Original subtitles

NADJA: Dear Diary, I have been reminiscing

about the days I spent hanging with those teen girls in Salem.

Those bitches were absolutely crazy!

Really knew how to throw down.

Another win for the greatest spy on Earth.

Lana? Win toast?

It's nine o'clock in the morning.

Yeah, and champagne is, like, the breakfast of alcohols.

Congratulations, team.

Your success has given your company great buzz.

"Roomful of bees" buzz.

Bees with buzz cuts.

-Swarming Buzz Aldrin. -That's a lot of buzz.

And Robert's sizable donation

to the environmental fund didn't hurt.

Arguably, it did most of the work.

That's a heavy check doing some heavy lifting.

-But still. -BOTH: Great buzz.

I notice you say "buzz,"

but we hired you for "job offers."

Don't worry, you are top of mind

for many stakeholders.

You just need a splashy success.

Not that this wasn't a success.

But it was a normal success.

-And now we get splashy. -Cannonball!

I'm sorry, saving an entire plane

from hijackers isn't splashy?

Buzz is also saying that was, like, 80...

-Uh, 85. -Percent an accident.

That last 15% was all me.

Uh, sorry--

all me with an assist from my supporting cast.

-Ugh. -Anyway,

keep up the good work!

And remember: leap without a net.

Alton, where's your parachute?

Oh, boy. If my head wasn't attached--

Useless.

[laughs] Speak of the devil.

Guys, I found something amazing.

I was re-organizing our old filing system

and discovered we have an open contract.

Something about ongoing service

for "high sensitivity battery replacement" in London.

Oh, goodness.

I haven't thought about that in years.

So, you gonna...

Shh, shh, shh, I'm remembering.

-We talking beefcake? -This is a closed meeting.

Duh-doy.

Why do you think we wanted in here so bad?

Now give me dem deets.

Fine. The man is Cornelius Varma,

great-grandnephew of the Indian Maharani of Travancore.

He had the physique of a tawny Adonis

and the nimblest fingers you've ever--

Okay, Mother. We get it.

I'm referring to the way he placed bugs.

Jesus, I don't need to know what you call it.

Wait, why were you bugging the British?

-It was a different time. -1812?

Cyril, you were saying?

Well, according to the case file,

if the batteries are replaced, the bug will release a code.

If we transmit the code

to the account where the money is held--

-Dolla dolla bills, y'all? -Bingo.

Not flying to England to change a battery for 20 bucks.

-It's pounds, Lana. -You know what I meant.

And I know how to finish my insults.

Jeezy Petes.

I just checked the battery bank account.

With interest, it's currently holding over a million dollars.

-ALL: What? -CHERYL: Oh, that's cute.

I think for this, you're going to need an assist

from someone who knows the territory.

Someone who, if need be,

can call on an important ally in a pinch.

And who's that, he said,

dread creeping into his voice?

Was the cat suit really necessary?

For me? No.

It's more for the public.

-Oh! -Ugh, still got it.

Thank you, Sterling.

And by it, I mean this image,

burned into my retinas till the end of time.

Lucky boy.

Jeez, this place is as dusty as a--a--

A desert in a sandstorm?

My signed oath to do no harm?

Eleanor Roosevelt's vagina?

Aww, sad if true.

Stop. I would have had something.

Lana got in my head.

Not really a challenge.

Pardon me. Delivery for Lana Kane?

Damn it, Krieger,

I thought you told me this place was secure.

I told you, or you thought I told you?

Ugh. Just leave them by the door.

-Right, then. -Nope, take them back.

If Robert thinks for one second

that a handful of glorified weeds

can make up for what he said to me,

he is more mistaken than--

You were for marrying him?

Ha! I'm back, baby!

Focus. According to our records,

the bug was still active

until the battery went out three years ago.

Since it was powered down,

there's a good chance it hasn't been picked up by sweeps.

So here's how we retrieve it.

Sterling and Lana, you'll be making ingress--

ARCHER: I don't know if we'll have time for that.

LANA: Ugh, not what it means.

MALORY: Through the second-story window.

Cyril, you'll stay on the ground

and monitor the area for reinforcements.

Try not to eat anything important.

This is my last one forever.

You talking to us or the ten bars in your pocket?

Pam and Cheryl,

you'll surveil from the square across the street,

blending in as--

BOTH: [in British accent] Fancy English ladies.

My hat is huge.

You know, we British invented giant hats

as a way to temper an overly aggressive pigeon population.

-Wait. -Oh!

Is that true?

Meanwhile, I'll be in the van with Krieger,

running the entire show with immaculate precision.

Just like the Rockettes. Jazz legs.

MALORY: Once you're in position...

Post coital.

LANA: Post ingress.

-ARCHER: Same thing. -LANA: It's not.

MALORY: Krieger will jam the alarm system.

-What about the bug? -Some of my best work.

Not bad, Mother.

MALORY: I modeled the breasts on my own.

Is it possible for you to just not?

MALORY: And you'll be happy to know,

they're still a dead match.

I was happier before I knew.

So how do we get the code off the bug?

I whipped a little something up.

Sorry, do you have anything bigger?

Dude, this is ancient tech.

It doesn't interface with anything modern.

And the giant flashing lights?

Those are for me.

Got the code.

MALORY: Good. Now rub the center

of my breasts to reactivate.

-What? -MALORY: Sorry,the breasts.

I'm terrified of crossing a societal taboo

that exists for a reason.

Oh, my God.

-MALORY: Was that so hard? -CYRIL: No.

You're not just some sugar-guzzling,

self-flagellater.

You're part of an elite spy team.

Case in point. I've got someone on approach.

He's looking right at me. Now he's waving at me.

And I'm waving back?

Hello.

Oh, I think that went really well.

No, no, no, no, no. Bad news.

What is it?

My jamming of the alarm system is itself being jammed.

-It's a classic double jam! -So the alarm is reactivated?

Sterling, get out of there!

Oh, wait, now he's picking up a rock.

Yep, he's throwing the rock. Oh!

He almost hit that security camera.

And now I'm waving at it. Cheerio.

For once, I feel comfortable saying that wasn't me.

Run, you dimwits!

LANA: Cyril, you were supposed to watch the street,

not your goddamn candy bar!

I was. And I-I didn't.

I put the candy bar away. It was a really big moment.

Well, thanks to you,

our next big moment is British jail,

which is probably pretty nice.

This day was going so--

Characteristically unwell?

-Ow! -Shit, did that hurt?

-Get the suitcase, asshole. -Right, right, yeah. Of course.

Mission update: we failed,

and Lana got punched by some sort of magician.

A suspect has been identified

in the late-night break-in at number 10 Downing Street.

Darling, did you have to look straight on?

Like his profile's any better.

-[laughs] -Malory, please.

It was a mistake any of us could have made.

NEWS ANCHOR: Some speculate that the burglar is American,

due to the American candy wrapper found at the scene.

If the U.S. government is involved,

it would mark the first hostile exchange

between the two countries since the War of 1812.

Does this count as splashy?

Okay, team, no need to panic.

Let's just take stock of where we are.

-Well, the suitcase is gone. -Along with our payday.

Cyril, stop talking about candy bars, you zero.

Wait, I can do better.

The--the Three Musketeers would pay a bounty of 100 grand

to send you to Mars.

Boom, score.

Is no one even gonna snicker at that?

Ugh. Just kill me.

If it wouldn't attract more attention,

I would have already.

Now stand in the corner and look at the ground.

I want options, people.

Well, I did put a tracker on the suitcase.

ALL: What?

I also put a receiver in the tracker

so it can record data from the bug.

So we just bugged the British prime minister?

[laughs] It really is 1812.

Lana and Sterling,

track down the thief and secure the suitcase.

Take Idiot One and Idiot Two as lookouts.

Mummy wants us to go on an outing.

How exciting!

Indubitably.

-A truly professional outfit. -[gasps]

The gentleman's complimented our hats.

Well, this won't get old.

And the lady's a right ol' crank.

-And Cyril? -Yes?

I have a plan for you after all.

LANA: According to Krieger's tracker,

the suitcase-napper is keeping to crowded public spaces.

Suitcase-napper?

What is he, a nursery rhyme villain?

Or whoever. Who do you think he is?

An IIA agent, probably.

Why don't we just save time

and intercept him at their headquarters?

Because, genius,

there's no IIA headquarters in London.

Well, that's inconvenient.

KRIEGER: Hi, guys.

My tracking device tells me he's 300 feet ahead of you.

Time to nap the napper.

See, Lana? See how stupid that sounds?

Pam, Cheryl, do you have eyes?

Neither hide nor hair.

'Tis like an apparition fair.

Miss Cornish, Miss Worcestershire,

your table is ready.

I shall ring if I see him. Ta-ta.

You know, we Brits spike our tea with opium.

That's why it's called "high tea."

-Nuh-uh. -Look it up.

-Wait! -[gasps]

Oh, thanks.

These wretched servants come out of nowhere!

I think Mother's right about cutting their salaries.

Whatever. It can't be that hard

to spot a Black guy in an English crowd.

Damn it, London's actually really diverse.

Wait, there. Krieger, I've got him in sight.

Stand by for apprehension.

Archer, I'll cross, you cover. Archer?

Look, Lana, British tchotchkes.

Oh, will you pay attention?

I can pay attention and shop.

Two pounds? You wish. Actually, is that a lot?

I'm not clear on the exchange rate.

I found the guy.

-Where? -What the--

Man, this guy's like Houdini.

Meaning he hopped in a cab while you weren't looking?

While you weren't looking.

I was looking--at tchotchkes.

You aren't going to turn me into fertilizer, are you?

Please, your candy-infused blood

would kill anything it came in contact with.

Ouch, but point taken.

What's with all these overly decorative pests?

You mean butterflies?

Kill them as caterpillars, I say.

So we aren't here to murder me,

and we're clearly not here to enjoy this beautiful garden.

So what are we doing?

We're meeting Cornelius Varma.

The beefcake from 50 years ago?

The ultimate agent.

He'll fix your mess

and then maybe make a mess out of me.

Eesh.

[gasps] Malory!

Brilliant of you to come.

I think I need to talk to your son.

-Maybe grandson? -[laughs]

Poppet, come on, it's me.

Your beefcake turned into beef jerky.

Oh, eat a gumdrop.

CHERYL: That there's the raven master.

Legend has it that if the ravens ever leave this tower,

the British Empire will crumble.

Heavens to Murgatroyd. What a frightful thought.

Hey! What the--

-Take that, you wankers! -The hell?

The ravens are androids.

Guards!

Wait!

'Tis a dangerous country.

[normal voice] What are we supposed to be doing?

Pick up the phone. [sighs] Pam's not answering.

More bad news:

the shop wouldn't exchange the keychain you broke.

More, more bad news: the suitcase is on the move.

Oh, bill me.

Can I also bill you for a memory?

Because this one is ruined.

'Ello, 'ello.

What modeling agency

might I be dropping you off at, love?

[laughs] Oh, you're too kind.

-It's actually a porn shoot. -Bugger me.

That's actually the title of the porno.

Our friend will direct you to the studio.

KRIEGER: Howdy, howdy.

Careful, he might think you're fun.

I am fun.

-Ha! -Oh, "ha" what?

She grumbled, not understanding

the sound of human laughter.

What are you talking about?

It's, like, rule number one of our group dynamic, Lana,

that you're not and have never been fun.

No, rule number one is, "Don't tell Pam a secret."

Fine. Rule number two then.

-Are we close? -KRIEGER: Nope.

And here we are.

Wheat germ sandwiches and decaffeinated tea--

good for the sciatica.

Cornelius, we're on a bit of a schedule.

My intelligence said you were still an active agent.

Wrong on both counts, I'm afraid.

Bad knee and bad business, ever since IIA took over.

How are you faring?

-Thriving. -We're broke.

You want my advice?

Make a deal with IIA,

pocket a few quid for bugging the prime minister,

and retire.

Close down?

Like some pathetic independent bookstore?

It's less dreadful than you may think.

We're both getting old, poppet.

And they can pry my agency

from my dead, grenade-holding fingers.

Ah, you sound very American.

I sound like you used to.

Remember why we got into this?

To bring down the powerful.

No one could afford not to be afraid of us.

And in that way, we were truly free.

Hmm. [chuckles]

You haven't changed a bit.

-And I never intend to. -Very well, then.

I'll contact my people

to see if we can dig up anything on your IIA agent.

But, Mal, I'd like you to do something for me in return.

Fine, but keep it over the shirt.

LANA: That's your example of me not being fun?

Oh, I have more.

Like the time you made me change two diapers in one day.

For your own child.

And then there was the time you made me

not sleep with that diplomat's wife.

And the time you made me not sleep with that czar's wife.

And the time you made me not sleep with--

LANA: These are examples of you being a dick.

ARCHER: And, frankly, Lana, you responded poorly,

because you're no fun.

Well, what about the time in Sicily

when we got pegged as agents,

and I roundhouse kicked a bouncer in the face?

-How is that fun? -I was wearing kitten heels.

Krieger, are we getting close?

Oh, God, no.

The target is at the British Library.

What? That's, like, two miles away.

-How is he moving so fast? -KRIEGER: On the plus side,

it looks like Cheryl and Pam are right on top of him.

CHERYL: You can't hide your secrets forever.

I know about the magic books, I does!

Damn, you're heavy for a skinny girl.

LANA: Pam, the target is running right past you.

-Who? -ARCHER: The spy, Pam.

With the suitcase.

Literally the reason we're in London.

Oh, right. Yeah, I-I don't see anybody.

LANA: How can that be?

And how is he covering ground so fast?

This city is packed.

Through the secret escape tunnels

in the British sewers.

Ugh, why don't you Americans know anything?

LANA: Huh. Does she know what she's talking about?

I truly have no idea.

Ugh, so, how far do we walk through human feces

before we decide this isn't a secret escape tunnel?

Bermuda! Ha!

Not sure this sewer is transatlantic.

No. My proof that I'm fun.

15 years ago in Bermuda.

Oh. You mean Bermuda, Bermuda?

Like, back when we were first together?

We were on that stakeout,

and it was taking a really long time.

By the river. I was fun with you four times.

Then two more times in the river.

Sploosh and bam.

-Nope, doesn't count. -Oh? Why not?

Because you never did it again.

And now you've depressed me by making me remember,

actively sucking the fun away.

And that's the last active sucking you'll ever get.

-Phrasing. -Obviously!

MALORY: Everyone, our man is approaching the London Eye.

[laughs] Look out, Old Blighty!

Cornelius Varma is coming for one last hoorah.

ARCHER: Okay, to catch this guy,

I say we surface to the street, hijack a speedboat,

and joyride through the River Thames.

Or we just keep moving this way, which would be ten times faster.

See? No fun.

KRIEGER: Oh, God, of course this happens

when I'm in a van without bazookas.

Take a left at the corner.

There's an open alley we can fit through.

No, they shuttered that ages ago.

The only way through London at this hour

is the chockablock route.

The chockablock route? We nearly died last time.

Since when are you afraid of a little danger?

-We'll need a bike. -[motorcycle engine roars]

Seems I've secured one.

Oh, Cornelius.

-Do you think they're going to-- -Yep.

There--wait. Why would he get on a Ferris wheel?

Wow, you're really not getting this "fun" thing.

I mean it's a dead end, you dick.

Shit. Not if you have a helicopter.

Everybody get here. Now.

Yes, ma'am.

Go where? It's bumper to bumper.

Then I guess the bumper is coming with us.

-CYRIL: Ah! -Ah!

Upshift! Upshift!

Damn it, woman! Would you like to drive?

I thought you'd never ask.

It's okay! We're Americans.

-[screams] -CYRIL: Whoa, whoa, whoa!

-Tchotchkes! -I see them.

I meant avoid them.

[chuckles] Oops.

Next time.

Damn, this guy's good at climbing Ferris wheels.

Where is everyone?

[panting] We made it!

My sincerest apologies.

Remember that time we were scouting

that iron-ore mine in Madagascar

and you told me not to swallow ferromagnetic flakes?

Archer, it's not the time.

Always the time, Lana,

because if I had listened to you then--

You wouldn't have projectile-vomited chunks

that stuck to the break room fridge

so they had to throw the whole thing away?

Well, yeah, that.

And, also, I wouldn't have the idea to do this.

Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

I am the magnet master!

North and south polarities are mine to command.

Be careful.

MAN: Yeah, Archer. Listen to Mummy.

Fabian?

FABIAN: You really haven't changed the frequency

of your comms after I broke into them last time?

Top-notch spy craft there.

How's this for spy craft? [grunts]

FABIAN: I would say, not great.

And I would say, shut up.

Archer! The helicopter!

Backup would be nice anytime.

Pam? Cheryl?

I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing,

but I think you own a rugby team now.

Whoo-hoo! Long live the zombie king!

Got to admit, this was way more fun

than acting like normal tourists.

[normal voice] You know, tourism was developed by the British

to drum up support for the expansion

of an increasingly destructive empire.

Its violent, cannibalistic success

is basically the reason the world will end in 50 years.

Bullshit.

[British accent] See you boys on the pitch

or court or whatever.

-PAM: Wait! -I know.

-Traffic's on the right. -[tires screech]

-[grunts] -CYRIL: Sorry!

MAN: Ah!

I can't help but notice that your team

is not as polished as we used to be.

Eh, you work with the people you can get.

Archer! Jump!

Sorry, mind if I use you for something?

Lana!

Now, that's splashy.

Wait, wait, wait, what about, "How's that for a splash?"

You know what?

-Whoops. -I could have died.

How did you know I'd react in time?

I didn't.

[chuckles] You arefun.

Well, thank you, Max Eisenhardt.

Hey, call me Magneto.

Krieger, what's the chatter in Parliament?

They're blaming the incident on the IIA.

Cornelius gave them a photo of an employee

who looks exactly like Cyril.

Oh, who's the unlucky handsome devil?

This guy doesn't look like me.

He's just dough-faced and depressed.

Sounds like they nailed it.

So what are you we going to do with the bug now?

Sell it to the highest bidder?

I'm holding on to it.

You never know when you'll need to knock

the powerful down a peg.

Wow, Mother.

I thought the only principles you stuck to were dry martinis

and never tipping the help.

Apparently I have a third.

That's strangely nice.

But why was Cornelius

so willing to put his life on the line for us?

Exactly how close were you two?

Let's just say he knows his way around a catsuit.

And let's not say anything else.

Uh, is that zinc oxide in your cleavage?

Yes. That's from a boating trip.

Stop. Don't say it.

A motorboating trip.

Still got it.

Made in Georgia.

Captioned by Captionmax

My name's Archer.

I'm an egomaniac who endangers every mission.

Also I'm inebriated almost 24 hours a day.

Lose the "almost" and then take it again.

Go!

It's easy to be bad

It's hard to be a warrior with dignity.

-[intercom beeps] -WOMAN: Mr. President, Ms. Lewinsky's here to see you.

WOMAN: There's been an event...

-[people shouting] - ...the world over.

Everywhere. They're gone.

-WOMAN 2: I-I just can't... -[chittering]

...make sense of it.

How did he survive?

Why him?