Original subtitles

Malory: AND IF IT HAPPENS

AGAIN, I'LL PUT A LOCK ON IT SO

NO ONE CAN ENJOY IT.

MOVING ON, ITEM 7.

OH.

I'M AFRAID I HAVE SOME TRAGIC NEWS.

Archer: ITEM 6 WASN'T TRAGIC?

Malory: ZIP IT! Archer: WOW.

AGENT HECTOR RUíZ, WHO HAD INFILTRATED EL FRENTE ROJO, WAS

KILLED LAST NIGHT WHEN HIS COVER WAS BLOWN.

[ ALL MURMUR ]

Archer: WHO?

Lana: HOW IN THE WORLD DID

HIS COVER GET BLOWN?

HAHA! GRACIAS, AMIGO! Y VIVA LA --

[ CELLPHONE RINGS ]

Ruíz: PUTA MADRE!

PERDóNAME, SEÑORES.

HOLA?

Archer: RUíZ. HEY, MAN.

TALK TO THESE CHICKS, ALL RIGHT?

TELL THEM HOW WE'RE REALLY ISIS

AGENTS.

THEY DON'T BELIEVE ME.

[ Spanish accent ] HELLO!

SEÑOR WINGMAN!

HE PROBABLY JUST GOT CARELESS.

Malory: I'M SURE HECTOR DIDN'T GET --

Archer: OH, COME ON! RUíZ WAS A LOOSE CANNON.

HE PLAYED IT FAST, AND HE PLAYED IT LOOSE. AND IN THE END, HE GOT BURNED.

Malory: BE THAT AS IT MAY...

- Archer: LOOSE CANNON. - Malory: ...FOR ISIS TO

CONTINUE ENJOYING TITLE 6 TAX INCENTIVES, WE HAVE TO MEET

CERTAIN...DIVERSITY REQUIREMENTS.

Cyril: OH, I THINK WE'RE PRETTY DIVERSE.

- Lana: HA! PLEASE. - Archer: WHAT?

YOU'RE BLACK...ISH.

Lana: "ISH"?

Archer: WELL, WHAT'S THE WORD FOR IT, LANA?

YOU FREAKED OUT WHEN I SAID "QUADROON."

Lana: IMAGINE THAT! Archer: YOU IMAGINE IT!

Malory: BOTH OF YOU, IMAGINE SHUTTING UP!

BECAUSE AFTER LOSING AGENT PAK LAST YEAR...

Archer: HEY, TELL THIS BROAD

WHAT'S UP WITH ISIS, PAK-MAN!

WOKKA WOKKA WOKKA!

Malory: ...AND THEN AGENT MGUMBE...

Archer: HEY, YOU GOING TO THIS LAME ISIS PICNIC?

LOOSE CANNONS!

Malory: ...THE ISIS PALETTE HAS BECOME DECIDEDLY MONOCHROMATIC.

I'M 1/64th CHEROKEE.

[ ALL GROAN ]

WHAT?!

Cyril: "A," NO, YOU'RE PROBABLY NOT.

Lana: AND "B" THROUGH "Z," NOBODY GIVES A SHIT.

- RACIST! - Lana: WHAT?!

YOU'RE ANTI-NATIVE AMERICAN!

Malory: [ WHISTLES SHRILLY ]

[ ALL GROAN ]

ITEM 8.

WE NEED A DIVERSITY HIRE.

- Archer: I VOTE ASIAN CHICK. - Malory: AND AFTER AN

EXHAUSTIVE SEARCH, I FOUND THE

PERFECT CANDIDATE.

SO JOIN ME IN WELCOMING OUR

NEW ISIS AGENT...

Conway: STERN.

CONWAY STERN.

Malory: HE'S A DIVERSITY

DOUBLE WHAMMY.

Malory: SO THAT WAS THE FIRING RANGE AND THE CAFETERIA, AND -- DO YOU KEEP KOSHER?

Conway: WELL, I-I DO HAVE A WEAKNESS FOR PRAWNS.

Malory: ME TOO! I'LL HAVE THEM MAKE PAELLA

TOMORROW.

OKAY, THAT'S THE MAINFRAME, AND

THESE ARE ALL JUST...DRONES.

Cyril: HEY! Conway: "DRONES"?

MALORY, T-THESE ARE THE UNSUNG HEROES OF ISIS.

I MEAN, WHERE WOULD WE BE WITHOUT MY MAN CYRIL IN ACCOUNTING...

Cyril: HEY, THANKS...BRO.

Conway: YOU GOT IT, BUDDY.

...OR THE LOVELY PAM IN HUMAN RESOURCES?

Pam: YEAH, I AM KIND OF LOVELY.

Conway: AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST --

I'M SORRY, I DON'T KNOW YOUR NAME.

ME NEITHER.

Malory: SEE? THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!

NOW OVER HERE IS A BIG CORNER OFFICE.

Conway: I SEE IT'S CURRENTLY EMPTY.

LIKE MY "VAGINE."

Pam: YEAH, BUT UNLIKE YOUR DUSTY "VAGINE,"

IT'S NOT GONNA STAY EMPTY.

Cyril: WAIT.

YOU DON'T THINK YOU'RE GETTING THE OFFICE?

Pam: WELL, I AM THE HUMAN RESOURCES DIRECTOR.

Cyril: BUT, PAM, COME ON.

LET'S FACE IT -- YOUR ENTIRE JOB COULD BE DONE BY A -- A BULLETIN BOARD.

Pam: YOU HEARD CONWAY.

I'M ESSENTIAL.

- Cyril: HOW? - I CAN GO ONLINE AND GET A LIST

OF EVERY FEDERAL HOLIDAY FOR THE NEXT --

[ COMPUTER KEYS CLACKING ] WOW. 10,000 YEARS.

Pam: WAIT. REALLY? 10,000?

OH. NO. THIS ISN'T EVEN ON.

Pam: I'M GONNA GET THAT OFFICE! Cyril: I'M GETTING IT, PAM!

OH, MY GOD.

I AM SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS.

Malory: AND THIS...

IS THE LOCKER ROOM.

Conway: YEAH, THE, UH,

LOCKERS WERE A TIP-OFF.

Malory: WELL, I'LL LEAVE YOU TO IT.

BUT IF YOU NEED ANYTHING,

WELL, YOU KNOW HOW TO WHISTLE,

DON'T YOU, CONWAY?

Conway: YEP. LIPS TOGETHER, BLOW. GOT IT.

Malory: OH [CHUCKLES] YOU ARE JUST A LITTLE TREASURE!

[ GIGGLING ]

Conway: JESUS, CONWAY,

WHAT HAVE YOU GOT YOURSELF INTO, MAN? [ GUN COCKS ]

Archer: YOU BETTER PRAY IT WASN'T MY MOTHER.

Conway: I'M FAIRLY CONFIDENT THAT YOU MISREAD THAT WHOLE SITUATION.

Archer: OH, YEAH? Conway: AND I'M REAL CONFIDENT YOU MISREAD THIS ONE.

Archer: OH!

UH, HOW ABOUT THIS ONE?

Conway: THIS ONE, UH,

ACTUALLY SEEMS KIND OF GAY.

Archer: MAYBE BECAUSE OUR,

UH, PENISES ARE TOUCHING.

Conway: YEAH, SO LET'S GO

ON...

Both: THREE!

Conway: WHAT, YOU, UH, YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU LIKE?

Archer: WH-- NO, YOU...QUEER.

Conway: OH, I'M QUEER? FROM THE GUY WHOSE TINY GUN CAME WITH A MATCHING PURSE.

Archer: HEY, IT'S GOT PLENTY OF STOPPING POWER.

Brett: WHAT?! THAT LITTLE --

GOD DAMN IT, ARCHER! Conway: OH, SHIT.

Archer: SEE THAT?

HE WAS PUTTING ON HIS PANTS,

AND I STOPPED HIM.

SO YOU JUST WATCH YOUR STEP,

MISTER, UH, DAMN IT. Conway: HEY, RIGHT THERE,

WHAT YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE WITH

WAS "SAMMY GAY-VIS JR."

Archer: DAMN IT!

Cyril: COME ON. SHE DOESN'T NEED A CORNER OFFICE

JUST TO XEROX THE ISIS NEWSLETTER.

Pam: COLOR XEROX!

AND, WHAT, YOU NEED MORE ROOM

TO CHOP VEGETABLES?

Malory: ALL RIGHT! OBVIOUSLY, I NEED TO MAKE A DECISION, BUT WHICH SHALL IT --

OOH!

OR I COULD GIVE CONWAY BOTH.

Lana: YOU WHAT?!

Conway: I ALREADY TOOK CARE OF THOSE.

Lana: FRODO AND SALSA WERE MY OPERATIONS!

Conway: AT EASE, CAREER ADMIRAL.

MALORY WAS GETTING IMPATIENT ON SALSA.

Lana: SALSA WAS A HIGHLY COMPLEX OPERATION.

Conway: TWO PHONE CALLS. AND AS FOR FRODO...

Lana: WH--

Conway: WELL, SOME PUN INVOLVING HOBBITS.

LIKE, I BET HE WISHES HE WAS WEARING BILBO'S COAT OF DWARVEN MITHRIL, RIGHT?

Conway: GONNA TAKE YOUR WORD ON THAT.

Lana: OH, YEAH? WELL, TAKE MY WORD ON THIS --

I'M THE TOP AGENT AROUND HERE,

SO WATCH IT!

SO, SEE, IN MIDDLE-EARTH --

Conway: Shh!

Shh. Shh. Shh.

COME ON, BUDDY.

Pam: YOU'RE KIDDING.

Archer: NO, I'M DEAD SERIOUS.

Pam: YEAH? Archer: I WANT TO FILE AN H.R. COMPLAINT AGAINST CONWAY.

Pam: ON WHAT GROUNDS? Archer: HE TOUCHED MY PENIS WITH HIS PENIS.

Pam: WOW.

Archer: YEAH, HE JUST CAME UP

TO ME AND WAS LIKE, "BYOP."

Pam: WHERE?

Archer: ALL OF IT -- HEAD AND SHAFT.

Archer: OH, YOU MEAN WHERE IN THE BUILDING?

- 'CAUSE THAT SHOULDN'T MATTER. - Pam: I'VE GOT THIS OTHER

COMPLAINT FROM BRETT, WHO SAYS

YOU SHOT HIM AGAIN.

Archer: HERE'S THE THING

ABOUT BRETT.

Pam: AW, SHIT!

THOSE WERE THE NEWSLETTERS!

CYRIL, I NEED A LITTLE FAVOR.

Cyril: OKAY, CARI-- OH,

NOW IT'S "CRISTAL"?

CRIS-TAL!

YOU KNOW, LIKE THE CHAMPAGNE?

IT'S WHAT HOT BLACK GUYS DRINK.

Cyril: UH, YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?

AND I WANT CONWAY TO DRINK

ME, SO I NEED YOU TO HOOK A SISTER UP.

Cyril: WELL, I WILL...

CERTAINLY TRY.

DON'T TRY. DO.

AND, HERE, USE THIS.

Cyril: [ SNIFFS ] UHH! WOW! WHAT IS THIS?

TELL CONWAY THAT HIS

SECRET SANTA WANTS TO COME EARLY.

Cyril: EW.

OR, YOU KNOW, WHOEVER BRINGS JEWISH PEOPLE THEIR CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.

[ MOTOR WHIRRING ]

Lana: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Archer: UH, NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS-ING?

AND WHAT KIND OF SPY AGENCY SCRIMPS ON A FREAKING SHREDDER?

Lana: WELL, APPARENTLY THE KIND THAT SCRIMPS ON BACKGROUND CHECKS.

WHO IS THIS GUY? Archer: I DON'T KNOW, BUT I

GOT A BAD FEELING ABOUT MOTHER'S LITTLE "PROJECT CONWAY."

Lana: SO, I MUST BE HAVING A STROKE, BECAUSE WE ACTUALLY AGREE ON SOMETHING.

Archer: WAIT. REALLY?

Lana: TOTALLY! I MEAN, HE SHOWS UP OUT OF NOWHERE AND STARTS TRYING TO GET

ALL UP IN EVERYTHING?

I MEAN, SALSA, FRODO --

Archer: POSSIBLY MOTHER.

Lana: AND WHAT DO WE EVEN KNOW ABOUT HIM?

Archer: ONLY THAT HE'S NOT CIRCUMCISED.

Lana: OKAY, GLOSSING OVER

HOW YOU KNOW THAT --

Archer: WE TOUCHED PENISES.

Lana: NO! GLOSSING!

BUT A NON-CIRCUMCISED JEWISH

GUY -- THAT'S NOT WEIRD TO YOU?

Archer: NO, WHY WOULD -- I MEAN,

I'M NOT JEWISH, AND I AM CIRCUMCISED, SO IT CAN HAPPEN --

Lana: IT DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT!

Archer: LANA, COME ON. I THINK WE BOTH KNOW IT WORKS FINE.

Lana: OH, COME ON!

NOT YOUR DICK, DUMBASS! Archer: OH, MY GOD!

THIS IS ABOUT YOU AND ME, RIGHT?

Lana: OH, MY GOD! GET OVER YOURSELF!

Archer: HEY, I AM OVER ME!

BUT APPARENTLY YOU'RE NOT! [ SNIFFS ]

WHAT THE HELL SMELLS LIKE SHRIMP?

JUST MY SENSUAL WOMANHOOD.

OH, WAIT. EW.

Conway: I'LL BET YOUR WOMANHOOD SMELLS DIVINE.

CONWAY! Conway: NOW, WHOM CAN I THANK FOR THESE SHRIMP?

ME!

YOUR SECRET JEW SANTA!

CONWAY! THAT WAS AMAZING!

Conway: YEAH. SO, UH, OKAY.

OH, MY GOD. I HOPE I'M PREGNANT.

Archer: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

Pam: WELL, THE SYSTEM BOUNCED BACK YOUR SEXUAL-HARASSMENT COMPLAINT AGAINST CONWAY.

Archer: WELL, UNBOUNCE IT BACK.

Pam: WHO AM I -- TRON? GO TALK TO YOUR MOTHER. SHE'S THE ONE WHO BOUNCED IT.

- Archer: WHY?! - Pam: HEY, WHOA!

Archer: WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?

Pam: DON'T GO STARTING RUMORS ABOUT CONWAY BONING YOUR MOTHER.

Archer: OH, MY --

[ VOMITS ]

[ COUGHS ]

Pam: YOU GET ANY OF THAT IN THE TRASH CAN?

Archer: NO.

I, UH, MISSED ON PURPOSE.

Lana: HEY, MALORY, UH, YOU GOT A SECOND?

Malory: I SINCERELY DOUBT IT.

Lana: IT'S ABOUT CONWAY.

Malory: THEN YES!

I HAVE ENTIRE MINUTES!

ISN'T HE JUST A DREAM COME TRUE?

Lana: WELL, THAT'S THE THING.

HOW DID YOU ACTUALLY FIND CONWAY?

Malory: WELL, HE JUST SORT OF...APPEARED...

Lana: UH, YES, OKAY. Malory: ...LIKE A FOUNDLING,

CARVED OUT OF ONYX!

Lana: YES, BUT FROM WHERE?

I MEAN, IF YOU DIDN'T DO A BACKGROUND CHECK --

Malory: ARE YOU AN IDIOT, OR DO YOU JUST THINK I AM?

- HE TOTALLY CHECKED OUT. - Lana: OKAY.

SO, DO YOU MIND IF I JUST TAKE A LITTLE --

Malory: LANA KANE!

JUST BECAUSE NOW YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY BLACK AGENT --

Lana: HEY, THAT IS NOT --

Malory: "URBAN," WHATEVER.

YOU COME IN HERE AND ACCUSE CONWAY OF WHAT, EXACTLY?

Lana: OKAY, FINE. I CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING RIGHT NOW.

Malory: BUT THAT NEVER STOPPED J. EDNA HOOVER FROM PERSECUTING MARTIN LUTHER KING,

NOW, DID IT?

Lana: WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO -- WAIT.

J. EDNA?

Malory: YOU NEVER HEARD THAT?

HOW HOOVER WAS THIS HUGE,

CROSS-DRESSING CHICKEN HAWK?

Lana: I HAD NOT.

Malory: WELL, THAT'S EXACTLY THE KIND OF SLANDEROUS AND

UNSUBSTANTIATED RUMOR I WILL

NOT TOLERATE AT ISIS!

THINK ABOUT THAT WHILE YOU'RE ON SUSPENSION.

Lana: WHILE I'M ON WHAT?!

Malory: WHAT, ARE YOU DEAF AND RACIST?

Lana: I'M BLACK!

Malory: OH, PUT IT BACK IN THE DECK.

Cyril: HEY, HOW'S MY LOVELY LADY?

Lana: SUSPENDED!

Cyril: WHAT?!

Lana: MALORY SUSPENDED ME JUST BECAUSE I HAD THE NERVE TO

ASK A FEW QUESTIONS ABOUT HER LITTLE HOMEBOY McJEWERSON!

Cyril: WHOA. LANA, HONEY. Lana: WHAT?!

Cyril: EVEN THOUGH IT'S PERFECTLY NATURAL FOR YOU TO BE JEALOUS OF CONWAY --

Lana: [ GASPS ]

Conway: THEN SHE COLDCOCKED YOU, HUH?

Cyril: YEAH, WITH THAT BIG "FLINTSTONEY" FIST OF HERS.

BUT, SERIOUSLY, "HOMEBOY MCJEWERSON"?

Conway: COME ON. I'VE HEARD WORSE THAN THAT.

Cyril: BUT IT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE.

I MEAN MAYBE IF YOU WERE SCOTTISH OR --

Conway: HEY, MAN, RACISM,

ANTI-SEMITISM -- YOU CAN'T GO

LOOKING FOR THE LOGIC IN IT.

HERE, THIS'LL HELP THE SWELLING. Cyril: OH, THANK YOU. [ CHUCKLES ]

WHERE'D YOU GET THE STEAK?

Conway: CRISTAL. YET ANOTHER OFFERING OF

UNREFRIGERATED MEAT AND/OR SEAFOOD.

Cyril: YEAH, SHE'S KIND OF WEIRD THAT WAY.

Conway: YEAH, SHE'S KIND OF WEIRD A BUNCH OF WAYS.

[ COMPUTER KEYS CLACKING ]

Pam: WHAT YOU DOING, BIRD BONES?

LOOKING FOR A PREGNANCY TEST ONLINE.

Pam: BUT THERE'S A DRUGSTORE HALF A -- OH.

YOU MEAN THAT YOU TAKE ONLINE?

YEAH, I WANT TO KNOW, LIKE, NOW.

Pam: WELL, THANK GOD FOR THEM INTERNETS.

Archer: OKAY WHAT'S THIS LAME MEETING ABOUT?

NO IDEA, AND I'M BUSY, AND GO AWAY.

Archer: EXCUSE ME? OH, MY GOD. WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?

Archer: MOTHER CALLED ME FOR A MEETING.

Malory: BUT I THOUGHT YOU CALLED A MEETING.

OH, AND BY THE WAY, YOU DON'T CALL A MEETING!

ONLY I CALL A MEETING!

Conway: I CALLED THE MEETING.

Malory: WHICH I LOVE THAT YOU DID THAT.

Conway: I'M SORRY. I KNOW IT'S NOT STANDARD PROCEDURE, BUT WE'VE GOT A PROBLEM.

A PROBLEM? OR A BLESSING?

Conway: A PROBLEM.

IT'S A SILENT SUBMARINE-PROPULSION SYSTEM

CALLED THE "WHISPER DRIVE."

Malory: OOH, SOUNDS SEXY.

Archer: WOULD YOU STOP IT?!

Conway: FOLKS, PLEASE. Archer: EMBARRASSING.

Malory: YOU'RE EMBARRASSING. Conway: JESUS.

THIS IS WILHELM SCHMECK,

INVENTOR OF THE WHISPER DRIVE.

YESTERDAY SCHMECK WENT MISSING,

ALONG WITH THE PLANS FOR THE WHISPER DRIVE.

I'VE TRACKED HIM TO SOUTH BEACH, WHERE HE'S ARRANGED TO SELL THE

PLANS TO CUBAN NAVAL INTELLIGENCE.

IF THAT HAPPENS, UNDETECTABLE CUBAN MISSILE SUBS COULD BE PARKED RIGHT OFF MIAMI BEACH.

Malory: UGH! JUST WHAT MIAMI NEEDS -- MORE CUBANS.

Conway: AND ALL WE NEED IS A

STAND-IN WHO RESEMBLES SCHMECK'S

CUBAN CONTACT.

Archer: WH-- THAT LOOKS NOTHING LIKE ME.

Malory: WELL, HE'S JUST A LOT MORE HANDSOME.

Archer: YEAH, WHATEVER. Malory: ZIP IT!

CONWAY, DEAR, THE PLAN?

Conway: USING ARCHER AS BAIT,

WE SLIP IN JUST AHEAD OF THE REAL CUBANS, CAPTURE SCHMECK,

AND RECOVER THE PLANS.

AND IF WE COULD RUN THIS THING THROUGH YOUR CONDO, THAT WOULD BE --

Archer: YOU HAVE A SOUTH BEACH CONDO?!

Conway: OH, HEY, HOW'S THE, UH, LEMON TREE DOING?

Malory: RAúL SAYS IT ALREADY HAS TINY LEMONS.

THAT WAS A WONDERFUL THANK-YOU GIFT.

Conway: WELL, IT WAS A WONDERFUL WEEKEND.

Malory: IT WAS, WASN'T IT?

Archer: YOU WERE THERE, IN THE CONDO, TOGETHER?! Conway: YEAH, LAST WEEKEND.

Archer: [ VOMITS ]

Malory: OH, FOR -- SEE?!

THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU

DRINK ALL DAY AND SKIP LUNCH!

OH, WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE PAELLA.

Archer: [ VOMITS ]

[ ENGINE WHIRRING ]

Conway: ARCHER, COME ON, MAN. LET'S GO.

Archer: YOU GO! GET ON THE PLANE, BUCKLE IN,

SIT THERE, AND THINK ABOUT HOW YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME.

HEY, BABE. GOT ANY EXTRA PUKE BAGS?

Lana: WHY? YOU TAKING A MORAL INVENTORY?

Archer: JESUS, GOD!

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

Lana: I'M TRYING TO SAVE --

Archer: OUR RELATIONSHIP? LANA --

- Lana: ARCHER! - Archer: MAYBE WHEN I GET

BACK, WE CAN WORK OUT SOME KIND OF BANG-BUDDY DEAL, BUT --

OW!

Lana: I WANT YOU TO LISTEN TO ME.

Archer: WELL, THEN UNPERFORATE MY EARDRUM!

Lana: UN... HEAD UP YOUR ASS!

I THINK CONWAY IS TOTALLY UP TO SOMETHING.

Archer: DUH! YOU THINK I'M AN IDIOT?

I KNOW HE WANTS TO MARRY MOTHER AND MAKE HER CUT ME OUT OF THE

- WILL... - Lana: ARCHER --

Archer: ...WHICH IS WHY I'M GOING TO KILL HIM.

Lana: OH! WHATEVER THE REASON --

Archer: IT'S NOT BECAUSE OF THE WHOLE BLACK-STEPFATHER THING.

I THINK YOU KNOW ME BETTER THAN THAT.

Lana: YEAH, I DO.

SO TRY NOT TO DO ANYTHING STUPID, OKAY? CONWAY COULD BE DANGEROUS.

Archer: YOU KNOW WHAT'S DANGEROUS? YOUR OBSESSION WITH ME.

SERIOUSLY, LANA, CALL KENNY LOGGINS 'CAUSE YOU'RE IN

THE DANGER ZONE -- FROM

"TOP GUN."

Lana: JUST BE CAREFUL.

Archer: NO.

Archer: GOD, THIS IS SO...

CLASSIC MOTHER!

Conway: YEAH, IT'S, UH,

PRETTY TASTEFULLY DONE, HUH?

Archer: NO, YOU ASS! THE SELFISHNESS.

SHE NEVER SHARES ANYTHING WITH ANYBODY.

Cyril: YOU'RE KEEPING THAT OFFICE FOR YOU?!

Malory: I NEED IT TO ESCAPE

THE GLARE FROM THOSE WINDOWS ACROSS THE STREET.

Pam: FROM THE -- THERE'S NO GLARE!

Malory: WELL, NOT NOW. BUT MID-APRIL?

EVERY MORNING FOR ALMOST 20 MINUTES.

Cyril: SO, YOU'RE GONNA KEEP

THAT HUGE CORNER OFFICE EMPTY THE OTHER...

Pam: 90 GAZILLION PERCENT OF THE TIME...

Cyril: JUST BECAUSE THE GLARE IS ANNOYING?!

Malory: WELL... SEMI-ANNOYING.

Conway: OKAY, YOU'RE MEETING

SCHMECK AT THAT CAFé ACROSS THE STREET DOWN THERE.

Archer: AND, UH, WHY DO YOU HAVE THAT EXACTLY?

Conway: WELL, YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN.

Archer: YEAH, TWO PEOPLE ALL ALONE TOGETHER, DOWN HERE IN SOUTH BEACH...

Conway: SO I'D RATHER HAVE IT AND NOT NEED IT...

- Archer: UH-HUH. - Conway: ...THAN NEED IT AND

- NOT HAVE IT. - Archer: OH. UH-HUH.

Conway: KIND OF LIKE A CONDOM, I GUESS,

WHICH ACTUALLY HAPPENED LAST WEEKEND.

Archer: OH, MY -- [ VOMITS ]

Conway: DAMN, MAN! I WAS KIDDING.

LOOK, IF YOU'RE TOO NERVOUS --

Archer: I'M FINE, ALL RIGHT?

JUST LET ME RINSE OFF MY MUSTACHE.

Schmeck: YOU ARE MORE HANDSOME IN YOUR PHOTOS.

Archer: OH. YEAH, TALK TO ME ABOUT HANDSOME.

Schmeck: AND YOU HAVE NO TRACE OF CUBAN ACCENT.

Archer: YEAH, IT'S CALLED

TRADECRAFT, GENIUS. I BLEND.

Conway: JUST SHUT UP AND GET THE PLANS.

Archer: YOU SHUT UP AND GET THE PLANS.

Schmeck: WHAT?

Archer: I MEAN, GIVE ME -- ME THOSE PLANS NOW.

- GIVE ME THOSE PLANS. - Schmeck: YOU MAY HAVE THEM

ONCE I CONFIRM THE BALANCE IN MY SWISS ACCOUNT.

Archer: OH, TELL HIM NOT TO BOTHER.

- Schmeck: WHAT? - Archer: WAIT. WHAT ARE WE DOING?

[ SILENCED GUNSHOT ]

Archer: CONWAY! WHAT THE SHIT, MAN?!

Conway: WHAT?! SCHMECK WAS A TRAITOR.

Archer: YEAH, AND NOW HE'S ALL OVER MY $400 CUSTOM SHIRT!

Conway: WELL, I'LL BUY YOU A NEW ONE.

NOW GRAB THE PLANS BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!

Archer: IT'S ALREADY TOO LATE...

YES, IT IS!

NOW HAND OVER --

Archer: ...BECAUSE IT'S ALREADY SOAKED INTO THE FIBERS, DUMBASS!

THIS IS LINEN!

AND THAT IS A CUBAN HIT SQUAD.

Conway: AND YOU MIGHT WANT TO DUCK.

[ SILENCED GUNSHOTS ]

Archer: OH, MY GOD.

CONWAY!

THAT WAS AMAZING!

Conway: YEAH, WELL, YOU KNOW.

Archer: NO, SERIOUSLY!

THAT WAS LIKE -- THAT WAS LIKE --

Conway: A CHARLES WHITMAN SAMPLER?

Archer: DAMN IT! YES!

AND, SERIOUSLY, THANKS.

Conway: OH, DON'T THANK ME YET.

Archer: WHA-- CONWAY, NO!

[ SILENCED GUNSHOTS ]

[ THUD ]

Conway: NOW YOU CAN THANK ME.

Archer: OH, MY GOD! YOU SAVED MY LIFE TWICE!

Conway: YOU WOULD HAVE DONE THE SAME FOR ME.

Archer: NO, I WOULDN'T HAVE! I MEAN, I WAS ACTUALLY KIND OF

PLANNING TO KILL YOU.

Conway: WAIT. WHAT?! Archer: I KNOW, I KNOW. NOW I'M TOTALLY EMBARRASSED.

Conway: HEY, YOU KNOW WHAT? WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE, DUDE.

MATTER OF FACT, COME HERE. LET'S MAN-HUG IT.

Archer: ALL RIGHT. OKAY. UM, YEAH.

Conway: I MEAN, AFTER ALL, WE ARE GONNA BE FAMILY, ONCE I MARRY YOUR MOM.

Archer: WHAT?! Conway: I'M KIDDING! GOD, RELAX, MAN!

Archer: 'CAUSE FOR A SECOND THERE, I WAS LIKE -- I MEAN, NOT IN A RACIST WAY -- BUT --

CONWAY? Conway: YEAH, BUDDY.

Archer: ARE THERE MORE BAD GUYS BEHIND ME?

Conway: NOPE. Archer: YOU DICK.

[ THUD ] Conway: [ LAUGHS ]

YOU DUMBASS! I SET THIS WHOLE THING UP.

I JUST NEEDED A STAND-IN FOR THOSE BROKE-ASS CUBANS.

Archer: YEAH, I GET IT. Conway: I MEAN, COME ON.

THE CHINESE WILL PAY FIVE TIMES AS MUCH FOR THE WHISPER DRIVE.

AND ONCE THEY DO? LET'S JUST SAY YOU BETTER LEARN HOW TO USE SOME CHOPSTICKS,

BUDDY.

Archer: CONWAY, WAIT! JUST ANSWER ME ONE QUESTION.

Conway: YEAH, MAKE IT QUICK. MY RIDE'S HERE.

Archer: [ WHEEZES ]

Conway: AND YOUR LUNGS ARE FILLING UP WITH BLOOD.

Archer: DID YOU HAVE SEX WITH MY MOTHER?!

Conway: WAIT. WHAT? THAT IS YOUR ONLY QUESTION?

NOT WHO AM I, NOT HOW DID I INFILTRATE ISIS, OR WHO THE HELL'S FLYING THE HELICOPTER?

Archer: JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!

Conway: NO, ARCHER, I DIDN'T HAVE SEX WITH YOUR MOM!

Archer: OH, THANK GOD!

THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A TOUGH IMAGE TO GET OUT OF MY HEAD. THANK YOU.

Conway: THAT RIGHT THERE -- THAT KIND OF RACISM IS EXACTLY

WHY I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE TINY

LITTLE CHINESE BOOTS ON YOUR

WHITE-ASS NECKS...

WHICH MAY SOUND HYPOCRITICAL, I

KNOW, BUT -- WOULD YOU GO?!

WHAT THE -- Lana: SORRY, CONWAY.

WAIT. SHIT, I HAD SOMETHING FOR THIS.

Conway: IS IT SOMETHING LIKE,

"YOU DON'T GET OFF THE HOOK THAT EASY"?

Lana: DAMN IT! Archer: HE'S GOOD AT THOSE.

Lana: WELL, CRAWL ON OVER THERE AND BLOW HIM. Archer: HEY, C'MON.

NOW DROP THE CASE, CONWAY!

Conway: IT'S CUFFED ON, WOMAN!

[ GROANS ] AND HOW THE HELL ARE YOUR HANDS

THAT FRICKING STR--

AAAHH!

Lana: EW.

Conway: YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF CONWAY STERN...

WHICH IS NOT MY REAL NA-A-A-ME!

Archer: SO, LET ME GUESS.

Lana: YEAH, WHOEVER HE IS, HE GHOSTED AN I.D. FILE INTO OUR WORLDWIDE DATABASE.

Archer: WHICH YOU PROBABLY FOUND WHILE RESEARCHING ME,

LANA, 'CAUSE YOU'RE IN THE, UH, DANGER ZONE! [ COUGHS ]

Lana: AND THOSE WERE HIS LAST WORDS RIGHT BEFORE HE BLED TO DEATH ON THE RUG.

Malory: WHICH RUG?!

[ CHUCKLES ] GOOD.

I THOUGHT YOU MEANT IN THE BEDROOM.

NO, THAT ONE IS JUST JUTE.

EXACTLY.

GUESTS COME IN FROM THE BEACH. THEY'RE ALL SANDY OR WHATEVER,

AND -- SUSPENSION? LANA, DEAR, YOU ARE GETTING A BONUS!

MY GOD, YOU FOILED THAT PERFIDIOUS CONWAY, SAVED STERLING'S --

ALL RIGHT. JUST PULL THE KNIFE OUT.

Archer: [ GROANS ]

Malory: AND THEN SLAP SARAN WRAP ON THE HOLE.

[ GASPS ] BUT LEAVE ME ENOUGH TO MAKE GUACAMOLE.

NO, YOU SQUEEZE LEMON JUICE

OVER IT, THEN SMOOSH THE SARAN

WRAP RIGHT DOWN ON TOP.

THAT WAY, IT DOESN'T GO BROWN.

OH, LET THE PARAMEDICS DO THAT.

YOU JUST HAVE FUN, DEAR.

MM-HMM. BYE!

OH, DAMN!

NOW I BET SHE'S GOING TO SQUEEZE

UP ALL MY BRAND-NEW LEMONS!

AND I'LL HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO

REMIND ME OF CONWAY.

EXCEPT HIS LITTLE MOCHA LOVE CHILD.

Malory: HIS WHAT?!

YEAH! Malory: YOU HAD SEX WITH CONWAY?!

YEAH, AND HE TOTALLY IMPREGNATED ME.

Malory: WAIT.

HE WAS ONLY HERE TWO DAYS.

HOW IS THAT PREGNANCY TEST SHOWING POSITIVE?

OH, THIS IS JUST A DETERGENT PEN.

I JUST PUT A LITTLE BLUE STICKER ON IT.