So there's your breast cancer tumor, and the portacath,
through which you take cyclophosphamate intravenously...
Sim.
And you're taking tetraphenol orally?
E também português.
Em CD-ROM.
Boa sorte!
Obrigado.
And I dunno Krieger, maybe it's because I'm just a badass,
but chemotherapy is kind of a breeze.
Yeah, that's my point.
Two weeks of chemo with no hair loss, and you're not experiencing
- any nausea? - No, gracias a
dubi mediciano.
Which, I gotta tell ya: huge fan.
Yeah?
Yeah, and I advocate its use.
As a potential role model, I advocate it.
To combat chemotherapy-related nausea, or for cannabidiol's
clinically-proven ability to inhibit cancer cell growth?
It does that?
Yep, and if you need more lemme know.
I got a guy.
Me too. He's called a pharmacist.
Yeah, and is he the same pharmacist who gave you all these chemo drugs?
Well he damn sure didn't give it to me.
You would not believe how much cancer medicine costs...
Those pills are like eighty bucks each, and the IV stuff is
literally two grand a bag, so why the hell are you poking
a hole in my bag Krieger?!
Because I want to run a few tests.
- And so, if the reagent turns blue... - What does that mean, is that good?
No. It means this eighty-dollar pill is one
hundred percent sucrose.
- What? - Sugar?
I know what sucrose is, idiot!
But there's medicine in there too, right?!
Ummm, no. Not a trace.
Wh-?! So I've been treating my breast cancer with... sugar pills?!
Yeah, you didn't think it was weird your chemo drugs were chewable?
No! Little kids get cancer!
Aww... they do.
What about the intravenous drug?!
Right, yes, the cyclophosphamate.
- Mmmm... - "Mmmm" what?!
"Mmmm" no, this isn't cyclophosphamate.
Well what the... Krieger! What the hell is it?!
Well, this is just an educated guess, but... Zima?
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Oh my God, are you serious?
Counterfeit cancer drugs?!
Yeah, basically candy corn and Zima.
- Jesus... - Which, probably why I've
been in such a great mood, but But Sterling, your tumor!
All this time, it's been...?
Growing, I guess.
- Oh, Sterling... - Plus God knows how many
other cancer patients have been taking that stuff.
- Like Ruth... - Here you go, folks.
A week's supply of breast cancer chemotherapy drugs, and of course,
your medical marijuana.
Oh, you poor thing.
Does someone you love have breast cancer?
Yeah. Me.
- I'm uh, name's Archer. - Ruth.
And don't you worry, dear.
We can beat cancer with this medicine.
Even if I can barely pay for it.
Don't you worry, Ruth... I'm gonna make them pay for it.
What're you... Sterling no, you're not well!
What are you going to do?
Cry havoc, and let slip the hogs of war.
Dogs of war.
Whatever farm animal of war, Lana, shut up.
I think he gets it.
Just film the confessions, Lana, don't editorialize.
Do you get it?
- Yes! Look, please... - Because I swear
to God I will strip back down and show you all over again.
I get it! I get it!
You have a lot of guns!
And a knife.
Which I am going to push, very slowly, into your urethra...
Ew.
ARCHER:... if you don't answer my questions. Number one...
Wow. What a pussy.
I could barely even keep up, he was spilling the beans so fast.
Well, you threatened to shove a knife up his dick hole.
Which again, ick.
Well excuse me, Lana, it's a rampage.
Still though.
You really wanna take on the Irish mob?
No, I don't.
But they're the ones switching out life-saving cancer drugs
with candy and Zima!
And why couldn't it be the Brazilian mob?
Estou aprendendo português.
Plus I can only assume a Brazilian mob would be a
jillion times sexier.
Seriously, these potato-heads have to be the unsexiest mob
of all time.
You know who yer messin with, boyo?!
You ve any idea who our boss is?!
Nope, but 100 people surveyed number 1 answered I'm the board.
Name the douchebag, who's in charge.
Vincent.
Van Go[BEEP]yerself.
Vincent Van Go[BEEP]myself.
Survey says!
- Jesus, Archer! - What, Lana?!
I said it was a rampage!
Still though!
Rrrngh!
Oh, you son of a hoor!
Save it for the Fast Money round.
Hundred people surveyed, number one answer's still on the board.
Name the douchebag, who's in charge.
Gonk gonk. Need an answer.
Cock-flavored spit.
Well, you never know what's going to be on the board.
Let me see cock-flavored spit.
Guys, that's two strikes!
One more and the innocent Honduran janitors get a chce
to steal the bank!
I'm just assuming you guys don't know what actually goes on here.
Hope that doesn't sound racist.
- Okay, kid... - He is a kid, Archer, so...
Lana! You're in the isolation booth!
- Looking for the douchebag, who's in... - Mikey Hannity,
You say one word and I'll cut yer yella heart out myself...
Oh! Christ!
Mikey, listen to me.
I have breast cancer.
Ha! Breast cancer.
So you'll forgive my impatience because I and a lot of other people
I've been trying to fight cancer
- with your bosses fake chemo drugs. - Chemo?
They just told me it was cream for male parts and ***.
Do I look like I need bald guy cream?
No, but I...
Luckily, I can barely get a comb through this.
It's so thick my barber charges me double.
I love my hair.
- As I am sure you love your kneecap. - Franny Delaney.
He rules everything out here and Brooklyn.
Numbers, protection, dope, prostitution.
Victimless crimes, Mickey.
Tell me about the counterfeit chemo drugs.
They make the pharmacist buy the real stuff.
Delaney says... I swear I don't know who,
but they switch it with the fake stuff here.
And those pricks do out the packet.
What? You guys are in on this? And I was worried about sounding racist.
- Were you? - They don't even know what goes on here.
They can't even read English.
What all those dirty *** care about is
- taking American jobs. - Well, relax, Kennedy.
It wasn't all that long ago that everybody hated the Irish.
For swarming over here
in their potato boats and taking all the jobs.
Yeah, they... Wait, what?
And I'm pretty sure...
...and guys feel free to correct me...
...that Beaner is a *** term for a Mexican,
Is that corrector or nao?
Huh... Had to be a little more *** with the Portuguese.
Well, plus they're gagged.
Still, though... And third, is this the real stuff?
Yeah, this is all real. Why?
Because I'm way behind on my treatment.
Wait, Archer, what are you doing?
I'm sorry, did I mention I have cancer?
I know, but now? In... mid-rampage?
You really think that's a good idea?
To take my prescribed chemotherapy
for my said aforementioned cancer?!
Yes, idiot! I do!
I'm sorry I called you an idiot.
Yeah?
Yeah, you were totally right.
Not a smart mid-rampage move.
Wh-?! And you think that is?!
Yes, idiot! I do!
Sorry. Again. I'm not myself.
But you are kinda being a bitch.
Okay so, day two of the chemo-fueled rampage and, wow,
how ya holdin up?
Not great. Uh, I've got wine coolers on my feet,
because my toenails are popping off like pogs, uh,
fair amount of gastric distress, and umm...scarf.
Yeah well, suck it up.
I tracked Delaney to an all-night poker game.
Great, one second?
I never thought I'd say this, but I really miss the Zima.
I mean was I there for every single recital and lacrosse game? No.
Is our adult relationship perfect?
No.
But I... I just can't even imagine life without my precious Sterling.
Have you ever told him that?
What, are you kidding? No.
Wow, really?
My mom told me how much she loved me all the time.
Exactly. Look how you turned out.
Um... with high self-esteem?
Whatcha doin, Krieger?
Well I feel bad for Archer, so I'm making him some
Portuguese flashcards.
Portuguese?
But isn't... I thought Krieger was a German name.
Oh, über German. It means "warrior."
So how come you know Portuguese?
Because I grew up in Braz... istol County, Rhode Island?
Lotta Portuguese in Rhode Island.
Where you're from.
Born and raised!
Uh-huh. What's the state capital?
Of?
Rhode Island.
- Dallas? - Aha!
What?
It's Austin, duh!
It's Providence!
But I bet he knows the capital of Brazil! Don't you?!
I don't have to answer that! Who do...
Warum hast du Umzug nach Brasilien?!
Weiter den Kampf der mein Führer!
Scheisse.
- Oh my God... - What the heck was that all about?
Duh!
I actually have no idea.
No shit.
Yeah, I don't know why I do that.
Because I don't want it in my car!
Well what do you want me to do, Lana,
just throw it out the window?!
- Obviously! - Oh.
Ha-ha. Uh-oh.
Gonna be sick again.
Not in here you're not.
- Then pull over, Lana. - No, we're late.
You already missed your shot at Delaney as it is.
Well then now this is happening.
Wh-?
Lana, did you see my scarf?
Yes, Archer, I saw your scarf.
- All my hair fell out. - I'm sorry.
Me too. It was my fifth best feature.
- Oh, I think it's your sweetness... - Nobody's ever called me sweet before.
Well, you're sweet enough to come see a sick old lady in the hospital.
What?
I didn't come by to see you, I'm trying to bang a candy-striper.
But, um... it's not good, huh?
No, dear.
Afraid it's just not responding to those chemo drugs.
You two can't smoke in here!
Oh, unwad your panties.
Yeah!
Archer!
- What?! - We're here.
Oh. Right.
You good?
Rampaaaaaaaaage!
Little help?
Leave me alone!
I'm not a Nazi!
Yeah, well what about your father?!
No, he was a scientist!
Pretty sure the Nazis had scientists.
No they didn't!
That's why we... They lost the war!
Lack of science!
Well, we'll just see what Ms. Archer has to say about this Nazi beeswax.
Fine!
Or, you know... not fine.
Because between the cancer and the chemo and the just
- shit-tons of weed... - Actually yeah, good idea,
let's hang back a sec and burn one down.
No. And I know it's not my business, but I think you might have a problem.
Yeah, it's called cancer?
Well, and drug abuse.
Thanks, Woodsy.
The Drug Owl.
Now shut up and kick in the door for me.
And do it badass like I would.
If I still had toenails.
Shite, Joey, ya call this a hand?
More like a foot.
- A great big... - Franny Delaney!
Stand your ass up!
Oh, ya just missed him.
Shame too, cuz he just loves the E Street Band.
Did he just crack on my scarf?
I think he did. What the shit, Archer?!
Oh, ow, sorry. You idiot, asshole.
Now we're even, Lana. From the time you did that to me. I am sorry.
Speakin of hurt, boy, yer steppin into a great big world of it.
- So I suggest ya take yer bulldyke friend... - Lana! Lana!
- Lanaaaaa! - What!
Well first of all you don't have to yell, Lana.
I don'have ear cancer.
Second, until I find out where Delaney is, please stop shooting people.
Go ahead and shoot me!
Cuz ain't nothin in the world can make me talk!
- Well, you say that... - W-what are ya doin back there?!
Don't worry about what I'm doing, concentrate on what you're doing.
W-what am I doin?
For starters you can apologize to my friend for
your homophobic remarks.
I-I'm sorry, darlin! I had no idea you were a gay!
What? She's not gay, she just has big hands.
- What? - Nothing, shut up.
I'm gonna assume you know the difference between an M-26 and
- a Mark Two fragmentation grenade, so... - What?!
- What? - Oh sorry, do you not?
Okay, the Mark Two has kinda... nubbly ridges?
Ya feel those?
Different circumstances, might actually feel pretty good.
W-wait, son, now just wait a second...
Another key difference is the pin.
- Oh, Jaysus... - See? The striking
lever's the same, though.
Spring-loaded.
Which reminds me: did you know that men can also benefit from
doing Kegel exercises?
Case in point, huh?
Now where's your cancer-patient-killing boss?
Okay I got it, let's go.
Wait, you're just gonna leave him with a grenade stuck up his ass?!
Yes, Lana, I am on a rampage!
And also kidding, it's a smoke grenade.
Oh, thank...
- Asshole. - What?
What?
What? What. Lana.
What?! I thought it was a smoke grenade.
They look exactly nothing alike!
What?
What're you doing, Delaney's not here.
No, but my ENT doctor is.
You like him?
Because I sure do.
Good bedside manner, knows all the parts of the ear.
- What was his name again? - Mr. Archer?
I guess you heard about Ruth.
- What? - About Ruth. I guess you heard.
- What?! - Ruth! Your friend! Is dead!
W-what?
Regis. I wake up early every morning and watch Regis.
And that smile of his... well, it gets me through the day.
I'm gonna start doing that.
Oh, you must.
- Regis is the best. - No, Ruth...you're the best.
- Archer. - Hm?
- Archer! - What? ! Oh.
Man, what've I been doing?
Chain-smoking joints the size of tampons.
- Ew. - Figure of speech.
Still though. Ew.
LANA You're not rampaging? I thought you were rampaging.
Right yes, here we go. Alright.
I got this.! Franny Delaney!
Let's take a walk!
A walk?
Is that some sorta joke?
A roll, then. Whatever.
Are you not listening to me?!
Well obviously not.
My God, how is there not one picture of us together?
Krieger's father was a Nazi scientist!
And JFK's father was a bootlegger.
CYRIL Wh-? That's like comparing apples to... Nazi oranges!
Oranges, exactly.
Do you like powdered orange breakfast drink?
- No, not really. - How about micro-wave ovens,
the alarm strong, *** fasteners?
- Okay, you lost me. - None of those things
would be possible without the Nazi scientists
we brought back after World War II.
- The Nazis invented Neil Armstrong? - ***,
which put him on the moon.
After the war ended we were snatching up
crowd scientists like hot cakes.
You don't believe me? Walk into NASA sometime and yell "Heil Hitler!".
They all jump straight up. But, Cyril...
I know all about Dr. Krieger's origins.
And I also know that nobody likes a tattle tale.
- Yes, Cyril. - And if it's one thing I've learned
in all my years as a spy master is that you keep your friends...
- ...close. - Yeah, Cyril.
And possible genetic clones of Adolf Hitler
- ...closer. - Yeah, Cyril.
- Wait, what? - Yeah, what?
Oh, my God, it was you.
My 15th birthday... You... You were at the compound.
When they finish, bring me the boy.
And then my *** accidentally ate my father.
- My father... - Oh, Krieger...
Nothing's an accident.
Holy shitsnacks!
Krieger's one of the boys from Brazil!
Duh!
Oh my God, seriously, I'm sorry.
I think I need help or something.
No shit.
And one more crack about "monster hands" and I promise
you that I will shoot your fat Irish faces off I'm sorry, was that racist?
I'm not mad at you, I'm sorry, I'm mad at Archer.
Thanks to him I've got two perforated eardrums,
and I guess I've just been... Getting hotboxed all day in my car!
Shit, which I'm trying to sell, but fat chance now!
Bet it smells like... weed... and rampage...
Damn it, that is classic him!
You guys have any snacks?
Here.
This is good, right here.
For what, boyo?
We havin a picnic?
Oh my God do you have snacks?
No. What I have, is a plane to catch.
Yeah? To where?
Some bigger mansion somewhere else you bought with the
profits from your fake chemo drugs?
Pretty much, yeah.
- So if you're gonna shoot me... - Oh don't worry,
I'm gonna shoot you.
No yer not.
You're an ISIS agent.
Ya got a sense of honor, fair play.
What?
You obviously haven't seen my movie "Terms of Emrampagement,"
- hang on that was lame... - Ya killed my men, sure,
but they were armed.
I'm just a sick old man in a wheelchair.
- You can't do it, boy. I know you. - You don't know me!
I know you better than yer muther...
Who I had for three days, at Dûc Quay.
Can you, um, go ahead and repeat that?
I said I had your mother for three days at Dûc Quay.
And was that uh, hopefully, some sort of Vietcong prison camp?
Single's resort. Phuket, Thailand.
Whole place ran on beads.
But lemme tell ya boyo, that muther o' yers found a
whole new way to use 'em!
To use... the beads?
Oh yeah. Boop!
And then zzzzzziiiinnnng!
Like an SSP racer.
Good times.
Goodbye, Archer.
Tell yer muther to gimme a call sometime.
Delaney?
Yes?
Did you see Regis this morning?
Yes. Why?
- Oh for the love of... - Shut up! Shut up,
here it comes!
Booyakashaaaaa!
Right in the face!
I swear to God, I could watch this a million times.
I'd swear to God we already have.
Well too bad, mother.
Booyakashaaa!
Hey just because he was your boyfriend...
What, "boyfriend"?!
It was two weeks in Phuket, anything goes over there.
Zzzzzziiiinnnng!
Ahem. Wildly inappropriate.
Seriously.
Okay, Clone Wars.
Zing.
And Mother, we had a deal.
I supply the mimosas and bagels and lox, and you people shut up and
ingest them and watch "Terms of Emrampagement."
- Ugh... - Which, obviously, working title.
We have watched it!
Every Friday for the past three months!
- I'm not complainin... - See?
Twelve straight weeks and Pam's still on Team Live Badass.
Yeah, and Team Live Badass?
That's the best you could come up with?
Well, Lana, since you already had dibs on
- Team I Have An Oversized Vagina... - Hey shut up!
You shut up!
And everybody else shut up and watch "Terms of Emrampagement!"
Why don't you call it "Magnum P.U."?
It's a working title! Idiots!
Liked him better when he had cancer...
First of all, what the shit? ! Mother!
And second of all too bad, because the doctor says
my cancer is in total remission.
Seriously, what is cancer?
So I'll probably never get any sort of cancer again, ever.
So shut up and watch my movie.
For which I really need a better title.
How about "Citizen Dickbag"?
"Snark Victory"?
Ooh. I got it!
Casablampkin.
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