Wait, what happened?
I thought you were gonna renovate this place.
As did I,
but I was betrayed
by a lying little country music wannabe.
Was that directed at me?
Yes! Who else?
I don't know who all lies to you!
Also, there's a Mr. Slater to see you.
Just Slater. It's a mononym, like...
Jesus Christ.
Nope. He's in here, you ritzy ditz.
What are you doing, Dave?
So, uh, should I come back?
No. No, no, no. Of course not.
Yeah, that's what I was thinking.
I mean, whatever the task, we are up to it.
We are professional and...
There's a Mr. Slater to see you.
I'm gonna go.
Good. Why are you here in the first place?
Mr. Slater...
Just Slater. And hang on.
Excuse me, are you and I gonna have a problem?
I mean, I'm sure we will at some point, but...
Sterling. Mr...
Just Slater.
Has... Had.
An important assignment for us
which I'm sure we can kick right through
the basket for a homerun.
I'm gonna go.
Look, you're already here.
Why not just tell us what the mission is?
I will, but only because I choose to.
One of our, well,
I guess you could call him a freelancer...
What do you call him?
I call him a freelancer. Shut up, please.
Anyway, he needs an extraction from Buenos Aires.
Ugh, it's just us. You can say "Buaynos Aireeze."
And... Hush.
And what operation is the CIA
conducting in Argentina?
Oh, sorry. It's called Operation Nunya.
I... As in beeswax, Lana.
Yes, I...
Dr. Kane, report to the burn unit.
To help a patient who's been burned?
No.
Anyway, his cover's been blown.
Argentine Intelligence is onto him
and he needs an extraction A.S.A.G.D.M.F.P.
So why us? Why not keep it in-house at CIA?
Because, turns out, you actually know this operator.
Uh, do you mind?
Hmm? Oh!
Conway Stern?
Yes, Conway Stern. Questions?
Yeah, can I start?
You guys mind if I start? I'll start.
Are you out of your shitting mind?
Sterling! Excuse me?
He literally stabbed me in the back.
Because you jeopardized his mission.
What mission?
To sell classified military technology to the Chinese?
Phony technology we wanted China to have.
They've been chasing their tails on the whisper drive for years.
Oh... "Oh"?
I knew it. In my heart of hearts,
I knew he was one of the good guys.
Literally. The back. Stabbed it.
Then you people ripped off his hands so...
After he literally stabbed me.
In the back.
Oh, give it a rest, Sterling.
I'm sure you did something to deserve it.
But now you have a chance to right that wrong,
which is a rare thing.
About as rare as getting called up to the majors
from single A ball...
Hey. Lana.
I assume that was a sports analogy meant to be cutting
but we will take the mission, won't we, Sterling?
Huh? Yeah. Oh, sorry.
It's just I'm worried my entire life
I've been misusing the word "literally."
And certainly overusing.
- You're not worried? - Why should I worry?
Because I'm the one that ripped off Conway's hand?
No. About...
Or that he'll double-cross us again?
Which a blowjob says he does.
And Mother and Slater and the CIA are idiots for trusting him.
I'm talking about us flying on the same plane.
What if it crashed?
Then I wouldn't have had to watch you pound 20 drinks
and then try to talk the stewardess into a hand job.
Where are you getting 20 drinks?
Uh, from 10 doubles?
"A," those were mini-bottles and two,
I'm talking about A.J., Lana.
Who's going to take care of her
if something happens to both of us?
Well, me. Obviously.
You think... Heh. Okay, wow.
You think, in the event of their deaths,
that you would be A.J.'s legal guardian?
Who else would they possibly choose?
You've met yourself, right?
If it's anybody around here, it's me.
Of course. The one who smokes next to the baby.
Dukes!
Ray!
You know...
All right, Virginia Slim. You're...
Nap time. I have a meeting. Goodbye.
Look, don't worry about A.J., okay?
Well, I think one of us should.
No, I... I vote for Mother and Woodhouse.
To raise my child?
Our child, Lana. And yes. And...
Can we talk about this later?
We're definitely gonna talk about it later,
I can promise you that.
And can you promise that even though Conway...
Literally. - -stabbed you in the back,
that you won't do anything revenge-y
and stupid when he opens the door?
Hmm, I want to say...
No! Revenge rampage!
How do you still have two hands?
You cyborg son of a b...
You're out of sugar.
Oh, good. You're making tea.
Because I could use some with honey and lemon.
And bourbon.
But actually, without the honey and lemon.
And the tea.
So just bourbon.
Yeah, but I doubt if...
Shut up. Don't ruin it. I had something for...
Puke Skywalker?
Goddamn it.
Anyway, I doubt the robot has any bourbon
and I'm not really in the mood for a WD-40 and Coke.
Unless that is, literally, the only thing to drink.
I think I might be concussed.
Hell hath no fury, huh?
Meaning?
As a woman scorned. Lana, remember?
I kind of scorned you last time we met?
Ha, ha. Yeah, you are definitely concussed.
Not to mention a Decepticon.
Where the hell did you get a bionic hand?
Uh...
So, what's new? How you been?
Sharper Image?
Uh-huh. Sounds more like Krieger.
Jesus Christ. Will he not rest
until we've all been enslaved by Skynet?
Hey, we are leaving in five, so...
Right after I enjoy this yerba maté and caña smoothie,
with a WD-40 float.
Although enjoy is maybe a bit strong.
Ugh. Conway, grab whatever you need,
presumably some fresh nine-volts
and let's get this extraction going.
I can't. I don't have the intel yet.
What intel? Slater said "extraction."
When he asked us to come rescue you.
From what? Your mom's antique vagina?
You son of a...
Hey! Enough, you two!
Tell him that.
Pretty sure I just did.
Now, what and where is this intel?
It's a computer file with the real identity
of every single CIA agent
operating in Central and South America.
Argentina's using it for leverage
threatening to trade it to the Soviets.
Wait. Isn't Argentina our ally?
You'd think, right?
After we threw them that lovely coup?
The file is on the mainframe computer
of the Argentine Secret Intelligence Service.
Okay. Here's what we do...
How about maybe let him finish?
Hmm. Okay. But then we go with my plan.
The mainframe is a standalone in a secure vault.
Hardened, keycard, and retinal scan entry.
On the top floor of the Intelligence building,
which is heavily guarded at all times by Argentine special ops
on standing orders to shoot to kill
any and all unauthorized personnel.
You mentioned something about a plan?
I mean, he obviously thinks he has a plan,
so whatever. Let's hear it.
Where is it?
Where's what? What are you...?
I flushed it!
Ahh! I will kill you.
Where you stand.
Hey.
Is it too much to ask, during the goddamn work day
for two separate sessions of 80 uninterrupted minutes
each of quality dump time?
I mean, I'm not a labor attorney.
Yes, it is entirely too much to ask.
I thought so, yeah.
So I'll pass that on to who or whomever asked.
And if you harmed one single hair
on her little brown head, I will...
- Wait, do what? - Whose head?
Baby A.J. She's missing!
- Oh, my God. - Oh, thank God.
And since you are the only one around here who hates babies...
Just baby people.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Come on. I'm sure...
Wait. Did you murder the baby?
Uh-uh.
No, but, like, swearsie-realsies?
Swearsie-realsies.
And that's pretty sacred to us, so...
We'll go help you look for baby A.J.
In, like, five-teen, 40 minutes.
And so Conway's plan doesn't strike you
as unnecessarily complicated?
No, Lana, it doesn't.
And it doesn't strike you as
"Brazilian minstrel show meets Trading Places?"
No, Lana, it doesn't.
And that's not just because
you get to wear that ri-dork-ulous facerug?
No, Lana, it...
Look. If I have to pull this car over
we're all gonna be murdered, so...
Just get us in the damn garage, man.
You're not the boss of me.
Archer, just... Or you.
I don't care if you are the president
and first lady of Brazil
on a pan-American goodwill tour of intelligence headquarters.
Coronel Lando Calrissiano, de Las Fuerzas Especiales
doesn't work for you.
Although he has nailed his backstory.
Lando Cal...
Will you shut up?
I need to think.
Don't yell at me, I didn't lose her.
Now, just try to retrace your steps.
Well, I wasn't in the sofa cushions.
Ahh! Well, you could have said that.
I did.
I thought you were being sarcastic!
It is kind of hard to tell with you.
Okay, here we go.
Conway, shut up, and try to look semi-presidential.
And, Lana, try to look,
actually, yeah. Matronly. You nailed it.
You know...
Coronel, heh.
Um, okay.
Um, bueno.
"Lando"? "Calrissiano..."
Okay, so here's the thing with that.
Boring conversation anyway.
Goddamn it, Archer!
That's Coronel Calrissiano to you.
Archer.
Don't drive angry.
What the hell are you doing?
I'm Archer-izing this plan.
What? No, no. Uh-uh.
You cannot make yourself a verb. I will not allow it.
I'm a verb now, Lana.
Deal with it.
And then, also, cover me, please.
Idiotas!
Um...
on the ground!
Uh, perdón?
On the ground, Pyle! What are you...?
Oh. Uh...
See how I switched to English?
I was testing him. Good work, Pyle.
How about a big hand for Pyle, gang?
Lana!
Archer!
Lana! Lana!
What are you, jealous I'm a verb?
Jesus Christ, Pyle! I heard you.
Archer!
What are you doing?
Shooting out the glass.
No, no, no! Don't! It's...
bulletproof.
Archer!
So, uh, how come you and I didn't hook up
last time we worked together?
Well, "A," you were too busy banging
Cheryl or Carol or Cristal...
Oh, right. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
The crazy Jew-Santa chick.
And "B" through "Z,"
because you're a large-diameter dickhole.
Mm-hm. Well, you're looking good, girl.
Lot curvier than I remember.
I had a baby.
Oh. Sorry. Never mind.
Never mind what?
Like, name it.
You know...
So you done Archer-izing?
Because, you jackass,
to recap, you locked us in the stupid limo!
Well, I still don't see why that means
I'm the one who has to carry Pyle.
Well, then slice out his retinas, okay?
I can't. It would kill Lou-Ann.
Oh, and speaking of... Goddamn it.
Speaking of what?
If something happens to both of us,
who's gonna take care of the baby?
Her baby's yours?
Can we please put a pin in this?
No, Lana, we can't!
I want to know why you don't want it to be Mother.
Because how did you lose a baby?
She was right there in the pram.
I made a drink, my furrier called.
Spoiler alert, he's robbing me blind.
I called immigration, tried to get his father deported.
I made another drink, but I was out of ice, so I...
What? What is it?
Krieger!
He was skulking around out there while I went out to get ice.
Come on, to that Nazi freak's lab.
Hey. Are guns really necessary?
Because I'm seriously asking.
Seriously?
Yes, Lana, seriously.
Why isn't my mother good enough to raise A.J.?
No! Don't shoot! There's a baby!
And why? Why do you have the baby?
Oh, my God.
Okay. So here's the thing with that.
- That is a nightmare. - Seriously?
Goddamn, dude.
You were going to make her a robot?
I wish. I mean, no. No.
I was doing market research for the TB-800
A.K.A. Cyberneddly Teddly.
Oh, please. That's a baby skeleton.
No, but once I figure out
how to grow actual bear tissue
to cover it...
Goddamn, dude. Dude.
Damn. How creepy. Damn.
No, wait. Teddly's here somewhere.
Or was. I swear.
Teddly? Teddly?
Cyril, secure the child.
And the rest of you, I can't see any benefit
in telling Lana what happened here today.
Understood?
I'm not saying nothing. I'm on board for that.
And, Krieger, I swear to God,
if I catch you near this child again...
But... I will shoot you in the genitals
and then sit here sipping Amontillado sherry
while you bleed to death.
Meedeep?
Tada!
Yeah, thanks, Mr. Bear-jangles.
Wait, you already knew the code?
Of course he did. He's a cyborg.
It was probably Gaius Baltar's...
Ah, oh!
Archer? You double-crossing son of a bitch.
Called it.
Well, yeah. Come on. We all saw this coming.
Now, drop them.
I was gonna say zip code, guys.
Okay, idiots, thanks for helping me get the disk.
The Soviets are going to pay out the zadnitsa for this.
But you could have gotten the disk yourself.
Why drag us into it?
Well, I knew Dick van Head over there
could pass for a Latino to get us in.
Nailed it. But mostly for revenge.
Remember how you ripped off my hand, woman?
Yeah, vaguely, but if it's revenge you want,
why don't you shoot me?
I was going to, but come on.
I'm not a monster. You just had a kid.
Me too, though.
And what are you doing in the window?
Base. Jumping. Ha-ha-ha. This is a parachute.
Well, Conway, you win this round.
Who are you? Wait. Hang on.
Horatio Kane. Goddamn it.
But "Kane" obviously spelled...
I got it.
And hey, give me a call
if things don't work out with the kid.
And you lose the baby weight.
Are... you... kidding... me?
Yeah. Lose that weight, Conway Stern.
Or whatever your real name is.
I lied. That is my real name.
Ma, they got old Lando this time.
I'm done for.
Archer, shut up. You're gonna be okay.
You really think so?
I mean, maybe.
Although that can't bode well.
You get the disk?
Slater?
Did you get the disk?
Yes, idiot.
And also several bullets so...
Then come on, get in the back.
I got a plane waiting at an airstrip.
So hey, about this blowjob...
Shut up.
Conway was a traitor.
He was gonna sell the disk to the Soviets.
Yeah, yeah. We kind of suspected that.
"Kind of?" So you sent us into a...
Wait. So you followed us down here?
Come on. We're not gonna put a couple of untested rookies
in the starting lineup...
of game seven of the world...
Seriously, okay, as I was saying...
Goddamn it, Archer. I am not giving you a blowjob.
Not that.
A.J.. If something happens to us.
I really don't think that this is the time
to talk about that.
When then?
Why don't you want to talk about it, Lana?
Because I'm afraid it'll hurt your feelings.
Because, if anything happens to me and just me, Archer,
then A.J. would live with my parents.
Oh.
Yeah, uh... I... I guess that makes sense.
They're probably pretty old, though, right?
And if anything happened to them,
then A.J. would live with my sister.
You have a sister?
Ugh. Yes, Archer, I have a sister.
She younger?