Okay kids, who wants Manning Coleslaw?
And/or an explanation of why that's...
funny.
Sorry, guys, we're, um...
closed, yeah.
Thanks for getting aside from me because
we are closed.
Especially now that the door is locked.
And you're not really supposed to be back here.
Even if you have a, a...
- I was gonna say a hairnet. - Bob?
- Is everything... - Everything's fine, we're...
- Closed, Bob... - Linda!
Take the kids in the back. Kids, go in the back with your mom.
Not really want.
*** goes Linda, now would you please go in the goddamn back?
Well, excuse me, ***.
Look, the hamburger wasn't a big seller, so there's not much.
- But um... - We don't want money.
We want you.
- I'm sorry? - We are not robbers.
Oh, my god. Okay, yes, you can rob them, but...
just please don't hurt my family.
- We're not robbers. - Oh.
- Well, then, what do you want? - You.
- ***. - Da.
Wh-? No!
Ty sukin syn, ISIS shpion!
Even if you kill us, more will come, Archer!
Khorosho!
Ya ih toje zamochu togda!
Bob!
Oh my God, are you guys okay?!
We -- yeah, we're -- but... Bob!
Where'd you learn how to do that?!
I -- I dunno, it was like, instinct.
And were you speaking Russian?!
Was I?
But I don't even know any -- Russian!
Look, the label in his coat has those idiot Russian letters!
Why the hell are Russians trying to kill you?!
I don't know!
He called me "Archer," maybe they think I'm somebody else...
Somebody who gambles?!
When would I gamble, Linda?!
The six hours a night I get to sleep?!
Because the other eighteen hours, I'm slaving over this hot-ass grill!
I didn't know it was such a burden...
Wh-? Of course it's a burden!
Don't get me wrong, I love you guys, but come on...I've been here two months,
it feels like two... trillion eons.
Well if that's the way you -- what are you doing, you're not leaving?!
Linda, you heard him!
Whoever they are, he said they'd keep coming!
You guys aren't safe if I'm around!
- But Bobby... - No buts.
I'm not gonna let you guys get hurt.
What I am gonna do, is find out who this Archer jerk is, and
why Russian people want him dead.
I'm also probably gonna do a spa weekend.
Between work and being a stepdad to Gene and Louise and, um...
anyway, I am just burned out.
So take care, and I'll call after I solve this mystery, or whatever.
Oh, and I forgot to tell you the health inspector's coming at eight A.M.,
so you better break out the purple stuff.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
I'm sorry, I'm sure I misheard you... Sterling has been
missing for two months, we've spent God knows how many thousands of dollars and
manhours searching for him, and this whole time he's just
down at the shore flipping hamburgers?
You know another kind of burger?
Ostrich. Shut up, they're good.
- Shut up! - Yes, shut up!
Then explain to me if you know where Sterling is.
Was.
Oh, according to our intel,
he was tracked down by a KGB hit squad.
- Oh my God! - Sorry.
I should have started that with "Archer is fine".
The KGB hit squad...
Oh my God!
- Not so much. - My God!
- But, so, where is he now? - At a spa.
According to his...um, wife.
His what?
Linda. She said he's name was Bob.
He wandered in there in full morning dress 2 months ago, they got married,
Married? The minute they met?
- Who does that? - Ostriches.
Son of a...
He's obviously doing this just to get even with me.
Normally, I would agree, but after talking to the wife,
I honestly think Archer
doesn't know he's Archer.
How could he not know who he is?
Psychogenic retrograde amnesia.
Also known as a fluke statement,
sometimes triggered by extreme emotional or psychological stress.
- And we all know what caused that! - Yes, his hatred of seeing me happy.
Now take me to that spa!
And we'll just see how this amnesia holds up
against a sudden and quite possibly violent confrontation with his mother.
Ba-ba-ba-ba...
Bad idea!
According to my clinical research on drug induced amnesia...
Said the fake scientist...
- Hmm, and what are your parents' names? - What?
Their names are...
um, uh...
Damn it, Krieger, did you drug me?
You don't remember?
Wow, memory is such a fragile thing.
And if Archer's real identity is exposed to him too suddenly,
his mind may reject it permanently.
We have to ease him back into it,
like a latex gimp suit.
And how do you suggest we do that?
Well, some people use baby powder.
I'm a firm believer in corn starch.
Not the gimp suit!
- Sterling's amnesia! - Oh.
Yes, I have a plant.
Plant?
Plan.
I'm serious.
I want it on record that I think this is a terrible plan.
Duly noted and disregarded.
And I expect you to be totally convincing.
As the damsel in distress?
Have you ever met a woman less damsel-y?
Pam. And it's not you I'm worried about.
It's our pathetic villains.
Guys! Fake mustache, yay or nay?
- Yay! - Yeah, it works, right?
My face isn't a naturally villainous like yours, so...
Here's an idea, why don't you just saw your goddamn head off?
Geez, what's up your butt?
Nothing is up my butt, Cyril.
Oh, or maybe there is. I wouldn't know.
Because I'm paralyzed from waist down and it's Archer's fault!
So, getting some mileage on to that, huh?
Ugh, now damsel up and get over there.
And remember, you have to pretend you don't have a history together.
For the...Sour mix?
In a margarita?
What is this? Auschwitz?
I always do.
Like a big brown giraffe.
Uh, or an ostrich.
Remind me why I let you idiots come.
For the free rooms?
Cause the only thing you are more than mean is cheap.
Shut up.
And just because you own this place...
I think I just own the conglomerate
that owns the holding company that owns the hotel chain that owns it.
Don't even think about screwing up our plan to cure Sterling's amnesia.
His what?
Five ingredients: tequila,
cointreau, lime juice, ice, koja salt.
Oh, and sorry about the Auschwitz crack. That's not like me.
I've been under a lot of stress lately.
- I'm not Jewish. - Did I ask for your life story?
Excuse me, is this seat taken?
Yes. No.
I mean, um, please,
feel free...to...always...do...that.
- Hi, I'm Bob. - Lana Kane.
And thanks. I just need to rest a minute. I've been on the run, I mean,
- on the go, and.. - Wait...
- You're on the run too? - No, I...
Forget I said that.
It's dangerous, and you're married.
- And... - What, this? No, this...
This is fake, I just wear it to fend off the cougars.
Like her. She's totally checking me out.
- Eww. - Ew.
Right? So why are you on the run?
Bob,
have you ever heard of ISIS?
From the Shazam/Isis Hour TV show?
- No, the... - Remember Shazam?
Wait, who's the actor that played Billy Batson? Remember, he'd go...
- Shazaaaaam! - Arch...Bob!
- What? - ISIS!
Is the International Secret Intelligence Service
and I'm one of, oh, frankly,
I'm their best agent.
And KGB agents are trying to kill me.
Huh. Me too!
Wait, I wonder if it's related to your thing.
Wait, why are you at the same spa as me?
I, uh...
Not even the best agent of this pool.
Seriously, how are we both at...
I think I see a KGB agent! Kiss me!
Okay, he's gone.
- Glad I could help... - I could use more help.
But I have to warn you, it could be dangerous.
For you, Lana, I will take the highway right into the
danger zo - oh my God!
What?!
Michael Gray!
Was Billy Batson.
On Shazam.
Krieger, I'm really having second thoughts about your so-called plan.
Give it time!
This isn't "The Flintstones", we can't just whang him in the
head with a frying pan!
How bout a bullet?
Burn.
Oh give it a rest, Ironsides.
Burn.
And please! Focus!
Sorry, I'm trying, it's just... TEC-9's are awesome!
[ Brrrrrrrrrrrrrt! ]
Wait, how'd I know these are called TEC-9's?
Uh, well -- Remember, ease him into it!
Like a -- Enough!
With the gimp suits!
Will you shut up?!
Sorry.
Sorry, it's just I don't know what's happening, this is all crazy.
I'm a fry-cook, but I know all about guns?
Russian spies who think my name is Archer are trying to kill me?
I speak Russian?
Oh, and plus I'm a total badass at hand-to-hand combat?
Pff.
No, seriously, I'm like Chuck Norris-esque.
Okay, hit me.
What?
Right here, take your best shot.
I'm not gonna hit you.
Why, is your vagina bothering you?
Okay.
I see what you're doing.
But I warned you.
Hiiiiii -- Ya.
I think you literally broke my heart.
- Aww... - Shut up.
Sorry.
So yeah, wow, maybe I'm not as good as I thought...
Duh. Okay, the first thing we need to do is search the entire spa for --
An ice machine, totally, yes.
KGB agents.
Specifically these two.
Did you say gay-GB?
- Aww... - Think it's the mustache?
It's not helping.
Well neither are you, so -- To reiterate!
I am paralyzed!
Well?!
Join a support group!
For who, crippled gay hillbilly spies?
[huge, weary sigh]
There's a niche.
Alright you two, you're on.
So try, against all odds, not to cock it up.
Speaking of, you see the bulge on that towel boy?
Man, if I was you I'd be at this spa twenty-five-eight.
Yeah, but then I wouldn't get to hang out with everybody at work.
You hate everybody at work.
I know.
It's the only thing that gets me out of bed every morning.
The hatred.
Yes, Pam.
The hatred.
[ contented sigh ]
Man, this spy stuff is awesome, and I bet I'd be totally awesome at it,
so is ISIS hiring, or...?
No.
What, is it weird because we kissed?
That was weird, and also not a real kiss, and also never happening again.
Oh, I get it.
You're not into guys.
O.K. so -- Just because I don't wanna bang you, automatically I'm a
lesbian?
Yes, well, that and your Hulk hands.
I do not, have -- She-Hulk, then, whatever, they're --
Arch -- Bob!
What, Jennifer Walters.
Alter-ego of She-Hulk, what.
KGB agents, twelve o'clock.
Wh-?
Dunt move a mussels, Amerikyetskis!
And, wait, how are they a superpower?
Oh no, kepitalist spy get drup on us!
Okay, KGB agents, I want you to reach into your jackets
very slowly and -- Drup your weapons!
Oh, shit.
And prepare to die, Sterling Archer!
Jesus, Mary and Joseph Stalin!
For the last time, assholes, my name is -- Shazaaaaaaaaaam!
How do you not remember that show?
So, uh, what's the plan here?
I don't have a plan!
Because those guys are the real KGB!
What, as opposed to the fake KGB?!
Actually yes, and also --
Fake bullets!
What?!
Why do we have fake bullets?!
Yeah, Krieger!
Why do we?!
No no no, you don't know my-- Why do you know the KGB
guy's name?!
Ugh, because -- Bup bup bup bup bup!
Gimp suit!
Unless... oh my God, you're KGB!
Oh for -- if I'm KGB why is the KGB shooting at me?!
Internal power struggle?
Dammit! Ray!
Ray, we are Code Zulu!
Code Zulu?
She knows better than that.
Code Zulu is only for real emergencies.
Raaaaay!
Yeah, she's laying it on pretty thick.
Well, you're in charge here.
I'm off to get a seaweed wrap.
Didn't know they made sushi with dried clams.
What was that?!
The real KG -- What was that?
I can't hear you over the sound of mlah blah blah.
Ray?!
Ray!
What the hell is that sound?
Hamilton Beach 727 DrinkMaster.
- And speaking of drinks... - These aren't to drink, dumbass!
I'm gonna make Molotov cocktails!
Not with Irish cream you're not.
Will you -- Bob!
Oh my God.
Yeah, it's pretty thick.
Krieger!
We need suppressing fire!
Wh-?
We're shooting blanks, duh!
They don't know that!
Duh!
Burn... Inappropriate, suppressing fiiiiiire!
Great!
Just buy us some time, so-- So, I have a question...
- Why did you rip off my shirt... - To make the fuses, duh.
When there's a huge stack of bar towels right freaking there!
Oh. Duh.
And, follow-up, why did you also rip off my bikini top?!
For the slingshot.
Wh-?!
See, we put the bottle in the, whatever, the boob cups, and --
Just throw the damn thing!
Oh my God, double-duh!
Right? Huh?
Zahodi s boku!
Dammit, they're gonna flank us!
So you wanna throw that today, or...?
No, now I feel bad for setting your bikini on fire.
Here, hold this.
Wh-?
I don't wanna hold the damn -- Yeah, I think that works--
- whoa, I am getting some major déjà vu here... - It's not déjà vu,
you idiot!
Well however you pronounce it!
Rrrgh!
Koktyiel Molotova!
Whoooo!
Did you see that?!
Yes! Here, keep throwing them!
Whoooo!
Another one!
- Wait, wait a minute... - What in the... is that smoke?
Duh.
Wh-?
Are you out of your mind?!
Damn near.
This shit is el crónico.
Gracias, Julio, you are the man.
And you are also fired.
- What?! - Que?!
I'm sorry, but all of my companies have a
zero-tolerance drug policy.
You hypocrite cooze, I just watched you eat a whole bag of
LSD gummi bears!
Right?
And I am tripping bear balls!
I'm kidding, Julio, you're not fired.
In fact, I'm making you the new GM.
- Aww... - General manager?!
Of the spa?!
No, dipshit, of the entire hotel chain.
Multinational Hotels Incorporated?!
Oh.
I guess I don't own this place.
Damn it!
I have to pay for these rooms.
Well?!
Well what?!
Why do I feel like -- no, why do I know that we've done this before!
I, uh, we haven't, um-- Yes we have, Lana!
Throwing bottle bombs, your tits flopping around...
Flopping?! Okay, first of all -- Oh my God, what's happening?!
It feels like my brain is exploding!
Krieger, what's happening?!
His mind-brain is permanently rejecting his real identity!
Mind-brain?
That's a thing, shut up.
Uh, Lana?!
Linda!
Linda?
You're my wife! Linda!
And I am Bob!
I am Bob and I make burgers!
- On liubit burgery... - Eto yego problema.
- Burger Bob, Bob Bob burger burger... - Dosvidaniya, Archer...
Bob, honey, I need you to get down!
Yes, down to the store for cheese!
For the Émile Gorgonzola Burger!
Okay, I have had it.
Well, not with j'accuse-cumbers!
Ogon'!
Oww!
What the shit, Lana?!
Archer?
Wait, are you... you?
Yes, I'm me!
You dumb idiot!
There goes the frying pan theory.
Who did you think I was?!
- You, unfortunately... - Unfortunately?!
What's unfortunate is you got me into a firefight with the
KGB armed with a frickin cap gun!
Because unfortunately, we were trying to cure your --
Psychogenic retrograde amnesia!
Duh!
Wait, so you remember you had amnesia?
- Such a fragile mystery... - Krieger, one more word and
I'll make you wish they never scraped you out of Hitler's drawers.
- Aww... - Ew.
Ew.
That is a lot creamier than I remembered.
But, you do remember why you ran away from home this time?
I'm a grown man, Lana, I didn't run away from home!
I... carjacked a limo.
From a wedding.
Oh my God, it's all coming back to me now... What part of this
are you not getting?!
Core concept?
Drive, shitheel!
Wh-?!
Where is the limo going?!
I guess wherever Mr. Archer said to.
Son of a bitch!
Your words.
Burn.
Ruined!
Absolutely ruined, because of you!
I said I was sorry, Mother!
- Happiest day of my life... - Wait, wasn't that the
day I was born?
Oww!
What's in there?
Spa buckles?
You think that compares to a dream wedding to Ron Cadillac, the biggest
Cadillac dealer in New York?!
Technically the whole tri-state area!
[ Cheers ]
Hiya, gang!
Oh, Ron!
Thank you for coming so quickly!
Phrasing, first, boom!
Well, in a Cadillac you don't have to sacrifice speed for luxury.
That baby'll pass anything on the road... except a gas station!
[genuine laughter]
And how's my lady love?
Infinitely better now.
I bet, now that you found Sterling!
She was just worried sick about you.
- Well, not sick... - How the heck are ya, son?
- Fine, awful, whatever, great... - But mostly mortified
that he ruined our wedding!
Well... all's well that ends well.
Yeah, I don't think it does, though.
No shit.
No, I mean, the KGB found you at a burger joint when you
didn't even know who you were, then they found you here?
How did they do that?
I -- wait, yeah, how'd they do that?
Barry, are we losing our minds?
Could be, Other Barry, could be... Because even though
I can see Archer's every frickin move, apparently it's
impossible to kill that idiot from frickin space!
So where are we on the frickin spaceship to get me home?!
And I'm lookin' your way, Dr. Simon.
- Uh, well... - Lemme stop ya right
there, in case you were about to say there's been a setback.
Because that's what Dr. Benes and Dr. Hathaway kept saying.
Remember those guys?
They were workin' with you guys on my new spaceship?
I murdered them?
Eh, probably just a coincidence.
Really.
You're going with coincidence.
Yes, Lana, I'm going with coincidence!
Do you think that's wise?
[ screaming ]
What the hell is your problem?!
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com