Archer (2009–…): Season 11, Episode 8 - Cold Fusion - full transcript

Archer and the gang travel to Antarctica to solve a murder mystery with international implications.

Antarctica...
Icy graveyard of hubris,

not hostile to humanity,

but worse...
Utterly indifferent,

a blank wall at the edge
of the universe,

defying us to find meaning
in it.

So you can see why
I'm not going.

For God's... the antenna
at McMurdo Station is down.

All we've heard
is a garbled transmission

about a murder,
and two days ago,

we detected an unidentified...

Really?



- You need a pickleback?
- Do you?

- I...
- We're as concerned

about McMurdo
as the average citizen is,

but we run a business.

Obviously,
we're extremely concerned

- about the consequences.
- Are you?

The death of everyone
on Antarctica,

the loss of research
that may save the planet,

and a flaw in the ice cap

that could doom us
in the short-term?

Sure, those, but does this
look like a nonprofit?

Yeah, one that distributes
liquor to needy child-men.

- Hey!
It happens to be man-child!

And now I'm craving
a pickleback,



- so thanks for that.
- For the last few years,

this organization
had a newfound reputation

for effectiveness
and ethical conduct.

What happened?

Uh, I woke up,
and we got awesome again.

Jesus, Lana,
how far you've fallen.

- Uh, I'm sorry?
- Some history here?

I honestly have no idea
what's happening right now.

- Oh, please.
It's Sandra.

You were the star

of the environmental science
department,

sucking up all the grants
and funding

like a selfish vampire,
then skipping out,

leaving our department
blacklisted for grants

for the next five years.

- Oh.
Grad school Sandra.

Yeah, I still don't know
who you are.

- Oof.
Nothing worse than a nemesis

who doesn't know you exist...

Like playing air guitar
with your entire life.

Why don't you all
take a deep breath?

There's wonderful oxygen
right outside my office.

- Guys!
Guys!

It's landing on the building!

Wait, but we don't have a...

"Helipad" is what
I was gonna say.

- Uh-huh.
- Oh, hey, Trip.

I didn't know that
you were coming.

As the major private donor
to McMurdo,

I am determined to solve
this crisis at all costs.

Funny, that's exactly
the number of costs we charge.

I'm taking your full team
to McMurdo.

Severe winds there right now,
so we'll have to take my sub.

- You have a submarine?
- Hey, bud.

I love humanity,
but in a warming world

on the brink of anarchy,

an exit strategy
is only sensible.

We, of course,
are very familiar

with your technology ventures.

Including those floating
mini-cities.

Didn't you blow a ton of money
designing those?

- In a warming world...
- We get it.

Yes, we get it.

Why are you so concerned
with McMurdo?

I've spent time
with the people of McMurdo,

and they truly are my family.

My guess is one of those freaks
went eco-terrorist,

and I need to protect
my investment.

- Really?
Any evidence for that?

Don't need it,
because I have

vision.

Though, not quite enough
vision to see

that we don't have a helipad.

When you're innovative
enough,

everything's a helipad.

Hard to argue with that.

Place your bet, folks.

Thawed alien monstrosity?
Uh, flesh-eating virus?

Demon possession.

- Sex worms!
- Look.

All we've got to do
is make sure everyone is okay.

- Other than the murder victim.
- So we solve the murder,

we fix the antenna,
and then we get out of here

before our nipples
rip through our clothing.

Ooh, multi-dimensional
hell-beast that confronts us

with the horror
of our own existence?

No, Mother's
still on the sub.

- But why?
- I'll go when they train

penguins to mix a decent
French 75

and not a moment before.

- I'll be in the bar.
- And I just don't like

being places, you know.

Okay, but how can you help
from the sub?

- Help what?
- Oh, I don't know,

maybe putting our stuff
on the sledge.

I'm dealing with
my own supplies, Lana.

- Is that just booze in there?
- No!

For your information,

there's also a huge amount
of pickle juice.

Seriously, you got me fiending.

Welcome to the most
beautiful place on Earth.

Yep, just narrowly edged out
the walk-in freezer at IHOP.

This is Rex, chief of station.

And this is baby Lamont.

I am not saying hello
to a flightless bird.

Your loss and also Lamont's.

He's sensitive.
You just bought me an hour

of tummy rubs tonight.

Hey there, sailor,
you giving those out for free?

Yes, penguins
don't use currency.

So are you here
for the antenna repair

or for the murder?

Both; We need to get a handle
on the situation.

Gather everyone on base
for questioning.

Krieger here will attempt
to repair the main antenna.

But right now,
you need to get me inside

because if I get any colder,

I'm gonna literally
murder someone.

Oh!
Sorry.

- Too soon?
- He was my friend.

But come on,
it's not like there were

a ton of options out here.

It's like an oat milk orgy
in here.

A half-bottle
of substandard vodka?

I don't drink alcohol.

I need every brain cell
at top capacity

when my mind is uploaded
to the cloud.

Which means we'll need
the vodka

to deal with you until then.

He thinks alcohol
goes in your brain.

You use your mouth.

But, please,
do not leave this area.

Does that seem fishy to you?

I mean, it's not like
you're not gonna drink it.

I'm not saying you're wrong.

I just think
we want them looking

at the pickaxes, so they're,
you know,

- "facing their crime."
- Oh.

- What about ropes to symbolize...
- Shh!

I'm getting into character.

- As a douchebag?
I think you're there.

- Lana, please.
We are in the midst

of a closed-door whodunnit,
so forgive me

for actually enjoying my work.

- No.
- What do you mean, "no"?

I don't deal well
with dead bodies,

so maybe I should... ahh!

- God, it's worse than I thought!
- What's with him?

Well, after turning
his life around

while Archer was in a coma,

he's fallen back
into some old habits.

Like being
a whiny little bitch!

- Keep it together.
You're a man!

Yeah, that's the thing
about real men...

Always saying they're men.

Sharp entrance wound,
no evidence

of sawing or slicing.

We're looking at a single blow,
angled downward.

This wasn't
a murder at all!

It was an icicle!

This was next to the body.

Oh, the shame.

Just sit in it.

- It's a pretty standard move.
- Oh, I'm... I'm Gray.

I've spent most of the last
15 years with penguins.

I kind of forget how to...
Be a person?

I am Dr. Gertrude Rilsa.

- Wow.
That was intensely sinister.

Yeah, do you have
a vocal setting

where it doesn't seem like
you're about to kill us?

I will humanize myself.

I study how the isolation
of a small group

affects willingness to engage

in increasingly deviant
sexual behaviors...

with robots...

on drugs.

- Wow!
- The robots?

Do we introduce her
to Krieger or would that...

Bring about the death
of humanity

in a cyber-sexual apocalypse?
Hard yes.

- Yes... no.
I mean, yes.

No, I... I didn't do it.

I'm second in command
of this base,

and I do everything
by the book.

- Um, name?
- Maddox.

Sorry, little jumpy.
Whoo!

- Uh, hey, that's okay.
It's a stressful sit...

It wasn't me, goddamn it!

Playing at detectives,
they must face death

in all her guises, both that
of the victim and their own.

You, uh... you wanna
turn that off?

I am afraid
that is not possible.

We were all in the common area.

Bob left first.

We didn't see him
for the rest of the night.

Then I think Gray left
for a while.

- Ah!
He must have left

to do some light murdering,
then...

He went to my experimental
robot den

to engage in his
ultimate fantasy.

Gray is great,
but let's just say

I don't leave him alone
with Lamont.

I think we get it.

He wants to fornicate
with penguins.

Did you know penguins
mate for life?

- Fantastic.
- Did anyone else leave

- after Gray?
- Sure, I left for a while.

- Oh, ho, ho, ho.
Very interesting.

- I did, twice.
- I left four times.

Thank you.

This has all been
very unhelpful.

- Worse murder suspects ever.
- Perhaps not.

I went outside to document
the desolate, inky night...

Well, I'll notify
the consulate

of the great nation
of I-don't-care-istan.

Whilst pouring over footage,
I found I had captured

Maddox exiting the murder
location at the time of death.

Why didn't you tell us
before?

Who can say?

Trying to understand
the human motives

only leads to a labyrinth
of madness and chaos.

- Shut up!
- Oh, shut up!

All right, let's announce
our next contestant

on "Did You Commit Murder?"

And Maddox, come on down!

Pam, come on!

You were supposed to get
everyone.

That was a big moment.

- Maddox ain't coming.
- Did she bolt?

- No, dummy.
She just got murdered.

My God, this is terrible.

Seriously, that totally ruins
my game-show thing.

- Really?
That's the problem?

Um...

I made a Plinko board!

Guys, we're sure
Plinko wouldn't be useful here?

- No!
- So Maddox

wasn't the murderer.

- Ya think?
- Look.

If we're going to solve this,
it's not going to be

by engaging in petty squabbles!

Man, you don't know us
at all.

Can you think of any motive
for the murder?

I don't know... any research
worth killing over?

Don't be ridiculous.

Our main study has been mapping
the depth of ice sheets,

using small explosive charges.

Congratulations.

You just made explosives
boring.

Well, they found a flaw
in the ice sheet,

which would be catastrophic
if it gave way...

A hundred years of sea level
rise in ten minutes.

- Wow.
I stand corrected.

That is in fact so boring,

the word "boring"
just killed itself.

Krieger, can you examine
these bodies?

We need a clue.

Okay, but these days,

I've got more practice
with cephalopod bodies.

What the hell happens
in that lab?

Okay, Archer and I are gonna
go search Maddox's quarters.

- I'll give you a hand.
- No, you will not.

You're a suspect.

And just what are we
expected to do?

Oh, no, Rexy,
Big Mama lost again.

What am I gonna
have to take off now?

Strip solitaire
is not a thing!

- I'm out.
- What?

- Yeah, on people.
I'm out.

- I can see that.
So what now?

Isn't it obvious?

- Prison tats!
- Exact... no!

We find something else
to drink!

I don't care what Trip says.

No one plans
for an apocalypse

without a stash
of the good stuff.

This is a coke sub?

No, I mean, liquor.

Why would they smuggle
liquor?

They don't.

So where's the cocaine, lady?

It's called logic.
Look into it.

Into what?

We don't even know
what we're looking for.

Yes, well,
you've certainly pinpointed

the very nature of a clue.

The question is, who had
the time to ransack the place

after the murder
but before Pam announced it?

- No, not necessarily.
They could have

tossed the place
before they killed her.

Shut up, both of you,

with this deductive timeline
circle jerk.

- Wait a minute.
Weren't you the one

reveling in this
closed-door whodunnit?

Before it became
a stupid logic puzzle.

Who am I, Bernard Bolzano?

So what do you suggest?

We need to get back
to our instincts,

like, uh, this, I guess.

Give me that!

This is Maddox's notebook,

and there are a bunch of pages
ripped out.

But before that...

She went out on the ice,
and she found something,

and she was...
With Rex.

- Oh!
- Feel that power.

And I'm going to do that
every two minutes

until you let us out.

And his anguish
was not just in his genitals.

It was in his soul.

Jesus, Cyril.

You leave your nuts
in your other uterus?

No!

It's abundantly clear
they're still here.

Seriously,
what happened to you?

- Archer happened to me!
Can't you all see that?

He, like, drags you back
to your worst self

like some kind of horrible
reverse therapist!

- Uh, whatever, dude.
I feel great.

Girl, if you were
any more on the prowl,

there'd be an APB out
on your cooch.

You see me backsliding?

I don't even want it anymore.

I gotta keep eating it
to fill the void

that eating it creates,
like a snake eating

- its chocolaty delicious tail.
- Um, hi.

Can you come with me
to the garage?

Things are getting creepy,
and I'd feel better

with an escort.

No, you do not see that.

- You're right.
I'll... I'll stand up to him.

Hey, Cyril,
if you could stop masturbating

for a second,
send Pam over with Rex.

Also, you suck.

Oh!
Innapropski.

- Rex, my man.
There he is.

Hey, can you hand Lamont
over to Pam?

- Oh!
- We know

you did it, asshole!

Let go of my beautiful

polar bear!

Maddox's notebook said
you went out on the ice

to investigate some blip
after the flyover.

That doesn't mean
I killed her!

- Good point.
One second.

But there could be
any number

of reasons we're radioactive.

Oh, I know,
and it also explains

the penguin excrement
on the ice ax!

Damn it, Lamont!

It's true.

I've had bottles smuggled
into Yemen in a camel's ass.

You only drink what's inside,
darling.

So this doesn't seem at all
undignified to you?

- Why should it?
- Uh-huh.

Quick, the closet!

- Things are in motion.
Just a bit of a cash crunch.

I can say there's gonna
be a huge demand

for my floating cities
very soon.

Pull the snowmobiles
out of cargo bay.

We have the location
of the package,

and I need Team Alpha out
in force... armed to the teeth.

Now that's fishy
because of the floating cities!

They're on water,
where fish live!

Ah, looks like
I have insurance

if your team starts to meddle.

And can you possibly whisper
any louder?

Yes, obviously!

What is with this guy?

Seriously,
what's so important

that you had to kill
two people?

First off, it's not two.

And... wait.
You don't know?

Oh, I am sorry.

This has been a massive
communication failure.

So you didn't kill Bob!

Oh, no,
I totally killed that asshole.

This all gets
a little confusing,

so just stay with me.

There was
an unauthorized flyover,

and I noticed on radar

that the plane
dropped something.

So Maddox and I
went out to see what it was.

It was a hydrogen bomb.

We figured someone
had dropped it as a way

to transfer it, since they're
impossible to smuggle.

So Maddox and I took it back
and stashed it.

That night, while we were
deciding what to do,

we discovered Bob
sabotaging the antenna.

He was trying to isolate
the base,

and then he discovered us
discovering him.

So when you guys got here,

I thought you were in on it.

So where did you stash it?

- Wait.
Oh, my God!

- Are we in...
- Shackleton's Hut,

historically preserved
exactly as it was in 1908.

Well... almost exactly.

Uh, wow.

What are you guys doing
down here?

Oh, making moonshine,
hydroponic marijuana,

amateur pornography...
You know, for the fans.

And to think
I had a crush on you.

Heh.
And now I love you.

Maddox and I
stashed it right here.

Nothing!

That's what I've got to show
for this whole trip!

Tell me about it!

You wouldn't even give me
a tattoo.

Look, let's all just...

Put the gun down.

- So, hi.
And stab.

- Ahh!
Are you serious?

- Seriously, you are nuts.
- Winters get pretty long.

Sterling,
Trip is planning something.

I don't know what, but I have
a few pieces of the puzzle.

- Excellent.
Okay.

Everybody shut up and focus.

We must meticulously
walk through

every piece of information
we've gathered,

explore every doubt
until we've cracked the case.

It will be a long, slow plod

of a conversation.

If everyone is ready...
let's begin.

So, in summary,
Trip's putting a hydrogen bomb

on the flaw to destroy
the ice sheet

to sell floating cities.

Wow, that wasn't so long.

Well, I guess
there's only one question now.

Yeah.

What kind of porn?

Man, I'm actually jealous

of the guys at the Alamo.

At least they had access

to good Mexican food.

I don't think that they did.

But anyway, if we fail,
we're dead, so...

Thank you, Sergeant Sunshine,
but, yeah,

we are way outgunned.

I think we can help
with that.

The salt water
of the pickle juice

acts as a conductor.

When the glass breaks,

the circuit completes,

and it blows
one of the charges.

And this is our moonshine,
creating the...

- Ultimate pickleback.
- Jesus Christ.

Hey, uh, anyone know
what's going on?

They should be coming
straight toward us.

There's no other way
off Antarctica.

Trip does not strike me
as the noble suicide type.

Yeah,
he's more the type to die

in bed with his mistress.

I'm actually seeing him
hog-tied.

He's definitely a sub.

Ah-ha!

Gillette and Pam,
you horny dorks!

- Thank God you said that!
- Hog-tied?

There's no way Trip
wouldn't have

a remote failsafe shutdown
if things went wrong.

I have dealt with this type
of person before... selfish,

only thinking of themself
at all times,

"screw everyone else" attitude.

I just can't imagine
being like that.

So close and yet so stupid.

All right,
we've trained for this.

You truly are my valiant crew.

I'm sorry, what?

- What "what"?
Everything's normal!

So what are we doing again?

We're going
to the engine room,

and we're going to take over
the sub.

Will I need Darla?

We'll cross that bridge
when you casually stab it.

You can't stab a bridge...
or can you?

Brine time.

Whoo!

Eat halberd!

Damn it, Cyril!

Damn it!

Whoo-hoo!

All right, mop up time!

If he gets away,
we are all dead!

Yes, Lana, we all still
realize that.

What are you doing?

If that propeller turns on,
you are Archer sashimi!

And your muscles will stop
working in about 30 seconds.

Nah, I'm sure it's not
that fast.

Would you please listen
for once?

And he's gone.

This is Trip!
Get us out of here!

If you move that hand
another inch,

you won't have it anymore.

I knew it!

Would it kill you to share?

Archer.

Archer?
Archer!

- Wake up, dingus!
- Crackers, you nut.

I'll just wait till next time.

There is no next time!

- Give me your hand, idiot!
- I can't move.

And I can't swim,
yet here we are.

Come on, you featherless freak!

Wow, Archer,
I would like to present you

with a medal for being an idiot
on every continent!

God damn it!

You wanna open your eyes
when you shoot?

You are pathetic.

- Hey, everyone!
Why are you bitching?

- Hey!
You're the one who made

all our lives worse
by not being in a coma!

Hmm, true.

Cyril's a wuss,
Pam's gone full horn-monster,

Gillette's probably
binging again,

and Lana, you've been
a bitch to Sandra

for, like, no reason.

But let me just call up
7.5 billion

of my closest friends
to get their opinions.

Oh, hey, guess what!

They're totally fine with it
because they're alive!

And how many times
did you guys save the world

while I was in a coma?

I'll take your silence
to mean zero times!

Honestly, at this point,

I'd wipe out the entire Earth
if you went with it.

Did you people ever consider
that you need me around

because you want the excuse
to be your worst selves?

Oh, shit!

Your little victory
meant nothing!

I can detonate the bomb
remotely.

Ahh!

So I guess
not everything's a helipad.

Made in Georgia.