Archer

Okay, specs are all in the green. So, let me just reboot the

CPU, and... Beep boop, you are no longer a cripple.

- One, two, three, Go Herd. - Well?

Well? Well, you could've done this weeks ago!

- So it's about goddamn time! - Ooh, hang on a sec?

- Yeah, touchy thing, bionics. You were saying? - Thank you.

- No, what were you saying like you meant it? - Thank you, Krieger,

- for once again giving me the precious gift of legs. - You're welcome.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to remove my underwear with a blowtorch.

Ha! Perfect, this is absolutely perfect.

- Cherlene! - Ow! God! Come on!

- Seriously, thanks for the deaf baby. - Oh, shut up. Cher...

- What?! Goddamn, woman, inside voice! - How...

would you, my little country songbird, like to be on Travis County Limits?

- Ooh, is that like Austin City Limits? - It's comparable,

- hush. Cherlene? - I don't know. I guess.

You... would be wonderful, and it would be wonderful publicity, and...

- wonderful. - All right. When is it?

Tapes tomorrow night, but we should leave today. I don't want you

- flying the same day you're performing. - Oh, don't worry about that.

- Well, but... - Because Cherlene don't fly.

Airplane air is so dry, plus you're breathing in God knows

what those tuberculars in coach are... Excuse me?!

- I don't fly. - I... but-but I've seen you fly.

- Well, maybe you saw Cheryl fly. - In a helicopter, the

- space shuttle... - Cyril choke-banged you on a blimp?

- Oh, come on, we were all thinking it. - What, how are you all

- so goddamn loud? - Could you not find a punch bowl?

It was too heavy.

And also too spilly. Now, what's with all the yelling?

I booked Cherlene on Travis County Limits, and...

- Is that like...? - It's comparable!

- But it's tomorrow night and she refuses to fly. - Wait, really?

So you've only got 24 hours to drive to Texas?

- Well, 36 but... - But after we get a bus

- and a blocker car it'll be 24, right? - What?

- Oh. Oh, God, no. - Yes!

- Archer? - Lana!

Sterling! What are you talking about?

- Smokey and the goddamn Bandit. - What?

- We're going # Eastbound and down! # - I will never

understand his idiotic fascination with all this Burt Reynolds

- Smokey trucker nonsense. - I think part of it is because you didn't get him

- that CB McHaul toy truck he wanted for his birthday. - Wha...? He was 30!

5x05 - Archer Vice: Southbound and Down

- And words fail me. I have no words. - How about

- ten-goddamn-four?! - How about how much did this cost?

- How about a Jacuzzi, bitches? Woooooo! - You know what they say...

- can't put a price on free advertising. - No, they don't,

- and free this isn't. - Exactly. How much are they

- paying Cherlene? - It's public television, they don't pay

anything. All they do is suck money in. They take our taxes...

- Or donations, whatever. - Of pre-tax dollars from pot-taking

Bolshevik lesbian couples! Then PBS mixes it all in with their huge N.E.A. grants,

launders it in inner-city methadone clinics, and pumps it right back

- out to pro-abortion, super-PACs! - Still no words.

- And, wow, maybe I have aphasia. - Where do you think you're going?

She's driving the bus. Mother, get on the bus.

- Lana, you're riding with me. - In what?

In the blocker car, duh, if Cyril didn't just break the stupid axle.

- The what? - Okay, first of all...

- How much did that cost? - Well, again, it's advertising, so...

- For what? - Hmm, I guess Pontiac?

- God. - And where are you going?

Well, speaking for the tiny, delicate life blossoming inside me, nowhere in

- a car with T-tops and a four-barrel. - Wha... Who's gonna do

snappy dialogue with me, underscored by sexual attraction?

I'm so angry right now I can't even...

Oh, goddamn it! Did you fart in that?

- Damn it, Cyril, slow down! - Cyril, do nothing of the sort!

Because if we miss that taping, I won't be responsible for my actions.

- Are you ever? - She said, single and

- pregnant. Oh, wait. - Can you two please go...

anywhere else? It's bad enough I have to drive 24 hours straight.

Well, Krieger said he needed Ray's help on some sort of project.

- This quit being funny two hours ago! - It's not supposed to be funny.

So shut up and drive the damn bus!

Sorry, I'm a bit stressed out about Cherlene getting a record deal.

- Right, and your 10 percent of it. - Or 50 or whatever.

- What? - 50, really?

Who are you, Colonel Mom Parker?

- Nothing? - Meh.

And not that I care what any of you think, about anything, but I lost everything

when the Feds took ISIS, and Ron took what little I had left, so now I need to

make it back somehow. And I'm not doing that selling cocaine, thanks to Sterling,

who, unbelievably, is even worse at this than at spying.

Hey, so... yeah, hi, uh, I think maybe somebody's

holding down the talk-button thingy?

- Uh... oh! Uh, sorry, Archer. - Exactly the opposite

- of how it works. - What? Oh.

- Uh, sorry, Archer. - Ten-ten-four, good buddy.

- Sterling? - Well, he can't hear you now, I... ow!

- Ow! Whose ring is that, the Pope's?! - Ouch!

- Shut up. - Seriously though, I'm sorry you heard

her say that. That's got to be a real knee to the old emotional nut sack.

Well, I guess it would be, if I weren't the world's greatest spy.

- Eh. - Shut up,

and B: If they weren't sitting on a

- hundred pounds of coke. - What?!

- Affirmatory, good buddy! - Holy dickburn! So you got a buyer lined up

- in Texas and everything?! - Well, not exactly, or at all, but, Pam, come on.

We're talking about Texas. Somebody, somewhere, wants enough

- cocaine to forget they live there. - Yeah, but not 100 pounds.

Maybe we'll get lucky, find an entire town that wants to commit suicide.

Wonder if there's a statewide database of towns with sucky high school

football teams cross-indexed with towns a black person just moved to.

- Jesus, Pam, I was kidding. - Duh, me too, lickbag.

Well, but see if there is one, just

- for shits and giggles. - Um, so, hey, speaking of...

The hat fart was technically a shart?

- How are you still single? - Right?

Cyril! Goddamn it!

- I'm-I'm sorry! - What the hell is going on up here?!

- I must've dozed off! - Really? You don't just hate signs?

- No, Lana, I don't ha... Ow! - In addition to sushi,

booze, and soft cheeses, I'm also supposed to abstain from bus crashes!

- So stay awake! - I'm trying, but 18 hours?

- I don't know how Pam's doing it. - Seriously?

Woooooo!!

What the...?!

- Hey, sleepyhead! Welcome to Texas! - Already?

- What the shit, Pam?! - That's how we do backseat drivers.

- I was driving! - Yeah, and sucking at it.

- Goddamn it! How long was I out? - Like, 12 hours? Five states,

dozen cupcakes, a bunch of truck stops.

Uh, breaker breaker, you got your

- ears on, Snowball? Come back. - Hang on.

Your handle is Snowball?! Like Jerry Reed's character in the Smokey-verse?!

- Who? - Oh. Is it from from the cupcake?

- Cupcakes? Oh! Oh, no. - Then what's it...?

Truck stops... are crazy awesome! This is Snowball, good buddy.

- You might wanna check your six, Snowball. - Ew, is that about the shart?!

- Wha...? No, lickbag! - It was a reasonable assumption.

- What the...? - Looks like you got

- a chain gang knocking on your back door. - Bikers?

- What the hell do they want? - I think they want us to pull over.

- Obviously, you idiot! Why?! - Kidnapping!

It's a kidnapping, it's a kidnapping to kidnap me, Cherlene!

- Why would bikers want to kidnap you? - Why would anyone?

- Yeah, you're not even famous. - Yet! Duh!

- Neither was Frank Sinatra Jr. Now pull over! - We are not...

Hey, treebeard! Take me with you! You can do unspeakable

- things to and/or on me! I... - You are not getting

- kidnapped just to boost your singing career! - Well, now wait a minute.

Wait a minute! Did you tell anybody

- we were hauling a shitload of coke?! - Uh...

- Mmm... maybe. - Maybe?!

- Or definitely. Or whatever. - Goddamn it, Pam!

- I wanted people to like me. - People who like you because you have

cocaine aren't people you want as friends, Pam. And not to sound elitist,

but neither are people who need a roll of quarters to take a shower!

It's not just a shower, it's more communal, like a Japanese onsen, or...

Wow! I didn't think it was possible, but I somehow just got even angrier!

- What the heck are you looking for? - Gun!

- Gun-gun-gun-gun! Cyril look out! - No!

- Oh, God! - They're shooting at them!

And I'd love nothing more than to shoot back, Pam,