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00:21:35
H. Jon Benjamin, Judy Greer, Amber Nash
26
It's a calfskin Hermès grip...
So all ashore from the S. S. Date Rape. Toot, toot.
- The unholy abomination of metal fused with flesh which now stands before you.
Look, no offense, but standing in line for beet and toilet paper...
Thanks. Or shalom or whatever it is we say.
And this deuce ain't gonna drop itself.
...with florists and caterer, and that his wedding would never happen, I...
How could they, with this illegal-ass window tint?
...that Russian tramp wants to con you into marriage for a green card, and...
Ugh. Please don't make him into a suitcase.
But don't thank him, it sets a bad precedent.
ARCHER: Oh, I don't know about all that.
My cherry blossom are wilting.
...and I spilled grape Tang on her stupid flokati rug.
Something about stripe and solids?
BARRY: Pitch is out, I can't hold altitude. ARCHER: What?
Shut up, idiot, and help me think.
Ah, is not so bad. You take crossword, you catch up with your neighbors.
Hush, it'll show you've been disavow by the KGB, and then Mother will...
Well, too bad, because you've sow the wind, and now you shall reap...
...when some A-hole slap me on the back...
Mortified. I beg your forgiveness.
- The unholy abomination of metal fuse with flesh which now stands before you.
Darling, I swear, it's a fake.
...and I spill grape Tang on her stupid flokati rug.
The KGB fake her file, Mother. Oh, whatever.
Woodhouse, I quit drinking for her.
Well, then, shut up.
...because you still have not solve my Kasanova problem.
Not just yet. Because I lie.
Unh! You realize I can never unhear that sentence, Pam. And why are you crying?
I bet Mother was hitting star again.
No, thanks. I promise Katya I'd quit drinking.
Ah, is not so bad. You take crossword, you catch up with your neighbors.
Don't worry, she won't get far. I'm lock ISIS down, top to bottom.
...the irony of which is not lost on me.
I know you're having a disturbingly hard time with this...
Even if it's... Oh, I don't know, a criminally insane cyborg.
So all ashore from the S. S. Date Rape. Toot, toot.
Uh, technically, your mother is my employer.
Wherever we go, someone will always be hunting us.
A man barely alive.
...the cumulative hangover will literally kill me.
...because obviously the Russians put another chip in it.
Apparently, how bad a Ping-Pong paddle hurts on a tiny, bare ass.
Woodhouse? Listen very carefully.
But this technology could forever alter the balance of world power.
- Threw me off a roof, twice.
Well, if you truly love Ms. Kasanova...
No, Katya, don't you see? That's exactly what Mother wants.
ARCHER: Especially since you and I had sex when I had cancer.
Right? Almost as cool as my van.
Wow, Barry, you're, like, super strong.
Katya, this is actually my mother.
What in the name of pre-paid venereal disease...
We have the capability to make the world's first bionic man.
Totally being sarcastic about the Georgia O'Keeffe posters.
But he is not a double agent. Are you retarded?
BARRY: Yeah, you wanna know what's really ironic?
It's understandable from you, Lana... Hah!
Oh, yeah, okay, I see what's happening here. You're both jealous.
Huh. Not really the explosive climax I thought it was gonna be.
Even if it's... Oh, I don't know, a criminally insane cyborg.
I swear, if anyone saw me in this awful van...
Then you're as dumb as you are stupid, because best-case scenario...
Goddamn, Woodhouse, are you deaf?
...the cumulative hangover will literally kill me.
What? Only by the strict legal definition.
Apparently, how bad a Ping-Pong paddle hurts on a tiny, bare ass.
JAKOV: So you fake Kasanova's file, those fools at ISIS hack into it...
But, surely, a brilliant scientist like you, how is it you are single?
Then you're as dumb as you are stupid, because best-case scenario...