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00:20:36
H. Jon Benjamin, Judy Greer, Amber Nash
30
Shooting me's not gonna change the unbeatableness of their rug prices, Lana.
See? That's why I said scrooch down. Lana, Lana, scrooch down!
A, it was kofta, and-- Beelzebub's asshole. Kazak.
No. Guy's probably got nine wives and a jillion kids and--
It's the muezzin chanting the adhan, Lana. God, be open to other cultures.
Plus, I already bought three pantsuit. I'll think about it.
...she's a quadriplegic, I marry her out of guilt...
Beckon and rebuff whom? Kazak.
Stuffing him full of street kebab'?
...listening to your drunk ass fart and snore all night in the only bed...
No, Archer, just one smell, singular, which would knock a possum over.
I was gonna say, GPS, gun, sat phone, and canteen full of life-saving water.
[MAN CHANTING IN ARABIC OVER LOUDSPEAKER]
Oh, God, I don't know. Maybe a gigantic chocolate mousse or--
If the saddle oxford and/or ruby slipper fits, mister and/or missy.
...listening to your drunk ass fart and snore all night in the only bed...
[DOG GROWLING AND LANA GASPS]
Cue sad trombone. And go.
Hang on, I'm swinging back around. No, you're not. Why?
Ugh. So were you whining about Lana being an idiot'?
No, but I'm breathing fast.
Why the hell hasn't he activate his GPS beacon?
So, what say we grab this Kazak guy and get out of this flyblown shithole?
I saw the best minds of my generation Destroyed by madness
No. But this can't-- You cheat.
I quit. ARCHER: Lana, believe me...
...which we can only do after we extract Agent, what's his name, Kazak?
You took it? You ace it?
What are we suppose to do if Kazak doesn't wanna come with us?
Uh, hey, how you doing, buddy? I'll be better when you shoot him.
Okay, so maybe I egg you on to eat five orders of it...
Good, because I lie. I was drunk.
...she'd throw away his $11 phrasebook.
Oh. Uh, promise you won't get mad? Uh, no.
Okay, yeah, maybe I smoke just a teeny bit too much hashish...
I assume Lana's mad because Sterling's push her buttons.
She asked, regretfully, remembering that just moments earlier...
Wow. That accidentally worked.
Well, technically, she's right, huh? Is she right?
Look, obviously Moroccan intelligence isn't
...which maybe I do, possibly, if I'm being completely honest...
And B, normally in this situation I do a pit maneuver.
You're new here, but Lana cries wolf on quitting ISIS, like, twice a week.
Now what do you want? I'm extremely busy.
Lana, come on, we both know you're-- Quitting, Archer. Yes, exactly.
...and just generally make her life hell...
My point is, ow, sometimes we do good work.
You finally saved enough money for a sex change.
New York's five hours behind. Maybe she's not in the office.
Almost kind of wishing she'd shot you.
No. I'm actually broker than usual.
Almost kind of wishing she'd shot you.
No, but I'm breathing fast.
How would I ever die in a dessert?
Or about you being carsick?
It might change my mood. To remorseful?
Ugh. No wonder Morocco Mole was so inept. He never got any damn sleep.
...you will spend your lunch hour being fitted for a prosthetic hand.
I did not sign on to be a dog sitter for... Whose freaking dog is this?
--For a dog. You know how insulting that is?
But thank you for that glimpse into your bleak, farmy childhood.
To who, the creepy old Moroccan dude? Or those Dutch high school girls?
How? Everyone watched me take it. Under sterile conditions, by the way.
Oh, God, I don't know. Maybe a gigantic chocolate mousse or--
Because Tangier's totally awesome. Wildly inaccurate.
Holy shit, that's racist, Archer. What is wrong with you?
...but that's only because I didn't wanna be rude.
It can't determine if they're suited for actual field work.
No. I know, right? It's loud as balls.
...and the night nurse is, like, Brazilian and 20.
Because. Look in here and tell me the Arabic phrase for:
...listening to your drunk ass fart and snore all night in the only bed...