Archer (2009–…): Season 4, Episode 10 - Un Chien Tangerine - full transcript

Lana is not open to other cultures, mainly Tangier, Morocco; Archer is blissfully at home, toking hashish, drinking and farting falafels, all driving Lana out of her muezzin -addled mind. The pair was sent to Tangier to extract Kazak and bring him to ISIS... but first, they have to get past Moroccan intelligence. A huge, hairy problem tackles Lana... someone forgot to tell Fred and Daphne to pack the Scooby Snacks! Who knew kufta could smell like THAT? Lana goes on her usual hormone-furled, know-it-all bitchfest and she storms off into the desert. At ISIS, Pam scores 100% on the IFAAB and qualifies as an ISIS field agent. Will Kazak "talk" Archer into rescuing Lana from the desert? Does Archer really drive a car like Parnelli Frickin' Jones? Either way, with Kazak on the case, life is a real GAS!



Ugh. No wonder Morocco
Mole was so inept.

He never got any damn sleep.


Unlike some people.
Uh, what's that?

Uh, good morning.
Don't "g'morning" me.

What's your problem?

Besides that
fricking air raid siren?

It's the muezzin
chanting the adhan, Lana.

God, be open to other cultures.

I am. What I'm not open to
is not sleeping on the floor

listening to your drunk
ass fart and snore all night

in the only bed which I'm sure
is why you wanted this room.

If I may rebut, point
by point? No, you may...

A, pretty sure I offered
to share the bed.

B, I wasn't that drunk. Really?

Lana, this is me
we're talking about.

Okay, yeah, maybe I smoked
just a teeny bit too much hashish,

but that's only because
I didn't wanna be rude.

To who, the creepy
old Moroccan dude?

Or those Dutch
high school girls?

Both. The latter of whom
were college juniors.

And C, Lana, we
had to take this room.

Beat history was made here.

Says who, the manager?

Why would he lie?

You are American, yes? Uh, yes.

Then you know Allen Ginsberg,
author of the poem "Howl."

I saw the best minds
Of my generation

Destroyed by madness

Starving hysterical naked

Yes. So for extra 1000 American,

you can have room
where he wrote.


Archer? Morocco. Yeah, hang on.

Is this really the room where
Allen Ginsberg wrote "Howl"?

Why not?

Yeah, why not?

And just so we're clear,
you're mad at all that stuff

and not being weird
because we had sex last night.

Are you...? We didn't have sex.

Good, because I
lied. I was drunk.

You want some?
Makes you feel better.

What will make me feel better

is to get out of
shit-reeking Tangier,

which we can only do
after we extract Agent,

what's his name, Kazak?

Why the hell hasn't he
activated his GPS beacon?

And while we're on the subject,
where the hell is our GPS?

Oh. Uh, promise
you won't get mad?

Uh, no.


I know, right?
It's loud as balls.

When did it start going off?

I don't know, like,
before the muezzin,

but after the Dutch co-eds left.

You brought them up to
the room? Aha! Busted.

You did get some sleep.


ARCHER: How can
you not love this place?

The sights, the
sounds, the smells.

No, Archer, just
one smell, singular,

which would knock a possum over.

Didelphis virginiana.

My second-favorite
animal with a prehensile...

LANA: Tail.

Thanks, Brett
Somers. Yes, a tail.

You have one. Yeah, I wish.

I'd be my first-favorite
prehensile-tailed animal.

Archer? Nightcrawler.

A.k.a., Kurt Wagner,
Lana. Archer.

Although he can teleport,
so the prehensile tail is...

Goddamn it, we're
being followed.

What? When were
you planning to tell me?

LANA: I was.

Look, look. Look out!


Oh, yeah? Well...

Damn, I had something
in Arabic for this.

Wow. That accidentally worked.

Uh, accidentally?

Just drive. There,
take that left.

Hang on, I'm
swinging back around.

No, you're not. Why? Because.

Look in here and tell
me the Arabic phrase for:

"Your mother is a whore
and a goatherd is her pimp."

Oh, right. Absolutely.

Oh, for... Nice.
Real mature, Lana.

Look, obviously Moroccan
intelligence isn't as stoked

about Kazak coming over
to ISIS as your mother is,

so can you please
quit dicking around?

Who's dicking around?

Me, who's driving this clown
car like Parnelli fricking Jones?

Or you, Lana Litterbug?

Archer, I am seriously
not in the mood

for your bullshit right n...


Ahem. Oh, uh...

Hold on, I'm stopping. Why?

Because according
to this, we're here.


Are you coming?

No, but I'm breathing fast.

Get it? Lana, did
you get it? Lana?

ARCHER: You trying not to laugh
because you're cranky for some reason?

I'm cranky because
I didn't sleep.


And now I can't sleep,

because I'm pretty
sure I have a concussion.

Wait, seriously?

Yes, Archer. My
head totally kills.

Well, that's not
good. Wait, seriously?

Because Tangier's
totally awesome.

Wildly inaccurate.

But it's probably
not the best place

to receive medical treatment.

So, what say we
grab this Kazak guy

and get out of this
flyblown shithole?

Okay, but you're missing out

on all the great things
Tangier has to offer.

Name one. Che...

Besides cheap hash and a
repulsively low age of consent.

Uh, rugs? Okay.

Shooting me's not gonna
change the unbeatableness

of their rug prices, Lana.

It might change my
mood. To remorseful?

I drew because we
don't know what's waiting

for us behind this...

Door. You know...


Lana! Archer?

ARCHER: Uh, hey,
how you doing, buddy?

I'll be better when
you shoot him.

I was talking to him, stupid.

Great, then I'll...


ARCHER: I don't
think he likes guns.


Okay, all right, that's...

All right, come
on. Hey, uh, stop it.

Would you get the
damn dog off my tits?

Here, boy. Come
on, buddy. Uh, heel?

I don't think he speaks English.

What's "get off" in Arabic?

She asked, regretfully,

remembering that
just moments earlier

she'd thrown away
his $11 phrasebook.

Oh, for the... Get
off. Ooh! Ha, ha!

Okay, okay. Who's
a good boy, huh?

Who's a good boy?

Ugh. I thought you hated dogs.

I love dogs, Lana.

Except Mother's
dog. I hated that dog.

Because she loved
it more than you?

Ha, ha. Very funny.

Although, she never
forgot the dog's birthday.


Can we please just do this?


Lana, put it away.

All right, everything
is okay. See?

See? He really
doesn't like guns, Lana.

He can't stress that enough.

What are we supposed to do
if Kazak doesn't wanna come?

Feed him to Cujo here.

He can poop him out
when we get home.

Hey, who's a poopy boy,
huh? Who's a poopy boy?

slobbering-ass mutt.

Don't listen to her, she's...

Oh, my God. Wow.

You could use a Tic Tac.

Kazak? Hello?

Kazak. Kazak.

Ah, get away from me.
What are you doing?

What are you doing?

Lana, you can't beckon
him and then rebuff him.

Beckon and rebuff whom? Kazak.

No, he's not.

He cannot be Kazak.

Uh, he can, according
to his name tag.

Oh! Son of a bitch.


Well, technically, she's
right, huh? Is she right?

Who's a son of a bitch?
Are you a son of a bitch?

Lana, look. He
thinks he's people.

LANA: Nope. No, no, no, nope.

I did not sign on to
be a dog sitter for...

Whose freaking dog is this?

Well, who gives a shit, Lana?

He's, like, the Pelé
of, let me finish, fetch.


Well, I will if you
bring it here, Kazak.

I can't throw it if
it's in your mouth.

Why didn't you become a vet?

Honestly? Didn't
have the grades.

Heh. No shit. Why
would I lie about that?

And who are you
calling? Who do you think?

Ask her if we can keep him.



CHERYL: Miss Archer,
Lana for you, Line 1.

I'm not here. [GASPS]

Then how...?

Oh, for the love...

Obviously, I am here.


I just don't wish
to speak to her.

But you are here.

Ah! If you walk over
here and touch me,

you will spend your
lunch hour being fitted

for a prosthetic hand.

I only get 45 minutes.

But I'll tell her
you're not here.

But you are, right?

Out. Aah!

I assume Lana's mad

because Sterling's
pushing her buttons.

What a surprise. Speaking of...

You finally saved enough
money for a sex change.

No. I'm actually
broker than usual.

Nine, 10. She's out.



But I'm very comfortable
in my own body,

thank you very much. And...

Don't thank me, thank...
And before you say...

May I finish?

Archer Daniels Midland.

Now what do you
want? I'm extremely busy.

To be a field agent.

I'm sorry? LANA: You should be.

How was I supposed to know
it was gonna make him do that?


Stuffing him full
of street kebabs?

A, it was kofta, and...
Beelzebub's asshole. Kazak.

Oh. Bad dog. Bad dog.

Sorry, buddy, I
didn't mean that. I...

I did.

Your mother sends me
on this bullshit mission,

but now she won't
even take my call?

New York's five hours behind.
Maybe she's not in the office.

Oh, please, she's totally there.

Wha...? Out.

Just checking. God.

Idiot. As I was saying...

I'm sorry. And I'm sure I...

[KAZAK FARTS] Ugh. Oh, man.

I also speak for
Kazak, who, by the way,

is the real victim here.

How is he the victim?

Lana, his nose is like a jillion
times more sensitive than ours.


It's gotta be killing him.

Well, before I
kill him, and you,

just get us to the port.

Hopefully, this stupid
boat to Spain has aspirin.

What boat?

What "what boat"?
The "boat" boat.

Wow. You might
actually be concussed,

because that's
not a real sentence.


And the boat's not a boat, Lana,

it's a freaking
hovercraft! Woo-hoo!



But boat or not boat,
we won't be getting on it.

LANA: A roadblock?

So guess we're driving
through the desert

to a backup extraction point?



Sorry. I know you had your
heart set on that hovercraft ride.

But why on earth do
you feel you're qualified

to be an ISIS field agent?

Uh, besides Cyril's one? Hey.

Cyril, you want a
fresh one? I do not, no.

Then shut your fist hole
and show Miss Archer

how I did on the IFAAB.

The ISIS Field Agent
Aptitude Battery?

You took it? You aced it?

No. But this can't...
You cheated.

How? Everyone
watched me take it.

Under sterile
conditions, by the way.




PAM: What?

Punk-ass bitches.

Sterile test conditions, anyway.

But I can promise
she didn't cheat.

Be that as it... Hm.

Hm. Hm!

This means nothing.

My God, a perfect score on
the IFAAB merely indicates

that a person is a candidate
for field agent status.

It can't determine if they're
suited for actual field work.

I mean, what if she had to
subdue an enemy agent?

Cue sad trombone. And go.



Pam, what the hell
did you...? Whah!

Unh! Help!


My God.

And it goes on like that

for another 38
soul-cleaving minutes.

Of which you were
there for two. Three.

I was scared. I
ran away. Sue me.

And then sue me
for this. Smoke bomb.

So you aced the test
and beat up a Nazi,

a nerd and queen of the robots?

BOTH: Hey.

If the saddle oxford
and/or ruby slipper fits,

mister and/or missy.

What makes you think I
need another field agent?

I quit. ARCHER:
Lana, believe me,

nobody wanted a
hovercraft more than me.

LANA: Stop the car. I'm serious.

I'm serious. Calm the hell down.

Here, hit this hash brown.

That creepy old dude
put his lips on it but...

Archer, stop the goddamn car.

Lana, put the gun
down. He's gonna...


Stopping the car, buddies.

Sorry about that, fur face.

Wouldn't have shot
you for a gazillion bucks.

You, not so much.

Lana, come on, we
both know you're...

Quitting, Archer. Yes, exactly.

Oh. I was gonna
say, "not quitting."

Wildlier inaccurate.

"Wildlier" isn't a real
word, by the way.

At least not in English.

I don't know. She threw
away my phrasebook.


Almost kind of
wishing she'd shot you.

No, no, no, I'm kidding.

Who's my stinky boy,
huh? Who's my...?


Ugh. So, hey, I know
we kid around a lot,

but I think you might
have dog cancer.


ARCHER: No, no. No way.
I'm not going back for her.

You're new here,
but Lana cries wolf

on quitting ISIS,
like, twice a week.

She'll be fine. She's got... Oh.

I was gonna say,
GPS, gun, sat phone,

and canteen full
of life-saving water.


Well, she's the one who
stormed off into the desert

with no GPS, no gun, no sat
phone, and no life-saving water.

And why the hell are
you taking her side?

She jammed a gun in your...


Ugh. So were you whining
about Lana being an idiot?

Or about you being carsick?


How much freaking
kofta did you eat?

Well, whose fault is that?

Okay, so maybe I egged
you on to eat five orders of it,

and maybe I push
Lana's buttons on purpose,

and just generally
make her life hell,

which maybe I do, possibly,

if I'm being completely honest,

because I still have
some pretty strong...

Oh, goddamn, dude.

Okay, we'll go back for her.
But not because you said so.

LANA: Because you let him.

Because you let him
push your buttons.

That's why you stormed
off with no GPS, gun, phone,

or life-saving water.

And that's why you
died in the desert.

Holy shit, I'm gonna
die in the desert.


Just like Cheryl's
gypsy woman said.

How would I ever
die in a dessert?

Well... Pretty close.

And you're not gonna die out
here because any minute now...

Ha, ha! Ha!

Archer's gonna come
crawling back to you,

tail between his legs from...

From the wrong
direction. Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

Wait, wait, wait. Shut up. What?
What are you talking about?

Oh, God, I don't know.

Maybe a gigantic
chocolate mousse or...

I said "desert." Oh.

Still pretty close.

Will you put Mother
on the damn phone?

What's the magic word?

Oh, for the... Please.

No, they changed it.

Cheryl, you stupid [BLEEP]...

Hm. Lucky guess.

PAM: Plus, I'm a quick learner.

Plus, I'm an amazing driver.
Plus, I almost never get sick.

Plus, I already
bought three pantsuits.

I'll think about it.

That a real you'll
think about it?

Or a "Pam, if your pig, Leon,

"wins a blue ribbon
at the county fair,

"we won't kill and eat
him for Easter dinner,

and render what's
left into soap,"

you'll think about it?


Because I never
really got over that.

It's a real one. Yay!

But thank you for that glimpse

into your bleak,
farmy childhood.

It was actually pretty awesome.

And, if I'm being
honest, so was Leon.

Get out. What?

ARCHER: Mother?
It's Sterling. Listen.


Heh. I guess I had that coming.


MALORY: You must
really think I'm an idiot.

Your words, Mother,

but my voicemail
doesn't call you.

Oh, right.

What's going on?
Did you get Kazak?

Are you on the boat yet?

Okay, in order,
I'll get to that.

Yes, no, and it's
not a boat, it's a...

The hovercraft. Whatever.
Why aren't you people on it?

Well, for starters,
some of us aren't people.


But they think they are.
Yes, they do. Yes, they do.

Sterling! Oh. So,
anyway, Lana quit and...

She...? What'd you do this time?

ARCHER: Nothing. She quit
because you made us fly to Morocco.

Coach, by the way...

And don't even get
me started on that.

For a dog.

You know how insulting
that is? A stupid dog?

Wha...? Is this about
the carriage ride?

I mean, I'd be lying if I
said it wasn't a factor.

Let me tell you something

about that so-called
stupid dog, Mr. Man.

Are you...? That's
all we were after?

Well, you could
have told us, Mother.

Oh, and you could have
told me you just took her

to the stupid vet.

Who just had a lovely
birthday carriage ride

through Central Park?

Yes, she did. Yes, she did.



We're not gonna make it to
the backup extraction point,

so get a fix on my signal
and reroute the chopper

to those coordinates.

Okay, rerouting
now. ETA, 10 minutes.

Whenever. We'll be
here. One way or the other.

So, hey, how you
doing on the kofta?


Yeah, good, get it all out now,

because this next
part's gonna suck.


LANA: Archer!



See? That's why I
said scrooch down.

Lana, Lana, scrooch down!

No, no, no. Archer, don't.


Are you out of your mind?

No. Although I am out of ammo.

Okay, buddy, so here's
the deal. A, scrooch down.

And B, normally in this
situation I do a pit maneuver.

If I do, the truck will flip,
and if Lana doesn't die...

she's a quadriplegic,
I marry her out of guilt,

but after a few
years of feeding tubes

and colostomy
bags, I resent her,

and the night nurse
is, like, Brazilian and 20.


Don't judge me. I
have needs, man.

The point is, and it might
be a kind of shitty plan,

but I'm gonna jump on the truck.

So I need you to take the...

- -wheel, exactly. So... Kazak?


Oh, look. Lana, look.
He thinks he's vampires.


ARCHER: Lana, look out!






No. Guy's probably
got nine wives

and a jillion kids and...

Holy shit, that's
racist, Archer.

What is wrong with you?

LANA: Seriously. Lana.

Archer, thank...

God, is he hit?
Tell me he's not hit.

He's fine.

As am I, not that you give a...

Shh! Lana, don't
ruin the moment.

What moment? What are you...?


Uh, what are you
doing? What is that?


It was on his collar
the whole time.

Something about
nukes in Pakistan.

Or one of the -akistans.
I forget which one.


My point is, ow,
sometimes we do good work.

So promise me
you'll never quit again.


Only if you promise you'll quit
being such a colossal asshole.


Heh. I can't.

You know...