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00:20:14
H. Jon Benjamin, Judy Greer, Amber Nash
28
What are you-- Let's go, bitches! Tiger tranq!
Oh, man, they gotta bump ugli now.
Well, I was gonna say Tokarevs and Shpagin-41 submachine guns...
If I could just get a credit card for the room and any incidentals then we'll be--
...but, yeah, let's go with peppercorn. Thank you.
Will you hag stop it? There's nothing going on over there.
And negativity is infectious, by the way.
CYRIL: Suppressing fire extinguisher!
...the madman selling the uranium.
Because why the hell would there be penicillin in chocolate mousse?
Ah, wow, what'd you call it? Power blackout. And you're welcome.
What, the salmonella dripping all over my desk?
You shut up. I was on the verge of-- Dying?
Not really. I thought this was the door to the hallway.
What the hell is this bullshit?
Now, when I'm suction-cupped on a window, 30 stories above the ground.
They will be. Raves make everybody horny.
ARCHER: Lame.
...that you know nothing about because I just unmade it.
And what part of your job, exactly, is groping my ass?
Catching the North Koreans who are in New York to buy enrich uranium.
...I've been shot, stab, set on fire, poisoned, shot, sexually assaulted...
...partially chew, shot, and declared legally dead.
I apologize, madame, but-- For what, Dunkirk?
Like the Tuntmore Towers Hotel, where Lana's shack up with Mr. Archer?
...instead of whether or not you crawl out of your mother!
ARCHER: Because I borrow your credit card?
That's what she was scream at you.
...I've been shot, stabbed, set on fire, poison, shot, sexually assaulted...
...partially chewed, shot, and declare legally dead.
You didn't borrow it, you stole it.
Whoo. Wow. Thank God you've been arrest so many times.
Ugh, it's like my heart's being grip by the icy fingers...
Only if they're who screw me out of my bonus.
Nailed it. Boom!
CYRIL: Okay, first of all, just shut up.
No, I sarcastically climbed all the way up here to see what your bonus is.
Well, figuratively. Literally!
Sucks, right? I mean, that's not even remotely fair.
...I've been shot, stabbed, set on fire, poisoned, shot, sexually assaulted...
...partially chewed, shot, and declared legally dead.
I am literally going to kill him.
Or that effeminate yet somehow condescending tone?
Archer... No, I mean, obviously it hurts...
Yeah, which is apparently French for just sitting around on your ass.
It's not democratic, not a republic, and definitely not glorious.
So you got an ETA on when you might possibly be ready to help?
Twice on the same day.
Well, Pigley 3, that would certainly explain the glowing.
And what part of your job, exactly, is groping my ass?
What? No. Actually, Archer's alone.
...that until I say otherwise, Mr. Sticky-Fingers...
Instead of feeling me up in the lobby-- Wait till we're in the room. Got it.
Second, I trust Lana completely, especially with regard to Archer.
Yeah, posing. And I'm drunk on nuptial bliss.
Or that effeminate yet somehow condescending tone?
...of some terrifying ghost of honeymoon future.
Ugh. What's lame, Archer?
...that your bonuses will now be used to pay this ridiculous hotel bill...
Ugh! No way, that is so unfair. PAM: What, are they banging?
Yeah, which is why it's surprising that you're so shitty at it.
And negativity is infectious, by the way.
Wow, heh, Lana, that was... Right? Totally passive-aggressive.
Thanks. The memory of your bare ass will bring me comfort and warmth...
If you don't answer, I'm gonna scream as loud as I possibly--
Thanks. That was actually pretty impressive.
And that is for ruining my fake honeymoon.
Broke. Jesus, the room's that much? ls there a problem?
Yeah, posing. And I'm drunk on nuptial bliss.
Which would be weird. Your bonus?
Odd choice of dying words.
And third, Lana's pretty satisfied in the old romance department.