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00:21:26
H. Jon Benjamin, Judy Greer, Amber Nash
16
in a quenelle, roulade, or galantine.
your underbutler fire the housekeeper.
in a quenelle, roulade, or galantine.
Well, technically, I suppose the drunken abortionist did.
narcissistic, quasi-incestuous megalomaniac!
Dirty cop. Well, or any tradesman, really.
You're playing a recluse who hasn't seen the sun for 20 years, for Christ's sake.
is to fill this car to the rafter with dynamite
They're a seething cauldron of neurotic, alcoholic,
and a tiny chauffeur uniform.
of her very last shred of dignity?
Slang for "detective," so not an insult!
Slang for "detective," so not an insult!
Or-- I'm just spit-balling here--
Said the pot to the kettle. (Giggles) My ear hurt!
Seeds of deception.
trying to shut down rumor
I know, but... Not even a voodoo priestess,
I said, "why was your office ransack?"
But it wast so much less air conditioning
You misunderstand me, Mr. Archer.
being chauffeur by a dwarf!
of your Rolls-Royce, you spoil little...
somebody broke into my office and toss the place.
Not literally, you ass! You scare me half to death! Ow! Ow! Will you... ow! Damn it!
just for kicks, melt people.
I mean, dentally, maybe, but if she just disappear?
and crush the ankles of a psychopath who,
As oppose to you, who wants to parade
Captioned by media access group at wgbh
who stole from me... (Crying softly)
Aw. And now that we've settle that,
Do you have a cat? I smell dander.
if she had refuse to get an abortion, so...
Just admit that you like her.
Will you shut up? Gladly.
I mean, dentally, maybe, but if she just disappears?
Poor Bette. So dreadfully overweight.
Figuratively!
So, as much as I would genuinely like to,
presumably knew you'd be elsewhere.
Well, technically, I suppose the drunken abortionist did.
Not literally, you ass! You scared me half to death! Ow! Ow! Will you... ow! Damn it!
went about as well as could reasonably be expected.
But putting aside, for now,
Besides, if... If you don't shut your fat mouth,
Bernice? Somewhat obviously.
I mean, obviously she's a maid. Really.
The curse of the Irish, and so forth.
-Archer: What? -Cheryl: Absolutely not!
Brandy, if you have it. Fresh out, turns out.
instead of bernice!
Well, I mean, it was late at night. There was no reason
Fine. Then drive. Actually, we're here.
I was being facetious, Mr. Archer.
off the coast of that was uncalled for.
I'm being obtuse? Yes.
They're a seething cauldron of neurotic, alcoholic,
They're a seething cauldron of neurotic, alcoholic,
Or maybe sarcastic island,
Well, technically, I suppose the drunken abortionist did.
I mean, you don't think I'm being unreasonable?
How quasi?
They're a seething cauldron of neurotic, alcoholic,
Oh, we should stop for fried clams
Wow. Fancy meeting you here, huh?
Heiress to the vast vandertunt publishing fortune.
Where's my tough guy?
Dynamite would blow her teeth all over the stupid beach.
a body with your exact same dental records. (Squealing)
a body with your exact same dental records. (Squealing)
(Grunts) That was just a car with broken headlights.