Original subtitles

[slow jazz music]

Fabian: This is the main vault

of the Global Currency Bank of New York.

You will retrieve the contents

of this safe deposit box tonight.

Questions? - Uh, just one jillion.

- You want us to rob a bank?

- Yeah, that was the first one. - Of course not.

- How is this not robbing a bank?

- Because we won't use those words.

- Yeah, that'll hold up in court.

- Also, night in general

is kind of a bad time for me.

I have experiments that I need to feed after midnight.

- Not to be Mr. All About the Rules...

- Hey, there's a first. - But wouldn't this be crossing

pretty big moral and ethical lines?

- I'm sorry, but Cyril is rrr--r-right.

Wow, saying that felt even worse than thinking it.

- Yeah, the agency isn't really in the business

of committing pure crime...

- We're not? - That isn't espionage-related.

- Oh, okay.

'Cause I was gonna say,

we kill people, like, all the time.

- Oh, come on. It's not that bad.

We'll be in and out, easy peasy.

- Um, that sounds neither easy nor peasy.

- And not that it's ever a great time to go to prison,

but I have my custody hearing for AJ coming up,

and they tend to frown on recent felons.

- Hey, maybe it's for a good cause.

Like what if there's a baby monkey trapped in the box?

You could tell us that. I'm willing to believe it.

- Ooh, yes! Let's say there is

an extremely adorable little monkey in the box

and that poor little fella needs to be retrieved

before open of business tomorrow at 9:00 a. m.

After that point, I'm afraid it'll be too late

for the little chap, but I can provide incentive.

If you do this, IIA will give you back ownership

of the agency, along with the budget

for the next six months.

- Whoa. Really? - That would be enough

to get us fully back up and running.

- It sounds good, but let's see that in--

writing.

Well, I'll be damned.

[laughs] Notarized and everything.

- Okay, Fabian. With my peerless leadership,

we're gonna do this mission, save the agency,

and when it's finished, I'm gonna laugh

in your fat face.

Here's to complete, utter victory.

[echoing clang]

So, uh, are all of you trapped?

- Yep.

- Yep. [lasers humming]

- Yep. - Yeah--[groans]

- [strains]

- That monkey is doomed.

[main title theme]

♪ ♪

Archer: So in retrospect, it would've been good to know

that the vault door closes automatically

after ten minutes.

Pam, any luck disabling it?

No, but I am...

[rattling] Totally stuck.

- Tell me about it. These guys won't shut up.

- My lower gluteus is about to, well, I guess really tear,

but whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

I'm fine. I mean, not really.

So what are we doing?

- Well, our leader is incompetent,

I'm this close to losing my daughter,

and now I'm trapped in a vault with the most irritating

human being alive.

- Uh, comms went down when the vault closed.

We can't hear them. They can't hear you.

- Oh, I know. I just wanted you to hear it.

- [sighs] As a leader, sometimes it's hard to admit,

but I have terrible followers.

Ray: Ah, the mark of a true leader:

passing the blame.

- I didn't invent banks, Ray,

so direct your shitty comments

to the Assyrians or possibly Sumerians.

Indus Valley also in the mix.

- Will you shush it? There are guards right outside.

But for the record, a good leader

slips the criticism in between a compliment sandwich.

Like "Pam, great idea getting up on the vault,

"but next time, maybe try to demonstrate

"some basic spatial awareness.

Also, your skin has been glowing lately."

- Yeah, what's up with that?

Are you pregnant or in love?

Ooh, wait, did you drink a bunch of nuclear waste?

- Ew, no. Definitely not pregnant.

Can we just focus on not going to jail, please?

I have brunch plans.

- You have a point, Pam, but also brunch

is a stupid reason to not wanna go to jail, so pipe down.

I have a plan.

Pam, you're gonna drill a hole in the vault

so we can reestablish communication

with Lana and Cyril.

Krieger, you hack the intercom system

with an emergency announcement to cover the noise.

Gillette, while all the guards are distracted,

you'll be free to exit the closet,

find the security grid, and disable it for Krieger.

[whoosh] Now I'm gonna go head

into the executive offices upstairs

to find an override code for the vault.

Pam: And also find more booze that you just ran out of?

- You know, I was being nice before, Pam.

Your skin doesn't look

that much better. all: What?

Krieger: You are a monster, sir.

- Fine, getting a drink is a secondary part

of the plan, but I'm only being responsible.

I'm about to be sober for the first time in ten years.

If that hangover hits head-on, my bones will explode.

Krieger, you ready to hack into the sound system?

- [straining] Okay, doing this behind my back,

but I'm pretty sure I got the right jack.

On my mark. Three, two, one.

[feedback screeching] - Aah!

- It may not have been the right one.

- God damn it. Everyone, just go with it.

[drill whirs]

- [groans] - Is it really that bad?

I still just mostly hear my ears ringing.

Thanks, tinnitus.

- Okay, security control room,

that should be better labeled.

[gun cocks] - Stop right there!

- Whoa, whoa, hold up. I work here.

It's my first day.

Is that how you say hello, with a gun?

- Pretty much. Better safe than sorry.

- Well, if you were any more safe,

there'd be a bunch of holes in me.

- I meant safe for me. [gun cocks]

- Clearly. So can you show me around?

I still haven't seen the security grid setup.

- Sure, but it's all pointless.

I don't know why these dinosaurs are so worried

about their precious physical dollars and cents.

Money is an illusion.

- That's an interesting take for a bank security guard.

- Not really. I've seen things here.

The suits, the architecture, the green paper--

it's all symbolic, like marriage and seagulls.

- Wow, you are covering a lot of ground here.

- So do you smoke grass or are you a narc?

- Yes to the first, no to the second.

- You guys doing all right down there?

- Uh, yeah. Not so great.

We found the safe deposit box, but we can't get it open.

- [panting] - And Cyril miraculously

hasn't sucked all the air out of the room

with all his stupid hyperventilating.

- This is a very small space.

- Nice work, just Lana.

- Ugh, when the door closed,

I was in the middle of a strategy call

for AJ's custody hearing with my lawyer.

Ah, well, my friend who's a lawyer,

which is why she's taking my call at... 7:45?

Crap! We need to hurry!

- Don't worry. We'll get you out.

Then you can get back to making

your friends' lives miserable,

and I'll be on time for my brunch.

- We'll be trapped in here till we die,

our bodies decaying on the floor.

[pants] - Aw, come on, hon.

That's not true.

They'd remove our bodies way before they decayed.

- And don't think of it as trapped.

It could be kinda nice, right?

Just one person for the rest of your life?

- You know, it kind of feels like we switched subjects here,

but do you think the best audience for that kind of talk

is the lady whose ex-husband is fighting

for control of her daughter?

- N-- Lana: And is locked in a vault

with her feckless ex-boyfriend?

- N-- Lana: And whose

other ex-boyfriend

got her stuck in here?

- Can I say no now?

Lana: You better.

[smooth jazz music]

- God damn these young execs

and their green juices. [bottle smashes]

Doesn't anyone have the decency

to be drunk at work anymore?

Wait, kombucha has alcohol.

"May contain trace amounts of alcohol."

May? Trace?

Two words that should never be near alcohol.

Mm, except on Cinco de Mayo or with Dick Tracy.

[laughing] Or both. Man, that'd be a kick.

Pam: Archer, I got out!

Those strippercize classes really helped with my shimmy.

- You truly are a Renaissance woman.

Though I should say, my knowledge of that era

mostly comes from historically-themed

pornography. - And I would like to see that,

but, uh, not seeing much progress here.

Archer: [groans] Sorry. I'm a little fuzzy.

I think that hangover's on its way.

- Would you get your head in the game?

If we don't get out of here,

we are risking a hostage situation,

civilian casualties, and prison.

And I'll miss my 8:30 brunch reservations.

Archer: 8:30?

What kind of psychopath has brunch at 8:30?

That's breakfast, Pam.

- We can and will argue about that later,

but what do we do now?

- God damn it, there's only one person who can help us.

[dramatic music] - [laughs evilly]

[phone ringing]

[sighs]

Wait, what was I laughing about?

[concoction bubbling]

[phone ringing] - Well, well, well.

Look who came crawling back.

- Hey, neck bones.

Cheryl: [laughing] Oh, it's you.

I thought it was someone else.

Their legs don't work. - We need your help.

- Oh, and by "we," do you mean your longtime colleagues

who couldn't be bothered to reach out to their boss

after she was humiliatingly fired?

- Yes, totally fair, except you weren't the boss,

I left a bunch of messages, and you quit.

- Oh, who's to say what is?

Archer: Cheryl, we're stuck in a bank,

and we need you to open a VIP safe deposit box

to get Lana and Cyril out of the vault.

- Okay, pretend to be an eccentric,

out-of-touch oligarch.

- No, you don't need to pretend.

You are those things.

- Ooh, and this will be a great opportunity

to use my self-taught demolition skills.

Archer: No, no, no, no. Don't bring bomb--

[dial tone] Well, that went something.

Pam, see if you can help Krieger.

I'll be down as soon as I possibly can. Out.

[gasps] Whiskey.

Thank the Kentucky gods.

A lesser man might find this humiliating,

but a man such as I--

eh, forget it.

[gulps]

Oh, my God.

[grimaces]

That's the best drink I've ever had!

[gun cocks] - Who the hell are you?

- Oh, sorry. Was this yours?

- Whoa, Susan.

You must know Mr. Bank.

- Hi, Susan. Yes, I'm Mr. Bank.

And I work at a bank.

Sometimes I wonder, "Is that a coincidence,

or did the name Bank create a subtle psychological pressure

for me to work at a bank?"

Either way, I do my job

all the time, and I do it well.

"You can bank on Bank," I always say.

- Yeah, he does overseas stuff, so he has weird hours.

Probably why y'all haven't met.

- How do you know this guy if it's your first day?

- Because...

- We're old pals. I got him the job.

He's been going through a rough time

with all the embezzling and prostitution

and mild cannibalism.

- Don't worry, I went to rehab for all of that.

- [laughs] Who hasn't?

- So is there any reason

you guys smell like a hacky sack convention?

- Is there a reason you smell like a narc?

Is this guy a narc? - No way.

In fact, I bet he'd love to hear your theories

about alien infiltration of the World Court.

She's been telling me all about it on our way

to the security control room.

- I, for one, think the aliens have been a positive influence.

- You know what? That does sound fascinating.

I'll join you. - Wonderful.

You know, you two are just like the sons I would've had

if I hadn't predicted that end-stage capitalism

would make it impossible to support a family

on my salary.

- Amen, sister.

- Guys, my entire body is going numb,

and not in the fun way.

- Stay strong, buddy.

Just focus on all the weird science shit

you'll get to do when you get out of here.

- [groans] Yes, no holding back anymore.

I'll expose all the truths "science" is too scared

to admit.

- Oh, boy.

Lana: Ugh, still nothing.

- [straining] Why don't you hire an actual lawyer

who can talk to you during normal business hours?

- Because then I wouldn't get to do this.

- Ow!

- Oh, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!

I have bars! Cyril: [whines]

- Shh, I'm on the phone.

Hey, sorry I lost you when we got locked in the, um--

uh, in the tunnel.

You were saying?

[laughs] Convicted of a crime? [lock clinking]

No, never. No.

[lock clicks open] Cyril: Yes!

Let the bank robbing begin!

[groans] - No, no.

That's not what he meant.

[laughing] Girl, you're hilarious.

Me robbing a bank?

[laughing] Oh, could you even imagine?

But hypothetically, how bad would that be?

- So here we are at the security controls.

- This switch controls the grid in the lobby

and this is the executive offices upstairs.

This one's for the grid surrounding the main vault.

- How does it operate?

If I wanted to turn it off,

would I just do this? [switch clicks]

[lasers beam off] - [sighs]

Thank nonexistent God in made-up heaven.

[grunts] - Oh, we can't do that, sir.

- [groans] [lasers humming]

- Hang on, wait a second.

If all this is symbolic anyway,

it really only matters if people think it's there.

Krieger: [sighs] - But me getting fired

isn't symbolic. Krieger: [grunts]

- [laughs] But we'd save money on electricity.

- Not worth me starving. Krieger: [grunts in pain]

- Less electricity, less global warming.

Krieger: [sighs] - Don't put that on me.

It's not my bank. Krieger: [sighs, groans]

[gun cocks] - Would you just stop?

[lasers humming] - Ow.

- Oh, you really love that gun.

- I'm old, and I need leverage.

If any of these are turned off for more than a few seconds,

the master alarm goes off.

- Well, that's just...

actually really good to know.

- Well, I have to go fill out some legal forms because--

oh, my God, I just realized my name is totally stupid.

[light music]

Did you catch all that? - Yeah.

You really stuck it to Ray with the name thing.

You should be nicer to him.

- I meant the part about how if we turn off the alarms,

we're screwed, but I also hear what you're saying about Ray,

and no. Krieger: [grunts]

[groans] - Krieger, what happened?

Krieger: It's all good.

Just injected myself with a paralytic.

Can't feel nothing now.

- You carry that on you?

- God, all of this is going so wrong.

I should just walk out.

No, stupid Pam.

You can't commit to anything. - Whoa, Pam.

What is going on with you?

- Nothing!

I just really wanna go to brunch.

- Hey, turn off your comms. [comms click off]

Is that really it?

You can get brunch next weekend.

I know a place that does topless mimosas.

It's bottomless mimosas served by topless dancers.

- I don't wanna have brunch with you.

- Ouch. Why?

- I want brunch with... Alessia.

- The hot Swiss mercenary lady who punched me in the face?

Why are you so sad?

She's awesome.

- Yeah, we've been dating,

but I think it could be, like,

I don't know, something real?

- Holy shit. Pam in a relationship?

Usually you're all wham-bam don't-get-attached-ma'am

or sir or them.

- I know. I thought I'd feel trapped,

and I know this sounds dumb,

but I've never felt more free.

- Pam, from the bottom of my heart,

that does sound dumb, but I'm happy for you.

- But now we're actually trapped in this stupid bank!

I mean, I can't even be on time for brunch.

She's Swiss, man!

Watches are like gods to them.

[phone ringing]

- Call Alessia. Push your brunch back an hour.

Here comes the cavalry, except it's like a cavalry

where the horses are in charge.

- That's supposed to comfort me?

- I don't know. Everything's going fuzzy.

Wow, I thought this hangover would kill me,

but-- [groans]

It's way worse than that.

I'm gonna go lie down for a bit,

then look for that override code.

Oh, and good luck with the Alessia thing.

[bright piano music]

- [in British accent] Well, hello, good sir.

A thousand thanks for letting me in early.

It is I, an obscenely wealthy socialite,

who wishes to do business with thine banking shoppe.

Cheerio, spit-spot.

- [laughing] Of course, Ms. Tunt.

God, I hate rich people.

- Ready and in position.

Krieger, watch your butt.

I'm going in. [saw whirring]

- Honestly, if you hit me,

I won't even feel it.

- That's funny. I can feel everything.

[button clicks, beeps]

Oops... he, uh, said for no reason.

Lana, Cyril, tell me you figured something out

so I can just die now.

- No dice. It's right here,

but I can't get the inner container unlocked.

- Will you just grab it? We'll figure it out later.

What? No. Oh, no.

No one's talking about grabbing AJ,

uh, unless you think that kidnapping is an option,

in which case--oh, God damn it. I lost service again.

- Or she didn't want to be an accessory to kidnapping.

You know, you can come to me with questions.

I have a law degree. - Oh, great.

Because I do have a legal question:

is it against the law to rip out a coworker's vocal chords

with your bare hands? - Very much, yes.

- Then as my lawyer, I advise you to stop talking.

Just grab the box!

- It's welded in, genius. [vault door opens]

[mysterious music]

- Oh, lovely. This is so Posh Spice.

Yes, yes, this will do quite nicely

for storing the crown jewels.

- Um, of what country?

- All of them!

Too many questions. Bring me someone else.

- Pam, it's empty. Go now.

[saw buzzing] [thud]

- My name's not Pam.

[clang]

- Good to see you again.

♪ ♪

- Where have you been, Ray? - [coughing]

Nowhere.

- Wow, it can't be that easy.

[gun cocks] Susan: Freeze right there!

- Never say that. - You said you were going

to the bathroom.

- I lied. Enough games.

I know you're robbing the bank.

I've known from the very beginning.

[laughs]

Nice.

Ooh, it was too much fun

watching you guys fumble around.

Serves these bozos right.

Bring it all down!

- You are amazing. You wouldn't happen to know

if there's booze around here, would you, Suz?

[shelf whirring] [bottles clinking]

- Well, at least they have good security on the booze.

Heads up, Ray.

- Override code 64245.

[touchpad beeping] - Yes.

Wait, is this it? [box creaks open]

- [laughing] You are one gorgeous weirdo.

- Thanks. One more thing.

You guys have to rough me up.

Make it look good.

- I--I don't think I can do that.

- Pussy. [grunting]

Get the hell out of here.

- We owe you dinner!

- I heard threesome.

[suspenseful music]

- See? I told you everything would work out.

[siren wails] [guns cocking]

- Oh, shit.

- I think it's pronounced "SWAT."

- Breach the door! Go, go, go, go, go!

[siren wails] - Who the hell tipped them off?

- No time to think about that.

Leadership! Upstairs!

[suspenseful music]

- [grunting]

- That's not gonna hurt until tomorrow.

- [grunting]

- Ow, okay. Turns out face shots hurt now.

- [groans, shudders]

- Oh, God, Tom, sorry.

Good luck with the ska band.

- Whoo.

police officer: Grenade! [coughing]

[explosion]

[grenade hissing]

- Where to now?

- As leader, I am open to suggestions.

- I am not getting arrested before my custody hearing.

Cheryl, do you have any more explosives?

- Duh, it's the only thing in here.

Even the tampons are bombs.

I like when my periods feel dangerous.

[phone ringing] - [groans]

- Oh, hey, Alessia.

So it, uh, turns out I might need to push our brunch back

just a bit more, like maybe 15 to 20 years.

- Pam, cut the shit.

I know you're inside the bank.

Don't worry about it, baby.

I'm out back with the getaway truck.

- Wait, really? How did you know?

- You sounded freaked out on the phone,

so I traced your team's movements.

Did it feel weird and stalker-y?

Yeah, but that's every American rom-com.

- It really is.

Hey, good news, guys!

My, uh, special friend is out back with wheels.

- Special friend? What did I tell you

about fear of commitment?

♪ ♪

- Cheryl, if you got something, now's the time.

- Take it easy. I've got this.

♪ ♪

And now... we begin.

[guns cocking]

♪ ♪

[button clicks, beeps]

[explosions] - [groaning]

[button clicks, beeps] [explosion]

- Well, fun while it lasted.

- Step aside. I've got this.

[can spraying] - Who the hell are you?

- I've been taking night classes.

Junior colleges are surprisingly comprehensive.

[can spraying]

- Well, this is how we die. Cheryl: Relax.

You will all die years from now, safe in your beds,

never suspecting I'm waiting in the shadows.

Clear! [button clicks]

[explosion]

[rubble clattering]

- Jump! - From all the way up here?

- Sometimes you gotta take the leap.

[grunts] Aah!

[thud] [groans]

- Uh, aah. [thud]

[both grunt]

- Aah!

- [groans] - And she can bake?

Good God, I love this woman.

- Wow, just blurting it out, huh?

- Well, I stole the truck with the pastries

and replaced the roof, but did you just say...

Lana: Go!

[engine roaring] Ray: Faster!

They're on our asses!

- Duh, that's why I planted all those extra bombs.

[remote beeps]

[explosions]

[tires screeching]

- So hey, about what you said back there, the L word--

- L word? Yeah, you must have misheard me.

I don't think I've ever used any words

that have that letter in them at all ever.

- Pam, that's such a stupid lie.

Your full name is Pamela.

Come on, just ask her to be your girlfriend already.

- Girlfriend? Ew. No.

[sighs] Alessia, will you be my polyamorous primary?

- Yes!

Just give me 4.2 seconds.

[dialing] Klaus?

You're down to secondary.

Ugh, don't be a baby.

And call Esmeralda and knock her down to three.

And now you're mine as well.

- Aw, you guys.

You know, I am partially responsible for--

- No. - Fabian must've sold us out

to the cops. - Now let's not rush to judg--

- No, let's do rush to judgment.

Fabian sold us out.

It's not like anyone accidentally pushed

a secret alarm or anything.

- The whole mission was probably bullshit.

This is just a bunch of pictures

with some random woman.

[smooth jazz music]

- You're late.

- Yeah, well, someone was apparently

pretty determined to get in our way.

- Come on, Fabian. Let's hear it.

What's your inevitable double cross?

- No, double cross. I'm a man of my word.

The agency is yours again.

And in fact, I'm pleased it all worked out this way.

I've come to respect--

Archer: Suck it, asshole!

Alessia, punch it!

- Nice working with you too.

♪ ♪

- Here's to me being right.

Complete and utter victory. - Was it, though?

- I freaking crushed it back there.

Or should I say blasted it? [laughs]

No, that sounds like something gross.

- Guys, you won't believe this.

anchor: Chaos in the Latin American country

of Manatina tonight

as the prime minister has declared martial law.

- Uh, does it seem like a coincidence

that's where I tripped over a tapir

and got snakebit in the face?

- [laughs] Oh, God. Still funny.

You were so almost gonna die.

- Borders are closed, and citizens have been confined

to their homes. This sudden authoritarian turn

is especially shocking given that the prime minister

has, until now, been highly progressive,

turning Manatina into a model for social change.

- Wait, did we just blackmail a president?

- Thereby causing a geopolitical incident?

- Well, that definitely won't look good in family court.

- Well, here's something that looks even worse.

This contract is backdated six months.

- So Fabian and IIA didn't rob that bank?

- Or all that other stuff he had us do.

- We did.

- Easy peasy.

♪ ♪

- Made in Georgia.