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00:21:33
H. Jon Benjamin, Judy Greer, Amber Nash
79
We've got a few gallons of freshwater, a desalinator for when that runs out.
Those numskull who picked us up were so drunk...
Which is why it's got knockout gas and a garrote and I think even a laser.
Once these idiots figure out they can turn those cannons on the wheelhouse, we're gonna be...
By tending bar and banging newlywed?
...as my hot meatball sub congeals into a big, fat, disappointing blob of shit.
It doesn't know how to find the only airstrip within a thousand miles...
Yeah, crazy rich. She invented the splashless urinal cake.
But this better not be a ruse. Heh, heh. A ruse?
I bet you just need more practice. Try this: Jerkins, you're a douche bag.
Ow! I actually have, like, mild tinnitus now.
I thought you put it on autopilot. It just maintains course and altitude.
So truce? Uh...
Ought to call it a Y ration, as in, "Hey, this tastes like cat shit."
...as my hot meatball sub congeals into a big, fat, disappointing blob of shit.
Then you can be a bartender and destroy a new marriage every week.
Planks. Now I'm done.
So I bet she'd pay whatever ransom you ask for.
...then do the Kobe tartare with this '42 Lapin...
Uncuff me, you idiot. Holy God, if we overshot our chance to refuel...
Then I, uh, misunderstood the concept.
If it makes you feel better, I puke most of it up.
Funny stuff. Jerkins, you douche bag.
...but before I gave you CPR and bandage your head.
Were you gonna say, "Unless he's been skim cash...
...who I think invent the radio.
We stall the pirates until the ISIS rescue team shows up...
After I shave and stuff, I took a pretty long nap, so...
Don't just sit there sweat like a gigantic cheese.
Come on, that marriage was doom. And so are we, if we don't work together here.
...and that you're still attract to him.
Yeah, quit being a dick for five seconds and unlock the door.
No, "dickhead" was the go word. How was I suppose to know?
For breath-holding and number of sharks shot in the fricking face.
Nice. So we just kick back, catch a few rays, catch some sushi.
Don't you wanna get rescue? Yeah, but those could be pirates.
Oh, don't give me that. You're all secretly delighted that he's gone.
Wow, ISIS has really gone downhill. But there must be some good agents.
Yet you're surprisingly unclear on the phrase "quickly and quietly."
Our satellite's locked on the beacon, which is, jeez, the middle of nowhere.
Damn, I can barely hold her level. Want me to help steer or...?
You were an ISIS agent? Briefly, way back.
He's alive somewhere, and since you fools can't find him...
Apparently that's my grieving process.
Is there a naval base there or? Not exactly. It's more of a, uh...
Oh, my God. Yeah, otherwise it's like:
Me neither. Plus ISIS actually turned a profit this quarter.
Pirates! That's kind of confusing since we're on a...
Haven't you done enough already? How is this suddenly my fault?
They don't, though. They're just surrendering the ship to you.
Come on, that marriage was doomed. And so are we, if we don't work together here.
Nothing else within a thousand miles, and the beacon has been heading straight for it...
At least you got a honeymoon. My fiancée was murdered.
NOAH: Oh, the women always throw a huge feast when we return to port.
Don't ruin your postcoital bliss with a bunch of misplaced guilt.
No. No matter how distraught Sterling is over Katya, he won't kill himself.
I'm agitated because you crashed my plane...
Yeah, making it wildly impractical. Got it.
Don't ruin your postcoital bliss with a bunch of misplaced guilt.
Okay, A, rhetorical, and, B, your what? Seaplane.
So we've got a highly-ish skilled covert agent...
Don't just sit there sweating like a gigantic cheese.
What she implied was that we're jealous of Archer...
...as my hot meatball sub congeals into a big, fat, disappointing blob of shit.
Yet you're surprisingly unclear on the phrase "quickly and quietly."
For the ridiculous image you're trying to cultivate for yourself.
ARCHER: I did that. ...the other pedal flushes it.
Oh, don't give me that. You're all secretly delighted that he's gone.
...and this chocolate terrine looks insane.
A ruse, you big dumb idiot.
CAPTAIN: "Fortress." That is the word. My English so crap.
...I don't eat all those fat, delicious childrens.