Archer (2009–…): Season 4, Episode 4 - Midnight Ron - full transcript

It might not be a bounty hunt and it might not be evening, but Midnight Ron is chock full of crime. Drunk in Montreal, Archer torched his passport. When neither Malory nor any other of the ISIS gang will help Archer, stranded at the casino, his new stepfather decides to rescue him. Does it matter that Ron Cadillac has his own agenda?

MALORY: Schenectady?

You're in Schenectady?

After all your naggy lectures

about how I need to
stop micromanaging ISIS?

You do. And this is macro-managing.

Come on, some
things I gotta do myself.

CHERYL: Mr. Archer's
on Line 2. I'm on the phone.

duh, Line 2. Wha...?

ARCHER: Mother? Sterling...

ARCHER: Don't talk, just listen.

My cover's blown and
I need an extraction.

Oh, my... Wait,
extraction? From where?

Montreal. Long story, but
my money and passport

were confiscated, so...

So where in Montreal exactly?


Like, the GPS coordinates or...?


Confiscated by whom? A croupier?


Or a herd of Quebecker whores?

I wouldn't say "herd."

Well, after you get
some free penicillin,

compliments of the Socialist
Republic of Canada...

Really? You can
extract yourself.

Mother, I don't
have a passport...

RON: Don't get me
wrong, I respect that.

But comparing ISIS to
six Cadillac dealerships

is like comparing
apples to six Cadillac...

Ron! What?

Sterling is stranded
at the Montreal Casino

with his pockets
turned out and...

And this is just speculation,

some new
drug-resistant form of VD.


And you're in Schenectady again!

I'll be home tonight.

Oh, I know. Because
what's tonight?

Uh... Tuesday night?

Box seats for the opening
of Carmen at the Met.

Babe, come on, I
promise, I'll be there.

Well, if you're not,

you can just not bother
coming home at all.


CHERYL: Trouble
on the old home front?

Oh, for the... Eavesdrop much?

PAM: Scream into a
speakerphone much?

Pam? PAM: What?

You want us to wear
earplugs every time

you're on the damn... Ah!

Ooh. Or helmets.

It is just idiots
all the way down.

And his money, I get it,
that's all craps and whores.

But his passport?

How the hell did he
lose his passport?

Because shut up.
Because I don't need it.

Because I'd never go...
America, okay? Because...




It's my third biggest fear.

He brings home a whore
and says, "We're married."

Oh, and the whore has bangs.

Ugh. Thank God I don't
have to worry about anything

like that with Ron.

"Hi, I'm Ron Cadillac,
a.k.a. Mr. Boring."

Jesus God, what
am I doing with...?

RON: Ron Cadillac,

they don't make
the rules, you do.

Well, obviously they
do make the rules.

That's why it's come to this.

Which is why Ron
Cadillac is opting out.

And also why Ron Cadillac
is gonna swing by Montreal

on his way home.

Because Ron Cadillac
is freaking epic!





I will accept the charges. What?

ARCHER: Carol, hey, shut up.

I need you to go
down to Western Union

and wire me a thousand dollars.


Yeah. No.

Yes! No!

Oh, for... Then just
let me talk to Pam.

PAM: Ha, ha, ha. Absolutely not.

Huh? Because pick any one

of an infinite
number of reasons.

Yeah, okay, hang on.

Yeah, no, I would,

but I can't really leave
the lab at the moment.


But I can transfer you.

Ha, ha.

No, I seriously thought
you were joking.

Yeah, hang on.


Okay. Okay, let me talk to Lana.


You know there is a line?

There's gonna be
a line at your wake,

so shut your poutine hole...

LANA: No. Lana?

Lana, listen, I... No.

Need you to... No.

Stop saying no. No, Archer. No.

And it's gonna sound
like I'm hanging up, but...


Why do you casser le telephone?

Because I'm out of people to call.

Woodhouse wouldn't help me.

ARCHER: What do you
mean, no? I basically own you.

And I basically own him.

Jesus, this is actually
almost depressing.


Need a ride, champ?

Although not as
depressing as Ron.

What the hell are
you doing here?

Giving you a ride
home. Come on, hop in.

What, did my mother send you?

No, not exactly. I just thought
it'd give us a chance to bond.

Yeah, don't take this
the wrong way, Ron,

but I'd rather bond
with a C.H.U.D.


But C.H.U.D.'s live in
New York, so let's go.


RON: What the
hell is a C.H.U.D.?

ARCHER: They were people,

but then they got
splashed with toxic waste.

Ah, that's a load
of crap. It's a movie.

But those baby alligators people
flush down there, now that's...

Ron, seriously, at some
point I'm gonna have

to take a shit, so...

So why didn't you
go before we left?

Not now, in the future.

And I won't be able to

if I'm thinking
about giant alligators

rampaging up into my toilet.

Oh. Talk about tearing
you a new one. Ha, ha, ha.

For the love of
Christ, man, stop!


I meant stop talking about
ass-ripping sewer-gators.

Ha, ha. Yeah, I
know. Yeah, I know.

So? He asked, incredulously.

You said you didn't
have a passport.

So? He asked,
equally incredulously.

So that. Oh.


And that's not
sarcastic incredulity.

I honestly wanna hear your
thoughts on getting me across.

RON: Why not?

Because what if
they check the trunk?

Well, why would they?

Because that's
exactly their job.

Yeah, on the Mexican border.

Who the hell's gonna
sneak in from Canada?

Hm. Arctic wolves?

And even if you had a passport,

what if they checked
you for a gun?

You do have a gun, don't you?

Yeah, I...

Yeah, so maybe keep it handy.

What? Wait, why would...? Ron?



Ron! What?



Uh... Never mind, I got it.


ARCHER: Ron, let me
out of the goddamn trunk!

We passed the
border an hour ago!

Actually, more like three hours.

apparently I took a nap.


Probably all this
carbon dioxide.

It's actually monoxide.

Ugh! Whichever of
carbon's many oxides.

Just let me out.

I got a bitch of a headache
and a bladder full of bourbon.

Just hang on!

They always hit me between
Schenectady and Albany.

Who hits you? The, uh...

Those guys.

ARCHER: What the shit? Ron!

Yeah, all right, so listen.

Remember when I said
maybe keep your gun handy?

vaguely. Well, the thing is...

What's the thing, Ron?

Oh. Never mind.


Goddamn it, Ron,
keep it straight!

Ha, ha, ha. Whoo!

Did you...? Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Ron, compensate!

I am compensating! Compensate!

No, no, no, look out, you're...!




Is what I was gonna say.

Right before I was
thrown clear of the vehicle,

almost exactly 100 linear feet.

Give me a break, huh?
That wasn't my fault.


Yeah, no, I mean, obviously,

this was all due to
the butterfly effect.

The what? Butterfly effect.

You know, a butterfly in
Africa lands on a giraffe's nose,

the giraffe sneezes,
that spooks a gazelle,

the gazelle bonks
into a rhinoceros,

and the rhinoceros blindly
stampedes into a phone booth,

calls New York somehow and says,

"Hey, go kill this idiot
Ron for a suitcase!"

Because the rhinoceros
speaks English!

What's in the suitcase, Ron?


Why is that in
the suitcase, Ron?

RON: What, I should
use a plastic bag?

Or this new thing
called the bank.

Yeah, well, it's not
exactly "clean money."

"No, shit." LANA:
No, I'm serious.

Name one, just one single favor,

that Archer ever
did for any of you.

ALL: Um...

Oh. Oh, my God, chlamydia.

Which put me over my deductible,

so the rest of the
year all my doctor visits

were totally free. Score.

ALL: Wow. Right?

How much did you
go to the damn doctor?

I don't know, like, a lot.

I kept getting chlamydia. Ow!

Get off, chlamydiot!

Oh, I get it, because
of the chlamydia.

Oh, and I'm an idiot.

Because, of course,
you keep getting robbed.

Why are you driving
around with dirty money?

Well, it's kind of a long story.

Well, we've got all day.
Nobody's gonna pick us up.

We look like The Ballad
of the Flim-Flam Man.

The what?

Guy Owen? Jesus,
Ron, read a book.

Maybe between biannual
suitcase robberies.

I don't know who
keeps tipping them off.

And anyway, you mean semiannual.

They're the same thing.

No, biannual means
every two years.

That's biennial.

Bi or semiannual
means every six months.

Oh, uh... Then,
yeah, biannually.

Or semi.

ARCHER: Speaking of...

Manhattan, yes. Yes, thank you.

And you're sure you
can get us there by 7?

Yeah, just hop on
in the back there.

What, like the "back" back?

Yeah, sorry, y'all,
can't ride in the cab.

Insurance bullshit.

Compliments of them
democratic queers in Congress.

Or whomever.

Okay, things are looking up.

No, no, no, hey,
come on, don't do that.

You're gonna get him in trouble.

Ron, nobody's
gonna miss one beer.


Or the 11 more I'm gonna drink.

Come on, he's an
independent trucker.

A small business owner,
out here busting his hump

to provide for his family.

Now, I'm telling
you, guys like him

are the lifeblood of America.

Not to mention he's driving us
nonstop straight to Manhattan.

Exactly, which should
take about three hours,

which equals 12 beers.

CHERYL: Ugh. Okay,
here's your fur coat

from the world's
farthest-away cold storage.

Did they tell you to
put it in a headlock?

No. Well?

I don't know. They
were, like, Persian.


ARCHER: You lost me.

Cadillac's not
my real last name.

I, uh... Well, yeah, I
figured the odds on that

were pretty huge.

I changed it from Kazinsky.

And before I sold
cars, I stole them.

Heh, heh. You what?

Ha, ha. I mean, this
was years and years ago.

Me, Tony, Donny, hey,
hey, Joey and Fat Mike.

That was my crew.

And, kiddo, we would
boost anything on wheels.

One time, you know, not
even on wheels. Ha, ha, ha.

That was '45, though.

That didn't hurt the war effort.

Anyhoo, one day it dawns on
me, we're doing all this work,

but the guys making the real
money own the chop shops.

So, uh, we revised
our business model.

For a few years,
let me tell you, kid,

we were going gangbusters.

Until one day, I'm out
getting meatball subs

for the crew, and boom,

cops got all of them.

ARCHER: Oh, Fat Mike
too? RON: All of them.

And they all got 20 years,
because not one of them,

not one of them, gave me up.

Anyway, I used our stash
to buy a legit used car lot,

then my first dealership,
and eventually...

Six, yeah, got it.

So the money is...

The least I can do.

It's like back pay for
all the years they lost.

Plus most of it is from
charging poor saps

for that freaking undercoating.

Never get the undercoating.

But I still don't know who
keeps hiring goons to stick me up.

Yes, you do. What
are you talking about?

Ron, who hasn't been complaining
about not getting his money?

Son of a... Fat Mike!

Oh, man, wait till
the crew hears this.

He'll be eating his meatball
subs through a straw.

Wow, and here Mother
thinks you are hands-down

the most boringest man
on this entire planet of Earth.


She said that? I mean...

He is hands-down
the most boringest man

on this entire planet of Earth.

Not in those exact words,
but... She thinks I'm boring?

Well, not after you tell her you
stole a Sherman tank, Master P.

No, no, no!

You can never
tell her about that.

I'm serious, about any of it.

I... None of it!

Do you hear me? Okay.

That's all behind me. I'm
almost completely legit now.

You gotta promise
you're not gonna tell her.

Okay, I promise.

Not that I'll ever
get the chance.

Hey, guys.

If that's, you know,
how you self-identify.

ARCHER: Wow, okay, so...

apparently we have stumbled
into what I'm just gonna assume

is some kind of
unspeakably rapey, snuff film.

Yep, look at that. There's
even a craft services table.

But my, uh... Stepdad.

Mother's husband has to
be back in time for the opera.

I know, rich people problems.

So even though all you guys
have bats and pipes and...

Wow. Shorty over there's
got a club with lumps on it,

kicking it Bedrock style.

Does anybody have a gun?

Anybody? Gun?

Probably looks a little
something like this? No?

Oh, okay, so I
guess just me, then.

Now, for various reasons,
which frankly don't concern you,

we can't call the police, so
we're just gonna go, but...

What? No, no, no.

Screw that. Shoot
these degenerate pricks.


RON: Starting with C.W.
McCall-Girl over there.

Ron. Kneecap
the sons of bitches.

Ron! What?!

What, are you out of bullets?

Well, how the hell was
I supposed to know?

You saw me shoot the mob guys.


So it holds a finite
number of bullets.

It's not a freaking
phaser. A what?


Oh, my God! It's just like Carol
said the old gypsy woman said!

Yeah, she said it would be like
some freaky parallel universe,

where John Waters
directed The Road Warrior.

Uh-huh. Then what, they kill me?

No. Shut up, that's
the awesome part.


There it is.

Look, Ron, the train.

I gotta start going
to that gypsy.

We'll never...

We can't make it.


Yes, we can, if...

Damn it, if only there was
a way to slow them down.

Make it rain? What
am I, an Indian?

PAM: Pacman Jones! Oh.

Uh-uh. No. Yes, Ron.

You don't defy the gypsy.

What about my crew?

I've been ripped off
the last three times.

What are they
supposed to live on?

What are they gonna live on

if you're eaten
by tranny bikers?

Ron, look.

We'd already be
dead if they weren't

in disturbingly sexy high heels.




Okay, that's still
a baller move.

Master P would totally be proud.

Or he'd release a diss track.

What does...?

Half the time I don't even
know what you're talking about.

Well, guess what, me neither.


Now, shut up and come
on. We've got a train to catch.

Diss tracks. Jesus Christ,
why did we even fight a war?

ARCHER: Ron! What? I'm serious!

this train, asshole!

RON: Oh, I'm the asshole?

It's... Just get
a running start.

I'm not jumping
on that damn thing!


How about now? Son of a...


Come on, run like
you're younger.


Okay, now give me
your hand. I can't!

Yes, you can!

Ah! Come on, grab it!

Grab it!

Well, now, hang on a second.

What are you doing?

Thinking about how much I
hate it that Mother married you.

You don't hate it
that she married me.

No, yeah, Ron, I...

No, you hate it that
she married anybody,

because you want
her all to yourself!

Ha, ha. What?

Paging Dr. Bates.
Dr. Norman Bates.

Hey, shut up! And
also... Ew. And...

Sterling, please!


RON: Oh, my God.
Thank you, Sterling.

ARCHER: You're welcome. Shut up.

Norman Bates. You know...

I apologize, that
was out of line.

But come on, you gotta admit,

the relationship
you two have is...


No, Ron, I don't have
to admit that, because...

Ugh. Okay, try not
to ruin it this time.


Jesus. Yeah.

See how their legs broke?

That's because they
didn't use the parachute fall.

Which I don't have
time to teach you...

Why would you want to?

I... Because I take
pride in my work?

Why would you wanna
teach it to me at all?

Oh. Well, we gotta
jump off the train.

We gotta ju...

We just jumped on the train!

Yeah, and it's going
about 20 miles an hour,

and there goes a
sign for Catskill, so...

So it'll take six
hours to get home.

If we don't get
rousted by the bulls.

I also don't have time to
teach you how to speak hobo.

Wait a minute, hang on.

Why would you want me
to make it to the opera?

I don't know.

Maybe you were right
about a few things,

and maybe you're
good for Mother, and...

Maybe shut up before
I lose my temper again.

I got a dealership in Catskill.

So we grab a Caddy
and drive in style.

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
we could just make it.

But it's going too
fast to jump off.

Look at those poles zipping by.

No, no, no. Don't
look at the poles.

They give you a
false perspective.

Try and focus on a
distant landmark, like...



ha, ha, ha, the ground. Whoo!


Hey, see how I did that?



Seven-thirty. We
just might make it.

Now, you sure he's
gonna be out there?

He better be.

Yeah, there he is.


Here you go, sir.

I took the liberty of taking
in the jacket a bit, and...

Woodhouse. Yes, sir?

Doesn't even come
close to making up

for leaving me
stranded in Montreal.

No, sir. So go get ready.

Your punishment will
begin when I get back

from dropping him
off at the opera.

Wait, you think
that's a good idea?

Ron, look, I know we
accidentally bonded a little,

but do not tell me how
to discipline my servant.

No, I meant dropping me off.

If your mother thinks
we're all buddy-buddy...

Yeah, I mean, that
would drive her insane.


Sometimes I think I
should just run away.

But who would take me in?

No one, Woodhouse.

No one.

And just what
in the hell is this?

Just dropping off my buddy, Ron.

Buddy? Why, how and since when?

Long story, babe.

Look, we really gotta hustle if
we wanna make that curtain.

Yeah, and I gotta
go make an old man

eat a big bowl of spiderwebs.

See you, buddy.




Woodhouse, I'm
gonna check that bowl.




Good day.