Archer (2009–…): Season 7, Episode 3 - Deadly Prep - full transcript

A business opportunity arises at a prep school reunion.

Because she's two, Lana!

What possible difference
could it make,

what pre-pre-school
she goes to?

Because if A.J. gets
into pre-pre at Country Day,

she's set through eighth grade.

Then she's basically
guaranteed a slot

at any prep school in L.A.!

Yeah, but why prep school?

Are we not even
considering public school?

Seriously?

Why not?
And in summertime,



instead of a lemonade stand,

she could have a teeny little
stripper pole, and--

Malory!
Mother!

Public school.

Might as well leave her by a
dumpster at the county fair

and hope she's taken in by carnies.

Wow.
Yeah, Mother, good call,

I didn't know we were drinking.

We're not.
Because Country Day

gets a thousand applicants
for ten spaces in pre-pre.

Please stop saying "pre-pre."
Shut up.

And A.J. is going to get
one of those spaces,

and you're not gonna screw
this up for her, Archer!

Archer? Swirling Archer?



Sterling!
Archer?

Ivy.

Dude, it's me! Ivy!

From St. Josh!

Yeah, I, uh --

Long time, no see!

What're you doing here?
Checking out the toilets?

No, I'm-- I mean I'm,
I'm, I'm--

Wow, still
got that stammer, huh?

I--
Hello, Richard Stratton the fourth,

though my good friends call me Ivy.

Malory Archer.

Hmm. Sterling never mentioned
a sister.

Oh, you.
I'm actually his mother,

if you can believe it.

I absolutely cannot.

Really? Hi, Lana Kane.
Hello.

So, Mr. Stratton,
are you a teacher here, or...

Oh, God, no.

No, I'm on the board.

And, Archer, you're in L.A.?
What's your line?

I-- um-- I'm a--
a private investigator?

No, seriously.

No, seriously.

Wow.

Oh.

And who might this person be?

This is our daughter, A.J.

We're here for a placement interview.

Our? Um...

Ours. As in mine and Archer's.

Yeah I'm not the maid or the nanny.

Good for you.
Good for you.

Gosh, the times we live in, huh?

So hey, private investigator.

I might actually be able to use you.

Oh, well...
Really?

Unfortunately, I don't think

we're taking on new clients
right now, so--

May I speak with you
a moment, please?

What is this "no new
clients" bullshit?

He's on the board, Archer.
One word from him, and A.J. is in.

Yeah, but--
Yeah, but shut up!

This is your daughter's future,
you dickhead!

So you are gonna take his case,
and you are gonna solve it,

and A.J.
is going to school here

and then grow up
to be a titan of industry

or an astronaut or some other shit!

Well?

Yeah, okay,
sure, glad to help.

Outstanding.

My office, two o'clock.
Yep.

Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?

She said, phrasing?
Boom. Huh?

Hey, what's happening?
Are you okay?

No!

♪♪

Sync & corrections by honeybunny
www.addic7ed.com

Mr. Archer? Mr.
Stratton will see you now.

Mr. Archer? Mr. Archer.

Boop. Sorry, had to take that.

Mr. Stratton,
I have Mr. Archer.

Thank you, Cerise.

Holy shit...
I know, right?

Consider it crushed.

Please, have a seat.
Oh, okay, thanks, uh...

Have a seat.
Yep.

Ah, Swirling Archer. Remember?

How we always used
to call you Swirling?

Yep.
Because of all the swirlies.

Yep.
We were just merciless.

But I was a pussycat compared to Whitney.
Yup.

Yep.
You remember Trent Whitney, right?

Yep, he was, uh, actually worse.

He's the Whitney
in Stratton-Whitney.

Oh.

Hedge fund.
Mm.

You played lacs with him, right?

You were center middies.
Yep.

I was biathlon, obviously.

Probably could've made
the Olympic team,

but whatever, lame.

And didn't you letter all four years?

No. Just three.
Are you sure?

I am, yeah. Freshman year
I didn't make varsity

because that winter I was
in the hospital for five weeks.

With what, AIDS?

Pneumonia.
From what?

Complications from AIDS?

No, I actually--
I actually got it

from one of those hilarious swirlies.
Hm?

Yeah, my freshman year,
you two were seniors.

Right before winter break.

Anyway, you each had

maybe twenty pounds on me,
and you cornered me

in the field house,
and you just laid into me,

No! No! No! No!

And then you got me upside
down, over the toilet,

and I started screaming,
because I look down

and the toilet's full of piss.
Whitney had pissed in it.

So I'm screaming,
and you're both laughing,

and it's all echoing off the tiles,

and then Whitney looks down at me

with these crazy eyes,
and he screams at me--

You think I won't kill you?

And then he punches me, hard,
and I'm choking on the blood

from my nose, and then you dunk
me, and hold me under for...

I honestly don't even know. I lost
consciousness.

But long story short, I
didn't make varsity that spring

because I was getting over pneumonia,

which I got because,
during that swirlie,

turns out I aspirated water
in my lungs.

Well, and presumably urine.

Look--

Archer, I want you to kill me.
I'm sorry?

Well, you should be!
Why the hell

would you say that to the headmaster?

I thought he was hinting at it!

Why would you think that?

When someone uses
the term "exclusive"

to describe something,
what are they--

No blacks or Jews.

Wh--
Exactly, so--

Malory, he was Jewish!

That's why I was so confused.

I'm not sure I'm following you.

I'm dying.
Liver cancer, stage four.

I've got maybe three months left,

every minute of which,
the doctors tell me,

I'll spend writhing in agony.

Jesus, Ivy.
Yeah.

Yeah, and honestly
I am too scared to face that.

At first I thought--

but...

What about good old pills and vodka?

Life insurance won't pay out
on a suicide,

and I'm not going to cheat my
wife out of ten million dollars.

No, I guess they--
but I can't, um--

You can, though.
Please, I'm begging you,

don't make me go through that.

Can't you go
to Switzerland, or--

No, no, but you can.

You can open a Swiss account

with the $100,000
I'm going to pay you.

I-- Ivy, I'm not
a hit man, I'm a--

A father, a father who'd like

a space at Country Day for his...

I guess, what, mulatto bastard?

I think technically
she's an octoroon bastard,

but our whole parenting
philosophy is sort of, uh,

post-label?

Yeah, good luck with that.
Yeah, so how do you wanna die?

Home invasion.
You break into my house,

I startle you, you shoot me.

I assume you have access
to a firearm?

I do, yeah-- But you can't
shoot me in the face.

Or the belly.
Or in the legs.

Why would I shoot you in the legs?

Well I just don't want to suffer.

That's kind of the whole point.

We could do two
in the back of the head:

That's painless, instantaneous.

Have you...
killed people before?

Uh, yeah.
Literally scores of them.

I actually used to be the
world's greatest secret agent?

Oh, before becoming an
unlicensed private investigator.

After a brief stint as a drug dealer.

Okay, let's do this.

Tonight.
Wait, when? What?

Tonight. Why wait?
I'll be home alone,

and it's the maid's night off.

My wife will be at a fundraiser.

Kids?
I think owls?

Do you have children?

Oh, no. Just a bedroom safe,

which I will conveniently leave open,

and in which will be $100,000.

And a letter of recommendation
for Abbiejean...

Archer-Kane? Kane-Archer?
I'll leave the name blank.

Yeah, I should
probably know that...

Okay, so where and when?

Malibu, there's my address.

The when I don't want to know.

I'm going to go home,
kiss my wife goodbye,

and then start pounding Armagnac.

Alrighty then,
see ya at like, 10:00?

I don't want to know!

Sorry, sorry.
It won't be 10:00.

Get out. Or will it?

Get out!

***
reads the card of a man ♪

♪ A knight who is armored
with a savage tan ♪

Oh, hey,
good, you got the ammo?

10 rounds, custom made, hand loaded.

32 caliber, hollow point, copper jacketed.

Fragmentation round.

***

No, Jethro Dull, it's for a case.

What case? What are you talking about?
And why wasn't I informed?

Calm down, Cyril. It's just a, um,
corporate security evaluation.

Unless you want me
to turn down... ten grand.

Well no, obviously I don't--
wait, why did you hesitate there, on "ten"?

It's a lotta money, Cyril, which I
have to go earn for the agency now!

Wh-- Hey, don't forget
to get a--

Recommendation letter.
Got it. Shut up!

Ten grand my butt.

I bet Archer's
charging them twice that.

Lana, I want you
to tail him tonight, and--

No, I can't. Okay? Tonight I have
to bake a huge batch of hamentashen

and take them over
to that headmaster.

Wait, what, at his house?
Yes.

That sounds like a really bad idea.

So does minding my business.

And apparently her business

is ambiguous,
poorly-worded burns.

Yeah, right?
Okay, so Ray.

I want you to follow Archer
tonight, and-- Oooh, can't.

Why not?
Don't get shitty with me!

Her excuse was hamentashen,
and you didn't even blink!

Since when do you get a free pass
around here just for having a vagina?

Yeah, Cyril!

And also, what is it good for?

What is what good for?

The free pass for havin' a vag.
Duh.

I assume we can expect discounts

at local businesses and theme parks?

Oh for the-- fine,
I'll do it myself!

Well, good luck with no vagina! Ugh.

Not you, Ms. Archer!

Although... Wh-- She's
obviously got a vagina.

Yeah, probably why
she's such a bitch.

Jesus, really?

A glass house?

Probably so people driving by
have to watch him

bang his model wife on a
mattress stuffed with doubloons.

Not tomorrow, buddy.
Then all they're gonna see is,

well, I guess a bunch of cop cars,

and whatever the coroner drives,
probably a van...

Oh and your wife's car,
since she's--

she's the one who's gonna find you.

But, ya know, who's to say
if that's any worse

than being forced to watch you die

a slow and agonizing
death? Right?

Plus I didn't give you cancer.

Plus you're the world's biggest dick.

Except for maybe Whitney.
Oh, and Hitler.

Plus, I didn't give you cancer.

Well, I can't say I blame him.

I'd be getting drunk too,
in his shoes...

I can't imagine what it would be
like to know when you're gonna die.

Or even if.

Feel like I
should say a few words.

But none spring to mind.
Okay then.

Archer, you can't
do this... yet.

What if he didn't open the safe?

Where even is the safe?
Dammit...

What the--

What the shit,
Ivy, what are you--

You think I won't kill you?

What the-- Whitney?

Swirling?

Oh, God! Ow!

Oh, shut up.
It's not that bad.

I have no pinky toe!
You asshole!

Hey! I'm not the
asshole here! Whitney!

I'm the guy with the gun! Not
the asshole, with eight toes!

Nine, you-- Oh, yeah. Yeah.

So, since you're the
only person on the planet

that I'd like to kill more than
Ivy, and since I haven't yet,

why did he hire me to do that?

I don't know, he's crazy!

And then maybe, in his paranoid mind,

he thinks that for
the past five years maybe

I've been embezzling from the fund and
also maybe sleeping with his wife?

For five years?

We maybe just had our anniversary.

Hey, congratulations...
Oh, thanks, man.

On still being a massive dickhole.

Okay, so I promised Ivy I'd kill you.

No, no, wait, wait, wait, wait!

Look, whatever he's paying you,

I will double it!

Well he's paying
me a hundred--

dammit-- and fifty
thousand dollars, so--

- Ahaa!
- What?

Ten thousand, my butt!
I knew it!

Are you-- Cyril,
you followed me?

You lied to me!

Yeah, but you didn't know that.

On some level, I think we both did.

Hello, Cyril Figgis, owner and lead
investigator of The Figgis Agency.

How's it going? Trent
Whitney, murder victim.

Would-be murder victim!

I'm sorry,
what-what's happening?

My partner paid him to kill me.

He what? You what? Under
false pretenses, Cyril!

Calm down, I thought
I was killing the other guy.

Why were you killing anybody?

Because I thought he had cancer.

And also in prep school

both of them bullied the
absolute shit out of me.

What? Seriously, dude?

You were going to murder me 'cause
I picked on you a little bit?

A little?
You almost killed me!

I spent freshman year
in the hospital!

With what, AIDS?

Pneumonia!
From what, complications from AI-- Ow!

Jesus Christ.
And if I'm being honest, yeah,

I'm sure the bullying had some
influence on my decision,

but I was actually murdering
you-- well, Ivy-- for money.

And that makes it better?

Money and cancer,
then! Jesus!

But don't tell me you never fantasized
about killing your bullies, Cyril.

Cyril?

Cyril!

It puts the lotion in the basket!

What? What?

What're we doing?
Um, I think Whitney

was about to pay me $300,000?

Not to kill him?
That's extortion!

I know, Cyril, but think of the
alternative. His hands are tied.

And yes, yes, dude, I will pay you,

but the money's not in my house.
It's, it's, it's--

It's in
Tom's house, and-and Bill's house.

And and and and and and and!

Okay, okay, wait, wait!

Dude, check this out. What if I
paid you 500, and you kill Ivy?

Mmm, no, I think just the three.

Ivy's a cuckold, betrayed
by his wife and friend.

You're a cuckolding thief, and
between us, clearly an alcoholic.

He's an alcoholic.
He didn't know

he was gonna die tonight, Cyril.
For him it's just Tuesday.

Anyway, you're both so obviously
and profoundly unhappy

with who you became, that
I bet you're both gonna die

in some bizarre
murder-suicide,

and that is reward enough for me.

Yeah. That and $300,000.

Yeah. Well, you
may be right about that.

But I'll tell you this, Swirling.

I shoulda drowned you in piss when
I had the chance, you little fa--

Huh.
Jeezy Petes!

- Great shot, Archer.
- Yeah, right?

But as much as I'd like to
take credit for that...

Ahh!
Yeah, right?

Ahh.
Oof.

Who the heck is shooting at us?

Cyril, c'mon.

It's obviously Ivy.

C'mon, Swirling, where are you?

I bet this was his plan all along.

He follows me,
I kill Whitney, he kills me,

looks like a robbery.
But I thought he had cancer.

No, dummy, that was just a ruse.

But either way, when I had cancer,

I bet I killed, like, 20 guys,

so it's not a death sentence
anymore, is my point.

No, but this is!

Yeah, he almost made the Olympics.

What?
Biathlon, I know,

you think to yourself
"Pretty gay sport," but--

Holy shit!
What?

You think he knows Ray?

Cyril, stop it!
I mean it, hang up!

Gimme, Cyril. Dammit! Get off.
Stop it! Archer!

This is Lana Kane.
Leave a message.

Lana! Lana, we're--

We're fine.
Everything's great.

Bye, hon.
Oww!

Jeezy Petes!
See?

I told you not to call her.

Well, we can't call the police.

No, uh, this does not look good.

Wonder why she didn't pick up.

I can explain.

What, why you're stalking this guy?

Stalking?
It's just hamentashen!

Okay. You wanna
explain this?

You got a license for that?

Well, I'm a private investigator,
so--

Got a license for that?

Well, not, um, you know,
technically, but-- No.

All you got is baby pictures,
a Sub Club card and...

what appears to be a very
crudely-drawn "vagina pass."

Okay, so call Ray, on your cell!

I can't.
Why not?

After the whole biker
voicemail fiasco...

Mother took it away.
What?

What are you, 9 years... Ow!

Haha! Ow!
Haha! Ow!

Shut up! And then you call Ray.

Cyril, why aren't you calling Ray?

Because I don't have a mobile carrier.
Why not?

I've been comparison shopping
for the best rate plan.

For three months? There are
literally two companies!

What the hell can
you possibly be comparing?

Their respective rate plans!

Wow. Okay, so if we
live through this,

which I wouldn't bet
on, I-- Wait, shut up!

Do you smell that?

Oh, my God, did you shit yourself?

No, that!

Oh that. Yeah, that's gas. What?

A round must've clipped
the gas line to the stove.

Oh my God.
Yeah, not great.

Even a tiny spark--

And we're dead.

So while you're getting the
money out of the safe-- What?

No, nuh-uh! There's
nothing between

the safe and the bullets!

There's me.
I'm gonna draw his fire.

I'm gonna make a run for the car.
Meanwhile, you clear out the safe!

Okay, but-- Wait, what's to keep
you from just leaving me here?

Wha-- The money,
you idiot!

Oh right, that makes-- What?
One, two, three, go!

Ahh.

Seriously.
That must be so sticky.

Son of a-- Can't have anything nice.

Cyril, let's go!

Hang on! There's--

Cyril! I swear to God
I will leave you!

Ah. Ooh.

Archer, wait!

Oh, good.
You made it.

In
the-- In the safe he had

all this stuff
from-- from--

Holy shit!
Jeezy Petes!

Dammit! Should've gone
to the owl thing.

What?

Longwater!
Just like the--

The Veronica Deane case, I know.

What the hell was in the safe?

Files, disks, all kinds of stuff!

And you just left it?
You left me!

No, I merely tried to!

Hey, Swirling!

Wow, think of how good
you'd have to be

to make the Olympic--
What the?

Cyril, what're you--

Suppressing fire!

So, do you have more bullets, or...

No.
Oof!

Cyril, I am so mad at you right
now, my mouth tastes like copper.

Well, but are you actually mad at me,

Yes!
or...

- the bullies who tormented a scrawny
teenage boy with no friends? - You!

Because I find it interesting
that you were bullied in school,

and now as an adult you're a bully.

Do you want to talk
about how you bully me?

I do, Cyril.
I really do,

but I'm afraid I'll tear up,

and then not be able to see the road

and then plunge us off the cliff,
and then if you're still alive,

strangle you to death with
my bloody and broken hands!

I also find it interesting that you,

Sterling Archer, man without fear,
are running away from your bully.

Because Cyril Figgis,
man without sense,

wasted all the ammunition!

Well, but I

think in a much larger sense

you've been running from
those two your entire life.

And whether it's your personal
relationships, or-- Archer?

Take the wheel, dummy!
And you!

Me what?

How you like that, Ivy?

Fighting somebody bigger and
stronger than you? Crazy, right?

Imagine what it was like for a
lonely, skinny 13-year-old kid

who'd been to six different
boarding schools since he was five!

Hint! It wasn't great!

Yeah, just gonna
give them some space,

do the good old
"three Mississippi."

But I hope it
was great for you, Ivy,

because your bullying days are over!

Go ahead, Swirling!
Shoot me!

Oh, huh-uh, you don't get
to take the easy way out, Ivy.

You're going to jail!
Well, you say that.

Whoa!

Archer!

Oh my God, oh my God,
oh my God, Archer!

Yes, what? Shut up.

Oh, my God, how are you still alive?

Jumped out at the last second, Cyril.

The same kind of
split-second decision-making

that caused you to leave
a bunch of clues in the safe!

Idiot!
Ow!

Did you learn nothing from this?

No.

So listen, I know you've had
your heart set on AJ going to Country Day,

but I've really given it
some serious thought,

and I'm not sure
it's the best thing for her.

I know all kids can be bullies,
but at private school

it seems like there's even more, I
dunno, elitism or snobbery or whatever.

So I really want us to think about A.J.
going to public school.

Because studies have shown
that if a child's intelligent,

and I think A.J. really is, then it
doesn't matter where they go to school.

It's much more important that
learning is fostered in the home

by loving and supportive parents.

Plus with the restraining order,

you can't go within
500 feet of the school,

which means I'd be stuck doing
drop-offs and pick-ups every day.

Which, ya know, not doing that.

Anyway, so keep your
chin up, or down I guess.

Shapiro's at your
bail hearing right now,

so you'll be out of here before...

Um, dammit. Um...

You trying to think
of a lesbian joke?

No, hair joke.
Something about braids?

Ah, no, it's gone. Okay stay hard!
What?

Archer! Can you at least put some
money on my canteen account?

No!

Sync & corrections by honeybunny
www.addic7ed.com