Lemme go!
You have no jurisdiction over me!
I'm a Canadian citizen!
Yeah, and we're taking you to Canada, so-- Help!
Extraordinary rendition!
Light him up, newbie.
Sorry in advance.
Owww!
That hurts like, insanely bad.
That's why I said sorry in advance. And you have to have to
stop yelling "extraordinary rendition."
A, nobody cares.
And -- Be careful!
You big lummox!
- I swear to God, if you scuff my bags... - Oh,
I wouldn't dream of it, ma'am.
And I can do without the sarcasm.
Oh, no ma'am, that wasn't -- Enough!
With the backchat!
Ugh, Lana, maybe you can talk to him.
Um?!
So this is the infamous Kenny Bilcoe?
- You don't look like much of a terrorist... - That's because I'm a
freedom fighter!
For a free and sovereign Nova Scotia!
Is that why you blew up a donut shop?
Allegedly!
If you believe Canada's illegitimate, so-called "government!"
- I'm pretty sure we do... - Which is why we're taking
you back to Ottawa.
And once we do, hopefully the Mounties will start sending us all kinds of
lucrative work.
How noble.
Speaking of work, can I put what I just assume is
your rock collection on the stupid train?
Yes, the -- nooope!
Nice try, Pam.
What?
You want to get on that train so you can stowaway!
Just like on the blimp!
The what?
Okay, no biggie.
Have a nice trip.
I -- wait a minute.
What now?
Too easy.
Pam's up to something.
Booooarrrd!
- Well, I doubt she'll make it on now... - Ditto for Archer.
Wh-?
He's not here?
Mmmmmm... nope.
Need to get these bags on, ma'am.
I heard him!
George!
- Malory, don't call him that... - My name actually is George.
Really?
Dammit, I told Sterling six o'clock!
I thought you meant six a.m.!
No, six -- Sterling are you drunk?
Winnerrrr!
Nice.
- Archer... - You knew we were transporting a dangerous
terrorist to Canada!
So how and why are you drunk at six o'clock?
Well the how's pretty self-explanatory, and the why is because, hic,
I thought we were leaving at six a.m.
tomorrow.
Ergo, Latin, plenty of time to sleep it off.
Well drink some coffee, because there's a good chance
Bilcoe's terrorist pals -- Alleged terrorist pals!
-- are going to attack the train at some point,
and try to bust him loose.
Awesome!
Right?
I'm sorry, how is that "awesome?"
Because, hic, pretty much my whole life I've
wanted to fight some guys on the roof of a speeding train.
Well if I know my boys, you may just get your wish, big guy.
Thanks, Freddy Foreshadowing.
Who is this?
Please tell me he's a renowned chicken-and-waffle chef.
Because.. I am starving.
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3x03 - The Limited -
- So listen, - you look like a pretty smart guy...
- Well thanks, - I like to think so...
- So why dontcha do yourself a pretty-smart-guy favor and just let me go?
- Uh, because - Ms. Archer would kill me?
Well what do ya think's gonna happen when my boys storm this train?
Oh, I'm not too worried about that.
Ya should be.
My boys are bad ass.
Well, so am -- Lana.
And I'm learning.
Oh, and don't forget about Archer.
The drunk guy?
He may have seemed drunk, but he's-- Still drinking?
Relax, Lana it's just a bloody mary.
And by the way, not a great one.
Mr. Vodka and Ketchup.
Archer, at any time in the next twelve hours this train could be
attacked by radical Nova Scotian separatists.
Armed with what?
Pamphlets about Canada's responsible gun control laws?
The New Scotland Front has guns,
and they're not afraid to use them, so -- So okay!
God, I'll switch to coffee.
Hey Heinz 56, can I get an Irish coffee.
No!
Lana, I have to taper off.
Trust me, if these Noma Scojens are a real threat, you do not want me hungover.
Do you even still get hangovers?
Normally no, but I drank about two gallons of
mamajuana this afternoon.
I was playing dominoes with a, Dominican bike gang, or was it Mahjong.
I don't remember.
Ridiculous!
This thing's a sardine can.
How are people supposed to travel like this?
Most people bring less luggage.
Most people fly.
So your days of sullen superiority are numbered.
I have no response to that.
They never do.
Now let's go find a bigger compartment.
I'm afraid there aren't any.
Nonsense, I'm sure there's one here somewhere.
Why are these all locked?
They're occupied.
So if you don't mind -- What I mind is your familiar tone, young man.
What's through here?
Those are private cars, ma'am.
What do you mean, "private?"
I mean they're not -- Not for you to be knocking on!
Now I have to insist that you -- Get yer panties untwisted!
- Damn... Wh-?
I knew it!
I want this train stopped immediately and this stowaway forcibly disembarked!
Afraid I can't do that, ma'am.
You can and you will, or I'll have your job!
No, she won't, George!
Carol?
What are you doing here?
Uh, trying to perform my ablutions?
But -- This is Miss Tunt's private car.
How do you have a private train car?
Uh, cause she owns the railroad?
Well, half.
And I knew you wouldn't let us go on this stupid trip to Canada, so I had my
cars hooked up.
Cars?
Plural?
This car, two sleeping cars, a private dining car,
and one that's just a teeny tiny skating rink.
Er, two sleeping cars?
Do you think there might be room for -- Nooope.
It's already cramped back there, what with that piss-reeking ocelot.
Plus George says you stiffed him.
Wh-?
No I didn't, I gave him a tip!
A stick of gum?
Well?
Really?
Did you not have a button?
You button it, missy!
Oh we don't know the meaning of private, lets all pile in.
Lana check it out!
Actual gas lamps!
Amazing, Archer, yes, so you think we can go guard the
prisoner now, or -- RROWR!
Is that Babou?
Or not.
Apparently.
Okay -- Wowww!
Lana!
Cyril!
Jesus!
Lana!
And Pam.
Lanaaaaa!
What?
He remembers me!
Cyril, why are you in here?
I didn't know where you guys were.
It doesn't matter where we are, Newb Gingrich --
Then get out!
where's the prisoner?
In my compartment.
- At least, he was... - Although he doesn't seem to be in here now.
No kidding.
Mmmmmm... nope.
ARCHER Lana!
Cyril!
- Oh my God... - Too late, he's gone.
Thanks to Cyril.
Well he's not gonna jump off a train going eighty miles an hour, so --
So, yeah.
We'll sweep car by car, moving from front to back.
Good, you guys do that, I'll get a big raw steak from the kitchen.
Are you talking about the ocelot?
Are you not?
I'm talking about the prisoner!
- Oh. - Well, maybe they're together.
Although I doubt it, Babou's kind of a loner.
Like Paul Newman in Hud.
If Paul Newman had constantly sprayed piss all over, um... oh what was her...
Patricia Neal!
Who I hate.
Sorry for the intrusion, folks.
Nothing to worry about, just some standard, um...train security.
Okay, that's all the regular cars.
Now we get to search all the sleeper cars, thanks to your incompetence.
Well you left me unsupervised.
So this is my fault?
Mmm, fifty-fifty?
Fifty-fifty you accidentally shoot somebody, Newb.
Now come on, it'll take us all night to search this damn train.
- Well, but with Archer helping... - I wouldn't exactly call it helping.
Here kitty kitty kitty.
Kitty?
Excuse me, is there an ocelot in there?
No no no, what're you doing?
Besides making a ms all over my train?
Looking for a terrorist and an ocelot-- What?
-- not necessarily in that order.
Okay that's it, we're stopping.
- Frank, this is George, we gotta... - Give me that!
He's gotta keep the train at top speed so they can't get off.
So tell him to keep it floored.
I will do no such thing.
Okay then here, hold this?
Why are you giving me a -- oh my!
Sorry, but I'm not letting a terrorist escape.
And obviously an ocelot wouldn't survive in the frozen wasteland
of upstate New York.
So.
Sorry Frank, uh, Miss Tunt says she wants to beat
the record run to Ottawa.
Those crazy Tunts.
Okay, hang on...
Jesus!
- Boys, hang on a sec... - Okay boys, make sure you bring the heavy
stuff, cause these crazy ISIS bastards aren't playing...
They just killed a black guy.
I know, right?
Welcome to America.
How is that racist?
Never mind, look -- I treat all servants exactly the same,
regardless of their race.
Hang on, I hear freedom ringing.
At worst I'm elitist.
But not racist.
Whatever.
Cyril and I searched the front half of the train, but we didn't see any sign of
Bilcoe, okay so -- I bet it's hard to see
- anything from that high horse... - So.
- Unless Archer found Bilcoe in the back half of the train... - Which, no,
he didn't.
Jeezy Petes!
Archer!
Is that blood?
What?
Oh.
Yeah, but it's from a cow.
You shot a cow?
And Bilcoe's not in the back half, so you guys must've missed him.
Which, no, we didn't.
Which, yes, obviously you did -- Or you did.
Because there's no way he got off, we're moving too fast.
Oh my God we totally are!
We might beat the record run!
You guys probably don't understand because don't own a railroad?
But it's actually a pretty huge deal.
To whom?
Railroad owners?
We're a pretty competitive bunch.
No, Pam!
No means no, now stop it!
Whatsa matter?
Ya chicken?
I'm in a wheelchair!
Ow!
Bawk bawk bawk bawk bawk bawk!
Ow!
Goddammit Pam I don't wanna race!
Couple skate?
I can't believe you have a skating rink train car.
Yeah, apparently my great-grampa was nuts for skating.
That and the Klan.
I -- okay, so let's try this again.
Car by car, this time back to front.
Good, because Miss Stingy here won't let me eat in her private dining car--
Oh my God we've been over thaaaat...
-- so when you pass the dining car, have a porter bring me a Cobb
salad.
Before or after we locate the dangerous terrorist?
Before.
Sorry folks, uh, go back to sleep.
Yeah, just disregard the gun-toting
spies and the blood smeared everywhere.
Oh yeah, keep an eye out for pawprints.
Where, in the blood?
Yeah, I assume at some point he'll come out to like... lick it.
Come on, we've only searched two cars,
so we've got a shitload to go.
Uh, speaking of, I need to make use of the facilities here...
Fine, but catch up, okay.
And pay attention.
Yeah, they look just like prints from a housecat,
only bigger and awesomer.
Go.
Hey, welcome to the bathroom.
Well, thank you.
No, no, wait, what're you -
Ungh!
I can tell you never played much hockey, huh?
Probably too busy runnin around shootin black guys.
What's the word, boys?
Fantastic!
They'll never see that coming!
I'll see ya at the border!
Archer, we don't have time for this.
It'll take like, two seconds!
God!
- Okay so, a Cobb salad... - I am not taking that woman a salad,
Cobb or otherwise.
George, trust me, you don't want to see my mother with low blood sug --
Wait, why are we slowing down?
We're at the border.
Of?
Uh, this new place, called Canada?
So?
So, customs, passport control, immigration?
You know, the border?
Yeah, but... with America.
They still guard the border!
Lana, we're going into Canada!
Okay, can you please explain to him-- Don't do that.
Okay, already knowing your answer, I'm going to ask, "Don't do what."
Make this a weird racial thing.
- I knew, and yet I asked... - What, I just don't wanna be ganged up
on!
George, back me up here.
I'm gonna back way up, and not be in here when the
mounties catch you crazy people with all those guns.
Oh, shit.
What, they're Canadian, they don't even know what a gun -- oh, shit!
He said, realizing that -- That what's the perfect
disguise for some terrorists who want to board a train to bust
loose another terrorist?
Oh, shit!
The -- Royal Canadian Mounted Police, folks.
Please have your passports and declarations forms out and ready.
Ready?
Yeah, but what if they're like, actual real mounties?
Well, not to belabor the point, but they'd still be Canadian.
i.e., I doubt we're in any real danger.
Okay, here goes...
Freeze!
Hands up!
Get 'em up!
I swear to God if any of you Canadian fruitcakes move I
will shoot that stupid hat right off your head.
That, that's not okay.
Get 'em up Dudley Douchebags!
Maintain the right, boys.
Whoa, dude, we're serious, we'll shh --
iiiiiiit!
God damn it, Archer!
What, Lana?
You are so!
Stupid!
Thinking terrorists would be disguised as -- Royal Canadian Mounted Police!
Stand down, boys!
We're mounties!
Piss off!
We're mounties!
Great, good, we're all mounties, so no need for a Mexican
standoff, eh?
Oh yah, hooz aboota co-opt s'moor American stoof there, eh, Cahnada?
Stuff like Mexican standoff?
- Oh, look at that, the race card... Wh-?
Let's all just put down the guns, boys!
C'mon, we're not Americans!
RRROWR!
Unvaccinated animal!
Put him down, boys!
No!
Serpentine, Babou!
RROWR!
Aw jeez, he sprayed me!
That reeks!
Did he get away?
Ya, ugh, he ran right oat past us!
Good.
Then screw this.
Please tell me that's a smoke grenade.
Okay.
It's not, though.
Whooo
Hoh-lee -- -- shitsnacks!
What was that?
Probably my stomach growling.
I am literally starving to death.
I don't care, Frank!
We are gonna beat that record, so put this stupid train in...
train-gear, and jam it!
Rrgh!
- I'm surrounded by mediocrity... - In what way?
In what possible way did that work?
- Umm A, they're all incapacitated... - And B,
I got to blow up a train.
Well thanks, Gomez -- Nice.
But that doesn't help us find Bilcoe!
He's right there, stupid.
Wh-?
Jesus boys, what happened?
I happened.
Drop it, Bilcoe.
You drop it, ya racist bastard!
Gagh!
Oww!
Wait, how am I a racist?
Really?
Shut up and come on and shut up!
Wait, we don't know which Mounties are the real ones!
What do we do?
Archer!
I'm kidding!
Jesus Lana... Hey, good guys and bad guys!
All of you just got a pretty huge pass, so don't make me regret it later!
Deal?
Come on!
I'm taking that as tacit agreement!
Cyril, what the hell are you doing?
Being blind!
Oh my God, I'm blind!
Sweater!
Huh?
Oh.
When will you not suck at this?
When you don't suck at... shut up!
Go ahead shoot me.
It's better than starving to death.
Everybody shut up!
And then somebody get over here to be my hostage!
Oh for -- way to man up, Ray!
Wh-?
I'm in a wheelchair!
Yeah, no offense but we're gonna be, ya know, running around and stuff?
Uh, no!
You're not!
Uh, yeah!
I am!
Everybody okay?
Yeah, I think so.
Yeah.
Paralyzed, but other than that, fine. Yeah.
- Okay, then Lana, you guard them... - Okay, what's the plan.
And Cyril, you keep sliding down the learning curve like the Banana Splits.
And what are you gonna do?
I am going to fulfill my lifelong dream.
Meeting Mr. Greenjeans?
Snap out of it, boys!
Bilcohhhhhh!
I could use some help on the roof!
Oh my God, this is gonna be awwshiiiit!
Owww!
The dust!
It's like being shot in the eyes by a... glittergun!
There, that oughta do it.
Okay, let's try that agawwwshiit!
Retinas!
Seared, like tuna steaks!
All I want is to fight on top of a train!
Is that too much to ask?
The good news, is now I'm furious.
So, rethinking this, huh?
On top of the train you're still like, on the train,
plus you got all -- oh shit!
Plus you got all that.
Oh shit. Whyyyyyyyyy-- -- do people do this?
You're still just on the train.
I know, right?
Although, I guess sometimes there's a helicopter?
Do you have a helicopter?
Mmmmmm... nope.
Just a gun.
It's empty, dickhead.
Yeah nice try, super-dickhead.
What the...?
You fired eight rounds, ultradickhead.
Am I the only person who ever keeps track of that, -- oww!
- Wow, and I thought I was mad before... - Why,
didja see some old black lady sittin in the front of a bus?
What is your deal with calling me a racist?
Well A, you're American -- That's, oh shit, racists
jingoist, whatever!
And B, you murdered the porter!
Wh-?
No I didn't!
You shot him!
There was blood everywhere!
That was from a steak, you idiot!
I was trying to catch an ocelot!
In Canada?
And I'm the idiot?
Hold it right there, boys!
Royal Canadian Mounted Police!
Dammit, who are the real ones?
Guess that's for me to know and you to find out.
Well I'm gonna find out in like five -- RRROWR!
Babou!
He's corpuscular!
Get him, boys!
Nooooo!
Babou, serpentiiiiiiine!
- Yeah, so... - So yeah, put that in your little secret
agent notebook, along with "don't leave prisoners unsupervised."
There's absolutely no reason to ever get on top of a moving train.
Wait, what if there's a helicopter?
Ooh, yeah, or a dragon!
Ooh, yeah, or some sarcasm!
Ooh, yeah, or hang on!
What?
Waaaaagh!
Aaaaaa... ungh!
Babooooo!
That's right, buddy, I goww oww oww oww oww, Babou no!
Owww!
RRROWWRR!
Oh come on, I wouldn't say it was a complete failure...
Oh, really?
And what parts of this mission would you call a success?
- Well, let's see... - Maybe the part
where my non-recordbreaking train is totally shit-housed?
- Not as shit-housed as my spleen... - Ooh,
or maybe the part where the mounties will never hire ISIS again!
What's it matter, we're all banned from Canada.
- Au revoir, sweet man-whores of Montreal... - Ugh.
Lana?
You were saying?
- Ah, well, we did help with a major arrest... - Kenny Bilcoe,
you're under arrest for violation of sections one through nine of the Canadian
Terrorism Act, buddy.
Sorry to cut into yer donut supply, boys.
Long live free Nova Scotia!
- Oh wait, make that five... - Same goes for you bastards!
Plus impersonating an RCMP constable!
That's not fair, you're doin it!
Oh, wait!
- I guess make that six... - And besides
attempted murder on a black guy, you're under arrest for
violating the Exotic Fish and Wildlife Importation Act.
- Yeah whatever, Dudley Douchebag... - Plus you already
used that once.
It was good enough to merit seconds!
You hear that?
They called you exotic!
RROWR!
Which is just people talk for awesome, which is what you are,
which is why I was happy to save your life, buddy.
Rrowr?
No don't worry, probably just thousands of dollars in fines,
maybe a little jail time, hopefully just probation.
Totally worth it.
Rrowr?
No, Babou.
That was all sarcasm.
Rrowr?
Yes, all of it!
You fox-eared asshole!
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