No. CALDER?N: Uh, darling, how was your afternoon?

JULIANA: Exhausting. ARCHER: Mmm.

JULIANA: So hot and sweaty. To be honest, I'm ARCHER: Mmm.

really quite sore. CALDER?N: You see?

This is why I disapprove. Juliana sometimes goes among the servants, pretending to be a

maid, or working in the laundry, even one time helping to carry some rocks?

MALORY: Oh, how... JULIANA: Inspiring, really. MALORY: Mmm.

CALDER?N: I was just showing them the Blitko. JULIANA: Do you like what you

see, Mr. Archer? ARCHER: You know, so much that... I-I'm gonna go write

about it in my art journal! CALDER?N: She is going to bring us some tanks, so that we

may crush the rebel dogs. Did they tell you what is for dinner?

CYRIL: Clones? KRIEGER: Yes, clones! My God, it was like looking

in... several mirrors! PAM: Oh, man, oh, man, oh, man, oh, man...

KRIEGER: Archer! ARCHER: What?! KRIEGER: Ow, ah, hang on...

gotta stitch... oh... ARCHER: Damn it, I don't have time for... wait, Pam, did you

find an ice machine? PAM: Huh-uh. Ow, hang on... (groans)

ARCHER: Goddamn it... PAM: Clones! ARCHER: What?

CYRIL: Krieger says-- ow, hold on... ARCHER: Goddamn it!

CYRIL: Krieger says he saw a bunch of clones! ARCHER: Of what?

KRIEGER: Of me! We're running to find them. PAM: Wait, what?

I thought we were running away from them! ARCHER: Hang on, shut up,

hold that thought. KRIEGER: Guys, come on, let's go!

PAM: Not without a bunch of garlic and some wooden stakes. KRIEGER: What...?

They're clones, not vampires! PAM: It doesn't matter to the stake!

KRIEGER: What're you... we can't kill them! PAM: Well, not now.

We wait till morning and then murder them in their coffins. Cyril?

Thoughts? CYRIL: I just really wish I hadn't come on this stupid trip.

But since I did... KRIEGER: Taaaaanks! You jerks.

(muffled scream)

(muffled scream) (Lana sighs) LANA: Don't even want to

know. ARCHER: Lana! Lana!

Oh, my God, you gotta help me! LANA: Oh, for the... there is no ice machine!

ARCHER: Okay, not that, but A) a palace this big definitely has an ice machine,

maybe not in the hall, but it's not like they make ice with trays.

B)... LANA: "B" is hey, shut up, because I want to talk to you

about that thing where you said you're cleaning up your act. ARCHER: Which I'm actually

pretty serious about, by the way, but right now I want to talk about this other thing

where I just banged Calder?n's wife. Lana?

LANA: Uh, hang on. Okay. (clears throat)

Why would you do that?! ARCHER: I... I'm sorry, do you mean where?

LANA: No, Archer, I mean why! What happened to no more anonymous sex?

ARCHER: It wasn't anonymous, Lana. I thought she was the maid.

LANA: Why would you think that?! ARCHER: I'm sorry, do you

mean why? LANA: Wh... Yes! Why?!

ARCHER: Uniform, towels, the usual maid stuff! LANA: The... whoa-whoa-whoa-

whoa, back up. What is your definition of anonymous sex?

ARCHER: I don't know, bird masks? LANA: What?

ARCHER: Or a woman you literally bump into on the train.

Or the ferry. Or in a port-a-john at the Preakness that time, but not

somebody who works directly for a president, I can tell you that.

I mean, we're talking major security clearance, so you got to assume there's a pretty

thorough vetting process for... that... you know... LANA: You done?

ARCHER: Hang on. Yes? LANA: Okay. So.

Here's my advice. (grunts, moans) Do with it as you will.

(Archer moans, coughs) (groaning) CHERLENE: Hey, are you going

to this dinner? (retches) Or did you already eat...

crayons? JULIANA: Should we not just start?

(clears throat) CALDER?N: Not until the guest of honor arrives.

CHERLENE: Woooooo-hoo! (Calder?n gasps) CALDER?N: Yes, yes, yes, yes,

yes, yes, come, come, come, come, come, come, because I am pulling out!

CHERLENE: Phrasing, boom! ARCHER: Thank you. (moans)

LANA: How's the balls? ARCHER: Ruined? I'm pretty sure?

CALDER?N: Okay, you sit there. Uh... you.

Up. MALORY: I beg your pardon? CALDER?N: Get up.

Come on, move it, up, up, up! MALORY: Well, of all the... CALDER?N: Please, Cherlene.

Everyone, raise a glass, and join me to toast Cherlene! Because-- and I happen to know

this for a fact-- her debut album has now officially sold one million copies!

(Malory shrieks) (others cheering) CYRIL: Yay!

CHERLENE: How? It came out, like, yesterday. CALDER?N: Yes!

Amazing! A toast. CHERLENE: No, like literally

yesterday. CALDER?N: And now it is platinum.

A toast! CHERLENE: I just don't see how it's possible.

(forklift beeping) (many forklifts beeping) CALDER?N: It doesn't matter

how! A toast! PAM: Hear, hear!

(murmurs of agreement) CALDER?N: And also let us not forget my brave soldiers, yes,

out there, fighting those rebel dogs, far away! PAM: And plus that one right

there. COMANDANTE: Se?or Presidente! The rebels have broken through

our lines! They...

They are now within mortar range! (screaming)

CHERLENE: Oh, my God! It's starting! MALORY: What is?

CHERLENE: Cherlenemania! LANA: It's a mortar attack! CHERLENE: I know!

How frickin' outlaw country is that?!

I'll burn it down

I'll burn it down to the ground

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0