Archer

Woodhouse? Mum.

If I see this glass empty again, I will be very

unhappy. Perish the

thought, mum. Now, then.

Who'd like to go first?

No? All right, then I will.

Idiots!

Thank you, dear. For a moment there, I thought

I was going to be unhappy. Now, then.

Who's next?

Okay, so, uh... I guess I'll go if...

If I can just stop you there.

Will you please cover yourself?! With what?

I don't have any...

There. Happy? No!

I didn't mean with whipped cream!

It's actually whipped cocaine, so...

That explains where

some of it went. Mmm, and the tingly

numbness of my nipples. And why are you

dressed like the whore the rest of the trailer park finally

decided they had to stone to death?

Duh, we were shooting my album cover.

Yes! Good, yes, that is perfect!

Perfect for what? Come on, it's an album cover,

not a... Amish Bible! You got to sex that shit

up sexy. Um...

I think it's pretty sexy.

You think that's sexy? With the rocket pops...

outside of you. I mean...

But if she eats them, we lose the whole red,

white and... okay... Yeah, not talking about

eating them. Wait, what are

you... You want me to put a rocket pop in my vagina?!

Well, for starters. But let's not rule anything out.

You know? Let's kind of see where that leads.

We've got a shitload of film. I'm supposed to have

film in this? Goddamn it!

Krieger! So, I have a question.

The butthole, Lana, is what I was...

Yeah, I got that. But do you think the cover for a

country album should be hardcore...?

What do you even call that? Food porn?

I do. You think it makes a

good country album cover or you call it food porn?

Yes. Are you...?

These things are

freezing! Film, film, film,

film, film! Quit putting rocket

pops in your ass! I'm eating them.

Jesus, what is wrong with you? I guess I just don't

get art. You obviously don't.

And it's not that we don't appreciate criticism.

It just needs to be constructive.

Yeah, Lana. Shut up.

And then tell me what happened to the hundred pounds of...

Kilos. Kilos, thank you,

shut up. Of cocaine that you took to

Colombia. Which...

Lana, when I want you to talk, I will tell you, and

until then, zip it! Wha...? What did I do?

Nothing! Yeah, Lana.

Which is why these feckless idiots lost 200 kilos

of cocaine! Yeah, La... Oh.

Uh, okay, technically, but then we stole a plane loaded with,

like, twice as much cocaine! Is this the part

where you tell me to look under my seat?

No, unfortunately we ran into some...

Assholishness.

Archer, I swear to God! I will crash this plane right

into the goddamn ocean! I'll take my chances

with the ocean! The ocean isn't full of

alligators! And do not even think about it,

Cyril! Ray, what do I do?!

Uh... I guess hang on.

ARCHER and CYRIL: Whoa!

Sorry, Cyril.

Ow. Oh, shut up.

It's your own fault. Debatable.

No, it's... Shut up.

Come on, Ray, there has to be somewhere to land besides the

middle of the damn Everglades. Well, not within fuel

range, so... And who's fault

is that? Isaac goddamn Newton!

You see that airstrip? The one that's circled?

That's the only one in range, and we've only, barely, got

enough fuel to make it there, so...

But Miami's, like, right over here.

We can't land at a real airport!

Even if Ray had filed a flight plan...

Why didn't you file a flight plan?!

That's like Airplane Stuff 101. Not when the airplane

is stolen and crammed full of guns and cocaine!

Ah. I will concede that point.

Damn it. What's up?

What's going on? Burning too much

fuel-- we're heavy. What do you mean,

heavy? You said we had

enough fuel to... I said barely!

I bet the Colombians didn't count on three passengers.

CYRIL (sobbing): Oh, my God, we're gonna crash!

Cyril, do not panic. Just get out.

What?! Do the right thing,

Cyril. You have nothing to live for.

Get your hands off me. Okay, relax. Jesus.

Whatever happened to Team Archer?

Please tell me that was never a real thing to you.

Eh... I mean... Hello?

Time's a bit of a factor here! Cyril, for the love

of God, man, jump! Just throw out the

cocaine. What?! No!

I'm not telling Mother I lost the original hundred pounds

of... CYRIL and RAY: Kilos!

...whatever unit of measurement-- of cocaine!

Plus, all this cocaine! Do you have any idea how mad

she'd be? Well, the

alternative is a belly-landing in a swamp filled with

alligators! No. No, no, no. No.

What if, um... Archer!

Alligators or your mother! What's the

difference? They're both cold-blooded

prehistoric monsters.

Excuse me? I meant the pain of

disappointing you would... bite... alligator... ish...

ly. Uh-huh.

Anyway, right about then...

Okay, I can see the airstrip.

Well, can we make it? Maybe, if you...

Wait! Ray, you said the Colombians were flying to

this airstrip? Yes!

Why do you think it's marked on the chart, you idiot?

Okay, well, let's circle back to who's an idiot,

and talk about who's probably waiting at this airstrip.

Dukes.

And what their reaction will be to three total

strangers showing up in their plane without their coke.

They'll kill us! Well... maybe not.

Wait, why? Why maybe not?

Because that.

And that.

Happy? What, like, in

general or...? Ooh, this is

exciting. I hope everyone dies.

Uh, we obviously d... Oh. Hardy har, Mother.

And so our heroes, such as they are, have run out

of fuel and... what. No, no, no!

What are you doing?! Throwing out the guns!

No, no, no, no, no! You're screwing the trim all to

hell! ARCHER (chuckles): This

no-phrasing thing is killing me. Best case, our

glide ratio's maybe ten-to-one. But it's a lot less with the

damn door hanging... Oh, no, no, no!

Yeah!

Woooooo!! Whoa, whoa, whoa!

You idiots!

What did I do? Don't. There's no

talking to when he gets like this.

Dump the damn guns! Uh, I am, if you'd

shut up! Wait, wait, wait,

wait, Cyril! What? Archer!

We're coming in! Brace for landing!

Tell you in a minute. Gear down!

RAY (strained): We're not

gonna make it.

Exciting, isn't it?

Oh, so, Cyril...

what I was gonna say was... maybe don't throw out all the

guns because you know what they say...

it's better to have a gun and not need it than to be the

world's biggest dickhead, and inside your head there's a

million more dicks, like, uh, if you cut open a golf ball, only

instead of those little rubber bands in there, it's just, you

know... Dicks?

Oh, so you have heard that.

And so Gillette lands safely-- I'm sure there's a joke

in there about fairy dust-- and then what happens?

CYRIL (chuckles): Yeah, tell her what happens next.

I will if you shut your... mouth.

: Okay, listen up. Say what you will about my

skills as a drug kingpin... You don't have any.

Completely nonexistent.

Are you done? RAY and CYRIL: Yes.

Good, because if there's one thing I'm good at,

out of the million other things I'm good at, it's infiltrating

the enemy with an assumed identity.

Named Randy. Named shut up, it's

not always Randy. GILLETTE (chuckling): Oh, my

God. Always.

That's because

Randy's awesome! And I'm the best in the world at

this, so shut up and follow my lead.

Hey, guy... (grunts)

Anybody else in there?

RAY and CYRIL: No.

Sterling, how are you not dead?

ARCHER (sighs): Because I didn't get shot with buckshot.

I got beanbagged.

Beanbagged, Pam.

Oh, my God. Yeah, I could've

died. CYRIL (scoffs): It was a