Archer (2009–…): Season 11, Episode 3 - Helping Hands - full transcript

The agency attempts to steal experimental technology from a reclusive inventor, but they forget one vital item.

[tense music]

Pam: Once you get through
the northernmost skylight,

you're gonna crack it open
and slide on in there

like the old lambskin you found

in your best friend's
sister's purse‐‐

positioning you right above
the cedarwood coffee table.

‐ Okay, we're in.

‐ Body cams are online
and‐‐whoa, boy!

Cyril has not been skipping
leg day.

Cyril: Thank you, but focus.
Krieger: Yep, yep, yep!

The furniture and floor
are armed with timed



pressure‐sensitive alarms,
so on every surface,

you only have‐‐
both: Three seconds.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

‐ I can't believe we're at
the headquarters of Hands,

the greatest inventor
in history,

and I don't get to meet her.

‐ Listen, man,
we've all fallen for

a reclusive
billionaire‐tech genius.

‐ No, my lust for Hands
is a more advanced brain lust,

if you will.
‐ [laughing] Like a zombie?

‐ Is brain lust why you designed

your hologram girlfriend to have

the same proportions
as a Barbie?



Krieger: I'm looking for
someone who challenges me.

The only challenge with Mitsuko

is keeping her projector
from overheating.

‐ Jesus.
This is heavy.

Sure wish we could find
a strength‐boosting

exo‐suit to make this easier.

Krieger: Just through that
tunnel and into the vault,

and your wish
will soon be granted.

‐ Any sign of JUNO operatives
approaching?

Pam:
No sign of those dicks yet,

but let's steal the shit
we need and get the hell out

like it's one of Gillette's
dinner parties.

Lana: Copy that.
Starting descent now.

Cyril, do you have visual?
‐ [laughs nervously]

Affirmative.

‐ What the‐‐
man: Took you long enough.

[suspenseful music]

‐ What are you doing here?

‐ Why are you doing missions
without me?

‐ How did you even know
where we'd be?

‐ Because, Lana,
I'm the world's greatest spy.

‐ And how'd you get here
before us?

‐ God damn it, Cyril.
I just told you.

I'm the world's greatest spy.

‐ It is pretty impressive
you shut off

all the countermeasures
without our intel

so you could access the vault.

[alarm sounding]

[lasers whirring]

‐ The‐‐do what now?

♪ ♪

[main title theme]

♪ ♪

‐ Have you seen Sterling?

‐ I don't know.
Maybe. Probably... not.

Probably not.

‐ He was supposed to meet me
for lunch an hour ago,

and that idiot stood me up.

[jazzy music]

He should be here any minute.
‐ Yes, ma'am.

Would you like me to bring out
your seafood tower

when it's ready,
or shall we wait?

‐ If I wanted my food
to rot in the kitchen,

looking sad, I'd be ordering

a big bowl of you on your break.

[gulps]

Find Sterling,
tell him I'm here,

and then tell him I'm busy.

Oh.

And tell him that
the Buckley Bay oysters

are out of season after today,
and they were...

Archer: Unbelievable.

You're doing missions
without me?

‐ Because this is what happens
when you come along!

‐ None of this
would have happened

if you told me about
the goddamn mission.

‐ No, none of this
would have happened

if you weren't
a spoiled asshole.

‐ Let's all take a breath.

We can't change
what has already happened.

We must keep moving forward.

‐ He's right.
We just need to get there

and get the exo‐suit
before JUNO shows up.

‐ Okay, A, what's a JUNO?
And, B, what's Cyril doing?

‐ I'm using a mantra to help
remain focused on the present

and stay positive.
‐ Oh, my God, Cyril.

No one wants a life coach
whose entire life

has been a giant losing streak.

‐ JUNO is a rival spy agency
who started showing up

on our radar during your coma.

Pam: Speaking of JUNO,
I just set up a laser grid

around the perimeter
of the compound

to alert us when they arrive.

‐ You mean, if they arrive.
‐ Right.

And if they do show up,
we'll be out of here

because Krieger has us covered.

‐ Then does Krieger
want to explain

why I'm still on the floor,
using my turtleneck

as a $3,000 broom?

Krieger: Working on it,
but I'm gonna

need a retinal scan.

[exciting music]

♪ ♪

[technology whirs]

‐ Is it unsettling
to anybody else

how comfortable Cyril
is playing Jim Henson

with a dead guy?

[metallic scrape,
gears clicking]

[door hinges squeak]

‐ Archer, please stay outside.

You've made your point, okay?

We're sorry for doing missions
without you,

and we'll talk about everything
after this is over.

‐ But I‐‐
‐ You'll just get in the way.

‐ I'm only staying out here
because I'm proving a point

about what I'd rather do
than spend time with you two!

‐ [sobbing] I‐‐I've been
such a giving mother,

and all he does is take.
[sobs]

He's treating his new valets
better than me.

‐ And he's fired all of them.

‐ I was literally
right by his side

throughout his entire coma,

and he can't even make it
to a lunch.

‐ [mouth full] I mean‐‐

[spits, gasping]

‐ What is wrong with you?

‐ Oh, my God!
I must be going into

anaphylactic shock!

Get one of the needles
in the blue bag

in my desk
and stick it in my neck!

Wait.
No!

The needle's in the red bag!
[choking]

‐ You're not allergic
to shellfish.

That's Pam, you idiot.

‐ Oh.

‐ Speaking of Pam...

why hasn't anyone from
the mission checked in?

This isn't like them.
‐ [laughs]

Mm, yes.

But can you still inject me
with one of those needles?

It can be from the blue bag
or the red bag.

Dealer's choice.

[clattering]

[ominous music]

Lana: Uh, Krieger.

I don't see the exo‐suit.

‐ I'm just seeing
what appears to be

a bunch of random useless crap.

Pam:
Are you looking in a mirror?

Burn!
Krieger: Oh, trust me.

It's not random.
Everything Hands does

has meaning.
She's so cool.

[cell phone ringing]

‐ Oh, shit.
It's Malory.

‐ You know you have to tell her
that Archer is here.

[running footsteps approach]

‐ What the shit, Archer?
‐ Relax, Lana.

I'm sure your billionaire
husband, Robert,

can buy you a new phone

or maybe the factory
that makes them.

[computer beeping]
‐ Uh, why does Archer

look redder than an unstuck
dog's dick?

‐ No, no, no, no, no.

He's not wearing
a heat‐locking suit!

Lana, Archer has to
get out of there.

He's too hot.
‐ Shit. Archer, you're too hot.

‐ I know you wanna make up
for excluding me,

but acknowledgement of
my attractiveness

is not an apology.

[alarm sounds]
[mechanical clicking]

‐ Oh, no, no, no, no.

[dramatic music]

Damn it.
It's locked.

‐ And you guys wanted

to go on missions without me.

So... what are we looking for?

‐ Great.
We're locked inside

a high‐security vault that

appears to be protecting
a collection

of bar mitzvah gifts.

‐ Krieger, since you know
the place so well,

please enlighten us
on how we get out of here.

Krieger: I'm on it,
but in the meantime,

do not put
your hands on anything

and send me a visual scan
of the room.

‐ I'm obviously not gonna
touch anything.

I'm not a complete moron.

‐ Look, after whichever
one of you dies first,

I can throw a little fiesta.
[party horns blow]

‐ Damn it, Archer.
‐ What?

That was fun.

Female voice:
Countdown commence.

Cyril: Countdown to what?

‐ Maybe more confetti?
‐ Confetti's positive, right?

‐ Archer, please don't touch
anything else.

‐ Define "anything."
Wha!

‐ I need you guys to show me,
piece by piece,

what's on those shelves.

A phaser, coconut radio,
a fedora,

cursed idol,
a mysterious floating cube...

see, all of these things
represent something

in Hands's life,
something she's‐‐

‐ Played a hand in?

Huh?
‐ Of course!

It's a puzzle!

She's protecting the exo‐suit
with a puzzle.

‐ Finally. God.
I've been bored as dog dicks.

Mitsuko's not really a fun hang.

[dramatic sting]
‐ [groaning eerily]

Lana: Sorry that this
couldn't be more fun for you

and that I might die in a vault
with limited oxygen

because I'm with two assholes

who suck the air out of
every room they're in.

‐ [panting] I'm sorry,
but I need to exercise.

It helps me focus and rid
myself of anxious energy.

‐ Oh, if you're looking
for an exercise

to define your jawline,
why don't you try

shutting the hell up?

Thank you, Chuck Barris.

[gong rumbles]
[alarms sounding]

Wha!
‐ Archer. Archer!

Archeeeeer!
‐ What?

‐ Stop! Touching! Everything!

‐ I've taken this last known
photo of Hands

and converted it
into a stereogram.

Now we'll take the stereogram‐‐
‐ Holy shitsnacks.

Is this Stalin?

‐ No, it's Hands.

‐ Yeah, next to Joseph Stalin.
‐ Hey, guys.

The stereogram revealed
a binary code,

which, when fed into
a translator,

delivered the word "babushka."

Does that mean anything?
‐ Ooh! Ooh!

Earlier, I, uh, saw
one of these, uh,

Russian nesting dolls.
Krieger: Ah, sweet!

Open it up.
‐ Are you sure?

‐ Cyril, just open the doll.
‐ Okay.

[breathes heavily]
Uh, it's empty.

‐ Huh.
There's supposed to be a bunch

of tiny dolls trapped inside.

[metallic clanging, whirring]

What did you just do, Cyril?
‐ Damn it, Cyril.

‐ Oh, my God.
We're the tiny dolls

trapped inside,
and we're all gonna die.

‐ I send a team to snatch

some valuable tech prototype
before JUNO...

‐ Ugh, those dicks.

‐ And suddenly, everyone forgets

how to pick up a phone?

‐ So disrespectful.

You're the only one around here

who gets to keep secrets
about missions.

‐ Right!
Speaking of which...

where the hell is Sterling?

‐ He's probably at home
because you told me

to send out that
fake company email

about the building fumigation
so he wouldn't come in.

‐ I never told you to do that.
‐ [grunts]

We're on such a roll with
all these lies to Sterling,

I just can't stop!

‐ I'm not trying to lie.

I just want to protect him.
He's not ready.

‐ I wish my mom‐slash‐boss
would lie to me

to keep me from getting hurt.

Wait.

Have you been telling me
a bunch of lies?

‐ Call him.
‐ [whining] No!

We've told him so many lies,

and we're right on the verge
of breaking him.

[grunts]
Fine.

[dial tone buzzes]

I don't know his number.

‐ Move.
Idiot.

[line trilling]

woman: Hello?
Oh, my God.

Who are you trying to reach?
‐ Sterling.

Who the hell is this?

Woman: Is he the handsome man
in the black turtleneck?

'Cause I guess he's not
so handsome now.

‐ What happened?

This is his mother!
Where is he?

Woman: Oh, I'm‐‐I'm so sorry.
[sirens wailing]

I don't know how
to tell you this.

[sobs]
‐ [whimpering]

woman: He‐‐he‐‐he‐‐
‐ Oh, my God. Oh, my God!

What have I done?
Archer: [laughs]

Got ya!

Post‐coma voicemail hoax.

Yeah, I'm doing it.
[machine beeps]

female voice: The mailbox
you are trying to reach

is full.

‐ God damn it!

‐ And the student
becomes the master.

‐ Uh, we're relying on
Pam and Krieger

to solve this death puzzle?
[cell phone ringing]

‐ Archer, please.
The power of positive change

lives within‐‐
oh, just answer it!

‐ No, I don't wanna talk
to my mom about her stupid

mother‐son annual seafood lunch

that I missed‐‐that
never existed before today‐‐

oh, my God‐‐and was planned
to distract me from

coming on this mission.

She did this!
‐ Yes, but she can help us.

‐ Help us?
She can't even find me

a decent valet.

[brakes squeak]

Excuse me.

You think I can't open the door
myself?

You're fired.
‐ But, sir,

it is quite literally my job
to help you.

‐ You don't have a job.

Now close the door for me
so I can open it again myself,

and then go home
and shut the door on your neck.

[window motor whirring]

After you pick up
my dry cleaning.

Fine.
I'll call her,

but only to get her
to apologize.

[cell phone dialing]

[line trilling]

Cheryl:
Malory Archer's office.

‐ Yeah, it's me.
Put me through.

Cheryl: Please hold.
Malory: Well, well, well.

If it isn't my ungrateful son
who stood me up.

[Cheryl screams, gunshots crack]

‐ No! Mother!
Mother, what happened?

Cheryl: Oh, my God!
Ms. Archer's been hit!

‐ No!
Oh, my God.

I never should have come
on this mission

just to prove a p‐‐ [laughter]

Malory: Ha!
Elaborate voicemail prank.

Leave it!
‐ Ahh!

[alarm buzzes]

[all coughing]
I can't believe I choked

on the taste of my own medicine.

‐ No, I'm pretty sure
that's just the toxic gas.

[alarm blaring]
Pam: Oh, shit!

The dicks from JUNO
have breached our perimeter.

‐ There's only one thing
we can do now.

[fabric tears]
They need us.

Lana: No, do not come here.

Get us help.

‐ Oh, hell yeah!
[fabric rips]

What?

Bonus turtleneck hot wing!
Sweet!

‐ Ki‐yah! Ki‐yah!
[Lana and Archer coughing]

Ki‐yah! Ki‐yah! Ki‐yah!
‐ Oh.

You know, Lana.

Since I got out of my coma,

it's been really enlightening
to see

how you treat people
you allegedly "care about."

‐ How I treat people
I care about?

‐ Yeah, Lana, you keep them
far away from you

so you can do whatever
you decide is best for you.

‐ I'm sorry?
‐ You sent our daughter

a million miles away
to Swiss boarding school

so you don't have to
deal with her?

‐ "Don't have to deal with her"?

I sent her there to receive

the best education in the world

instead of sitting around,

waiting for you
to get out of a coma.

‐ Oh, okay.
So I'm being punished

because I chose to be
in a coma for three years.

‐ Not everything is about you!
Oh, my God!

We're only in this
stupid death trap

because you do
whatever you want!

‐ This is bullshit.

All of these stupid toys
don't mean anything.

It's all just‐‐oh, my God.

The Six Million Dollar Man.
‐ Archer, no!

‐ [groans] Forget it.
‐ [yelps]

[eerie music]

Ahh!

Ah‐ha‐ha‐ha‐ow!

[grunts]
Holy shit.

Am I dead?
This has to be heaven.

Wait.
I went to heaven?

That‐‐that can't be right.

[footsteps approaching]

Are you the devil?
‐ Not quite.

Although, I'm sure the devil
will be as equally thrilled

when you arrive,
Sterling Archer.

So do you want a drink?

‐ Uh, well, I guess if you're
eventually gonna kill me,

I might as well be drunk
for that, so, yeah.

A whiskey.

[liquid pouring]

‐ Do you need this?
‐ Yes, thank you.

‐ [laughs]
I'm not gonna kill you.

I mean, crush you‐‐sure...

in electric football.

Boosh!

‐ Ha!
Holy shit.

I always wanted one of these.

Lana: Ugh, Archer was right.

‐ [Cyril grunting]
‐ It is somehow worse

when it's just the two of us.

‐ Universe, send us a sign.
[grunts]

‐ Now shut up
and focus on figuring out

how to get us out of here!

‐ Thank you, Lana.
You're right.

[yelling]

[clattering]
[alarm sounds]

[yelping]
[electricity crackling]

[body thuds]

both: Three seconds.

[tense percussive music]

‐ [grunting, groans]

‐ Damn it!
[grunting]

[moans]
Okay. All right.

Alley‐oop!

‐ [panting, grunts]
[object shatters]

[both panting]

‐ Okay.
All right.

[both grunt]

[objects shattering]

[both grunting]

[groans]

[glass shatters]

Oh, shit!

God damn it!

[both breathing heavily]

‐ [grunting]

God damn it.

[body thuds]
‐ [groaning]

‐ [grunting]

[yelps]

[grunts]

[technology bleeping]

♪ ♪

[technology buzzing, bleeps]

‐ [groans, breathing heavily]

Being a spy is not that hard.
‐ Right?

‐ Get me out of here!
[Cyril coughing]

‐ Get out.
Get out.

Okay, go back.
Go back! Go back!

[laughs]
Nice!

Am I still in a coma?

Because these graphics
are amazing.

This place is incredible.

‐ Yeah, I've always loved games,

but after my accident,
I got really into them.

They ease my mind, but they're
also an escape from...

my physical limitations.

‐ Oh, so your accident
is why they call you "Hands."

‐ What?
No, dummy.

Obviously,
it's because I'm the greatest

inventor of all time,

at the grace of
these perfect hands.

Uh?
[both laugh]

‐ Did you invent that
backpack thing?

‐ The exo‐suit?
Jesus.

Have you been in a coma
for three years?

Yeah.
Here, you should try it on.

When inside,
it redistributes weight

with pressurized air.

So people like you and me

can move our entire bodies
with no pain.

Oh, my God.

I haven't felt like this
since space.

I'm weightless.
Whoo‐hoo!

Ya‐ha‐ha‐ha!
[laughs]

Wait.

Is this what we were
trying to steal?

‐ Well, your team
wants to steal it

to prevent me from selling
to the highest bidder.

‐ And JUNO?
‐ JUNO wants to steal it

because they are dicks.

‐ But this shouldn't be stolen.

This should be shared
with everyone.

What's the point of stealing it?

Oh, shit.
It's a weapon.

[door buzzes]
‐ This entire house

is a trained killer!

‐ I know, right?
God, it's cool.

‐ What about Archer?

‐ We need to get back
to the van first.

We can track Archer from there.

‐ Oh, what about the exo‐suit?
What about Hands?

‐ The van is the Alamo!
[guns cocking]

‐ Good luck with that.
[gunfire popping]

[tense music]
[glass shattering]

[punching bag pounding fast]
‐ [gulps]

[laughs]

I'm gonna beat the high score
on everything.

This thing is incredible.

Do you know what I could
do with this?

I could do everything
I used to do, but better.

I could‐‐ ‐ You can't have sex

in the suit.
‐ Well, I'm not so sure

about that.
‐ Dude, you cannot have sex

in the suit.
Trust me.

‐ Well, now I can do a ton of

other stuff I used to do.

I can run.
I can jump.

I can squat.
I can drink, which, honestly,

hasn't really changed anyway,
but still...

‐ I'm glad you like it, Archer.

‐ Like it?
I love it!

I love this house.
I love this bar.

I love this room.
I love this.

I love this.

‐ I hate this! I hate this!
I hate this!

[gunfire popping]

‐ I don't wanna be a spy
anymore!

Stupid!
‐ Fall back!

Fall back!
[metallic clanging]

[explosion booms]
‐ [gasps]

What the hell?

Archer: Shit.
I gotta go.

‐ What are you talking about?

They're professionals,
and they made a choice

to do this mission without you.

‐ Yeah, but they obviously
need me.

‐ After everything
they've done to you?

They lied to you, chastised you,

and excluded you simply
because of your disability.

They didn't even try
to look for you.

They were gonna leave you here.

They don't deserve you.

‐ Huh.

[gunfire popping]

man: It's over.

Just come out and give us
the damn exo‐suit.

‐ What do we do? What do we do?
What do we do? What do we do?

What do we do?
‐ All right.

Cyril and I will engage them
in hand‐to‐hand.

Krieger,
use the distraction to‐‐

‐ Got it.
[gunfire pops]

Ah! I'm hit!

I'm hit!

I'm hit in my beautiful leg!
[sobs]

[gunfire popping]
Cyril: Shit!

There's too many of them!
Archer: Looks like you guys

could use some help.
‐ Who's there?

Archer: Oh,
just the world's greatest spy.

‐ Yeah, we'll see about that.
[man grunts]

Archer: Just so we're clear;
you guys do want my help now?

‐ Yes!
‐ Stop screwing around.

‐ [grunts]

[gunfire popping,
glass shatters]

Archer: Are you two sure
I'm not going to

"just get in the way"?

[men grunting]

‐ Damn it, Archer!
We need you.

Cyril: And we're sorry!

‐ Ahh!
[grunts]

‐ That wasn't so hard now,
was it?

‐ [groans]
Cyril: Wow, Archer.

[laughs] I guess being back on
missions really "suits" you.

‐ What?
‐ Because of your exo‐suit.

‐ I think you mean my exo‐suit.

‐ [gasps]

‐ If you leave here
with that suit,

it will only ever be used
for death and destruction.

‐ I don'
t think that's true.
‐ You got to see firsthand

how this technology
can save a life and improve‐‐

‐ Life?
Five minutes ago,

you were trying to convince me
to abandon my friends

and let them die.
Cyril: Hey!

That's destructive thinking!
Krieger: What?

‐ [scoffs]
That was... a test.

‐ I just woke up,
and I can tell that's bullshit.

‐ Archer, no one should be
limited the way we are.

If you leave it here with me,
I can continue perfecting it.

And then, when it's ready,
I can share it

with the people
who need it most.

‐ Well, I've determined
that I am the person

who needs it the most.

Good‐bye, Hands.

‐ Come on, Archer.
Let's go.

‐ I can't move.
‐ Oh, Archer.

You think the smartest
robotics engineer on the planet

wouldn't install a backup plan?
‐ Oh, no!

[electric crackling]
On second thought...

[yelps]
it's probably best

if the suit stays with you.
[electric crackling continues]

‐ Die, you dicks!

[all gasp]

[remote beeps]
‐ [gasps]

‐ No!

You maniacs!

You blew it up!

Oh, damn you!

God damn you all to hell!

‐ Oh, Krieger,

sorry about Mitsuko, dude.

‐ Are you kidding?

I have hundreds of backups
of her files.

But do you know how much
cherry custom work

went into that van?

[sobbing]
‐ [inhales sharply]

That was a sweet‐ass van, dude.
[voice breaks]

♪ ♪

‐ Made in Georgia.