В первый раз здесь? Создать аккаунт
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00:21:33
H. Jon Benjamin, Judy Greer, Amber Nash
144
...or their frothiness, to me again...
It was just a harmless tranquilizer. - You shitass.
[IN HIGH-PITCHED VOICE] I find your drunkenness very unappealing...
They're on their way to the morgue?
And I think I just had a flashback, so...
Maybe one guy's a new waiter, the second one's training him...
Beep, beep, beep.
Or is she an assassin? - I don't know. I...
...Karen Carpenter's stunt double? - I thought you were walking backwards.
It's a Chekhov. Russian-made.
...in a Caribbean bungalow and you're kind of high.
Jesus Jones, yes. - So when I asked for cucumber slices...
Call girl. It's not an insult, Cyril.
ARCHER: Shut up and hem, you old fruit.
Cyril. Under no circumstance is Lana to know about our little...
Oh. Yeah. Call the kettle black. - Ugh.
No, wait. Trinette, please, I... - Spying ass bastard.
Your man's a rakish chap. Air of mystery, chiseled good looks?
Who'd have thunk it? - I bet Agent Kane thunk it plenty.
...active doubles, passive doubles, dangle moles...
...I may have inject a tracking device into your body.
Sir. I have fetch the rug.
Well, I think she was just shake up...
She's obviously attract to men of danger.
I was laugh at your clothes.
Wow, Archer, you were right. A tailored suit hang so much better.
What's that suppose to mean?
I'm doing all kinds of stuff, Cyril. I'm shoot the gun, see?
The cap slip off for, like, no reason.
...you lie to me.
Who'd have thunk it? - I bet Agent Kane thunks it plenty.
I mean, let's be honest, I doubt that's the first needle you ever...
...right after I caught you and my ex-boyfriend with a hooker in the trunk?
I forgot about the DD-14s. - Screw them.
...then your trained field agent eyes spot two threats.
Wow. What happen to you?
...Karen Carpenter's stunt double? - I thought you were walking backwards.
I'm not sure that's technically irony.
Since I had it legally changed because you always call me Carol.
It's perfectly safe. You're tangoing...
But, I mean, morality aside, how do you keep track of all these lies?
But yeah, basically. - So do something.
Cyril's off somewhere with Mr. Archer.
She's obviously attracted to men of danger.
You butthole. You set this all up, just to drive me and Lana apart.
Okay. - And that wasn't all gun, neither.
Archer. - Archer, exactly just.
...and the third's from maintenance, finally off his lazy ass to fix the AC.
Yes, quite ready sir. Though not entirely willing.
Super high, right? - No, low.
Like, actually shoot the gun? - ARCHER: Then.
...in a Caribbean bungalow and you're kind of high.
You're cooking dinner later? - Yes, I am.
...the often under-appreciated honeypot?
Your man's a rakish chap. Air of mystery, chiseled good looks?
Like so many other geniuses, unappreciated in his life...
...a supercool ISIS field agent like Archer, but...
No. Do not say the Chekhov gun, Cyril. That, sir, is a facile argument.
What the hell's in your freaking pocket?
Well, it may seem daunting now...
...to make you an agent just to impress Lana. Ironic, isn't it?
You should be thankful you have Cyril.
It was just a harmless tranquilizer. - You shitass.
Keep your story vague. That's lesson one.
I'm so over that lame flex account. When does the HSA start?
And the skinny-bitch-ectomy you need.
Inevitable for a serial workplace-dater.
...these antihistamines are insane.
You're baked, can't remember.
Tango, tango, tango. Scan the ballroom of the Cuban embassy...
Hey. I know you're upset, but if you ever mention my mother's loins...
...active doubles, passive doubles, dangled moles...