Schenectady?
You're in Schenectady?
After all your naggy lectures about how I need to stop micromanaging ISIS?
You do. And this is macro-managing.
Come on, some things I gotta do myself.
Mr. Archer's on Line 2. I'm on the phone.
Yeah, duh, Line 2. Wha--?
Mother? Sterling--
Don't talk, just listen. My cover's blown and I need an extraction.
Oh, my-- Wait, extraction? From where?
Montreal. Long story, but my money and passport were confiscated, so--
So where in Montreal exactly? Um...
Like, the GPS coordinates or--?
Confiscated by whom? A croupier? No.
Or a herd of Quebecker whores? I wouldn't say "herd."
Well, after you get some free penicillin...
...compliments of the Socialist Republic of Canada--
Really? You can extract yourself, mister.
Mother, I don't have a passport-- Don't get me wrong, I respect that.
But comparing ISIS to six Cadillac dealerships...
...is like comparing apples to six Cadillac--
Ron! What?
Sterling is stranded at the Montreal Casino with his pockets turned out and--
And this is just speculation, --some new drug-resistant form of VD.
Really? And you're in Schenectady again!
I'll be home tonight. Oh, I know. Because what's tonight?
Uh... Tuesday night?
Box seats for the opening of Carmen at the Met.
Babe, come on, I promise, H! be there.
Well, if you're not, you can just not bother coming home at all.
1.- Trouble on the old home front?
Oh, for the-- Eavesdrop much?
Scream into a speakerphone much?
- Pam? - What?
You want us to wear earplugs every time you're on the damn-- Ah!
Ooh. Or helmets.
It is just idiots all the way down.
And his money, I get it, that's all craps and whores.
But his passport? How the hell did he lose his passport?
Because shut up. Because I don't need it.
Because I'd never go...America, okay? Because...
It's my third biggest fear.
He brings home a whore and says, "We're married."
Oh, and the whore has bangs.
Ugh. Thank God I don't have to worry about anything like that with Ron.
"Hi, I'm Ron Cadillac, a.k.a. Mr. Boring."
Jesus God, what am I doing with--?
Ron Cadillac...
...they don't make the rules, you do.
Well, obviously they do make the rules. That's why it's come to this.
Which is why Ron Cadillac is opting out.
And also why Ron Cadillac is gonna swing by Montreal on his way home.
Because Ron Cadillac is freaking epic!
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What?
- I will accept the charges. What? - Carol, hey, shut up.
I need you to go down to Western Union and wire me a thousand dollars.
Wow.
Yeah. No.
Yes! No!
Oh, for-- Then just let me talk to Pam.
Ha, ha, ha. Absolutely not.
Huh? Because pick any one of an infinite number of reasons.
Yeah, okay, hang on.
Yeah, no, I would, but I can't really leave the lab at the moment.
But I can transfer you.
Ha, ha. No, I seriously thought you were joking.
Yeah, hang on.
Okay. Okay, let me talk to Lana.
You know there is a line?
There's gonna be a line at your wake, so shut your poutine hole--
No. Lana?
Lana, listen, I-- No.
Need you to-- No.
Stop saying no. No, Archer. No.
And it's gonna sound like I'm hanging up, but--
Why do you casser le telephone?
Because I'm out of people to call.
Even Woodhouse wouldn't help me.
What do you mean, no? I basically own you.
And I basically own him.
Jesus, this is actually almost depressing.
Need a ride, champ?
Although not as depressing as Ron. What the hell are you doing here?
Giving you a ride home. Come on, hop in.
What, did my mother send you?
No, not exactly. I just thought it'd give us a chance to bond.
Yeah, don't take this the wrong way, Ron, but I'd rather bond with a C.H.U.D.
But C.H.U.D.'s live in New York, so let's go.
What the hell is a C.H.U.D.?
They were people, but then they got splashed with toxic waste.
Ah, that's a load of crap. It's a movie.
But those baby alligators people flush down there, now that's--
Ron, seriously, at some point I'm gonna have to take a shit, so--
So why didn't you go before we left? Not now, in the future.
And I won't be able to if I'm thinking about giant alligators...
...rampaging up into my toilet.
Oh. Talk about tearing you a new one.
Ha, ha, ha. For the love of Christ, man, stop!
I meant stop talking about ass-ripping sewer-gators.
Ha, ha. Yeah, I know. Yeah, I know.
So? He asked, incredulously.
You said you didn't have a passport.
So? He asked, equally incredulously.
So that. Oh.
So...? And that's not sarcastic incredulity.
I honestly wanna hear your thoughts on getting me across.
Why not? Because what if they check the trunk?
Well, why would they? Because that's exactly their job.
Yeah, on the Mexican border. Who the hell's gonna sneak in from Canada?
Hm.
Arctic wolves? And even if you had a passport...
...what if they checked you for a gun? You do have a gun, don't you?
Yeah, I-- Yeah, so maybe keep it handy.
What? Wait, why would--? Ron?
Ron.
Ron! What?
Oh.
Uh-- Never mind, I got it.
Ron, let me out of the goddamn trunk!
We passed the border an hour ago!
Actually, more like three hours.
Well, apparently I took a nap.
Probably all this carbon dioxide.
It's actually monoxide.
Ugh! Whichever of carbon's many oxides. Just let me out.
I got a bitch of a headache and a bladder full of bourbon.
Just hang on!
They always hit me between Schenectady and Albany.
Who hits you? The, uh... Those guys.
What the shit? Ron!
Yeah, all right, so listen. Remember when I said maybe keep your gun handy?
Yeah, vaguely. Well, the thing is--
What's the thing, Ron?
Oh. Never mind.
Goddamn it, Ron, keep it straight!
Ha, ha, ha. Whoo!
Did you--? Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Ron, compensate!
I am compensating! Compensate!
No, no, no, look out, you're--!
Overcompensating.
Is what I was gonna say.
Right before I was thrown clear of the vehicle, almost exactly 100 linear feet.
Give me a break, huh? That wasn't my fault.
Yeah, no, I mean, obviously, this was all due to the butterﬂy effect.
The what? Butterfly effect.
You know, a butterfly in Africa lands on a giraffe's nose...
...the giraffe sneezes, that spooks a gazelle...
...the gazelle bonks into a rhinoceros...
...and the rhinoceros blindly stampedes into a phone booth...
...calls New York somehow and says, "Hey, go kill this idiot Ron for a suitcase!"
Because the rhinoceros speaks English!
What's in the suitcase, Ron?
Why is that in the suitcase, Ron?
What, I should use a plastic bag? Or this new thing called the bank.
Yeah, well, it's not exactly "clean money."
- "No, shit." - No, I'm serious.
Name one, just one single favor, that Archer ever did for any of you.
Um... Oh. Oh, my God, chlamydia.
Which put me over my deductible, so the rest of the year all my doctor visits...
- ...were totally free. Score. Right? - Wow.
How much did you go to the damn doctor? I don't know, like, a lot.
I kept getting chlamydia. Ow!
Get off, chlamydiot!
Oh, I get it, because of the chlamydia.
Oh, and I'm an idiot.
Because, of course, you keep getting robbed.
Why are you driving around with dirty money?
Well, it's kind of a long story.
Well, we've got all day. Nobody's gonna pick us up.
We look like The Ballad of the Flim-Flam Man.
The what? Guy Owen? Jesus, Ron, read a book.
Maybe between biannual suitcase robberies.
I don't know who keeps tipping them off. And anyway, you mean semiannual.
They're the same thing. No, biannual means every two years.
That's biennial.
Bi or semiannual means every six months.
Oh, uh-- Then, yeah, biannually.
Or semi.
Speaking of...
Manhattan, yes. Yes, thank you.
And you're sure you can get us there by 7?
Yeah, just hop on in the back there. What, like the "back" back?
Yeah, sorry, y'all, can't ride in the cab.
Insurance bullshit. Compliments of them democratic queers in Congress.
Or whomever.
Okay, things are looking up.
No, no, no, hey, come on, don't do that.
You're gonna get him in trouble. Ron, nobody's gonna miss one beer.
Or the 11 more I'm gonna drink. Come on, he's an independent trucker.
A small business owner, out here busting his hump to provide for his family.
Now, I'm telling you, guys like him are the lifeblood of America.
Not to mention he's driving us nonstop straight to Manhattan.
Exactly, which should take about three hours...
...which equals 12 beers.
Ugh. Okay, here's your fur coat from the world's farthest-away cold storage.
Did they tell you to put it in a headlock?
No. Well?
I don't know. They were, like, Persian. Uh--
You lost me.
Cadillac's not my real last name.
I, uh-- Well, yeah, I figured the odds on that were pretty huge.
I changed it from Kazinsky.
And before I sold cars, I stole them.
Heh, heh. You what? Ha, ha. I mean, this was years and years ago.
Me, Tony, Donny, hey, hey, Joey and Fat Mike.
That was my crew. And, kiddo, we would boost anything on wheels.
One time, you know, not even on wheels. Ha, ha, ha.
That was '45, though. That didn't hurt the war effort.
Anyhoo, one day it dawns on me, we're doing at! this work...
...but the guys making the real money own the chop shops.
So, uh, we revised our business model.
For a few years, let me tell you, kid, we were going gangbusters.
Until one day, Pm out getting meatball subs for the crew, and boom...
...cops got all of them.
Oh, Fat Mike too? RON". All of them.
And they all got 20 years, because not one of them...
...not one of them gave me up.
Anyway, I used our stash to buy a legit used car lot...
...then my first dealership, and eventually--
Six, yeah, got it.
So the money is...
The least I can do. It's like back pay for all the years they lost.
Plus most of it is from charging poor saps for that freaking undercoating.
Never get the undercoating.
But I still don't know who keeps hiring goons to stick me up.
Yes, you do. What are you talking about?
Ron, who hasn't been complaining about not getting his money?
Son of a-- Fat Mike!
Oh, man, wait till the crew hears this.
He'll be eating his meatball subs through a straw.
Wow, and here Mother thinks you are hands-down the most boringest man...
...on this entire planet of Earth. Wh--?
She said that'? I mean...
He is hands-down the most boringest man...
...on this entire planet of Earth.
Not in those exact words, but-- She thinks I'm boring?
Well, not after you tell her you stole a Sherman tank, Master P.
No, no, no! You can never tell her about that.
I'm serious, about any of it.
None of it!
Do you hear me? Okay.
That's all behind me. I'm almost completely legit now.
You gotta promise you're not gonna tell her.
Okay, I promise.
Not that I'll ever get the chance.
Hey, guys.
If that's, you know, how you self-identify.
Wow, okay, so...
...apparently we have stumbled into...
...what I'm just gonna assume...
...is some kind of unspeakably rapey, snuff film.
Yep, look at that. There's even a craft services table.
But my, uh... Stepdad.
...mother's husband has to be back in time for the opera.
I know, rich people problems.
So even though all you guys have bats and pipes and--
Wow. Shorty over there's got a club with lumps on it...
...kicking it Bedrock style.
Does anybody have a gun?
Anybody'? Gun?
Probably looks a little something like this? No?
Oh, okay, so I guess just me, then.
Now, for various reasons, which frankly don't concern you...
...we can't call the police, so we're just gonna go, but--
What? No, no, no.
Screw that. Shoot these degenerate pricks.
Ron? Starting with C.W. McCall-Girl over there.
Ron. At least kneecap the sons of bitches.
Ron! What?!
What, are you out of bullets?
Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?
You saw me shoot the mob guys. So?
So it holds a finite number of bullets.
It's not a freaking phaser. A what?
Oh, my God! It's just like Carol said the old gypsy woman said!
Yeah, she said it would be like some freaky parallel universe...
...where John Waters directed The Road Warrior.
Uh-huh. Then what, they kill me? No. Shut up, that's the awesome part.
There it is.
Look, Ron, the train.
I gotta start going to that gypsy. We'll never...
We can't make it.
Yes, we can, if--
Damn it, if only there was a way to slow them down.
Make it rain? What am I, an Indian?
Pacman Jones! Oh.
Uh-uh. No. Yes, Ron.
You don't defy the gypsy.
What about my crew?
I've been ripped off the last three times. What are they supposed to live on?
What are they gonna live on if you're eaten by tranny bikers?
Ron, look.
We'd already be dead if they weren't in disturbingly sexy high heels.
Half. Okay, that's still a baller move.
Master P would totally be proud.
Or he'd release a diss track.
What does--? Half the time I don't even know what you're talking about.
Well, guess what, me neither.
Now, shut up and come on. We've got a train to catch.
Diss tracks. Jesus Christ, why did we even fight a war'?
Ron! What? I'm serious!
So is this train, asshole!
Oh, I'm the asshole?
It's-- Just get a running start.
I'm not jumping on that damn thing! Really?
How about now? Son of a--
Come on, run like you're younger. Unh!
Okay, now give me your hand. I can't!
Yes, you can!
Ah! Come on, grab it!
Grab it!
Well, now, hang on a second.
What are you doing?
Thinking about how much I hate it that Mother married you.
You don't hate it that she married me. No, yeah, Ron, I--
No, you hate it that she married anybody, because you want her all to yourself!
Ha, ha. What? Paging Dr. Bates. Dr. Norman Bates.
Hey, shut up! And also- Ew. And--
Sterling, please!
Oh, my God. Thank you, Sterling.
You're welcome. Shut up.
Norman Bates. You know--
I apologize, that was out of line.
But come on, you gotta admit, the relationship you two have is--
Unhealthy. No, Ron, I don't have to admit that, because--
Ugh. Okay, try not to ruin it this time.
Jesus. Yeah.
See how their legs broke? That's because they didn't use the parachute fall.
Which I don't have time to teach you-- Why would you want to?
L-- Because I take pride in my work?
Why would you wanna teach it to me at all?
Oh. Well, we gotta jump off the train. We gotta ju--
We just jumped on the train!
Yeah, and it's going about 20 miles an hour...
...and there goes a sign for Catskill, so--
So it'll take six hours to get home. If we don't get rousted by the bulls.
I also don't have time to teach you how to speak hobo.
Wait a minute, hang on.
Why would you want me to make it to the opera?
I don't know. Maybe you were right about a few things...
...and maybe you're good for Mother, and--
Maybe shut up before I lose my temper again.
I got a dealership in Catskill.
So we grab a Caddy and drive in style.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we could just make it.
But it's going too fast to jump off. Look at those poles zipping by.
No, no, no. Don't look at the poles. They give you a false perspective.
Try and focus on a distant landmark, like... Ah!
...ha, ha, ha, the ground. Whoo!
Hey, see how I did that?
Ron?
Seven-thirty. We just might make it. Now, you sure he's gonna be out there?
He better be.
Yeah, there he is.
Here you go, sir.
I took the liberty of taking in the jacket a bit, and--
Woodhouse. Yes, sir?
Doesn't even come close to making up for leaving me stranded in Montreal.
No, sir. So go get ready.
Your punishment will begin when I get back from dropping him off at the opera.
Wait, you think that's a good idea?
Ron, look, I know we accidentally bonded a little...
...but do not tell me how to discipline my servant.
No, I meant dropping me off. If your mother thinks we're all buddy-buddy--
Yeah, I mean, that would drive her insane.
Sometimes I think I should just run away.
But who would take me in?
No one, Woodhouse.
No one.
And just what in the hell is this?
Just dropping off my buddy, Ron.
Buddy? Why, how and since when?
Long story, babe.
Look, we really gotta hustle if we wanna make that curtain.
Yeah, and I gotta go make an old man eat a big bowl of spiderwebs.
See you, buddy.
Woodhouse, I'm gonna check that bowl.
Oh...
Good day.
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