[Archer] Because she's two, Lana!
What possible difference could it make,
what pre-pre-school she goes to?
Because if A.J. gets into pre-pre at Country Day,
she's set through eighth grade.
Then she's basically guaranteed a slot
at any prep school in L.A.!
Yeah, but why prep school?
Are we not even considering public school?
Seriously?
Why not? And in summertime,
instead of a lemonade stand,
she could have a teeny little stripper pole, and--
Malory! Mother!
Public school.
Might as well leave her by a dumpster at the county fair
and hope she's taken in by carnies.
Wow. Yeah, Mother, good call,
I didn't know we were drinking.
We're not. Because Country Day
gets a thousand applicants for ten spaces in pre-pre.
Please stop saying "pre-pre." Shut up.
And A.J. is going to get one of those spaces,
and you're not gonna screw this up for her, Archer!
[man] Archer? Swirling Archer?
[gasp]
Sterling! Archer?
[whisper] Ivy.
Dude, it's me! Ivy!
From St. Josh!
Yeah, I, uh -- [laughing]
Long time, no see!
What're you doing here? Checking out the toilets?
No, I'm-- I mean I'm, I'm, I'm-- [laughing]
[imitating] Wow, still got that stammer, huh?
I-- Hello, Richard Stratton the fourth,
though my good friends call me Ivy.
Malory Archer.
Hmm. Sterling never mentioned a sister.
Oh, you. I'm actually his mother,
if you can believe it.
I absolutely cannot.
Really? Hi, Lana Kane. Hello.
So, Mr. Stratton, are you a teacher here, or...
[chuckling] Oh, God, no.
No, I'm on the board.
And, Archer, you're in L.A.? What's your line?
I-- um-- I'm a-- a private investigator?
[laughs] No, seriously.
Wow.
[baby cooing] Oh.
And who might this person be?
This is our daughter, A.J.
We're here for a placement interview.
Our? Um...
Ours. As in mine and Archer's.
Yeah I'm not the maid or the nanny.
Good for you. Good for you.
Gosh, the times we live in, huh?
So hey, private investigator.
I might actually be able to use you.
Oh, well... Really?
Unfortunately, I don't think
we're taking on new clients right now, so-- [chuckles]
May I speak with you a moment, please?
What is this "no new clients" bullshit?
He's on the board, Archer. One word from him, and A.J. is in.
Yeah, but-- Yeah, but shut up!
This is your daughter's future, you dickhead!
So you are gonna take his case, and you are gonna solve it,
and A.J. is going to school here
and then grow up to be a titan of industry
or an astronaut or some other shit!
[baby cooing]
[sighs] Well?
[yelps] Yeah, okay, sure, glad to help.
Outstanding. [chuckles]
My office, two o'clock. Yep.
Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?
She said, phrasing? Boom. Huh?
Hey, what's happening? Are you okay?
No!
♪♪
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
[woman] Mr. Archer? Mr. Stratton will see you now.
Mr. Archer? Mr. Archer.
Boop. Sorry, had to take that.
Mr. Stratton, I have Mr. Archer.
[Ivy] Thank you, Cerise.
Holy shit... I know, right?
Consider it crushed. [chuckles]
Please, have a seat. Oh, okay, thanks, uh...
Have a seat. Yep.
Ah, Swirling Archer. Remember?
How we always used to call you Swirling?
Yep. Because of all the swirlies.
Yep. We were just merciless.
But I was a pussycat compared to Whitney. Yup.
Yep. You remember Trent Whitney, right?
Yep, he was, uh, actually worse.
He's the Whitney in Stratton-Whitney.
Oh.
Hedge fund. Mm.
You played lacs with him, right?
You were center middies. Yep.
I was biathlon, obviously.
Probably could've made the Olympic team,
but whatever, lame. [chuckles]
And didn't you letter all four years?
No. Just three. Are you sure?
I am, yeah. Freshman year I didn't make varsity
because that winter I was in the hospital for five weeks.
With what, AIDS? [chuckles]
Pneumonia. From what?
Complications from AIDS? [laughing]
No, I actually-- I actually got it
from one of those hilarious swirlies. Hm?
Yeah, my freshman year, you two were seniors.
Right before winter break.
[Archer] Anyway, you each had
maybe twenty pounds on me, and you cornered me
in the field house, and you just laid into me,
[boys grunting] [Young Archer] No! No! No! No!
And then you got me upside down, over the toilet,
and I started screaming, because I look down
and the toilet's full of piss. Whitney had pissed in it.
So I'm screaming, and you're both laughing,
and it's all echoing off the tiles,
and then Whitney looks down at me
with these crazy eyes, and he screams at me--
You think I won't [bleep] kill you?
And then he punches me, hard, and I'm choking on the blood
from my nose, and then you dunk me, and hold me under for...
I honestly don't even know. I lost consciousness. [toilet flushing]
[sigh] But long story short, I didn't make varsity that spring
because I was getting over pneumonia,
which I got because, during that swirlie,
turns out I aspirated water in my lungs.
Well, and presumably urine.
[inhales] Look--
Archer, I want you to kill me. I'm sorry?
Well, you should be! Why the hell
would you say that to the headmaster?
I thought he was hinting at it!
Why would you think that?
When someone uses the term "exclusive"
to describe something, what are they--
No blacks or Jews.
Wh-- Exactly, so--
Malory, he was Jewish!
That's why I was so confused.
I'm not sure I'm following you.
I'm dying. Liver cancer, stage four.
I've got maybe three months left,
every minute of which, the doctors tell me,
I'll spend writhing in agony.
Jesus, Ivy. Yeah.
Yeah, and honestly I am too scared to face that.
At first I thought--
but...
What about good old pills and vodka?
Life insurance won't pay out on a suicide,
and I'm not going to cheat my wife out of ten million dollars.
No, I guess they-- but I can't, um--
You can, though. Please, I'm begging you,
don't make me go through that.
Can't you go to Switzerland, or--
No, no, but you can.
You can open a Swiss account
with the $100,000 I'm going to pay you.
I-- Ivy, I'm not a hit man, I'm a--
A father, a father who'd like
a space at Country Day for his...
I guess, what, mulatto bastard?
[clears throat] I think technically she's an octoroon bastard,
but our whole parenting philosophy is sort of, uh,
post-label? [chuckling]
Yeah, good luck with that. Yeah, so how do you wanna die?
[clears throat] Home invasion. You break into my house,
I startle you, you shoot me.
I assume you have access to a firearm?
I do, yeah-- But you can't shoot me in the face.
Or the belly. Or in the legs.
Why would I shoot you in the legs?
Well I just don't want to suffer.
That's kind of the whole point.
We could do two in the back of the head:
That's painless, instantaneous.
Have you... killed people before?
Uh, yeah. Literally scores of them.
I actually used to be the world's greatest secret agent?
Oh, before becoming an unlicensed private investigator.
After a brief stint as a drug dealer.
[clears throat] Okay, let's do this.
Tonight. Wait, when? What?
Tonight. Why wait? I'll be home alone,
and it's the maid's night off.
My wife will be at a fundraiser.
Kids? I think owls?
Do you have children?
Oh, no. Just a bedroom safe,
which I will conveniently leave open,
and in which will be $100,000.
And a letter of recommendation for Abbiejean...
Archer-Kane? Kane-Archer? I'll leave the name blank.
[scoffs] Yeah, I should probably know that...
[deep breath] Okay, so where and when?
Malibu, there's my address.
The when I don't want to know.
I'm going to go home, kiss my wife goodbye,
and then start pounding Armagnac.
Alrighty then, see ya at like, 10:00?
I don't want to know!
Sorry, sorry. It won't be 10:00.
Get out. [spooky] Or will it?
Get out! [giggles, chuckles]
*** reads the card of a man ♪
♪ A knight who is armored with a savage tan ♪
[door opening] Oh, hey, good, you got the ammo?
10 rounds, custom made, hand loaded.
32 caliber, hollow point, copper jacketed.
Fragmentation round.
***
No, Jethro Dull, it's for a case.
What case? What are you talking about? And why wasn't I informed?
Calm down, Cyril. It's just a, um, corporate security evaluation.
Unless you want me to turn down... ten grand.
Well no, obviously I don't-- wait, why did you hesitate there, on "ten"?
It's a lotta money, Cyril, which I have to go earn for the agency now!
Wh-- Hey, don't forget to get a--
Recommendation letter. Got it. Shut up!
[scoffs] Ten grand my butt.
I bet Archer's charging them twice that.
Lana, I want you to tail him tonight, and--
No, I can't. Okay? Tonight I have to bake a huge batch of hamentashen
and take them over to that headmaster.
Wait, what, at his house? Yes.
That sounds like a really bad idea.
So does minding my business. [slurping]
And apparently her business
is ambiguous, poorly-worded burns.
Yeah, right? Okay, so Ray.
I want you to follow Archer tonight, and-- Oooh, can't.
Why not? Don't get shitty with me!
Her excuse was hamentashen, and you didn't even blink!
Since when do you get a free pass around here just for having a vagina?
Yeah, Cyril!
And also, what is it good for?
What is what good for?
The free pass for havin' a vag. Duh.
I assume we can expect discounts
at local businesses and theme parks?
Oh for the-- fine, I'll do it myself!
Well, good luck with no vagina! Ugh.
[gasps] Not you, Ms. Archer!
Although... Wh-- She's obviously got a vagina.
Yeah, probably why she's such a bitch.
[Archer] Jesus, really?
A glass house? [sighs]
Probably so people driving by have to watch him
bang his model wife on a mattress stuffed with doubloons.
[chuckles] Not tomorrow, buddy. Then all they're gonna see is,
well, I guess a bunch of cop cars,
and whatever the coroner drives, probably a van...
Oh and your wife's car, since she's--
she's the one who's gonna find you.
But, ya know, who's to say if that's any worse
than being forced to watch you die
a slow and agonizing death? Right?
Plus I didn't give you cancer.
Plus you're the world's biggest dick.
Except for maybe Whitney. Oh, and Hitler.
Plus, I didn't give you cancer.
Well, I can't say I blame him.
I'd be getting drunk too, in his shoes...
I can't imagine what it would be like to know when you're gonna die.
Or even if. [snoring]
[sighs] Feel like I should say a few words.
But none spring to mind. Okay then.
Archer, you can't do this... yet.
What if he didn't open the safe?
Where even is the safe? Dammit...
[man yelling]
What the-- [screams]
[yells] What the shit, Ivy, what are you--
You think I won't [bleep] kill you?
What the-- Whitney?
Swirling?
[pants] [clears throat]
[ gun fires ] [screams]
Oh, God! Ow!
[sobbing, whimpering] Oh, shut up. It's not that bad.
I have no pinky toe! You asshole!
Hey! I'm not the asshole here! Whitney!
I'm the guy with the gun! Not the asshole, with eight toes!
Nine, you-- Oh, yeah. Yeah.
[groans] So, since you're the only person on the planet
that I'd like to kill more than Ivy, and since I haven't yet,
why did he hire me to do that?
I don't know, he's crazy!
And then maybe, in his paranoid mind,
he thinks that for the past five years maybe
I've been embezzling from the fund and also maybe sleeping with his wife?
For five years?
We maybe just had our anniversary.
Hey, congratulations... Oh, thanks, man.
On still being a massive dickhole.
Okay, so I promised Ivy I'd kill you.
No, no, wait, wait, wait, wait!
Look, whatever he's paying you,
I will double it!
Well he's paying me a hundred--
dammit-- and fifty thousand dollars, so--
[Cyril] Ahaa! [both] What?
Ten thousand, my butt! I knew it!
Are you-- Cyril, you followed me?
You lied to me!
Yeah, but you didn't know that.
On some level, I think we both did.
Hello, Cyril Figgis, owner and lead investigator of The Figgis Agency.
How's it going? Trent Whitney, murder victim.
Would-be murder victim!
I'm sorry, what-what's happening?
My partner paid him to kill me.
He what? You what? Under false pretenses, Cyril!
Calm down, I thought I was killing the other guy.
Why were you killing anybody?
Because I thought he had cancer.
And also in prep school
both of them bullied the absolute shit out of me.
[laughing] What? Seriously, dude?
You were going to murder me 'cause I picked on you a little bit?
A little? You almost killed me!
I spent freshman year in the hospital!
With what, AIDS? [chuckles]
Pneumonia! From what, complications from AI-- Ow!
Jesus Christ. And if I'm being honest, yeah,
I'm sure the bullying had some influence on my decision,
but I was actually murdering you-- well, Ivy-- for money.
And that makes it better?
Money and cancer, then! Jesus!
But don't tell me you never fantasized about killing your bullies, Cyril.
[Archer, crying] Cyril?
Cyril!
It puts the lotion in the basket!
[Archer] What? What?
What're we doing? Um, I think Whitney
was about to pay me $300,000?
Not to kill him? That's extortion!
I know, Cyril, but think of the alternative. His hands are tied.
And yes, yes, dude, I will pay you,
but the money's not in my house. It's, it's, it's--
[impersonating Jimmy Stewart] It's in Tom's house, and-and Bill's house.
And and and and and and and!
Okay, okay, wait, wait! [keypad pressing]
Dude, check this out. What if I paid you 500, and you kill Ivy?
Mmm, no, I think just the three.
Ivy's a cuckold, betrayed by his wife and friend.
You're a cuckolding thief, and between us, clearly an alcoholic.
He's an alcoholic. He didn't know
he was gonna die tonight, Cyril. For him it's just Tuesday.
Anyway, you're both so obviously and profoundly unhappy
with who you became, that I bet you're both gonna die
in some bizarre murder-suicide,
and that is reward enough for me.
Yeah. That and $300,000.
Yeah. [sighs] Well, you may be right about that.
But I'll tell you this, Swirling.
I shoulda drowned you in piss when I had the chance, you little fa--
[blood splatters] [yelps]
Huh. Jeezy Petes!
Great shot, Archer. [scoffs] Yeah, right?
But as much as I'd like to take credit for that...
Ahh! Yeah, right?
Ahh. Oof.
Who the heck is shooting at us?
[chuckling] Cyril, c'mon.
It's obviously Ivy.
C'mon, Swirling, where are you?
I bet this was his plan all along.
He follows me, I kill Whitney, he kills me,
looks like a robbery. But I thought he had cancer.
No, dummy, that was just a ruse.
But either way, when I had cancer,
I bet I killed, like, 20 guys,
so it's not a death sentence anymore, is my point.
No, but this is!
Yeah, he almost made the Olympics.
What? Biathlon, I know,
you think to yourself "Pretty gay sport," but--
Holy shit! What?
You think he knows Ray?
Cyril, stop it! I mean it, hang up!
Gimme, Cyril. Dammit! Get off. Stop it! Archer!
[Lana] This is Lana Kane. Leave a message.
[beep] Lana! Lana, we're--
We're fine. Everything's great.
Bye, hon. Oww!
Jeezy Petes! See?
I told you not to call her.
Well, we can't call the police.
No, uh, this does not look good.
Wonder why she didn't pick up.
[Lana] I can explain.
What, why you're stalking this guy?
Stalking? It's just hamentashen!
Okay. You wanna explain this?
[sigh] You got a license for that?
Well, I'm a private investigator, so-- [officer laughs]
Got a license for that? [laughs]
Well, not, um, you know, technically, but-- No.
All you got is baby pictures, a Sub Club card and...
what appears to be a very crudely-drawn "vagina pass."
[groans]
Okay, so call Ray, on your cell!
I can't. Why not?
After the whole biker voicemail fiasco...
Mother took it away. What?
What are you, 9 years... Ow!
Haha! Ow! Haha! Ow!
Shut up! And then you call Ray.
Cyril, why aren't you calling Ray?
Because I don't have a mobile carrier. Why not?
I've been comparison shopping for the best rate plan.
For three months? There are literally two companies!
What the hell can you possibly be comparing?
Their respective rate plans!
Wow. Okay, so if we live through this,
which I wouldn't bet on, I-- Wait, shut up!
[sniffs] Do you smell that?
Oh, my God, did you shit yourself?
No, that! [sniffs]
Oh that. Yeah, that's gas. What?
A round must've clipped the gas line to the stove.
Oh my God. Yeah, not great.
Even a tiny spark--
And we're dead.
So while you're getting the money out of the safe-- What?
No, nuh-uh! There's nothing between
the safe and the bullets! [gun fires]
There's me. I'm gonna draw his fire.
I'm gonna make a run for the car. Meanwhile, you clear out the safe!
Okay, but-- Wait, what's to keep you from just leaving me here?
Wha-- The money, you idiot!
Oh right, that makes-- What? One, two, three, go!
[yelling]
Ahh. [gun firing]
Seriously. That must be so sticky.
Son of a-- Can't have anything nice. [car revs]
Cyril, let's go!
Hang on! There's--
Cyril! I swear to God I will leave you!
[car revs] Ah. Ooh.
[yelps] Archer, wait!
[groans]
Oh, good. You made it.
[tires screeching] In the-- In the safe he had
all this stuff from-- from--
[frustrated groan]
Holy shit! Jeezy Petes!
Dammit! Should've gone to the owl thing.
[Archer] What?
[tires screeching]
Longwater! Just like the--
The Veronica Deane case, I know.
What the hell was in the safe?
Files, disks, all kinds of stuff!
And you just left it? You left me!
No, I merely tried to!
Hey, Swirling!
Wow, think of how good you'd have to be
to make the Olympic-- What the?
Cyril, what're you--
Suppressing fire!
[firing blanks]
[chuckles]
So, do you have more bullets, or... [gun fires]
No. Oof!
Cyril, I am so mad at you right now, my mouth tastes like copper.
Well, but are you actually mad at me,
Yes! or...
- the bullies who tormented a scrawny teenage boy with no friends? - You!
Because I find it interesting that you were bullied in school,
and now as an adult you're a bully.
Do you want to talk about how you bully me?
I do, Cyril. I really do,
but I'm afraid I'll tear up,
and then not be able to see the road
and then plunge us off the cliff, and then if you're still alive,
strangle you to death with my bloody and broken hands!
I also find it interesting that you,
Sterling Archer, man without fear, are running away from your bully.
Because Cyril Figgis, man without sense,
wasted all the ammunition!
[tires screeching] Well, but I
think in a much larger sense
you've been running from those two your entire life.
And whether it's your personal relationships, or-- [yelps] Archer?
Take the wheel, dummy! And you!
Me what?
[roars]
How you like that, Ivy? [groaning]
Fighting somebody bigger and stronger than you? Crazy, right?
Imagine what it was like for a lonely, skinny 13-year-old kid
who'd been to six different boarding schools since he was five!
Hint! It wasn't great! [groaning]
[yelps] Yeah, just gonna give them some space,
do the good old "three Mississippi."
[both groan] But I hope it was great for you, Ivy,
because your bullying days are over!
Go ahead, Swirling! Shoot me!
Oh, huh-uh, you don't get to take the easy way out, Ivy.
You're going to jail! Well, you say that.
Whoa!
Archer!
[tires screeching]
[tumbling]
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Archer!
Yes, what? Shut up.
Oh, my God, how are you still alive?
Jumped out at the last second, Cyril.
The same kind of split-second decision-making
that caused you to leave a bunch of clues in the safe!
Idiot! Ow!
Did you learn nothing from this?
[chuckles] No.
So listen, I know you've had your heart set on AJ going to Country Day,
but I've really given it some serious thought,
and I'm not sure it's the best thing for her.
I know all kids can be bullies, but at private school
it seems like there's even more, I dunno, elitism or snobbery or whatever.
So I really want us to think about A.J. going to public school.
Because studies have shown that if a child's intelligent,
and I think A.J. really is, then it doesn't matter where they go to school.
It's much more important that learning is fostered in the home
by loving and supportive parents.
[horn blasting]
Plus with the restraining order,
you can't go within 500 feet of the school,
which means I'd be stuck doing drop-offs and pick-ups every day.
Which, ya know, not doing that.
Anyway, so keep your chin up, or down I guess.
Shapiro's at your bail hearing right now,
so you'll be out of here before...
Um, dammit. Um...
You trying to think of a lesbian joke?
No, hair joke. Something about braids?
Ah, no, it's gone. Okay stay hard! What?
Archer! Can you at least put some money on my canteen account?
No!
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com