Original subtitles

I don't wanna...

Woodhouse, you sneaky old fiend.

Happy birthday, sir.

Thanks, Woodhouse. This is amazing. Seriously, you outdid yourself.

That's not all, sir.

Uh, sorry about that, sir.

It's okay. I'll wait while you make me a new birthday breakfast not covered in garbage.

It's not garbage, sir, it's...

Scraps of paper, Woodhouse, which, by definition, yes, is garbage.

Afraid I don't have the ingredients to recreate this exact breakfast, sir.

Okay, then make Nutella waffles.

Damn it. Nutella steak and eggs?

Today's my shopping day.

Why do you even bother...

...living?

No time to talk, Popeye. It's my birthday.

Were you gonna say happy birthday? Don't bother. Happy birthday to me.

Mm-hm.

I wonder what the guys at the office have planned for my birthday.

Wonder if Fudgie The Whale will be there. Or Cookie Puss. Heh, heh.

Cookie Puss. Those guys at Carvel know what they're doing.

Paging Dr. Boy, Dr. Birthday Boy.

So, what are you ladies up to? Cleaning out the stupid file room.

Yeah? Any particular reason? Uh, it's full of shit?

Speaking of, is that Archer?

Yes, but I have to warn you...

...I don't like surprises?

Or doing your share of work, apparently. Who likes that?

You'd better start, because a lot of this junk is yours. Now get to work.

Are you serious? On my...?

Your what? My never mind.

Because there's nothing special about today whatsoever, Mother.

Oh, I wouldn't say that.

Uh... Wait, really?

Yes, it's the quarterly fire drill.

Let's go, people. Get the lead out.

Ferris Bueller, you're my hero.

Shut up. Hang on, does nobody seriously know what today is?

Tuesday? The Rapture?

Come on, people. Look alive.

I never remember it taking so long.

Maybe that's because you never remember anything. So...

Oh, my God.

Surprise.

I... Is that...? What...? Mother?

Happy birthday, dear.

I...

Ow.

I think.

Oh, I can feel it.

I can feel your power.

What's that? You want me inside you?

Sterling.

You know my name? Sterling!

Hm? Oh. Oh, sorry.

I believe a "thank you" is in order.

Mother, oh, my God. Yes, thank you.

And not just... Well, mostly me, of course, but Dr. Krieger helped too.

Well, only if by "helped" you mean...

...oversaw the design of the world's most insanely kick-ass spy car.

It's a spy car? Lana?

- Lana, no. - Oh, my God.

Holy shit.

Yeah, I'm like a magnet.

Brett, shut up. What else does it do?

Press that red button? - I...

Wait, is it gonna kill everybody?

Press that blue button?

Welcome, Mr. Archer...

It does know my name.

...to the Dodge Challenger, Special Agent Edition, brought to you by Dodge.

Thanks, Dodge!

Featuring a 440 V-8 engine, six-speed manual transmission...

...and a top speed of 185.

Heavy-duty suspension, run-flat tires...

...bulletproof body panels and windows...

...twin.30 cal machine guns mounted in the front...

...anti-pursuit countermeasures in the rear.

It makes the Mach 5 look like a vagina.

The interior boasts mil-spec GPS...

...satellite communications, hi-fi stereo...

...rich Corinthian leather.

Corinth is famous for its leather.

And, of course...

Bar is to be stocked with non-alcoholic beverages.

Dodge cannot stress this enough. Never drink and drive.

Now, Sterling, listen to me.

It's like seeing the face of God.

Sterling. This car cost me a lot of money.

So you have to take proper care of it. I will.

And if you crash it... I won't.

Or, God forbid, if you get it stolen... I won't.

...you won't ever get another one.

Mother, I promise, I'll take the best care of it of anything ever.

You'd better.

Well, come on. Give your mom a hug.

Oh, no, I don't think that's really...

Possible.

Um, at all. Why not?

Um... Oh, God. He's got an erection.

Shotgun. Me too.

Sorry, it's this Corinthian leather.

In my new Dodge Challenger!

Ahem. I forgot to close the bar.

In my new Dodge Challenger!

Wow, so how much did Dodge kick in?

Not as much as you'd think.

So I hope this doesn't sound weird...

...but I kind of wanna have sex with you. Is that all right?

Oh! Seriously, Dodge? Apple juice?

Not you, the car, obviously...

...but the blond genie woman who lives inside you that talks.

So, what do I call you?

Hello? Jeannie? It's me, master.

Wait a minute, was that just a lame pre-recorded video?

Or are you pouting for some reason?

Fine, then pout.

But that totally wasn't my fault.

You shouldn't even be able to put the car in gear with the bar open.

Besides the danger of drunk driving, it's obviously a huge design flaw.

Which is why now you're all sticky.

Which, I'm sorry for that.

Once we get you parked, I'll clean you up and wipe you down with a fine chamois.

And also quit talking to you, because now I'm pretty sure that was just a recording.

I mean, it was, right?

Whatever. Either way, I'm done talking.

Oh, come on, it's full?

Damn it. Guess I'll have to park on the street.

If you get it stolen, you won't ever get another one.

I heard you, Mother. Somehow.

Ooh.

Hi, neighbor.

The grappling hook detaches from my end?

Way to think it through, Dodge.

So clean all the broken glass and the sticky apple juice...

...then I need all new glassware, some real liquor.

Um, oh. There's a grappling hook in the street, get that, and then find out where to buy caltrops.

Caltrops?

Yeah, caltrops. Try, maybe, area-denial-weapons.Com.

Very good, sir.

Oh, did you decide to start talking to me?

Nothing, Woodhouse. What do you want?

Ugh. It's black, powerful, sexy.

Like if Ron O'Neal was a car.

What?

No.

No, no, no.

No!

No, no, no.

Sir? What are you...?

I thought maybe she had some sort of cloaking device.

No, then I'd be standing in it.

You. What'd you do with Jeannie?

Steady on, sir.

I swear to God, I'll scoop out whatever organs you have left and...

Sorry, sir, you were going all Bilbo-y.

I'm sorry.

Woodhouse, can I see that can for a sec? No, sir.

I just wanted to read the warning label about "in case of eye contact."

You did not. You were going to spray me in the eyes.

Heh, heh. I totally was.

Oh, my God. Okay, I gotta think.

Would you stop? They look pretty bad, sir.

Really? Because they feel great.

Okay, so obviously Jeannie was stolen, and who steals cars, Woodhouse?

Gyppos.

Car thieves. And this was obviously a ring of very high-end car thieves.

So now I have to go undercover in the high-end car-thief whatever, underworld...

...and steal Jeannie back. Sounds dangerous, sir.

Not nearly as dangerous as Mother finding out I lost my birthday present.

Sterling. Yes, Mother?

Where is your new bicycle?

That's what I thought.

And you let her do it. I...

I'm kidding. You couldn't have stopped her. She would've snapped your spine.

I mean, you're just tiny.

Lana. What do you know, what do you say?

I know you're about to ask me for a favor, and I say, wait for it...

- I... - Wait.

Was that even a twist-off? No.

Yikes. Is my answer to your favor.

I don't care what it is. The answer's no.

Somebody stole my birthday car.

Okay, I'm gonna drink some of this and then I'm gonna do a huge spit take on you.

What the shit, Lana? I told you I was gonna do it.

Right, sorry, guess I'm a bad listener.

Obviously. Malory told you not to let that stupid car get stolen.

Thank you, world's loudest voice. Now shut up.

For reasons that don't bear going into, I have to get it back before Mother finds out.

Ugh. Okay, I'll help you. To do... Wait, what am I helping you to do?

Infiltrate whatever criminal outfit steals the hottest cars in the city.

That would be the yakuza.

What?

And, man, against those pinkieless bastards, you had better come correct.

And you know this how, exactly?

Homies.

Hang on, hang on...

You race drift cars?

Crappily. Oh, for...

Is anybody not in here?

I'm not crappy. I just started.

Shut up. When's the next race? And we're gonna pose as your pit crew.

It's tonight. And I don't know.

If the yakuza finds out you're snooping around about a hot set of wheels...

Don't worry about me, I'm...

Not going on another stupid rampage.

Well, maybe a limited rampage. No.

Modified limited rampage? Archer.

Don't worry about my methods. The important thing is that nobody tells...

Mother.

Tell me what?

What? What.

What are we doing? I shouldn't even be in here. And neither should you, Pam.

Why aren't you out in your new car? Because Woodhouse is detailing it.

Because that's the high level of care that I am taking of it.

You better be.

Wow, dodged a bullet there, huh?

Figuratively. And you had better hope we don't have to dodge any literally.

Well, obviously I hope that.

I am not super-confident about this.

Join the club. I don't even know why I'm here.

Join that club. Then shut up and act like you know what you're doing.

I don't know anything about cars.

I meant as an agent. Zing.

Okay, Pam, who's the big cheesy-san around here?

That would be Mr. Moto, he's...

Crapjacks, he's coming over here.

So, shiro kabocha...

...you are back. Hai, Moto-san.

And, again, just really sorry about your nephew.

He knew the risk.

But I do not know these people.

Sorry. Hi, I'm Randy, crew leader, and...

Why does this underling speak to me?

"Underling"?

Randy, don't. Listen here, Moto, I...

Uh... Right in the head and ass.

Unh... Let that be a lesson to you.

Aw, man, I just totally lost face.

Ha, ha. Join that club.

So you rethinking that rampage?

I am, actually.

Ew. Gross.

- Then can we please get out of here? - Absolutely.

Right after I get my car. Jeezy Petes.

No wonder it was running rough. Archer, don't...

Now which one of you pussies has it?

So just a heads up, I'm starting the rampage now.

No kidding.

Mm...

No.

I am so angry at you right now.

You? Look at them. They're furious.

One question before you die.

Shoot. Figuratively.

My question is this:

What are you doing?

What? Nothing.

Uh-huh. Have you seen Sterling? What, like ever?

Tonight, now.

He's supposed to meet me at 21 for his stupid birthday dinner, but he's not answering...

Hello?

Mother? Hi, listen, I can't really talk right now, can I call you back?

Or are you pouting for some...? Oh, crap, are you already at 21?

Sorry, I'm running late, so go ahead and order me four martinis and...

Sterling Malory Archer, you inconsiderate little...

Whoa!

Birthday voicemail, Mother. I gotcha, heh, heh, heh.

But seriously, I bet I will be late, so go ahead and pull the trigger on those martinis.

What kind of ass would be late for his own birthday dinner?

The kind who'd infiltrate the yakuza?

What? Nothing. What? Nothing.

Carol. No.

Answer me. No, I've said too much alrea...

Jeez. Ow!

You got another one in you? Answer me.

And that, guys, I guess, is a pretty long answer...

...to why I'd go on a suicide mission to get back my birthday car.

Because of a stupid bicycle?

What part of "five-speed Schwinn Sting-Ray" are you not getting?

Are you...? And I am being serious here. Are you insane?

Maybe some mild post-traumatic stress disorder, but...

But he drinks a lot, so...

So I think I've got a pretty good handle on it.

We don't even have your damn car. We steal drift cars.

Imports only.

Right-hand drive. Duh.

Heh, okay, okay. And why would I believe you?

Why would I lie? Either way we're going to kill you.

Oh. Oh, right.

And if they don't, I'm going to.

How is this my fault?

This is all my fault.

I should've never gotten him that car. It's that damn bicycle all over again.

And who the hell taught you how to drive?

This guy I know named my dead father.

Oh, I, uh...

Yeah. I bet you feel like a dick.

No, because, look, if this whole thing is anybody's fault, it's...

Pam, what are you doing? What? Nothing.

- Oh, shit. - Damn it.

Fire.

Where are you going? How should I know?

Can't see shit, my car's shot to shit, and I only had three shitty payments...

Left!

What? Go left, dumbass.

To the cars.

Move the damn hood.

Okay, hang on.

- Jesus. - How's that?

Pam, if you do that again... What are you gonna do, shoot my car?

Lana's doing it too. No, she's...

Goddamn it. Sorry.

Are you? Cyril, here, make yourself useful.

I... No. You know what? No. What?

No. The way I see it, we're the bad guys here.

They're the yakuza. Who were minding their own business.

Of white slavery. Don't qualify it.

And stealing cars.

Not yours. Well, maybe not, but...

But you come in here, guns blazing, half-cocked, and probably half-drunk...

It's my birthday. Well, happy fricking birthday.

Thank you. Finally, somebody acknowledges my birthday.

Shut up, because now we're gonna die.

Not if shiro kabocha can help it.

- Whoa! - Oh, God!

Whoa. Wow, Pam, you're actually pretty badass at this.

Duh. Why do you think they call me shiro kabocha?

Yeah, what does that mean, anyway?

The white shadow.

No, it doesn't.

It means "white pumpkin."

Aw, honey.

Oh, yeah? Well, I got your pumpkin hanging. Ew.

You used-panty-vending sons of bitches.

Shiro kabocha, this is not over.

We'll see about that. Gun, give me. No, honey, let's just...

Shut up, give me the gun. No.

Give it. No. You're agitated.

No shit I'm agitated, look at my car.

At least you have one.

Thanks to you we wasted all night dicking around with the yakuza...

...and I still don't know who stole my fricking...

Mother. Sterling Malory Archer.

What are you doing here? Did you not hear my outgoing voicemail?

Did you not hear me tell you not to let your brand-new car get stolen?

Thanks a lot, blabbermouth. She beat it out of me.

Rowrr. Oh, stop it.

But, no, you didn't listen to me. And then you lied to me.

And then you almost got everyone killed, and...

Almost, nothing.

I'll kill you all right now.

Do you mind? I'm trying to parent.

That was for Pearl Harbor.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes, and all because you're irresponsible.

No, I'm... Well, not with the car.

Are you...? Sterling, you left it unlocked in an unattended garage.

I don't, um...

She took it. What?

Well, not me personally, I... Why would you do that?

To teach you a lesson. About what?

Life. Just like with that damn bicycle when you were 8 years old.

I don't, um...

She took it.

You stole my bike?

I came home from work, it was just lying on the sidewalk.

And I thought, "Oh, well, this will teach him."

Sting-Ray, five-speed.

But so did you talk to him about responsibility when you gave it back?

Gave it back? Wow.

You're disgusting. What kind of a lesson would that be?

Banana saddle, sissy bar.

- Oh, my God. So, what about his car? - Jeannie.

Mm, I'm afraid it already has a new owner.

Aw, yeah, that's what I'm talking about.

Thanks, Dodge, or whoever.

Yes, my ass is everywhere.

What are you looking at, sucker?