Archer (2009–…): Season 11, Episode 2 - Bloodsploosh - full transcript

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.

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?

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"

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?


So I guess,
here's to backup plans.


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.

Dear god, stop stuffing
your face like a refugee.

It's called carb-loading,

- Mmm.
- For what?

Karate island.


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?


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?



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?
- 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.


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.


Feels like a dark line
to cross, Lana.

Sorry, not what I meant.

Let's just focus on our jobs.


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


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,

That hopefully included

your dumb ass turning around.



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...


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.


- Pam, come in.
- What the...

It's a new microburst ear

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.

- 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.


- What?
- "Disaccomplished"?

What happened?

I remembered NewbetterCheryl

doesn't drug random people

Oh, just shut up.

Clearly, I have to do
everything around here.

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

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.


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?


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.

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.

Really getting killed out there.

Well, in the meantime...


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.


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.


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.



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?



Uh... Pamela.

So glad you came.


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.


but if you scratch that cane,

it will literally end up
inside your...



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...



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!


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...

all over the damn place?

Damn it!


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.



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!


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?


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?


Made in Georgia.