Archer (2009–…): Season 9, Episode 7 - Danger Island: Comparative Wickedness of Civilized and Unenlightened Peoples - full transcript

Archer helps defend a village from party crashers intent on ruining oysterfest.

Gott im Himmel!

I knew it, those damn
cannibals have taken Schmidt.


Look there, a blood trail.

Das ist Blut. Armer Schmidt.

So let's follow it und
kill those savages.

Are you quite insane?

There could be scores of them.

Hundreds, even.

Yeah, with sticks and stones.

Ja, and maybe poison arrows.

Schweinhunden. Mein Gott.

We need
reinforcements. Schneider!

Luckily, there is a
Kriegsmarine transport nearby,

heading for Nauru.

Hello? Hello?

Agent Fuchs der Abwehr hier.

Ich muss mit deinem
Kapitan sprechen.

With a bit of luck,

soon, we will have a platoon
of marine Sturmtruppen.

Sturmtruppen? Damn it.

Wait, what are Sturmtruppen?

It means "storm troopers."

Ah, crap. Yeah, that
doesn't sound good.

Well, it is a cognate.

What? Cognate.

Those are words with a
common etymological origin.

Not the word, Poindexter.

The fact that there's
a thing called that.

Yeah, and how many
guys in a platoon?

Like, 40.

Wait, were you in the
Army? Army Air Corps.

Hmm. Well, that
doesn't do us much good.

Hey, neither does
your missing arm.

Hey. But if my almost totally
nonexistent understanding

of military history is
correct... Why would...

Noah, shut up...

Then I'm pretty sure we can
expect several waves of attacks,

wherein the attackers will steadily
increase in both number and in skill,

until we face a final, climactic
attack by a sort of uberattacker,

a boss, if you will.

Translate that. Ah.

Boroka handiak, boroka boss.

Mmm. Wait, was that it or...

Broad strokes. Huh.
Well, now tell him we need

to build a network of defenses
out of whatever's on hand,

while also training everybody...

The men, the women,
these nubile teenage girls

I really hope are at least 18,

maybe some of the chubbier kids,

I mean everybody,
all of them... to fight.

Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm.
Zuri gotiak boroka.

Boroka dugu. Zenbat ordo?

Um, uh, so they're
eager to fight,

and how much time do we have?

Just a couple hours. Seriously?

Yeah. So, obviously, we're
gonna have to montage

the shit out of this thing.

Will you tell him
what a montage is?

Yeah, I don't think
"montage" would translate.

They-they don't really
have a strong filmic tradition.

And whose fault is that,
Noah? Well, I mean...

Jesus, you are the worst.

♪ ♪

Yeah, so if we had filmed all
that training and preparation

and then sort of cut it
down to just the good parts

and set that to
some bouncy music,

that would've been a montage.

I honestly wouldn't
even know where to start.

Try Eisenstein, you asshole.

All right, let's
see what we got!

Kusta dugu!

Um, okay!

Good job, I guess!

Ona gudari!

Good-looking tiger trap, ladies!

Ona trampak!
Don't forget to smear

those stakes with feces!

Poopoo! Poopoo!

Oh, come on. What?

That's what they call it.

Oh, man.

Thanks, tribal
elders! Ona zahara!

Uh-oh, what are Nazi
Laurel and Hardy up to?


Literally another fine mess.

Mmm, that's not gonna translate.

I mean, A, it's sarcasm,

B, they're not gonna
get the reference, and...

And C, shut up
and... Oh, my God,

what's that big, crazy,
man-killing bastard?

Let's call it the widow-maker!

Well, that's also
not gonna translate.

Noah, goddamn
it, if you don't...

Wait, where's my Chub Club?

Yeah! There they are!


That's okay. Uh, shake it off

and get some more
poison darts from Pam.

Pozo Pamu.

Aw, come on! This
bullshit is boring as balls.


I wish to amend my
previous statement.

Okay. All right, all right.

So, um, criticisms.

I think we maybe could've
spent a little more time

practicing actual combat and a
little less making the Nazi logs.

But, overall, great
job, everybody.

Ona lanara!

Okay, Noah, tell the chief

the most important
thing to remember is...

Sterling? Wha...

Mother? What in the
hell are you wearing?

I-I mean...

Master Coconut!

Pam, shut up. What
are you doing here?

Well, we came to rescue...

The sacred idol!

What? Nuh-uh.

Goddamn it!

We're searching
for the sacred idol!

What is wrong with you?

What's wrong with you?

And who the hell
told you about...

Oh, you goddamn
blabbermouth bird.

They already knew about it,
and they were gonna leave you

in the quicksand
while they looked for it.

What? Damn it, bird.

Are you... Mother, is that true?

You were just gonna let us die?

Oh, please. What do you
think we're doing here?

We came to rescue you from
these bloodthirsty cannibals, which...

Oh, yeah, no.

They're cool. Well...

Mother, this is
the cannibal chief.

Chief, my lying and
scheming mother.

Charmed, I'm sure.

So they're not cannibals?

Oh, no, they're
totally cannibals,

but we've temporarily teamed up

to fight some Nazi
storm troopers.

Wait, what? Mon Dieu.

Storm troopers?

It's a cognate. Noah?

Kalua... Kalua... Kalua...

And what is happening right now?

Kalua. What is kalua?

It means... goddess.

Wow, okay, that's embarrassing.

Tell them I'm not
an actual goddess,

but merely a direct
descendant of, um,

whosits, their god,
um, what's-his-face.

No, no, no, no, no,
they-they don't mean you.

They mean her.


Oh, for the love...
Kalua... Kalua... Kalua...

Wow, that is embarrassing.

Oh, shut up.

I'll tell you what's

is getting slaughtered by a
bunch of Nazi storm troopers.

So, can we all please focus?
Noah, tell them to focus.

Uh... Uzuka, bita kuju.

Bita kuju!

Aw. Well, on the bright side,

if you don't get murdered,
maybe you can move here

and be worshipped as a goddess.

What mere mortal
dare speak to Kalua?

Mmm, okay. CYRIL: Okay!

Listen up!

These savage
cannibals have murdered

and by now, let's be honest,

probably eaten one
of your Kameraden.

So we are going to destroy
their village and everyone in it.

Men, women, and...

You there! What are you eating?

Well, did you bring
enough for everyone?

Well, then what
are you waiting for?

Pass them out.

Now, any questions?


It's just something we're doing.

Mmm, I forget why.

Und also shut up.

Psst. Noah. You've told them

to hold their fire until the
Krauts are in close, right?

Mmm-hmm. And to fall back

when they start to get
overrun? Mmm-hmm.

And to... wait, what
is wrong with you?

What, are you
kidding? I'm scared.

Oh. Well, yeah. I
mean, that's normal.

Uh, no, I think I'm
scareder than that.

Trust me, however scared
you think you are, it's...

I pissed in my pants, man.

Still well within normal.

Nobody else
pissed in their pants.

Well, but remember,
they're not wearing pants.

That's not... ARCHER: Plus,

there is no way they can possibly
imagine the unspeakable things

that modern firearms
can do to the human body.

So... try not to get shot.

That's it? That's your advice?

That's really good advice.

Isn't this exciting?

What, being held
against our will

while we get attacked by Nazis?

Or discovering the
one culture on Earth

that lacks a basic
knowledge of fermentation?

I don't know, I guess all of it?

Hmm, now what have we here?

I could've found
that stupid idol

and been halfway
to New York by now.

Oh, no.

That idol's all mine, missy.

Yeah, well, we'll
see about that.

Out of the way, Blimpkins.

Are you... You are serious.

Hey, can you please
tell him to move?

Who calls upon
the almighty Kalua?

Ugh. Yeah, that's
not already old.

Your Almightiness, did I hear you
say you were hungry for oysters?

Yes. Mortal.

Fetch me some bivalves.

Budge up, biggun.

What? Back in a jiff.


Any sign of 'em? - No,

because I don't
have binocular vision.

I'm totally wasted
here. Me, too.

Well, not totally, but...

No, and stop that.

I should be in the air, like
a reconnaissance plane.

Yeah, right, like
you'd come back.

Wh... I came back. I'm here.

Yeah, nice decision tree, bird.

And where the
hell'd you get that?

Made it. What, when?

I don't know, a minute ago.

Whatever's in these
crazy bastards is, like...

really helping me focus.

- It's poison.
- So's booze.

What's up your dickhole?

I just... all these people
put their trust in me,

and what if I fail them?

What if, what if I
get them all killed?

I mean, they were
gonna eat us, so...

That's a fair point.

Hey, you know, people
eat birds all the time.

Why is that okay?

'Cause birds are delicious.

Well, you're
probably not, but...

I bet I'm totally delicious.

Oh, please, you were
born in the 1800...

What the hell was that? Mortar!


My God, listen to that.

You can hear their
women scream from here!

So I hope someone
brought potatoes.



Doudou, devrions-nous courir?

Jesus, tu es le pire putain.

Nazi punks, off!

We got to take out that mortar!

Yeah, but how?

I'm gonna charge it.


What did you say?

No. Fire!

Okay, Noah. You're
gonna go back to the States,

and you're gonna
tell Dad he was right,

and you're gonna
take that job at...

at Uncle Mort's modeling agency.

And guess what.
You're just going

to have to start
slathering tanning oil

on Swedish bikini models.

That's it, I'm going for it.

Mmm-kay. Good luck.

That's it? KRIEGER
AND PAM: I mean...


What are you doing,
running around?

The air's, like, 50% metal.

Well, exactly, and
speaking of percentages,

you seem to have this
whole thing pretty well in hand,

so I thought I'd just toodle off

and see if I can't
find that pesky idol.

Are you... For us.
Me and you, 50-50.

I... He has partners, you know.

Oh, my God.

Well, if he wants to
give you half of his half,

that's his business, but...

What half? What
happened to thirdsies?

Yeah, what did
happen to thirdsies?

Wait, since when
was it thirdsies?

Oh, my God. First of all, we...

Wait, what are you drinking?

Apparently, it's some kind of
beer made from some jungle fruit

these people chew into a paste

and then spit into
these gourds to ferment.

It's a bit like a
phlegm sangria.

Hmm. Is it good?

You know...

Son of a... That
was my only gourd.

Give me that. Wha...
What are you...

Nazi sons of bitches.

She took out the
whole mortar team.

What? I was gonna do that.

Okay. Yeah, right.

Here. I think it's broken. I...

And, look, the
natives are rallying.

Ja, ja.

Schiesse diese Scheie!

Schneider, radio the ship.

Tell them we need...

Well, a new Schneider, for one.

Batu baruka! Batu baruka!

Because I don't
want to die in a hut,

defiled by Nazi storm troopers!

Well, I can't die. I'm immortal.

But even though time
is meaningless to me,

what is taking so long
with these oysters?

Well, don't ask him,

'cause he sure as
hell doesn't have any.

Meaning? He's a eunuch?

Oh, come on. He
has no testicles.

Ew. And also, so? So,

what do you think these
people use for oysters?

Uh, presumably oysters?

Balls. Wait, what?

Why would they eat...
Because they're cannibals.

Cannibals don't only eat people.

I'm sure they have side salads.

You think he
eats a lot of salad?

I think if I tell him
to, he'll eat you.

I take your point.

Muh, muh, muh, muh.

Fall back! Fall back! Fall back!

Where the... Noah? Noah?


What are you doing, Noah?

Oh, I-I'm hiding
under this corpse.

But otherwise... I mean...

Well, then, can you
please tell them to fall back

so we can lure these Nazi
pukes into our killing zones?

Oh, yes, yes. Of course.

Oh, now! Sorry. Uh, atzera!


Atzera! Batu baruka atzera!

And how do you say "get ready"?

Um... Noah!

Oh, no, sorry. Kokatu. Kokatu.

Thanks, idiot. Yep!



Kokatu! Kokatu!

They are retreating.

Attack! Attack!


Kokatu! Kokatu!


What is that? What
is he screaming?

Here come the Krauts.

Ugh, finally.

They might have schnapps.

Yeah! Aw, man.

Did you see that? Yeah.

That was the pits. Am I right?

Eh. Oh, whatever.

Shut up, bird.

Nein! Nein!

Was ist los? Was ist los?

It's working!

Chief, it's working. Mmm.

Chief, you are a tough room.

Woooooo!! Chub Club!

That was the last of 'em. Yeah!

Take that, you Nazi bastards.

Well, don't just
stand there and gawk.

Go loot their
corpses for schnapps.


What are they chanting?

Death to whites.

No offense.

Death to whites. No offense.

Oh. Yeah. Again,
they're super racist.

But also weirdly polite. Eh.

We showed those
German bastards, eh?

What we? Where
the hell were you?

Fighting those German bastards.

Yeah, right. Uh-huh.

I shot maybe ten
German bastards.

Okay, well, as long
as I get the credit

for the winning
battle plan, I...

Victory is mine!

All hail Kalua!

Uh, you don't.


Way to go, toothless old lady.

And now I think
it's feast o'clock.

Hey, shouldn't we,
um, go make sure

that guy's, like,
dead or whatever?

No, dummy. Why do you think
they call it the widow-maker?

Well, yeah, but
you made that up.

Probably won't get
credit for that, either.

Teko! Besta! Teko! Besta!

Teko! Besta!


Oh, man. Are
feasts not the best?

Not this one. Don't eat that!

Come on, try it.

It tastes like chicken.

I don't eat chicken.

Yes! Finally, oysters.

Oh, fun fact, even though they
serve those on oyster shells,

they're actually
human testicles.


Well, I mean, at this point...

You know?

Oh, wait.

Oh, thank God.

Noah, how do you
say "mignonette"?

Oh, it's the same. "Mignonette."

Seriously? What?

Yeah, it's a loanword.

Just the worst.

Made in Georgia.