Archer (2009–…): Season 4, Episode 7 - Live and Let Dine - full transcript

The Isis crew takes on an undercover mission working as the wait and bus staff for a celebrity chef. There, they try to save an ambassador from being murdered, while Archer takes on a job as a cook working for the nightmarish head chef and discovers he's a natural.

MAN: Why do I seem
annoyed? Let's see.

Instead of savoring this
espresso, this cigarette

and the four minutes
of free time I have today,

I'm talking to you cockwits.

What else? Oh. I'm
doing a special seating

for diplomats from the State
Department and Albania.

So not only do I
have to create a meal

out of yogurt and a
goddamn sheep's head,

there's been some
vague security threat,

so my highly-trained
staff has been infiltrated...

Sorry. By Shithead Squadron.

Just need to grab
some menus for the...

Camera? Why is there a camera?

I assume because this restaurant
can't hold 3 million viewers.

WOMAN: Two-point-eight.
It's not promoted properly.

This is gonna be televised?

WOMAN: Yeah, the
show's called Bastard Chef.

Hm. Excuse me.
Thank you, giraffe lady.

Anyway, those ISIS
idiots are doing security

and for some reason, they
have to do that undercover, so...



ARCHER: Whoops.

That's probably
why I seem annoyed.

Let's go, Chet, chop-chop.

You're the one who dropped
it. Why do I have to clean it up?

You're the garçon de cuisine,
which means kitchen boy,

whereas I am sous
chef, which means

shut your face and
mop up the damn yogurt.

Why do you get to be sous
chef? I have fine-dining experience.

I used to own a restaurant.
It was a burger joint.

Cyril... I mean
Chet? LANA: Archer?

She means Randy.
Can I borrow you?

Sure, um... Mitzi.

My name is not
Mitzi. Walk-in. Now.

Yeah, I got time for a
quickie. Wait, a what?

Arch... Randy.

Whoa. Whoa, unh!


You guys can
edit that out, right?

WOMAN: Yes. But we won't.

So quick question: Do
you think it's a good idea

talking to a TV crew
when we're undercover?

Fake names, duh.

Follow-up question: Do you
know how TV actually works?

I... They're not gonna broadcast

this episode in the
restaurant tonight.

Wait, are you guys?
WOMAN: No, we...

Like a closed-circuit
deal or? WOMAN: No.

Because come to think of it,

I actually don't know
how TV works either.

How about geopolitics? Uh...

Because if anything
goes wrong tonight,

U.S.-Albanian relations could
become even more unstable, so...

CASTEAU: What the shit?

Speaking of unstable,
that guy is a powder keg.

Why is there
yogurt fricking soup

all over my spotless
fricking kitchen?

Randy did it. Whoa.
First of all, I didn't,

and second, these
bowls are the worst.

Look, they're,
like, totally slipper...





LANA: Seize, please
hold. Seize, please hold.

Seize, please hold.
Seize, please hold.

Ugh! What're you doing?

I'll tell you what
I'm not doing.

Besides your job? My job is...

Answering the damn
phone. A task so simple

if the Health Department would
let me, I'd have a monkey do it.

Why? No, I was being facetious.

I would never allow a
monkey in my restaurant.

Except in the form of an
exquisitely-prepared entrée.

No, I mean you're
booked solid for...

Holy shit, the next 10 months?

Why bother answering the phone?

To tell people
they can't eat here.

So to drive people
away, basically.

Those people. That's not the
real number for reservations.

I'm sorry? The real
number's a secret

closely guarded by
people I deem acceptable.

So just so I'm clear,

instead of assessing the
security needs for tonight,

I'm answering phone
calls from people

who aren't good
enough to eat here.

Yeah, so try to
sound apologetic,

but not, you know, overly so.

Seize. I'm sorry, we
have nothing available

for the next 10
months. Okay, bye.

Keep trying. CHERYL: Ugh! Why?

Besides I said so?
They're booked.

If I'd known I
couldn't get a table,

I would have never
agreed to do security.

Why do they need
security, anyway?

There was a threat of some
sort, it's all rather vague,

but when those State
Department dweebs

see just how
good ISIS really is,

mark my words, one day
soon, we'll be a major player.


What? No, you know, just...

You say that
like you believe it.

Hey. Get me a table,

or the fish gets it.



Jesus, what's the big deal?

That's my fish. His
name's Jermaine.

Oh! I thought he
was just your food.

Food? We're not
making food, people.

We're creating cuisine.

Food is what a dog
eats, or a tourist.

Wait, a dog ate a tourist?

What? That was
ambiguously worded.

Was that ambiguous?

Why are you antagonizing him?

Cyril, come on, it's my
nature. See? Uh, yeah, kind of.

CASTEAU: Well, how about this?

Plus, he can't aim for shit.
He's pulling to the right.

If you can't turn
that into promo gold,

you should honestly
consider suicide.

Hang on, there's a bumper.
Now prep you [BLEEP] maggots.

Then bleep [BLEEP], since
Darlene won't let me say that.

But seriously, guys, we do
have a lot of food to prep, so...

Uh, the food's splattered
all over the wall and floor

and, uh, Chet here so...

So scoop it into a
bowl. Nobody will know.

It's Albanian glop. The
entrée is a fricking sheep face.

I value all cultures
equally highly.

Uh, should you be
smoking in here?

Should you be flaming
in here? You know...

Boom. Bumper.

He's just such a bastard.


And that's not my name!

ARCHER: Yeah. "Child
murderer" shouldn't be hyphenated.

That makes it seem like he's
a murderer who's also a child.

WOMAN: Actually, no, it
doesn't. Actually, yes, it does.

"Publicity whore" isn't
hyphenated so why...

Why the shit are you
maggots not prepping?

I... Wait, are you
doing a bumper?

Coming up, on Bastard Chef:



Ha-ha. I have seriously
never been happier. Ow!


ARCHER: Boom. Bumper.

LANA: Wait, so what
did Malory say exactly?

I... She said "credible threat."

I know, but what
kind of credible...

Cy... Chet, I need
those onions! Yes, chef.

Heh. He has to call me chef.

How and why are
you enjoying this?

Well, for one thing,
I'm pretty drunk.

And besides
bartending in Polynesia,

I've never had a real job, so...

Wait, never?

Well, when I was 10, I asked
if I could sell Grit door to door

so I could win some
of those x-ray specs?

Mother said they were fake.

Also, that I'd get
raped and murdered.

It is like peeling
an onion with you.

Right? Oh, wait.

Chet! Onions!


Here. What dish
are they going in?


Oh, eat a dick. That's
"Eat a dick, chef."

For a third thing, I actually
might be good at this.

Oh, yeah, nice technique,
Randy. ARCHER: Thank you, chef.

Want me to prep the 'shrooms?
No, you do the aubergines.

Right away, chef. If Chet
gets his incompetent thumb

out of his equally
incompetent ass!

Nice. Yes, and that
is excellent ABBAB.

Always Be Berating
and Belittling.

And you, time to lean,

time to get your
distracting tits off my line.



Hey, is something burning?

Oh, wait, it's you, because
you just got burned.

Oh, my God, you
admire that dick.

He's a master chef,
Lana, which turns out

is not nearly as gay a
job as I thought it was.

It's no secret agent, but
it's way above architect.

Speaking of secret
agent, at some point

before the restaurant
is full of diplomats,

I'd love to go over the...
Menu, I know, let's...

Plan. On going
over the menu, yes.

Get child murderer
Gilles de Rais in here,

and I'll walk you through it.

CASTEAU: Answer the
goddamn phone, woman!

Seriously, Mitzi,
how hard is that?

Ugh! Now nobody is picking up!

A monkey could
do this stupid job.

MALORY: And yet
I pay you to do it.

Oh, so now I'm a monkey?
MALORY: No, because a monkey...



What is this, Spain?

I mean, it is just
constant ABBAB.

Is that supposed to
be funny? PAM: Yes.

And I also think you
might have low blood sugar.

And I need you to focus

so we can get Cruella
de Vil's mom in there

a table before
she kills Jermaine.

It's impossible.

And what's so important
about a stupid goldfish?

Okay, A, he's not
a goldfish, and B...

Please don't berate me.
Please don't make me, and B...

Tell him, Chi.


Jermaine, Jermaine, Jermaine!

Without getting
all into the details,

I may or may not owe
$14,000 to some people

you wouldn't wanna owe 14 cents.

I so can't relate to that.

Could you try? No.


Could you pretend to try? Yes.

CYRIL: Absolutely not.

Absolutely yes. Come
on, I need the tongues first,

then every bit of meat
scraped off those cheeks.

Is that all? You don't
want the fricking eyeballs?

Oh, okay, so the tongues second.

I'm not cutting
out their eyeballs.

Not with that.
Use a melon baller.

Oh, I'm gonna go make a
big pitcher of melon balls.

You want one? No, I
don't want a melon ball.

Suit yourself. But trust me,

you are gonna
want a melon baller.

Okay, what's the
word? How we doing?

Well, I've swept the
entire place for explosives

and it's clear. That's
the good news.

The bad news is if this
vague threat is gunmen,

we've got ingress points
here and here and...

You are talking about eggplants.

No, Lana, I'm talking
about aubergines.

They're the... They're
the same thing.

Oh, then where
does auberge fit in?



Then go answer
the goddamn phone.


Okay, moment
of truth, taste test.

Uh, please don't B
and/or B me too hard.

Mmm, not bad. Not bad
at all. Thank you, chef.

Just needs a little
kick in the ass.

Speaking of, where's Chet?

In the walk-in,
weeping like a child.


Nice. Man, you should
have been a chef.

Oh. Pshaw.

I'm serious. Maybe
being a secret agent

isn't your true calling.

Yeah, my mother says that a lot.

Oh, what, so now I suppose

you're just going to
sit there and pout?

Well, I didn't get
you into this, mister.

You got yourself into this.

And the clock is
ticking, my friend.

Mm. So just so I'm clear,

you want me to
use this top-secret

934-TX telephonic isolator unit

for which you have neither
clearance nor written permission

to even gaze upon, to
find all phone numbers

associated with this
physical address.

Yeah, Glenda Gotrocks
here says ritzy joints like Seize

have reservation numbers
that are strictly on the QT.

What is this, Spain?
I mean the '30s?

A flagrant violation
of my sworn duty,

for which my recompense will be?

If, in fact, I heard
you correctly.

Yes, you, in fact, did,
and said recompense

will, in fact, be a handjob.

No. From her.

Yes. What? No!

Yes. Please.

If I don't make good
on that fish fight,

you'll find me in a dumpster
somewhere out in Red Hook.

If you're ever in Red Hook

snooping around in
random dumpsters.

Great, so it's
give him a handjob

or change up my
whole Sunday routine?

Um, apparently.
Ugh! This is so unfair.

Okay. But I am not
spitting in your face.

I... Take it or leave it, dude.


Hello? See how I did that?

Just picked up the
phone and talked into it?

I... And how did
you get this number?

Which Kennedy?
Because if it's Teddy,

he still owes me
for a urinal, so...

Oh. Oh!

Yes, absolutely.

Eight o'clock, table
for four. Thank you.

Thank you! Hoo-hoo.


Thank you.


I think I'm in love with you.

And yet I will die alone.

Yeah, probably.


listen up, people.

Tonight has to go perfectly

because it is wall to
wall VIP's out there.

We've got the
Albanian ambassador

and all his little
diplomat buddies.

And also little Vernie Kennedy,

JFK's crazy niece or
cousin or something.


then Teddy walks into the library

wearing nothing
but a whiskey sour.

Hoo-hoo. Teddy. Such a scamp.

So no screwups.

Now get to work. I'm
talking to you, Gayvid Niven.

Oh, eat a di...
CASTEAU: What was that?

Yes, chef. Randy,
ready the soup.

I'll be out front favoring
the guest of honor

with an aperitif
and my presence.

And here you are,
Mr. Ambassador.

I prefer to be called
Your Excellency.

Well, people in
hell want ice water.

Ray. What is your problem?

Besides not knowing if I should
add an 18-percent gratuity?

Because I can, it's a
party of six or more,

but if they were gonna tip 20
percent, I just hosed myself.

Not to mention
U.S.-Albanian relations.

So instead of insulting
the ambassador,

whom we're here to protect...

Protect him from what?

The only threat around here
is... Dying of thirst, apparently.

I've been trying to get a
table at Seize for months

and when I finally do,

instead of Casteau's
world-famous risotto

I have to eat sheep
face. Wait a minute.

For God's sake, the
least you could do

is keep my wine glass full.

Oh, my God, it's
you. You're the threat.

You couldn't get a table, so
you made an anonymous threat

and got ISIS hired
to do security.

Well, that's still no
excuse for poor service.

Wow. Okay, you know what?

Excuse me. Yes,
tell them all about it.

That'll do wonders for
U.S.-Albanian relations.

Bon appétit.

Hi, yeah, are you done
shouting at my guests

in barely-passable French?


Then why don't you go
help Mincent Price with the...


ARCHER: Eighty-six soup. Ugh.

man, I'm fricking starving.

Here you go, gang, get in here.

I brought a bunch
of crackers and jelly.

You promised
you'd stop doing that.

They were in my
tuxedo from last time.


For the love of
God, will you...?

Kicked out in the first act.

Well, we didn't have
to fight for a cab.


Tell Randy, as his final act

before I walk back
into the kitchen

and murder him with
his own shoes, to...

Fire the entrées. ARCHER: Ugh!

Yeah, might as well.
Because, Randy,

except, of course, for your
mother, there is no threat.

Tell that to my tave kosi,

the tender flesh of which

I'm now ruining
under the broiler

because I have no soup!

BOTH: Ew. And
whose fault is that?

The... Whatever idiot invented
those slippery-ass bowls.

Now, get back here
and mop it up, Chet.

Chef, eat a dick.

A toast. To His Excellency,

the ambassador extraordinary
and plenipotentiary of Albania.

And to a long, peaceful
and prosperous friendship

between his great
nation and ours.


While we sit here
dying of thirst.

Hang on, I might have
a juice box in my...


Thank you, chef.
The dolma, the rakia.

I feel I am home in Albania.

Just wait until you
try my tave kosi.

Oh! Tave kosi is
my most favorite.

Excuse me, I need to make
sure my sous chef hasn't ruined it.

ARCHER: It's ruined.
No, it's actually really good.

Cyril and/or Chet?

No, Cyril and Chet
are now vegans.

Aw. Just when I thought I
couldn't hate them more.

Now get these
entrées to the table.

Move, maggots!
Everybody take a tray.

ALL: Yes, chef.
Right away, chef.

Not you, Chet. You look
like a dinosaur's tampon.

Boom! Bumper. I
am just killing it today.

Well, finally.

Yeah, sorry, we
were dealing with

this incredibly
obnoxious hoax, so...

So can I at least assume
there will be a wine pairing?

Mmm, Chef Randy,

this is the best tave
kosi I ever tested. I...


CHERYL: I'll have
what he's having.

Wow. You really do
like it. Your Excellency?

He's dead.

MAN: What? PAM:
Holy shit snacks.

CHERYL: Then I don't
want what he's having.

Wait. No, the threat
was a hoax. A what?

Lana! Oh, my God.

You can forget about ISIS

working for the State
Department, ever.

And, sir, please, I'm sure this
was just an allergic reaction.

Okay? Yes.

To poison. What?

No, I started with the
freshest ingredients, like...

Oh, my God, the mushrooms.

Casteau must've put poison
mushrooms in the... Pam!


What? Nothing. Here, have mine.

You sure? Pam!

Let's get Casteau before
he... CYRIL: He's gone.

And also on the
phone. Oh, Cyril.

Oh, Teddy. Ever the scamp.

Sir, please, let's have
dessert and then...

No time. We have
an embassy to close.

So that's a no on
the wine pairing?

Malory, a man has
just been murdered.

But how? We all ate a little.

Or a lot. You said
I could have it.

But if it wasn't the food...
How did he get poisoned?

CASTEAU: I coated his
glass with cyanide, you idiots,

for the toast.
Oh, there's toast?

Give me that. But, chef, why?

Six million bucks,
which I'm gonna use

to deficit-finance a
new show where I travel,

so I can insult people's
cooking all over the globe.

Now, there's a
show I'd like to...

Wait, you won't
get away with this.

CASTEAU: Well, you say that...

Oh, and remember when I said
you could've been a great chef?

ARCHER: Yes. Every morning,

I make two cooks
like you in the toilet.

Why?! Why couldn't he
let me have the dream?

Why can't you let
me have some wine?

What is this, Spain in the '30s?

And way, way more importantly,

who would pay $6 million just
to make ISIS look like idiots?

For that much money,

we could have built a
whole new bionic man.

Don't tempt me,
Barry. Boom! Bumper.




Remind me not to piss you off.

Remind yourself.

Yes, dear.