Archer (2009–…): Season 8, Episode 2 - Archer Dreamland: Berenice - full transcript

A mysterious woman hires Archer to fake her death but Archer is unable to rise to the occasion.

So, what are we doing? Are we just
jumping right into this, or--

Not literally, you ass! You scared me half
to death! Ow! Ow! Will you-- Ow! Damn it!

You idiot!
Ow! Stop it!

What is your-- Ow!

I would like a drink, please.

Ow. Join this
great new club.

Brandy, if you have it.
Fresh out, turns out.

Good Lord. You should have your
underbutler fire the housekeeper.

Yeah, maybe after he's done getting
the caviar stains out of my spats.

I was being facetious,
Mr. Archer.

I know you're poor.

Well, middle class.
This cannot be the middle.

Look, Miss...

Heiress to the vast Vandertunt
publishing fortune.

So, I've had a long day.


[gulping continues]

My partner was murdered.
My office was burgled.

I pissed off two crime bosses
and a dirty cop,

and crushed the ankles
of a psychopath who,

just for kicks, melts people.

So, as much as I would
genuinely like to,

I'm afraid I don't have time
to kill you.

You misunderstand me,
Mr. Archer.

I want you to help me
fake my death.

For which I am prepared
to offer you $10,000.

And my body.

The ten grand is plenty.

I'm afraid
this is nonnegotiable.

Do your worst.

I will.

♪♪ [theme]

Ugh, so when I said do your worst...

I-- I know. Sorry. Long day.

Uh, plus my ear hurts?

I have codeine!

Because heirs to fortunes

like your family's
don't fake their own deaths.

They murder their parents and blame
it on some poor Hispanic or Negro.

Yes, I thought about that, but I
don't know any Hispanics or Negroes.

No, they make up
the Hispanic or Negro.

I honestly wouldn't know
where to begin.

Okay, but--
Boy, these are good.

Mmm! Aren't they?

But putting aside, for now, why
you'd want to fake your own death--

Because I have to
get away from my family.

They're a seething cauldron
of neurotic, alcoholic,

narcissistic, quasi-incestuous

How quasi?

I don't know. A four?

Out of what?
Are you going to help me or not?

I-- Look, I really don't think
you've thought this thing through.

Mm. For starters, even if you pull this
off, what are you gonna do for money?

Well, I--
I shall work, of course.

As what?

Uh, one of those.

A... food-perambulator.

Well, my apologies. I thought you
were heading into this half-cocked.

Said the pot to the kettle.
[giggles] My ear hurt!

You're not some runaway kid whose
family couldn't care less she's gone.

They're gonna
be looking for you.

So, to make this work,
you'd need a body.

And not just any body.
A body your same size,

same height and weight, your
same general bone structure.

A body-- I mean, if you're gonna
do what has to be done here,

a body with your exact same
dental records. [squealing]

[laughing giddily]
Who is that?

I don't know!

I mean, obviously she's a maid.

I just don't know her name, because--
She's a maid?


Did you kill her?

Wha-- No! Jesus!

My brother did.

Well, technically, I suppose
the drunken abortionist did.

But my brother got her pregnant
in the first place.

And my father
would've killed her

if she had refused
to get an abortion, so...

But, I mean, not really?

Why do you think my father started
the Spanish-American War?

Wasn't it sugar?
He got my aunt pregnant.

And sugar?
I guess. I don't know. Shut up!

[sighs] The point is,
this poor girl was dead

the minute her panties hit the straw.

In the stables.

But want to know the best part?
That wasn't it?

What are you-- Uh, no, don't--

Not one cavity, not one filling!

Since when and how do you know that?
Don't you see?

Her teeth are perfect.
My teeth are perfect.

Ergo, this plan is perfect!

I mean, dentally, maybe,
but if she just disappears?

Think of her family.
Do you think I haven't?


I think you haven't.

If you help me do this,

I'll make an anonymous payment
to her family

for an additional $10,000.

Um, how does that
bring them closure?

[scoffs] It comes with a
note saying she's dead.

Look, nothing we can do will bring
this poor girl back to life.

I know, but--
Not even a voodoo priestess,

flown here from Haiti
at great expense,

and then every year,
on Grandma's birthday,

they throw it your face!

So the best thing we can do now

is to fill this car
to the rafters with dynamite

and shove it over a cliff.

That is literally
the worst thing we can do.

Oh, right.

Dynamite would blow her teeth
all over the stupid beach.

Well, and--
And then what's the point?



So we'll fake the crash tonight, but
first we're gonna plant a few seeds.

[scoffs] First of all,
if I wanted your seed--

Seeds of deception.

Oh, sorry.
I thought you meant--

I know what you meant.

What in God's name
are you doing?

Scrooching down.
Well, stop it!

Stop that this instant!
You stop--

Shut up. I don't want anybody
in Dreamland to see me.

Well, I don't want anyone to see
me being chauffeured by a dwarf!

Yeah. Then we'd have to find a dead
dwarf and a tiny chauffeur uniform.

To-- Oh, never mind.

But she can't be dressed like a maid,
so we need to put her in your clothes.

[gasps] Right! Then we
should go to my hotel.

Which is...


Oh! your hotel?

The Chesley, on Sunset.
That wasn't so hard, was it?

[snorting chuckle]
That's what I said.


[Dutch crying]
[Trexler] Hey, hey, hey, hey. Come on.

Where's my tough guy?

Where's my tough old Dutch?

There he is.

Huh? Now listen.

Shut up and listen to me, okay?

Because I know--
[stifled sob]

I know this isn't,
you know, ideal,

but you gotta
pull yourself together!

No, no. I'm sorry.

That was a poor choice of words,

but for Christ's sake, man.

There's two dead men
walking around there

who stole from me--
[crying softly]

i.e., my whores, and from you,
i.e., your feet!

And you are gonna find them,

and you are gonna
bring them to me,

and then I'm gonna make them wish they
were in hell with a case of the clap!

How can I?

They took my feet, Lenny.

They took my [sobbing]


Shut up.

[dial tone]

I don't pay you to be sorry.

I pay you to make
other people sorry.

Now here.
[line ringing]

Do what he tells you.

What who tells me?

The guy that's gonna fix you.


[speaking German]


[Archer] What?
[Charlotte] Absolutely not!

Why not?
I'm not gonna stuff

that poor girl into my clothes,
in the trunk of a car,

like so much...

So much what?
Forcemeat. Such as one might find

in a quenelle, roulade,
or galantine.

[scoffs] Well, now you're
just being obtuse.

I'm being obtuse?

As opposed to you, who wants to
parade a corpse through a hotel lobby

just so you can dress her
in your room?

Well, I'd hardly
call this a parade.

[man] Oh, good morning, Miss Vandertunt.

Can I... help you?

No. We're fine.
No, thank you.

My maid, whose name is, um...

Somewhat obviously.

Bernice! Yes, Bernice.

And she was dead drunk
in a nearby saloon.

Poor thing.

The curse of the Irish,
and so forth.

Ah, jeez.
Well, let's get her inside.

No! Oh, no.
Thank you. Thank you.

No. We'll use this one.
No, no, no.

That-- That one's good. Let's--
No, this one!

No! We are not
going through

a revolving door with Bernice.

But it wastes so much less air
conditioning than a regular door.

The regular door
is wide-ass open!

Oh, right.
Well, then, what's the point?


[bell dings]

I don't know why
you're so angry.

Which I think is why I'm so angry.
[bell dings]

And I can see why you would be.
[Trexler] Oh, yeah?

I mean, you don't think
I'm being unreasonable?

No! I mean, no-- I mean--

Because not only
did I pay a lot of money

for those magical
disappearing whores,

I also paid you a lot of money.

Well, yes, but that was--

I mean, that was more
to look the other way, so--


Not literally,

while those assholes
were taking my load!


[clears throat]

Do you have a cat?
I smell dander.

Now, you listen to me, Figgis, you
schnorrer. You're gonna find my whores,

and you are gonna find
the bastards who took my whores,

and crippled
my right-hand man, or--

I'm just spit-balling here--

what if I just
gave you back the money?

Because I do not want the money!

That is why I exchanged the money
for goods and/or services,

which is the core concept
of economics.

Isn't it sugar?

Or, like, scarcity...
of sugar?

You got one week, Figgis.
Or else.

Wow. Goosebumps.

A week? How in the risen Christ
am I supposed to find them in a week?

I don't even know where to think
about thinking to start looking!

[chattering in Chinese]
Okay, okay! Okay!

Okay! Goddamn it!
[chattering stops]

Okay. I gotta go to work,
but I'll be back tonight.

And when I get back, I wouldn't
mind if the place smelled

like Lemon Pledge
and orange chicken.

Mm, maybe Chinatown?

Oh, yeah. - Hey, and while we're at it,
why not regular China?

Or maybe Sarcastic Island, off the
coast of That Was Uncalled For.

Will you shut up?

And then ask yourself...
cui bono?

[Archer] What?
I said, "Why was your office ransacked?"

Because somebody killed my partner, and he
left an envelope full of clues in the safe.

Why on earth would he do that?
What? No, not the killer, my--

And what on earth are you doing?

Trying to offset
some of the blue.

She looks like a--
a rodeo clown.

You've clearly
never been to a rodeo.

Must you rob this poor girl of
her very last shred of dignity?

You did that! You did
that when you stuffed her

in the trunk of your Rolls-Royce,
you spoiled little--

[muffled grunting]

Wait. Really?

[breathily] Ohh... Okay.

[muffled grunting]

[zipper unzips]

Oh! Cover her face.

[chuckling, muttering]

I don't want her watching us.

Oh. Okay.


why did someone
murder your partner?

That's what I'm trying
to find out.

Really? I would think who is
much more important than why.

Because if you found out who killed him,

you could make them
tell you why.

Wow, you're
a regular Monsieur--

And last night,

whoever, or whoevers,
broke into your office

presumably knew
you'd be elsewhere.

I-- Huh?
So, who knew you wouldn't be there?

Well, I mean, it was late at night.
There was no reason

for anybody to think I would
be at the office, so...

Ya lost me.

"Cui bono," you dummy.

It's Latin. It means "to whose profit."

So, who knew
you wouldn't be there?

So, you big ox,
when Trexler loses...

who gains?

[Charlotte] Oh, come now.
Don't be such a pout.

I think getting Bernice
through the lobby

went about as well
as could reasonably be expected.



[clears throat]

Besides, if--
If you don't shut your fat mouth,

it's gonna be you going over that
goddamn cliff instead of Bernice!

Then you'd never get paid.

[brakes screech]

It would be worth it.

What's this?
Why have we stopped?

To get some answers. I won't be long.
Stay here.

I shall do nothing of the sort.

Of course you shalln't.

Why, the very idea, sitting in a car
in the street like some sort of--

Dirty cop.
Well, or any tradesman, really.

I need you to stop talking.

And when we get in there,
I need you to continue

to stop talking to anybody.

You're hurting me!

And it's the highlight
of my day.

[exclaims in German]

[speaking German]

[Archer] Do what?

What do you want?

Couple minutes with Mother.
[scoffs] Knock yourself out.

Well, I'm sorry I can't be of more
help to you, Lieutenant, but--

"Can't" and "won't" are two
very different things, Mother.

And yet the end result
is still the same.

Why, Mr. Archer.



You look like shit.

Couldn't sleep.

Noisy house guests.
What do you mean, "house guests"?

[chuckles] Wouldn't they be cave guests?
♪♪ [rimshot]

[man] Stop it!
What are you doing here, anyway?

I heard they did
a nice wedge salad.

We don't.

And now that we've settled that,

if you two
will please excuse us?

Okay, Mother,
but remember what I told you.

Remember what I told you.

[snickers, sniffs]

It is just Dandertown Frolics.

Move, dick!

Slang for "detective,"
so not an insult!

What is insulting is that you've
kept me waiting for ten hours.

I-- Sorry.
I've had a busy day.

I'll bet. I've had quite
a busy day myself

trying to shut down rumors I had anything to
do with that bloodbath down in Long Beach.

I wouldn't say "bloodbath."

Although, now that
I come to think of it,

the easiest thing would be to
just tell Len Trexler it was you.

That would be pretty easy.

But I have another job for you.

- Great. - Come back at midnight.
I'll give you the details.

And don't be late again.
Um, okay.

Anything else?
Well, uh,

it's just that
while I was down in Long Beach,

somebody broke into my office
and tossed the place.

And, well, I mean, it's just,

not many people
knew I wouldn't be there.

In your office, late at night.


And I will see you at midnight.

No, it's just,
what's a society dame like you

doing in a place like this?

Leaving it.
Let's go.

Wha-- Rude!
Bernice is waiting.

Oh, right.

Miss Kane!


Wow. Fancy meeting
you here, huh?

At my job?
Yeah. I mean, what are the odds?

One to one?
Yeah. I don't know. Maybe.

So, um...

Yeah. So, uh, okay.

See-- See ya around, or--

[gasps] Oh, my God! You
have a crush on her!

What? No I don't. I--

Yes, you do!
That was the cutest thing!

And I think she has
a crush on you.

No, she-- Wait. Really?

Why-- Why-- Why do you think that?
Did she--

Just admit that you like her.

Well, yeah. I mean, of course I--
Hey! Yeah.

Me and him?
We just fucked!

What is wrong with you?

Well, for one thing, I may be
literally starving to death.

[gasps] Clams!

Oh, we should stop
for fried clams

at one of those
darling little shacks.

[Archer] We're not
stopping for fried clams.

There is a dead woman
in the trunk!

Well, obviously, I meant after.

Also, I think
we're being followed.

We're not being followed.

There aren't any headlights
back there.

I think their headlights are off.
No, they're not,

because it's pitch dark, and
we're not being followed!

I think we're being followed.
We're not being followed!

And also, how have you
not been murdered?

I think we're being f--
[brakes screech]

We are not being followed!

I am a trained
private investigator!

If we were being followed,
I would know it!

Fine. Then drive.
Actually, we're here.

Sorry, Bernice.
Won't be long.

Okay. So, I'm gonna soak the upholstery
with gas, set a 20-second cordite fuse,

then we'll put Bernice in the driver's
seat, jam a rock on the accelerator,

light the fuse, and
then slam it-- [grunts]

[Charlotte screams]
[brakes screech]



[groaning continues]

[speaking French]


[woman screaming]
[man yelling]

Sorry! Our headlights don't work!
[bullet zings]

[tires screeching]



[laughing maniacally]

So, you're just
straight-up crazy.

[blows raspberry]
Ow. [groans]

Are we doing this, or what?

Because if I don't get some clams soon,
I won't be responsible for my actions.

What? I told you
we were being followed.

[grunts] That was just a car
with broken headlights.

It was a coincidence.

Because we weren't
being followed!


Goddamn it.