All language subtitles for Archer.S04E08.Coyote.Lovely.1080p.Blu-ray.DD5.1.x264-CtrlHDArcher.eng

Now, tell me exactly what happened.

You, through some shady deal
with the Border Patrol...

...sent us to South Texas
to capture an individual named Moreno.

Mexico's most notorious coyote.

Which is Espanol for people smuggler.

Thanks, thaws--
And also for coyote, it turns out.

Archer-
It's a loanword. Or is it a calque?

Why do you always do this?
Because I'm always bored.

Is he--? Ugh, this is
totally nerve-racking.

How are you bored?

Don't engage him. I've been lying
in scorpion piss for two hours...

...in the sunblasted shithole
which is Texas...

...waiting for a stupid truck
stuffed with smallish brown people...

...who just want a job.

- And probably Mexican cartel gunmen.
- What'd I just say?

Big whoop, I'm spooning a Barrett .50 cal.
I could kill a building.

Just put one through the engine block
when the truck has to stop.

Please.

This is what he does.

He knows we're tense
because we're normal human beings.

My theory, and I'm serious...

...is that he's got some kind of
pervasive developmental disorder...

...or even undiagnosed atypical autism.

Um, your mike's hot.
I know.

Wow.
Well, here comes the truck, so--

Okay, we're in position.

Great, so after we catch him,
you can intentionally hurt his feelings.

Okay, first of all--
Hey, can I hold the fake baby?

God. Will you man up,
Kimmy Kevlar?

Here we go.

Archer, you ready?

Hang on, Lana, I'm stacking rocks
in order of descending size.

See? Right there, that's--

Hi, yeah, we broke down and, uh--

Hey! Don't run over us,
we have a baby!

Oops.

Arched
Not talking to you.

I can do this all day!

Since I find repetitive behavior
so calming!

Jesus Christ, I'm sorry!

Ow! Apologize to my tinnitus.

Now, hands up, Moreno! It's over!

What are you--? That's not Moreno.

I am Moreno.

Whoa.

Moreno is a woman.

No shit.

I don't understand.

If Moreno had surrendered,
how did it go so wrong?

Uh, well, kind of slowly, at first.

I said slowly.

Whoa, hey, ladies, come on.
I know the adrenaline's still pumping...

...but let's, you know,
deescalate the situation.

- Oh, for-- Deescalate your dick.
De--

Wait. I mean,
escalate shutting up.

Wait, how did you--?
Lana, Mexico gets the news.

I think, do you guys,
um, las noticias--?

Well, here's some news,
now this is happening.

I actually have some thoughts on that.
No, you--

Do, and those thoughts are
how about we let senor...ita--?

Awesome.
Senorita Moreno go with a stern warning...

...if she promises never to do this again,
maybe over a drink?

Oh, shit, I forgot there's people in there.
Cyril, open the door, idiot.

Do not push me, Archer.
And do not open that door!

But come on, they gotta be roasting.

Well, I'm sorry, but if we let them out,
then, boom, they scatter.

Ha-ha-ha. To where?

Uh, our overburdened health care system?

Ooh, or maybe our tax-funded
government schools...

...for which, spoiler ahead,
they don't pay taxes.

How is a Lorax-blowing tree hugger
like you anti-immigration?

Because illegal immigration--
Exactly.

I mean, it's not like your ancestors,
you know, had papers.

Wow.
Yeah. Cyril, I said open the door.

And I said don't push me!

And then very, very suddenly.

Because I couldn't hear you
over the sound of now I'm punching you!

Damn it, Archer, let him--
Oops.

Lana! Have you lost your mind?

No, just my temper.

Now, open the goddamn door.

And, Senorita Moreno, you are free to go.

Although the appropriate thing
would be to buy me a thank-you drink.

Um...
What are you doing?

What are you doing?
You almost killed Lana.

No, see? She's fine.

She's not fine.
She's at least got a concussion.

So? You get like six freebies.
No, you don't!

Yes, you do, Cyril. Now put it down.

You put it down. It's over.

We are turning Moreno over to the Border
Patrol and taking Lana to a hospital.

Can't let you do that.

The first part.
Hospital is probably a good idea.

We'll see what your mother has to say
about it.

Do not call her. I swear to God, I'll--

Wait, hang on, are you wearing Kevlar?

Yeah, because I'm not an id-- Oh, no.

Sorry, I know that hurt.

Uh...
There, just like The Defiant Ones.

Now, then, I believe there was some mention
of a thank-you drink?

So just so I'm clear,
you expect me to believe...

...that Sterling beat both of you up
then shot Cyril?

Uh...
Come on, for some haggard Mexican?

I wouldn't really describe her as haggard.
I would.

Of course you would.
But-- Shut up.

--Tempers were kind of high
about the illegals in the truck.

Oh, who cares about them?
Not Lana.

Still, though, it doesn't--

Do you mind?

Yeah, it's the most stupidest boring job
in the whole stupid boring world!

But you insist that we do it.

Not right this second!

Uh, remind me, Pam, when did Ms. Archer say
she wanted us to shred this crap?

You did say right this second.

I said it on Tuesday!

Well?
Well what?

I actually don't have a follow-up.

Speaking of, I bet a Mexican would do this
for a buck an hour.

Those documents are top secret.

You let Pam do it.

Okay, dicknuts, I'm just saying they work
hard as hell, and they work cheap.

Cheap because they don't pay taxes.
Thank you.

And when did you work with Mexicans?
Where do you think milk comes from?

How's it hanging, Jorge?
Bien, Ms. Pam.

How are you?

Yeah, I think you're ready.

Milk comes from Mexicans?

Oh, my God, what's cereal made from?

Thank you.
Labor of love.

Well? Then what?
I suppose next you'll tell me...

...Sterling drove off in the truck
with this Mexican woman?

Uh, no.
Because if you will recall...

...Archer shot out the engine block.

And I don't think she was the only one
he drove off with.

So where did they all go?
And how?

Who the hell knows where?

Although we do have a working theory
on how.

Hey, I'm serious,
if I have to pull this car over...

...you will regret it!

So share the goddamn Doritos!

Yeah, looking right at you, Lupe.

- You want me to look for what?
- A station wagon.

Clean the impending massive heart attack
out of your ears.

A station wagon. In all of Texas?

Yeah, or Arizona,
Mexico, New Mexico.

Oh, my God.
You just got that.

Okay, but that's gonna be
kind of a needle in a--

- Hey, is that it?
- Where?

- No, that's not it.
- Is that it'?

Is that it?
Oh, is that it? Or is it that?

Is that it? Is that it?

All right, point--
Wait, wait, wait.

Is that it?
Point taken!

Hey, you know what?

Swear to God, you people make me
wanna pump nerve gas through the vents.

Just say the word.
Krieger! No! Or nein or whatever.

And how the hell is this our fault?

She slapped you so hard, you died.

No, I think I'm really dying.

I know.

Hey, there's Archer.

Oh, God!

Whoever that was, I'm serious,
I'm pretty sure you've got Giardia.

I'm serious, please, thank you,
but we need to get back into Mexico.

What the hell kind of plan is this?

I don't know if I'd call it a plan.
No one would.

We can't drive around Texas.
What about the Border Patrol?

The what?

What in the hell?

Ten-eighty. We got a 10-80.

Neat.

Will you--? I'm really starting
to regret helping you.

Well, this is the opposite of help!

Which no one asked you for anyway.

That's what makes it so noble!

Goddamn it!

Chuy, I don't have autism!

I thought if I let you go,
you'd at least blow me.

You think I'm some kind of a whore?

No, but-- Chuy, back me up here,
was there not, like, a cock-hungry vibe?

Ugh!
Driver. Driver! Driver!

Hey, guys. How are you?

Can you escort us to a hospital?

I bet at least three of these women
are about to give birth.

Okay, okay, I'm pulling over.

We're 10-50! We're--

What the shit?

Who did that?

Oh, plus, you are just
covered in polvo Dorito.

Diés mio, don't kill them.

What? God, what kind of person
do you think I am?

I really think you might be insane.

That was more of a rhetorical--

But I also think that
you make a big risk...

...to help some poor people who just
want a better life for their family.

And that, to me, is muy admirable.

See? I knew you wanted to blow--

Sorry, that was inappropriate.

Although so was the response.

Drop the weapon! Drop it!

- Here.
- You are crazy.

They'll kill us.
Uh-uh. Empty.

Wh--?
- Last warning!

Those are .357 Ruger Sixes.

They each fired six.
How did you count them?

I'm just super good at that.

Oh, my God, maybe I am autistic. Ow.

Okay, you dirty-ass beaner, that's it.

Oh, I'm sorry,
I couldn't hear you over the sound of...

Urn, if I could I'd
like to take this

opportunity to apologize
for that racial slur.

What about the racial profiling, huh?
Whatever happened to the probable cause?

Our probable cause is the border.

Which we protect from terrorists?

Look, we're just doing our job here.

Shittily. Two-for-12 at that distance? Ugh.

Although, two does seem like plenty.

Really? You learn that in med school?

But quit hogging the beads.
I'm sure Marisol and Paz wanna pray.

And these people aren't--

I mean, not to sound racist,
but we all know who the terrorists are.

Lupe. Come on, you're in America now,
you just imply it.

Hey, let us go.

You got our first aid kit,
the radio out of the truck...

...so you can monitor the police band--
And not to sound racist again...

...but how many Mexicans does it take
to hook up a car stereo?

- Hey!
- Well?

Well what?

Don't actually have a follow-up.
But seriously, Chuy, qué the hell pasa?

I don't know, the police band is working,
but now the eight-track is:

Why would we need the eight-track?

Oh, my God, that can't be good.

We go to the hospital now!
You two, get your ass off the car!

You can't just leave us here.

We're 20 miles away from our last call-in.

We'll die out here.

Oh, goddamn it.

I'm, uh, actually gonna take that back.

I'm glad you took the time to fix it.

Eight-track was the way to go.

Oh, God.

What do you mean, "Way to go"?
Which you clearly said sarcastically.

I mean, thanks to you...

...now there might not be
any reward money...

...which I had earmarked
for vital operations.

You were gonna redo your office.

Picture it all sort of pan-Asian mod
and the carpet just a sea of white.

But now I'm stuck with cat-puke green
because you couldn't control Sterling.

Since when is babysitting Archer my jo--?
Oh, my God, that's exactly my job.

Which, to belabor the point,
you failed.

Now he's run off with this old
Mexican woman to who knows where.

Ew.
Put a shirt on. What is wrong with you?

Archer is what
is wrong with me.

And not that I care at all,
but have you tried calling him?

Please,
with those idiot voicemails?

Ugh. Although it couldn't hurt.

Hang on, I should get that.

- Now? Really?
- Trust me, if you knew my mother.

Please, if you knew mine.

But you should not be talking right now.

And he really shouldn't be drinking.

Oh, really? You learn that in med school?

That you obviously didn't get into?

I'm sorry, veterinarian,
I'm in a lot of pain.

I don't even know how you're alive.

Well, I'm very strong and also very drunk.

Which, paging Dr. D.T. McShakyhands.

Seriously, get your shit together.

Mother. Listen, I'm sorry, I take...

...equal responsibility with Lana.
Wh--?

But-- Ow! Come on, Katy Hepburn!

The stupid Border Patrol shot me twice,
and I could really use a medevac chopper.

I'm kind of near-- Hey, guys, where are--?

Goddamn it, man, pace yourself!

See?
They just get more and more elaborate...

...and then it's, ha-ha, beep,
and then somehow Pm the idiot.

What? No, no, no, Mother,
this isn't a voice-mail.

Well, I'm sure there's a lesson in there
somewhere, but-- Ow!

That ought to do it.

And to you, doctor.
You truly have the gift of healing.

Boy, I wish you'd tell that
to the licensing board.

You don't even have a vet license?

Thanks to one petty local politician.

And one petty barn full of dead horses.

Will you shut up and stitch me up?

Although if that wasn't a prank,
and the Border Patrol did shoot him--

Inappropriate.

Oh, he just has to ruin everything.

Yeah, so watch out for dehydration.

Thank you, doctor, we will.

And also for internal bleeding.

We will.
And sepsis.

We--
And MRSA.

Probably not a bad idea
to get him tested...

- ...for feline AIDS.
- We get it!

Now, can we go already?

He said in agony...

...because the unlicensed vet
drank all his tequila.

Now go!

Thank you, doctor.
Don't thank me.

Seriously,
I probably did more harm than good.

So if there's any way to get to one,
a medevac chopper wouldn't kill him.

Unless he got flung up
into the blades somehow.

Yeah, that'd do it.

That will do, thank you.

L-- Wait, but two
Border Patrol agents are missing...

...Archer's missing,
and you want us to do nothing?

Yes, just like you've done up to now.

Malory, we--
But thank you both for all that you did do.

Which, again, was nothing.

Nothing? I got shot.

Any idiot can get shot, Cyril.

Ask Brett!

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I need to make some calls...

...to see if I can get
my son out of this mess.

How's it hanging, Grimace?
Ow!

Why?

Why is the A.C. on?

That's not the A.C., it's the heat.

Then why is it so cold?

Really doubt I'm going to heaven.

Well, dying--
No, he's not!

Well, you say that...

We'll never make it in time
in this crappy car.

You need a helicopter.

Yeah, I don't know if you heard,
but I don't have access to a helicopter.

They do.

Come on, we're in enough trouble already.

- With who?
- Damn it.

You call headquarters,
you say an innocent Amer--

Republican was shot in a gunfight
with some illegals.

Wh--? No, that'll just make you people
look worse.

No, not worse as in-- Okay, screw you guys,
you know what I meant.

But if they call this in, you'll--
We will be far away by then.

And besides, what kind of car
will the Border Patrol be looking for?

A ridiculous low-rider truck
with fender flares and louvers and shit?

And so, Mr. Archer,
I'm afraid for us, this is adiés.

Adiés? Not hasta pronto or--?

Huh. So, uh, I'm guessing
that's a no posible on the blowjob?

Well, if that ain't a big load of shit.
Turns out he's some kind of spook.

Dude, phrasing.

He's right here.

Hey. Don't listen to him,
you're beautiful.

As is whatever you're doing
with the morphine-wise.

Keep that coming.
That was my boss's boss's boss.

He says your ass gets total immunity.
Ha-ha-ha.

For helping the most notorious coyote
in todo Mexico, Mercedes Moreno?

Mercedes?
Vroom!

Shit, she must be her daughter.

Wait, whose daughter?

Maria Moreno, dumb-ass.

She's who we're after.

I bet she smuggles in a thousand of them
son of bitches a year.

But word on the street is
now she's expanding.

She's gonna start bringing them in
in convoys.

And blow me if we can catch her.

Mm.
Mm-mmm.

But if Mercedes isn't--? Then why would--?

But-- Oh, hang on a sec.

"Dear Sterling...

...you probably
should not be reading this out loud--"

Because hopefully
you are with the

Border Patrol on the way
to a real hospital.

Fm so sorry you got shot.

And I don't know how to tell you this,
but we did not meet by accident.

We knew you would be there, Sterling.

We knew your strengths, and we also knew--

Well, one of your many, many weaknesses.

Mwah.

And then-- Well, you know the rest.

What the--?

But who--? Oh, hang on, there's a--

PS, and as for who-- Wait, hang on.

Oh, Lupe says she will be praying for you.

And as for who,
I hate to be the one to tell you this...

...but maybe you know someone
who values money--

Oh, my...

...mother.

more than their so-catted principles.

So, what do you care if it's in pesos?

Well, actually, no, I was,
but then I thought, white carpet?

Because you wouldn't believe
what goes on around--

What are you doing?

What? Nothing. I'm just a hologram.

Anyhoo...