Woooo! Outlaw country! Outlaw co...
- Stop it. - Make me.
Lana. Are you crazy?
No, she is. See? Let go of her throat,
- She-Hulk, those pipes just sold a million records. - Which is amazing,
can you believe it is so amazing? Everyone, toast.
- Whoa! - Presidente, this
is no time for toast. Wha...No, not "toast," a toast.
A toast. It is even less the time for that.
Calm down, Colonel Panic. Listen-- the shelling has
stopped.
Damn it, Pam. Why the hell did you do that?
- So we can scrooch down behind it. - The shelling...
has stopped. Oh, did you just say that?
- Goddamn it. Is everybody okay? - Yes.
Yeah, I guess. I don't know.
- Wait a minute, where is my wife? - And where is
Sterling? What's that?
- I mean, yes, what? What are we doing? - What are you doing?
- Why were you in the butler's pantry? - I-I was, uh, I was
- hiding because I was scared. Yeah, right. - Really.
Well, fairly. But I-I mean, I found a paper bag in there, and I did some
- deep, uh... - Breathing? - Also, yes, so, hey,
what's the plan? We must counterattack.
But, sir, I don't have enough troops. Oh, my God, always
with the excuses. Sir, you have an entire battalion sitting idle
at the airport, so... No, they are not sitting idle, they are...
Unloading the one million record albums you bought from this gringa.
What? Wait, what?
- Surprise. - Wait, what? Non-surprise.
- Can you not? - Can you not? - I thought people
liked me. I thought we were broke.
I... that's... Do you have any idea how humiliating
this is? Jinx.
- Inappropes. - Cherlene, wait. - Well, now
it's your turn to be humiliated, Gustavo. Because for your information,
- I just had... - Cyril?
Oh. My God.
The gun went off for, like, no reason. Surprise.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
$10 million. On... on cowboy music?
- Eee! Cowboy music? - Presidente,
please, permission to redeploy the troops at the airport. - Ay, aah!
- Jesus Christ, fine. Whatever you want. - Bravo Two, this
is Bravo Actual. Redeploy your troops to sector four.
Well, I am redeploying to my rooms. - Well, I am
redeploying to my rooms. My God, why was she so upset?
Well, I think any time a spouse makes a major purchase without discussing it
first... - I meant Cherlene, you pea-wit.
Why does she care? Most singers would kill to have a record go platinum.
Speaking of killing people.
Oh, my God, okay, first of all, he... Actually, yeah, Pam, let's hear
- some Bee Gees. - Ha, ha,
- ha, ha. - Stayin' alive. - Holy shit, that
- works. - Agh. - Yeah, so does Kevlar.
Wait, so does what? - What, did you just want mouth-to-mouth?
I can explain. - What is this, Meatballs?
You little... - Racist. What?
Cyril, you wear Kevlar every single time we go to Latin America.
- Because every time you shoot me. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, not
every time. Mm, like, three out of four, tops.
- You big baby. - Also speaking of... - Ugh, here it comes.
No, actually, here it goes. I'm leaving.
Ray, airport, let's go. - Have you lost your mind?
Seriously, I am not your servant. Ow, quit-quit...
Ow, ow, goddamn it! - Not that. Lana, in case you haven't
noticed, this place is crawling with rebels. - And not the good kind
you get drunk with at Myrtle Beach and cruise the strip in the bed of their monster truck
with a big rebel flag on it, flinging empty longnecks at people.
Yeah, those aren't actually the good kind, either. - Now who's racist?
Those guys, Pam, those exact same guys you just described.
- Oh. Well now I feel like an asshole. - When do you not?
- Almost always. I really like me. - Baffling.
As is leaving before Calderón pays us for that shipment of weapons, so...
When was that supposed to happen? After a lovely dinner with him
- and his freshly-banged first lady? - His...
What are you talking about? - I'm talking about Archer, who just...
- Oops. - Give me that.
Mother, be careful, that crazy thing's got a mind of its own.
And it's not the only thing. Why can't you keep it in your
- pants? - Oof. - Oh, Mother.
It's not funny, I actually use mine.
Yes, always. God, you're... What happened to no more
anonymous sex? - I... we had already met.
Not the first time. - The first time I thought she was the maid.
- Why would you have sex with a maid? - That doesn't merit a
response, Mother, and the second time she blackmailed me. - How did she blackmail
you? - By threatening to tell Calderón about the first
time. - That's the honeypot. How could you fall for that?
It's Espionage 101. - I know, it's pretty ironic.
But, also, I always fall for it. - And now what's to stop her from telling him about
- the second time? - Hmm. - Nothing, she's crazy.
- Ow, ow, Lana, quit it, ow. Ow, goddamn it. - Asshole.
- We're dead. You've killed us. - Me?
- I didn't have a follow-up... to that. - Oh, all right, Lana,
- you win. - Yay! - Win what?
- We're leaving right now-- Ray? - Already packing
mentally. - Damn it, man, forget your kimonos.
- Oh, like I brought a huge stack. - Five's a pretty big
stack. - Cyril, shut up and go find a vehicle.
Ray, find Cherlene. No matter what happens, we can't leave without her.
- She said, suddenly oddly maternal. - Right?
She has to endorse the royalty checks.
- And the penny drops. - You shut up, and the rest of you shut up and grab
anything valuable. Ooh, like that ridiculous white painting.
- Wait, what about Krieger? - Oh, for...
- Who cares about Krieger? - Yeah. - That's true.
Plus, I bet the vampires got him.
So... now will you join us... brother?
- Yes... - Clone bone!
My God, I have so many questions. Are you clones of me?
Am I a clone of you? Did you all grow up together... in an actual house with an
- actual mom and dad? And was I ever there? - No.
To all of it. - You sure? Because I have this very clear
memory of me as a child, and it's snowing, and there's a creepy old man trying to take me
away, and then I knock him down with a sled? - That's Citizen Kane.
Oh. Wait. No, not a sled. A pneumatic bolt-gun.
Now that does sound vaguely familiar. - Right?
Wait. No. I remember blood on snow. - Right?!
No! That was something else! He was never with us as a
child! - Well, the important thing is that you're with us
now. - Especially since your friends...
"Friends." Please. Can you believe those jerks? After all these years?
- Kicking me to the curb like, like... - A child.
A frog! Frog-child!
No! KRIEGER Is... is that what I think it is?
No. - Well, let me finish, because I think it's some kind
- of unholy, adolescent human-amphibian hybrid creature. - Oh.
Then, yes. - I'm home. I'm finally home.
Just in time for our moment of triumph. - Well, if there's one
- thing I love, it's triumph! What is it?! - All will be
revealed... in time. - And if there's one thing I love more than triumph,
it's annoying vagueness. Cyril, shut up and find a vehicle!
Meh, heh, heh. I'm a hateful shrew! And this is my idiot son,
Archer. He's going to screw the dictator's wife and then shoot
you in the chest! Oh, makes me so mad!
One of these days, I swear to... Jesus H. Chrysler!
Well, one thing's for sure. If I had it to do over, I'd be a dictator.
What?! My God, come on. How can you even say that?
- Because that's what you are! - Cherlene, I-I...
I'm not a dictator! I'm a president, like your Jorge Washington!
Jorge Washington-- which, apparently, I've been mispronouncing wrong this whole
- time-- wasn't president for life! - Uh, but he could
have been if he wanted. Look, the 22nd amendment to your constitution
imposed the presidential term limits, but it wasn't passed by your congress until 1947, and
not ratified by the requisite number of American states until 1951, so...
- Who are you-- Dave Frishberg?! - Yeah, I don't know
- who that is. - Of course you don't, because you don't live
in a free country, where the world's largest manufacturers of sugary cereals are allowed to
sponsor interstitial animated programming unapologetically targeted at children!
- No. I-I live in a very poor country. - Ugh!
No, no. I... Look, I know, but go outside the palace walls, and trust me,
- Cherlene, listen, it is crazy poor. - Yeah, that was
my whole... - And so, I wanted to distribute your records among--
and I hate to say this-- but our filthy peasants, so as to brighten their lives with your
music. Oh. Well, now I feel like a...
- Wait. Do they even have record players? - Well, no, obviously
not, but... - So how would they even use records?!
As plates? - What, in the name of all that is stupid, do you think
- you're doing? - You tell me, crazy
pregnant hormone lady. What's it look like I'm doing?! B-But before you answer, please
don't say "literally being emasculated," because I looked that up, and... ick.
Hold it up. - Lana, come on. You and Mother smashed my balls
pretty good. Kudos. They're swollen. But I-I don't need a cut man!
- The painting... you idiot. - Oh.
Thought you meant my genitals. But, look, I know you're jealous I had sex with Juliana, almost
twice, but don't slash the painting. It's...
Priceless. But worthless... if you damage it.
But even though it's very delicate, it can withstand a surprising amount of shit.
Wait. Is this an extremely ill-phrased analogy about my penis?
Yes, Archer, it is, because everything, everywhere, every when, is about the paragon
of adequacy that is your dick. - "Adequacy" as in "mind-blowingness"?
Or "adequacy" as in "Hey, stupid, you just destroyed $40 million"?!
As in neither, you dummy. This is how you steal a
painting. Did you never see The Thomas Crown Affair?
Uh, no, not a huge Steve McQueen fan.
Oh, my God, are you...? Archer, you used to moan about him in your sleep!
- I-I... No, I didn't. - Come on, you can do
this. Just pick a stupid car. But the perfect car, so that for
once in her life, Ms. Archer can't bitch. And we'll be driving through a
war zone, so it needs to be fast, although I guess reliability is more important
than speed. Well, up to a point. Although bulletproof glass
wouldn't be bad. I... Damn it, Figgis! You're overthinking this!
Oh. Now that is a vehicle. Hmm.
- Let's see Ms. Archer bitch about that. - You idiot!
- I gave you one simple job, and... - I looked in her room!
And?! And she wasn't in it?
Pam, if you want to scuff them that badly, just throw them down the...
What, were you not gonna say stairs?
Hang on, hang on! Wait, wait, wait. Damn it! I have something for this.
It's um, uh... - Well, I just assume it was about that ad with the
- suitcase and the gorilla. - Ouch. - Which, turns out, was
- actually a man in a gorilla costume. - Making the comparison
- even more accurate. - Ow! - Seriously.
- Let go of me! - There, I found her. - Cherlene, please!
No, I said! - B-But, Cherlene, listen, I love you!
I-I will divorce my wife. You what?!
Oh, don't act so surprised, Juliana! It's not like we're in love
anymore! Anymore?! We were never in love!
- And suddenly I don't feel so bad. - You did before?
ARCHER Oh, my God, you have no idea. It's like this ache in the pit
of your stomach. - Are you talking about your balls?
- Yeah, but it's wearing off now. - And I will tell you
the same thing I told your father! I will never give you a divorce!
Tell that to the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.
Oh, wait, you just did! - Wait. You can't be both!
- Your William Howard Taft was. - Not at the same
- time! - He absolutely was. - Is that true?
Oh, I don't want to... I want to say church and state?
Wow. We get home, first thing, we are binge-watching Schoolhouse Rock.
You can binge-watch it in hell!
- Well, if anything, that's heaven. - And you can die
knowing that the last man inside of me was Archer. - What?
Oh, uh, yeah, so about that...
Well, I hope it was worth dying for. - Honestly?
Right? - I... Well, no, but the first time...
Honestly? - No, the first time. - Good-bye, Mr.
Archer. Give my regards to William Howard Taft.
- No. - No....! - No...!
Pam? Pam?
- Pam, seriously. - Archer... - Lana, shut up. Pam!
- Archer, I think she's... - I think she's...
Dead. And now you, Mr. Archer, can join her in...
Out... law... country.
I'm gonna go Jerry Lee
on your ass!
Um, do you want to...? - Yes. Wait, were you gonna say "watch"?
- I was gonna say "help," but... - Shut up. Did she say
she used to be married to Calderón's father? - Yeah, that's
- some messed-up shit. - Hey! - Pam!
How are you not dead? - 'Cause I'm not a pussy?
- And also probably 'cause of this. - Is that Cyril's?
- Yep. - Um... You know they're not
reusable, right? Once the fibers get damaged, that's basically just a sweater
vest. Oh, good.
'Cause for a second there, I thought I actually was a pussy. - Hurts, huh?
Hey, so...
- Yeah. Now do you want to help? - Okay,
Mother, give me my gun. - I don't have it-- I threw it away.
- You what?! - What?! - Why would you throw
away a perfectly good gun?! - Because it touched your... junk.
- How dirty do you think my junk is? - As dirty as if it
were made of dirt and then got dropped in some different dirt and then Pig-Pen came along and
- kicked it around with his dirty shoes. - Fair enough.
Nobody move.
Except you, Juliana. Let go of Cherlene and throw down the gun.
Now, then... - Ow, ow, ow, ow. Stop it. Stop it.
- Ow. No. Ow, ow, ow. Ooh... - Now, then!
Cherlene, stop this at once. As your husband, I command you.
My what?! - Sorry, hang on. Juliana, I divorce you, but also
I wish you the best of luck in the years ahead, which you will spend in prison.
- Cherlene, I now pronounce us husband and wife. - Weddings always
get me. - Plus cocaine. - No! We are so not
married! Are you...? Wait, which is it?
Literally. - Are you literally insane?!
No, but my word is literally law. One of the perks of being a
dictator. - You said you weren't a dictator!
I-I lied, okay? But hopefully our marriage is strong enough that, together and
- over time, we can work through it. - Well, at least he
admits he was wrong. - Yeah, 'cause that makes it all better.
- When did you get so cynical? - The rest of you...
- are under arrest! - What? - Except those of you
- who are to be executed. - Wait, what? Hey, guys.
Um... - In which case... I would not put a lot of money
in my prison canteen account. I'm looking your way, Mr. Archer.
Wait. Whoa, no. I... - Well, then, good luck getting any more weapons,
you-you cut-rate Castro! - Ha! I don't need them.
As we speak, my scientists are working on a secret weapon, and soon I will water our coca
- fields with the rebels' blood! - Gross!
I can't believe I married you.
Presidente. - Good! Yes. I am glad you are here.
I have been bluffing the whole time, look.
Totally out of bullets. See that? - My bad, guys.
That's on me. - Anyway, okay, now, Comandante, arrest these
- people.- But, Presidente, the rebels, they have smashed
our counterattack. They are headed for the palace.
- Hurry! We must get you out of here. - Wait, and me!
I'm the first lady! Please, hurry. We have to go before...
W-Well? Don't just stand there, you cowards!
Do something! Oh, really? That-that is
obviously not what I... Don't shoot, don't shoot!
We surrender! Uh, what's that?
- Cyril? - Yeah, I couldn't hear you over the sound of this
- gigantic friggin' tank. - You idiot, that's the
vehicle you found? I meant a limousine or... Jesus God, woman,
- nothing is ever good enough for you! - Right?
Please, sir! Accept our surrender! - No, not to him!
He's not the rebels! - Kind of a moot point, though, isn't it?
- What with the tank and all. - Yeah. So I hereby... - Accept your
surrender! Dibs! I'm in charge! Cyril, get out of the...
Sorry? I still couldn't hear you.
Yeah, Cyril, you are sorry because you still look
like an idiot. You look like, uh... Oh, my God.
Hang on. Wait, wait, wait. I-I actually have something for this!
- Mi... - Mike Ducockless!
Oh, boy. Ha, ha!
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com