Item four: Our contact in the Sudan called.
- He wants to know... - Why the hell you started without me?
Well, which part of "9:00 a.m. sharp" confused you?
- Most of it, obviously. - Yeah.
- It was pretty clear to the rest of us. - Who clearly didn't have
the shitty morning I've had, Lana.
Without pata negra ham,
it's not really eggs woodhouse, now, is it?
- Well, sir, culatello ham is actually... - It's a different pig,
from a different country, raised on a different diet!
The takeaway here is, you're fired.
It's a little thing called "being on timing"-ness.
Oh, and I thought it was called
- "who cares"-ness. - Things have changed.
Briefings start at 9:00 a.m.,
and I expect everyone front and center.
How, when I have to park, like, a gajillion miles away
because Cyril's vasectomy on wheels
is in my goddamn parking space?
It's been mine for quite some time.
And you don't need it anyway, dear,
- now that you can use the... - A-da-da...
Handicap space. What?
Oh, and speaking of...
- You trashed my car? - "Trashed" is a strong word, Cyril.
- Listen... - Accurate, but strong.
- You're gonna pay for that. - Uh, literally, or figuratively?
- Maybe we try both. - Oh, like as in, over my dead...
Not now.
Body, in case you were wondering
- where I was going with... - Oh, for the love of...
- Krieger? - If this is about
a package that just arrived, super don't open it.
- What? - Nothing.
Thanks to you, Sterling just zapped himself to death
all over my carpet!
Uh, no. I specifically designed it
so the voltage wouldn't kill him.
Just maybe put him back in a coma,
so you can study his brain?
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Are you kidding me?
We have our own jet now?
Well, the agency has become quite profitable
- ever since your... accident. - Some might even say "because of."
Well, either way, you can thank me
- by telling me where the drinks are. - It's a dry plane.
Shut up, Cyril. That's not a thing.
Uh, we sort of have an unspoken policy
against the whole "shut up" thing.
Hmm, but no policy on coma-jacking parking spots?
- Be that as it may... - Strong priorities.
Be that as it may, we've instituted a strict
no drinking on duty policy...
- with certain limited exceptions. - Well, un-limit them,
because I'm trying to prepare for a mission.
That involves us going to a secret island
to infiltrate an underground martial arts tournament
hosted by black market arms dealer Win Li
and smuggle him back to the U.S. ...
- In a fit of irony? - To stand trial,
so it's important we take him alive.
- You got it? - Chong Li, karate island,
- hadouken, got it. - Nope.
Oh, for chrissakes, this was all covered in the damn briefing.
Which you were late to and then nearly died during.
- Mm-mm. So "disprofessional." - Yeah, does this mean
briefings are gonna start being fun again?
- Absolutely not! - Aww.
Krieger's flying the damn plane,
and we're supposed to be not drinking?
- Right? - Wait, we're not?
- Krieger! - So I guess, here's to backup plans.
No. NewbetterCheryl doesn't do that.
New, better Cheryl? What the hell's that?
I don't know! But she does very good typings
and many important non-burny things.
Well, not me, so don't mind if I do.
Hey, I was toasting and/or taunting you, Pam,
- not offering. - Agree to disagree.
Oh, man.
Pretty sure I have the world's first
- karate island boner. - Could you not?
We try to keep things professional around here.
Fine, god. How about "work-related erection"?
More like, maybe try not talking
- about your erection at all. - I... don't know how.
Welcome, everyone, to the twelfth annual
Dragon fire kumite!
Fighters, head to registration, and everyone, please enjoy
the loggerhead turtle sliders.
They're almost extinct because they're so tasty!
Mmm, he wasn't kidding. These things are amazing.
Oh, put that away. I'm allergic to loggerhead.
Along with cat dander and motherly affection?
- Got it. Mmm. - Dear god, stop stuffing
- your face like a refugee. - It's called carb-loading, mother.
- Mmm. - For what?
- Karate island? - Actually,
we'll be entering Cyril to fight in the tournament.
Officially ending the search for your long -lost sense of humor.
- It's just, Cyril's a bit more... - I think the term
you're looking for is fully functioning!
- How do I look? - You mean besides like you've got
the world's first black belt in tax law?
Right?
We get it. You finally exercised.
Stop being such a dick about it.
Ignore him, Cyril. You'll do fine.
Which is more than I can say for... whatever this is supposed to be.
- It's called undercover. - As opposed to vaguely racist?
Vaguely?
- Ow! - Mission focused, young lady.
- You hear me? - Well, not out of this damn ear.
Oh, wait, that's better.
What? She stole my flask, mother.
- I'm the victim here. - Your job is to stick to the plan.
Stick to the plan. Got it.
- I'll do a manhattan on the rocks. - Oh, for the love of...
I want mission focus.
- Jesus. - Sync on me in three,
- two, one... - Wait, sync on what?
Mark.
- Mark? - I want comms checks...
- Wait, who's mark? - And everyone in position
in two minutes. Now move out!
I'm starting to feel like I maybe missed a meeting.
Okay. Once we get past the guards,
we trigger the halon system,
filling this place with a cloud of gas,
and then we whisk Win Li away in the chaos.
Right. So, uh, where are we on that refill?
Not really part of what we're doing.
It's called tradecraft, Lana.
You even care about blowing your cover?
I think your tradecraft's a tad rusty.
Oh, so we're making fun of my coma now.
- Archer... - Feels like a dark line to cross, Lana.
Sorry, not what I meant.
- Let's just focus on our jobs. - Exactly. So yeah,
lighter on the vermouth this time.
And when you bring him his drink, slip this into it.
Now careful. That's highly concentrated
penzodiazepine.
Oh, you mean a booster buddy!
Don't worry, newbetterCheryl
totally stopped taking these twice a day.
Twice? How are you still even alive?
Thanks to Jesus. He's the Costa Rican guy
- I used to pay to pump my stomach. - Just get it done.
Yeah, good luck with that.
Seriously, what's he so worked up about?
How the hell should I know?
I don't speak angry-as-shit... Mandarin?
- I'm just the trainer. - Cleverly disguised as a drunk moron.
Who could still whip your bony ass.
Speaking of, how about you tag me in for a few rounds?
Feeling a little frisky.
This is why we don't drink on duty, Pam.
We had a detailed mission plan, and...
That hopefully included
- your dumb ass turning around. - Hyah!
Great.
- I know, right? - No, I mean there are more guards now...
who are apparently easily distracted.
Let's move. Now.
- Archer. - Uh, hang on.
- Archer! - What?
I'm easily distracted, too, Lana.
- I'm trying to watch Cyril... - Hi-yah!
Weirdly not getting his ass kicked.
- Well, so much for... - Parking spot schadenfreude.
And more importantly,
for our chance to just walk right on in there.
- Unless... Pam, come in. - What the...
- It's a new microburst ear transmitter. - I know, dummy.
Why don't I have one in my ear?
Uh, because you're not in tactical command?
But a cocktail waitress is? That makes zero sense.
- Ugh. Just... Pam, come in. - All right, all right.
Hold your damn horses.
Mr. Hogging-the-ring wants some water.
And she's drunk. Happy now?
That you have space ears and I don't?
- You tell me, Lana. - Space ears?
In my coma, we were in space,
and we put that word in front of, like, everything.
It was pretty space great.
Ugh. I told Malory bringing you was a bad idea.
Oh, why is that? Because it conflicted
- with your new life plan to avoid me? - No. Wait, what?
I'm not trying to stay away from you.
Please. Staying away is all
you've been doing since the coma, Lana.
- Oh, that's ridiculous. - It's okay. I get it.
It's obvious you don't trust yourself around me.
Wait, what?
- Why wouldn't I? - Oh, well, I'll, uh, give you a hint.
The answer rhymes with "my throbbing sexuality."
All right. Glass joe here is good to go.
- What's up? - Oh, me?
Just reeling from blunt force sexual imagery.
Hey, Lana says keep the fight going until their signal.
You got that?
Well, in the hands of a lesser fighter...
Which, compared to me, you totally are.
Come on, Cyril. Give mama a turn.
Pam, you're drunk.
Since when's that a damn problem?
- Mission accomplished. - Good.
- Oh, wait. Non-accomplished. - What?
- "Disaccomplished"? - What happened?
I remembered newbetterCheryl
- doesn't drug random people anymore. - Oh, just shut up.
Clearly, I have to do everything around here.
Ooh. Don't look now, but I think
- a certain someone is into... - Necrophilia?
- My husband's older, not dead. - It's the same thing, Lana.
Unlike the sex, which we both know
- was way better with me. - You know, it's hard to call it better
when you hate yourself afterwards.
And yet, you kept coming back for more,
thereby proving how irresistible I am.
Wait, Lana, shut up.
- Check it out. Thank you. - Hey! What the hell are you doing?
Restoring balance to the universe, Lana.
What's it look like?
This is Sterling Archer, tactical commander, not Lana,
who, side note, is basically begging
- to have sex with me right... ow! - Will you just come on?
The hell kind of girls' prison did you learn to fight in?
Come on, tag me in.
What the... this isn't pro wrestling!
I must say, your fighter has been quite impressive.
- He better be. - That man he's fighting
usually has a killer right hook,
and that's not a euphemism for anything.
People die all the time.
Oh, wait. There it is.
Oh, sorry. Work. Yhellow.
Defective, my ass.
Hey, Yuri, try standing on one of those land mines,
and you'll see how not defective they are.
Mm, sorry. Where were we?
So let me get this straight.
In your sick little world, every moment I'm with you,
I'm basically a nanosecond away from ripping off my clothes,
jumping your bones, and ruining my life?
- Your words. - Not how that phrase works.
Though it's apparently how being obsessed with me works.
- Damn it, Archer! - What?
We don't just go around shooting people anymore.
- Why not? - Because...
That's literally 95% of the job.
W-w-we try to use nonlethal force now.
It's called a license to kill, Lana,
not a license to gently subdue.
Is this funny to you?
- Not you, idiot. That. - Jesus christ, Archer.
Did you forget to call Pam
and tell her we're past the guards?
- Sure, let's go with that. - Call her, goddamn it. He's...
Really getting killed out there.
Well, in the meantime...
Yhellow? Whoa, whoa, whoa, Raoul.
No one ever said that bazooka could sink a cruise ship.
You want to take out a cruise ship, I can sell you
something to take out a cruise ship, you kook!
Okay, I'll see you in Kiev.
- Sorry, where were we? - I was just about to suggest
- we freshen our refreshments. - Mm, I like where this is going.
- Wait, as in sex, right? - If you play your cards right.
Ah, and the delicate foreplay dance begins.
Hey!
Whatever happened to "no more personal calls, Cheryl.
"No more four-hour lunches, Carol.
No more shoving your fingers in"...
Pam, get Lana on comms and tell...
Jesus Christ. Like beating a dead horse out there.
Pam... get Lana on the...
talk box thing and tell her...
What do you mean, you can't call?
Mm, there's no signal down here.
- Oh, idiot. - Idiot?
I didn't invent how cement walls work, Lana.
- What? - The hell?
Okay, yeah, so... Oh, I'm just gonna...
I'm just gonna go ahead and...
That's it. Calling my own number.
Yah!
Whoo! Big mama's handing out biscuits, baby!
Ah, you dare interfere
with the Dragon fire kumite?
Well, somebody had to spice up this snooze-fest.
Oh, then by rule, you must duel to the death
with the legendary Dragon fire!
Conway Stern?
- Take... me! - Uh... Pamela.
- So glad you came. - Twice.
- Tum-tum feeling better? - Nice tone, Lana...
but yes, thank you for asking.
Okay, I've got an idea.
Maybe try glaring at me tons more, Lana.
Maybe that'll get us out of here.
Oh, I'm sorry. Was I glaring?
I thought I was just looking at the idiot who got us caught!
Well, with your resting bitch face...
Hey, asshole!
No talking till Mr. Li gets here to kill you...
with a bazooka, like you are cruise ship.
Fine, but if you scratch that cane,
- it will literally end up inside your... - Asshole.
Yeah. I probably deserve that.
- I bet you miss me, though. - Not even close, bud.
You know what you could've gone with right there is,
"Glenn Close, but no cigar."
Well, you're about to have a dangerous liaison...
- with my fist! - Oh, my, my, my.
Looks like a... reversal of fortune.
Are you starting to feel a... fatal attraction?
No, it's more like... hook!
Uh... Resting what face?
- I'm not at all sure I follow. - Bitch.
- Pardon? - I believe you said "resting bitch face."
Uh, honestly, I feel like I would remember that.
Ah, good. I must've misheard you.
I guess that means I don't have to do this.
- Goddamn it. - Hey, I told you...
Son of a bitch!
Problem?
Well, not if you stand still
- for, like, two freaking seconds. - Yeah, I hear you.
I'm kind of like a... uh... I'm like a...
- Muhammad all over the damn place? - Damn it!
Go!
Hey, Lana, how's the "non-murdering
bad guys" thing going?
Well, like everything else you touch,
it's kind of turned to shit.
Oh, my god! Did you just see that?
Full-on midair head shot!
- That was so pre-coma me. - Yeah, just like being pinned down,
about to die, and it's all your fault
feels pretty pre-coma you also.
Right? Although...
that's kind of new.
- Don't move! - Lana, am I still in a coma?
What are you... no. God damn it, no.
Damn, because this is gonna hurt.
Any last words, big mama?
Yeah, they rhyme with go fu...
You have got to be kidding me!
Oh, how you like that, Daniel Day-loser?
As in "my left foot." yeah, yeah, that's pretty good.
Ah, just like we planned.
But you haven't seen the last of Conway Stern!
Ow.
Which... is it my real name? I'll never tell you!
Oh, my god, this hurts so much more than losing the hand.
- Good news! - Dear god.
OldwaybetterCheryl is so back.
- From where, a truck stop bacchanalia? - Uh, sure, let's go with that.
And where the hell have you been?
Uh, this new place called almost dying.
- Hardly. - You!
You've ruined my entire operation!
Oh, go stuff a sock in it!
Swear to Christ, I have to do everything around here.
Now clean this up!
Hey, where the hell's Cyril?
- Hello? - Oh, for the love of...
you forgot one!
Sorry, Mother. Mission focused.
Your words. Can't go back.
Christ, Archer, did you leave him
just to get your parking space back?
No.
_
sync & correction by f1nc0 ~ Addic7ed.com ~
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