Yeah, and what do you even do here, sit on your ass and analyze data?
Well, I'm a field agent, Isaac Newton. I risk my life.
So, yeah, I do deserve the best space in the parking garage.
Like it'd kill you to roll 50 feet. Stupid thing's electric.
Archer, I still haven't gotten those T&E reports you promised me.
Are you sure? You didn't eat them?
Yeah, well, since Lana broke up with me, I've been finding solace in food.
Well, keep your chins up, Cyril. All 11 of them.
Cyril's about half a wreck, huh? Yeah, so why do you pick on him?
I... Oh, was that not rhetorical?
And why are you bleaching everything? Ugh! Because it sneezed out here.
Okay, is Mother in? Oh, she's in there, all right.
And they're expecting you.
Thanks, crazy. I...
- Wait, who's they? - Hello, Archer.
Trinette. Why are you here?
You don't call me for a year and that's how you talk to me?
Yes, dear, where are your manners?
Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I skipped the Emily Post chapter...
...about how to introduce your mother to a hooker.
Escort, you puke. And I'm retired.
Yeah? Your 401 Doing that well?
I have a SEP, smartass. You have a SEP?
Oh, and this. So I ain't worried about getting by.
Why is this a subpoena? It's for the paternity test.
The what? Yes, the what, dear.
Wha...? And the who.
What who? Who is that?
Why, this is Seamus McGoon Ster... No, Seamus Sterling McGoon Archer.
- Why is that who named like me? - Why do you think?
I'm asking you why. Because he's your son.
You colossal ******* idiot.
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Why?
Why didn't you just get a vasectomy like I asked you to?
I thought it would hurt.
And this doesn't? Well, in a... It's apples and oranges.
I'm not ready to be a grandmother.
Really? But you're so...
Grandmotherly? No. Old.
If and when I am ready for a grandchild...
...it won't be the potato-faced spawn of some Irish whore.
It's probably not. Seriously, what's the odds on that?
So she had a lot of...? You kidding?
I used to have to book her weeks in advance.
Ugh. Although...
Although what? Um...
Phew. Wow.
Trinette, that was amazing. Yeah, well, you know...
Wai... Wha...? Wait a minute. You liar.
This ain't a condom wrapper, it's from a fricking candy bar.
So? Sometimes I like to treat myself. Well, sometimes I like to ovulate.
Well, I gotta sleep, so do it somewhere else.
Money's on the dresser.
Nothing. Hundred-to-one he's mine.
Well, he better not be.
I couldn't bear the shame it would bring on this family to have...
No, please, Mother, finish that thought.
I... Oh, my God, you are such a hypocrite.
You were gonna say "illegitimate child." No, I was going to say "bastard."
Ouch. I mean that's gotta hurt, huh?
Why should I care if Archer knocked up some hooker?
Because babies are soft-skulled, fat little germ sacks...
...and now we've all been exposed to that one's bacteria.
Wait, what? Don't engage her.
But come on, Lana.
You dated Mr. Archer forever. And you have nothing to show for it.
Paging Dr. Loggins. Couple things.
One, I don't need a baby to validate my existence.
And two, the absolute last person on Earth I'd have a baby with is Archer...
...because he is not sold separately.
Did you tr...? Did you try...?
Yeah, I'll come over, Mother, just give me 20 minutes.
Well, I'm sorry, Lana, but I didn't invent the childproof pill bottle.
As far as Archer's concerned...
...I feel I dodged the world's most dysfunctional bullet.
Yeah, but Cyril was... Oh, wait.
Did he have some sort of character flaw?
Hello. Hello. Hello.
Couple things.
Bring it!
Yeah, we are code blue here. Hey, yeah, blue. Like for baby boys.
- No, I meant like for her face. - Choke me.
No, like for let's have a baby shower for Trinette and the wee baby Seamus.
Oh, my God, yes, but your place is disgusting so where can we have it?
- Well, Archer's got that banging pad. - Yow!
Oh, he'll hate that. I wanna come.
Ohh, I think I just did.
And so thank you both for coming...
...even though Mr. Archer is the only party named in the subpoena.
Well, we both have a vested interest in the outcome of this silly test.
And said test will, obviously, be administered by a third party, so...
A third party? But we have a state-of-the-art laboratory at ISIS.
Normally I wouldn't let an intern do this on his first day, but...
Chet?
How's it hanging, buddy?
I'm sure you do. But our client has concerns about the integrity of the test results...
...given your agency's, uh...
...clandestine nature.
Oh, and by the way, super crazy about the elevator pretending it's a dryer.
Barry?
But all kidding aside, ODIN will be providing security for the paternity test.
ODIN? Oh, yeah.
Hello, Archer. Barry.
How's it hanging, buddy? Hanging great, Barry. How's the leg?
Barry, does it hurt?
Because it looks like it kind of hurts.
It did hurt. And it still does, so...
So how can Trinette afford ODIN? Barry.
This is pro-bono.
Consider it payback for my shattered femur.
And that reminds me. Dr. Ben?
- What the...? Hey! - What the hell is this?
We take a blood sample from Archer. Blood?
My God, what year is this? I know, right?
Why can't you just take a DNA swab?
A blood sample is enough to determine paternity.
And after we take a liter... A liter?
How much is a...? Archer will be left in a weakened state...
...which should prevent his attempting to compromise the test.
- Turtlenecks. I invented the turtleneck. - Look.
You're bleeding him dry. Seriously, how much is a liter?
About eight gills. What's a gill?
You're just talking in circles.
Thanks, Dr. Ben. Next. What's a gill?
Under ODIN guard, the sample is taken to the vault of First Savings Bank.
I don't know why I told you where. It doesn't matter.
What's a gill? The bank will be surrounded...
...by ODIN agents.
- Merely an added precaution... - Is that metric?
As the vault is basically one big shit storm of anti-intrusion devices.
Tomorrow, in full view of both parties, we will test the sample here...
...along with a blood sample from the wee baby Seamus...
...thus ensuring complete accuracy of the paternity test.
Any questions? Yeah, Barry.
I'm still unclear on the liter thing.
Vis-à-vis a unit of volume.
I seriously don't feel good at all.
That's because those ODIN ghouls drained a fifth of your blood.
Speaking of fifth... A drink's the last thing you need.
Well, you might want one too...
...because pretty decent chance the baby's mine.
What? Ow!
What happened to 100-to-1?
I may have massaged that number a little so...
How could I show my face around town if...?
Trudy Beekman will eat me alive for this.
Decent chance.
And I can just forget all about getting on the board of the Met.
The museum or the opera? Either!
Sterling Malory Archer, you are going to break into that vault...
...and replace your blood with someone else's.
Someone else's blood. Yeah, great.
I'll just have lgor bring a villager up to my castle.
Uh, lgor. Yes?
Oh, evening, sir. Hello, mum.
Woodhouse, what the hell is this? It's a baby shower.
What's it look like, you puke?
Ugh. I think I could use a drink.
Sterling, pick a villager.
Why did you let them in my house? Well...
Because I told you to buy lemon curd, Woodhouse.
Now what am I gonna spread on my toast?
Your tears?
They just sort of barged in, sir.
Uh-huh, uh-huh. And why are you barefoot?
Oh, you guys are so sweet. I made that.
It was gonna be a ham cozy, but then I was like, eh.
So... Well, he can use it as a blankie.
Ew. What is this, homemade salad dressing?
Breast milk. Ew!
I actually, uh, have my own.
So you won't need this.
Here, it's some plastic dry cleaner bags. Oh, and a book about SIDS.
What kind of shit gift is that?
Yeah, right?
- I made mine. - Me too!
That's disgusting.
If I wanted to look at your bare feet...
- ...I'd sneak in while you're asleep. - Me too!
Well? Have you picked out a donor?
I don't know if it's the blood loss or what, but this whole thing feels...
Pretty stupid, Archer. Getting a hooker pregnant? Yikes.
Cyril, you're... Oh, sorry, Ms. Archer.
I'm sure the board at the Met will frown on this.
I'm sure I don't care for your tone.
Well, I don't care to be judged by a couple of lousy hooker-baby havers.
You were saying? You get him drunk.
I'll go to the drugstore and get supplies.
You said I could hold him.
You've been holding him and you've been drinking...
...and your hands are so damn big.
I don't want you to crush him. I'm gentle.
Lana. Give her the rabbit, Lennie.
- But... - Okay, thank you.
- Whoa! Somebody's got a full diaper, huh? - Me too!
And after that falafel, I am right behind him.
Did you see me? Yeah.
Holding the baby? Looked like Tyson holding that dove.
Hey, listen, bitch... Dah! Careful.
Because in about three drinks...
...you're gonna get all boohooey and ask me to pump a baby in you.
You watch. No, you guys should totally do that.
The mochaccino ones are the cutest.
Guess he'd be half-gay, too, though.
So can you say best dancer ever?
No. Thank you, but I don't care for any.
Cyril, it's a toast, don't be rude. No.
Alcohol tends to exacerbate an underlying personality disorder.
Sexual addiction's not a real thing, asshole.
Well, just wait till the new DSM comes out. Then we'll see.
We'll see you still being an asshole.
So have you ever thought about having a baby?
I don't know, sometimes I think, you know, I'd like to adopt a little baby.
So I could abandon it at a mall.
That answers my follow-up question.
Cyril, you're insulting me. Toast. I...
And what's there to toast about, anyway?
Ha, ha. How about that upper decker I just left in the master bath?
Come on, Ray. Sploosh. Called it three drinks ago.
Come on, we both have amazing genes. What did I say?
Nobody... I'm... We're not... I'm not arguing that we're both hot, but...
Ray, you can do it. And I can watch.
The door. Like a lookout.
So nobody sees you doing the dirt.
Oh, and here's to child support.
I'll see you around, Cyril.
And I'll see you at the lawyer's office, granny.
Toast, damn you. No.
Toast. Jeezy petes, with you people.
Well, at least I'm not a sex addict.
And cue the collective sigh of relief. Oh, shut up.
Hey, I just ran all the way to the drugstore a liter low on blood...
...so I am in no mood, Mother. Oh, and I am?
Cyril won't drink, so we'll have to find another way to...
Woodhouse, dear. Yes, mum.
I assume you're holding? Holding?
Why, just this tray of... Don't bullshit me, you old dope fiend.
After that scrape I got you out of?
Let's liven things up, Burroughs.
Five grams of junk says I can shoot a piña colada off your wife's head.
A hundred thousand pesos in bribes, and my stomach's never been the same.
I shall fetch my gear.
What the hell was that? Who knows?
I didn't have a sip of water the entire time I was down there.
No. Maybe it was an ice cube.
Woodhouse. He's a heroin addict?
Oh, listen to you, Mr. Judgy. What?
Now, go lure Cyril into the bathroom so we can drain his stupid blood.
Cyril, you are not to blame, you are merely a victim of sexual addiction.
Cyril, you are... Preaching to the choir, buddy.
And what's that supposed to mean? It means I understand, Cyril.
Because I, too, suffer from sexual addiction.
Oh, you're just a dirty stomp-around. Yeah, that's what society calls it.
But you know how it is to be surrounded... By women, yes.
Uh-huh. Prancing around in their stirrup pants.
And their crotchless panties. I didn't even know they had those.
Pretty sexy, picture it. I have to take care of something.
Medicine cabinet, Cyril. Top left. Big bottle of coconut suntan oil.
Man, I sh... I shouldn't be drinking this low on blood.
What are you...?
What are you doing to me? Shut up.
What's with all this glass?
I brained him with the absinthe bottle. Why?
What was I to do? Say, "Take a load off while we pump you full of heroin?"
But if he was already knocked out... I...
Dear God, that was my entire stash.
Gonna be an itchy weekend. It serves you right, Smacky Brown.
God, how are you even still alive? Holy shit, how am I still alive?
Eight gills is way more than I thought. That's why you're so woozy.
Yeah, that, plus all those melon balls. I had about nine of them.
Why the hell were you drinking? Uh, hello?
It's a party. It's a baby shower...
...for the bastard child you humped into a filthy whore.
So I'm obviously not saying now...
...but one of these days...
...you're gonna make the best grandma ever.
Oh, my God, these ODIN dicks.
"Hey, where did you get your turtleneck? The turtleneck store?"
Wow, I'm definitely missing that blood. Maybe if I drank some of Cyril's blood I'd...
Wait, what am I saying? I don't even know his blood type.
But I do know a liter of melon balls can't replace a liter of blood...
...because I'm kind of drunk for this. Oh, shit! Nuts.
Fan...
Mulatto butts
Tastic.
- What? - What are you doing?
Oh, you know, just living the dream, Lana.
- Oh, yeah? Yeah? - Yeah. Yeah.
I'm going through your stuff. Why are you in my house?
There's still a few stragglers trying to keep the party going.
Cyril. Hey, you awake?
Because this is about to get weird.
Ants. All over my body.
So shut up and help me find the nutmeg, and I'll make you some Malcolm X tea.
And you know what's fricking lame?
Phased plasma laser countermeasures?
No, what's lame is that you told me a jillion times you never wanted kids.
Uh...
And I move on with my life, and then, bam, you drill one into a hooker.
It wasn't exactly planned, Lana. Okay, shut up, but...
Did you ever think about you and me having a baby?
I mean... Well, maybe that one time, when we had that little scare.
Wha...? Is that a fricking candy bar?
Yeah, but think you need the calories?
You're such a prick. I mean, who the...
Who dragged out all this old crap?
Why are you and Mother in my room, going through my things?
Because I'll save you some time.
My diary is by the Barbie playhouse and the key's in a locket on Mr. Teddy.
My God, I haven't seen this junk in...
Look at that, his little baby shoes.
Cannot picture him as a baby. You know?
I just see an adult him, but tiny.
Like a little Archer G.I. Joe. Mm-hm.
Want me to freshen that up? Try not to drown it.
Aw. His little christening gown.
Pam, get off Cyril.
I was trying to get him off, buttinsky. Out.
Just get straight on out. Oh, come on.
Cyril came on to me. Oh, shut up, he's totally passed out.
Really. Hey, Cyril.
How's it hanging, buddy?
His first pair of lacrosse cleats.
His first smoking jacket.
And oh, my... His first black turtleneck.
Can't believe Lana and Mother. No respect for people's privacy, no...
Black-ass mama
White-ass daddy
Shit's tight, huh?
Yo, where you at, mama?
- And why are you calling me right now? - I had to, before it's too late.
What? I don't want you to do it, Sterling.
What? I know you didn't plan on this baby...
...but, Sterling, sometimes the unexpected things can turn out...
...to be the most important things in the whole world.
Wow, you sound shitfaced.
Oh, listen to you, Mr. Melon Balls.
And yes, maybe I've had a few. Really?
Enough to admit that even though I wasn't always Mother of the Year...
Ha! ...I can change. And you can change.
And maybe together we could add up to one good parent for this baby.
But I'm, like, right here. And I'm right here.
For both of you. Mother, I'm not sure I'm ready.
Sterling, no one's ever sure they're ready for a child.
That's why it's so scary, and that's why it's so special.
So please, dear, do the right thing.
God, the one time in my life she acts like a human being, and it's now.
Was it when I wanted a puppy? No.
Was it when I wanted cornrows? No.
But maybe she's right.
I mean, the kid's cool, and I'm obviously awesome.
So maybe I would be a good father.
You know, at some point in the future.
You're okay, Taterhead.
They only took a bit of blood. Quit being such a baby.
Sterling! You quit being such a baby, you prick.
Shut up. They took a liter from me.
And as the 24 hours of uninterrupted vault footage shows...
Prick. ...said liter was never...
...except for those nine frames of static there...
...out of sight of ODIN personnel. We get it. Let's move on, Barry.
And since you all witnessed the blood sample...
...being taken from the wee baby Seamus...
I hereby cede any and all rights...
...to ever contest the results of this paternity test.
So move on, Barry.
And so said test results conclude...
Exciting, isn't it? Not really, because it's gonna say...
...that Archer is in fact the father. What?
Wait a minute. No, no. No, that's...
Probably the most expensive candy bar you ever ate, you dunce.
No, no, no. Really super expensive.
That's a schedule for child support payments.
First of the month works best for us.
Somebody could've broken in the vault.
Come on, nine frames is... A glitch.
Because even if somebody did break into the vault...
...no one, no one, Archer, could ever prove it.
And who would even want to?
Not a handsome blond cripple like me.
Wait a minute! So kudos, buddy.
Let's go drink some kudos. Yeah, let's do that.
But... Clink, clink. Heh, heh, heh.
I don't understand how this happened. Well, from what I can tell...
...it had something to do with disgustingly kinky sex and a candy bar.
A candy bar! Mother, I'm not the father, it was...
Cyril, that thing is huge.
I mean, how'd you even get this thing...?
You son of a snack-eating-ass bitch.
I'm sorry. How can you cheat on Lana bareback?
I'm a sex addict. What the...? That's not even a real thing.
And the guilt from sex makes me binge, then I feel fat...
...then I turn to sex to feel attractive again, then it's just this vicious cycle.
Shit-ass.
Don't you see? The wee baby Seamus is Cyril's.
And Barry just wanted to frame me. You don't fool me.
You had the chance to make the switch, but you couldn't.
No, yes, I could...
And I never thought I'd say this, but, Sterling, you did the right thing.
No, I didn't. I... I...
The thing I thought was right, but not what people think is right.
Maybe you're turning into people.
But I don't wanna be people. And I didn't wanna be a grandmother.
But c'est la vie, dear. Yeah, and c'est la child support.
Well, just tighten your belt. My belt?
You said you were here for us. I am, dear.
But with the economy how it is... What?
- My money isn't.
Mother, you're in a limousine.
And if I wanted to sit around all day going nowhere, I'd be a teacher.
Sorry, dear, I have a fitting.
Fitting. And that's why people in this family shouldn't have children.
- That and a genetic predisposition toward... - Ants!
Wretched horrible ants!
Ants are gonna be the least of your worries, smackhound.
Running around barefoot like that.
"Hello, hookworms. Get in my feet."
Or whatever.
Some kind of worms will go in your feet.
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