- What do you mean, your water broke?! - What do you mean, what
do I mean? I mean that! I'm going into labor! - Wait. What?!
- I'm having a baby? - Gross! - Bu-But it's early.
Is-is that early?! - Like, ten days, but... - But that's bad.
Is that bad?! - Archer, none of this is ideal!
- Hey! - What?! - What the hell are you
people doing in San Marcos in the first place?! - Selling weapons to
Calderón! - That we got from him! - What?!
- What? - What what? You didn't think that was something I'd
like to know about?! - I'm positive we talked about this.
- No, we didn't! - 100% positive. - When?! When did we
talk about this?! - 80% positive. - Wait a minute.
If the CIA is backing the rebels against Calder... Ohhh!
- Lana! Was that a contraction?! - Yup. Ohh!
God, I hope so. Yup. - Time! Start a clock, assholes!
- Uh, okay. Mark! - Twain!
No, that's barges. - Shut up!
But, hey, speaking of time... - What's your Bishop Score?!
- How should I...? Wait. How do you even know what a Bishop Score is?
- I got certified as a doula, which, turns out, is not that hard.
- Shut up. Does the CIA know Calderón has a nerve gas missile at the palace?
- What?! - Cool. - We didn't give him
gas! - Well, he's got it, and we can't override the launch
sequence, so we've... - Get that idiot Calderón on the phone!
- Oh, did I mention, a tiger ate him? - What?!
- Wait. What?! - Well, not ate ate. - Well, no, but by
now... - Jesus God. Okay, Slater, I know it's a
little sooner than we wanted, but... - Operation Dropkick.
Roger that. - What's Operation Dropkick?
- Well, the endgame has always been for us to invade San Marcos, so...
- Hey, Donna, we got a carrier group in the Gulf, right?
- Wait. If you were going to invade San Marcos, then why have you been selling weapons to
Calderón? - So he could fight the rebels.
- Which is you. - Well, technically, they're mercenaries from
Honduras and Guatemala, but yes. - Okay, so, am I just stupid, or...?
- Duh. Pregnant. - Yeah, airstrike, naval bombardment, amphibious
landing, whole megillah. - Calderón needed weapons to fight the rebels, but
he didn't have money to buy weapons. He only had cocaine, but Iran
was like, "No way. Cash only." So... - Iran?!
- Ooh, sorry. Iraq. Wait. No, Iran. No, doesn't matter who.
Anyway, to buy the weapons, we needed to... monetize the cocaine.
- Oh, my God. - Join the club.
We've been trying to monetize cocaine for, like... I mean, you even came to the
house, where we... We've been selling cocaine for the CIA so they could buy arms
from Iran?! Did we at least free some hostages?!
- No, this was about our annual budget. - What?!
- If we don't spend it this year, we can't get an increase next year.
- You son of a... - Oh, come on, Archer. Drop the act!
He was in on it from day one. - What?!
Watch Movies, TV Series and Live Sports Signup Here -> WWW.ADMITME.APP
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
- You lying son of a bitch!
- You knew about this the entire time?! - No, no.
- Hey, do you mind?
I'm trying to call in an air strike here. - Ooh, hey, what's our ride situation?
- Hang on. Thanks, doll.
Air strike on the palace is a go, and I suggest we take Calderón's jet.
- Good. Yeah, we need plenty of room... until we dump them at a black site.
- What the f... - Come on, even if you
people hadn't lost 50 million bucks worth of our cocaine, you know way too much.
- Uh, I don't know anything! - I believe that to be
literally true. Oye, muchachos! Agarrenlos!
- Okay. Whoa! Whoa! - Jesus! We give up. - Whoa! Whoa! Come on.
- Don't shoot! - Now then.
Let's get this baby out of me. - Gross! - Will you sh...
- Time?! - Nine minutes!
What? This is exciting. - Right?
- Minutes to launch-- 60. - Yeah, Krieger, I guess trying to defuse a warhead
tipped with deadly nerve gas is technically exciting. - Yeah, right?
- What is wrong with you? - Nothin', Roy. - Or Ray.
- Eh. Doesn't matter who. - Krieger!
Where are we on the missile?!
- Uh, kind of just like... on it. Oh, do you mean where are we in
the process of disarming it? Ooh! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
Ow! Come on. Ow! Ow! - Okay. - What happened?!
Did it explode?! - Uh, no. I think we would've heard it.
- Well, it's just a matter of time before it does, with those idiots working on it!
We need to leave! - Well, A: I'm president for life, so I'm not
going anywhere, and B... - Señor Presidente! Our radar station has detected
incoming bombers! From their heading, they appear... American!
- And B...
- And I hate to tell you this, but the First Lady and I are having an affair.
- Damn, dawg. That was my B.
- It's over, Cyril. It's over! - Nothing is over!
Nothing! You don't just turn it off! It wasn't my war!
You asked me. I didn't ask you! And I did what I had to do to
win! But somebody wouldn't let us win!
- Yes, and that somebody is a U.S. Navy carrier group, so let's go already!
Okay, but I'm taking these.
Oh, we're taking everything! Furs, jewels, the silverware,
bullion, anything you can cram in a suitcase! - Mm, mm. Wouldn't bullion
leak out of a...? Ow! Ow! Cut it... Ow, goddamn it!
I... Ow! - Gold bullion, you idiot!
- I don't know what that is! - And I don't know who
you think you are! You are not robbing my palace! - Oh, yes, we are, and
if you've got any sense, you'll fill your pockets, too! Because your regime is
officially over. And I've seen coups from Angola to Zanzibar, and this is how it
ends: in the trunk of a taxi to the airport, your belly full of diamonds and vodka,
praying your driver doesn't rat you out to the Reds at the last checkpoint.
Because then, the last thing you'll ever hear, besides a pistol cocking behind your head,
is Ivan's laugh-- - What... in the name
of God... is funny?! - You said you've seen cooze.
Appropes.
- Vamonos! Los Americanos vienen! - Corre!
- Corre! Corre! - Espere! Espere! Esp-- wughh!
- Aww... All the gardeners are running away.
- Because this entire country's about to be up to its tits in U.S. Marines.
- And unless you people want to wind up classified as enemy combatants, you...
- Six minutes! Doing great, buddy.
Got to remember to breathe, though. That's the... - Oh, get out, you lying
sack of bastard! - Okay, A: He and Mother are the lying sacks of
bastard. I didn't know it was the CIA's cocaine.
And B: Seriously, buddy, let's try and work on that breathing. - What's wrong with
her? - Wha...? She's having a baby!
- Gross.
- Doing good, buddy. - Archer!
If you call me buddy again, I will put the bullets in your body by hand!
- Shh, and we're breathing...
- Ooh... - There we go. Okay, Carol!
- What? Jesus! What is your problem!
- Morphine, want, find, give! - Shh. Come on, Lana,
you don't need that. - How dare you tell me what I...
- Shut up. Okay, Carol, I need you to look down there and give me a
sit-rep. - Down where? - There, down there, at
her, um... - Ew! No! You do it! - I'll do it!
- Shut up. I can't look down there because there's, like, a hundred percent
chance that at some point in the future we're gonna have sex, so...
- Who?! - Shh. So just look down there and...
- I'm not looking at her goddamn va... Joinks! Well, you don't need to shave.
That thing is smooth. - I...! Thank you.
- And also kind of mauve. - Okay.
- Eh, I'd say more of a mauve-taupe? Ow!
- Ow! - Breathe, bu...
breathe, friend. Because, uh... Wow. Okay.
Minutes to launch... six...
- Where the...
Okay...
I have some thoughts on this. - Really? - Yes.
- Which are...?! - Oh. Okay. So, I don't think we can disarm
this thing. - Really? - Yes.
Oh. Okay. So, it doesn't have an explosive payload, so it's basically just a flying
trash can. The only dangerous part is the nerve gas.
- I'm listening. - Roger
that, flight deck. Um... - Range-- 150. ETA-- 12 minutes.
- Hey, is your dad still big into tapas? - My what?
Oh, no, that wasn't my dad. - Well, who was it? - Doesn't matter who.
- Because these trunks feel light. Do you swear they're full of
cocaine? - As God... is my witness.
- God hates you. Open 'em up. - Wha...?
- Will you two come on?! - On what?
- Ugh! - Do you hear that?
If we get out of here alive, I'll buy you all new cocaine.
And a pony! - You heard her, Cyril-- that is legally binding.
- Yeah, we'll stop at a notary. - There's no time!
- Hey. Hi! Do you people hear that? - After the air strike
on the palace, you won't be able to swing a dead cat around here without hitting a Marine.
- Plus, if you did, I bet they'd smash your teeth down your stupid throat.
- Okay, uh... Lana, I need to borrow your weapon.
- No! I will see you in Hell first. - I... Okay, Carol,
grab that one. - Private Me,
reporting for sploosh. - Take Tweedledick and Tweedleballs, go
get the jet ready for takeoff... - Outlaw country! - Let me finish!
- What?! - And make sure they don't escape.
- Oh, my God, good thing you added that last part. You heard the doula-- move it!
- And get me some frickin' morphine! - Lana, come on, what
kind of doula would I be if I let you have more...
- Wha...? - Wow.
- And some ammo! - You were really gonna shoot me in the
face? - Is that so much to ask?
- Uncle. Uh, friend of the family. - Dude. Drop it.
We should get to the shelter soon.
- You coward. - Wha...? - I've never loved
you. - Okay.
- But what if the rebels recognize me? - If...
- Yeah, and then drag him out of the car and kneel him down and shoot him in the back
of the head and string him up on a lamppost like Mussolini! - Yeah. What then?
- That's a chance I'm willing to take. - Me too.
- Cyril, look... - Cyril...!
- Hi, guys.
- What the hell are you idiots...
♪ It's them broken hearts... ♪ - Oh, come on, we
couldn't leave it in the rocket. And we couldn't just leave it
lying in the road. Come on, you don't want a thing like that falling into the wrong
hands. The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is that good men
do nothing. - Said the clone of Adolf Hitler.
- Well... Edmund Burke, but... Doesn't matter who.
♪ ...auto parts This year. ♪
- Dude, drop it. - I'm not gonna judge you.
- The ordnance, Mike. Drop the ordnance. - Oh.
Duh. - Idiot.
- Cyril, for God's sake, be careful! - Would you shut up?
I know how to dr... - Idiot.
- Huh? What the...? - Lana?
- Archer! What... are you doing?
- I'm trying to get this stupid angle right, Lana, so you can look in the mirror
and see if you're crowning. - What?! - For the love of
Christ! - Mother, hey, go over there and tell me if you can...
- Get out! And, Pam, get in here. - No, no...
- Shh... Everything's all right. Here.
All right, now, Pam, I want you to... - You know how many times
I've helped a cow give birth in the barn? Plus, one time, my sister Edie?
Well, she couldn't have it in the house. Long story.
A long, racist story. - I had black guy. What did y'all have?
- I wasn't in the sperm donor pool. - Phra... Wait, are we
still doing phrasing? - Huh. Should I be in there?
I feel like I should. I mean, I am a doctor. - No, you're not.
- Well, no, but... a student of life.
- Loud. I have cigarettes, if you want
them! - No, Ray, I just feel like smashing stuff.
Jesus, I feel so helpless out here! What if something goes wrong?
What-what if there's a-a birth defect or... - No. No, no,
stop. No, what if there's aren't enough hands and feet?
- Shh, it's going to... - Oh, my God, what if there are too many hands and
feet? Is that worse, or... - Hey! I have the correct
number of hands, but they're currently kind of full and you need a slappin', so...
- Wait... - Oh, please. Like you're the only one who
ever had a baby in a war zone. - You know... - Okay, okay, okay.
Get some hay ready to dry this little bastard off because now you are gonna push!
- No, no, no, no, what if we... Ow! - You old bitch!
Now move that big fat smelly ass, you hear? A Day No Pigs Would Die?
Anybody? Not a big Robert Newton Peck crowd, huh?
- Who is... - Oh, shut up. Now push!
- Lana! - Hey, hey, come on, they've got this.
- Well, it's a girl! - Aw!
- And whoever had black guy, pay up. - Aw, shit.
- Goddamn it! - Yep. Got ourselves a little quadroon.
- You did good, kiddo. - Mmm, yeah.
Oh, and, uh, I quit. - Wha... Why? - Because you lying to me
I can handle-- I'm used to that-- but... not Archer.
- Oh, for... He didn't know that I made a deal to sell cocaine for the CIA.
- Whatever. - Lana Kane, you have known me for a long, long time.
When have I ever been honest with Sterling? - Huh.
- Exactly. Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to go threaten and/or
bribe some federal agents. Well, at least put a seatbelt on it!
- See? What'd I tell you! - I thought it was
just for takeoff and landing! - Jesus Christ. - So, um, how's she
doing? - She's fine. I told her you didn't know
anything about the CIA deal.
Well thanks for telling the truth, Mother-- sure that was hard for you.
- You keep it up, mister, and I'll walk right back in there and tell her the whole
thing was your idea. - Did you guys hear that?
- No. - Dicks. - All right, Holly,
this is my offer and it is nonnegotiable... - You think she's
buying more coke? - You and your stupid, stupid cocaine!
Can't you give her a brain chip? - A what? - A brain chip.
Like you gave Cherlene so she could become a country singer. - Oh, no, that wasn't
a brain chip. It was just the sticker off the backpack of a little Lego
spaceman. - What? - A Lego sticker?
- Whoa. So my whole life, all I ever had to do was believe in myself?
And inject a sticker into my brain? - Are you out of your
mind? - Are you? Showing up at the mansion,
pretending to search for the cocaine? - While planting the
seed in your idiot son's brain about selling it overseas. - Which I could have
handled if the CIA had kept its fat nose out! - And yet here we are,
with a $50 million hole in our account. - There's 40 of it.
An original Ivan Blitko we stole from Calderón. - What am I su
- Gosh, I don't know. What am I supposed to do with a canister of nerve gas?
- No, uh-uh. That is now CIA property. - Ooh, and won't that
be a feather in your cap. They might even make you director.
- Hmm... or at least Deputy Ops. - Which-- and I'm just
spitballing here-- would mean you could outsource a good deal of business to a private firm.
Like ISIS. - So you lose us $50
million and you want to get on the CIA payroll? - Right after you
renovate my offices. - Ha! You really are out of your mind.
- Or right after I take this deal to your partner in the cockpit...
- So, what's your deal? - What's my deal? - Never mind.
- Because you suddenly decided to take up skydiving.
- I think we may have a deal here.
- Knock, knock. - Who's there? - Shit, I-I had
something for this. - Come see the baby, stupid.
- Wow. - Yeah. - Wow.
- Yeah. - I-I had black guy. - Yeah. So, about that...
- I don't think it's racist, it's just that I thought...
- Archer, shut up. - You shut up.
- Archer... Okay, so, remember when you had cancer?
- Um, uh, vaguely. - Okay.
Well, we all thought you were gonna die. And one night you got really
drunk and we almost had sex and, right before you passed out, you told me Malory had convinced you
to freeze a bunch of your sperm at Dr. Feldman's office. And I was like, "Huh, weird."
And then you didn't die, and then a few years went by and I
started thinking about having a baby, but I was single. And all the other stuff aside,
physically, you're an amazing human being. And all the other other stuff
aside, I do actually love you.: And so here's this viable sample just sitting there
at Dr. Feldman's, whose security system is a joke, by the way. And so I guess it maybe wasn't
the most ethical thing I've ever done in my entire life, but...: Archer?
Archer. Archer... - Wuzzat?!
Wait, wait, huh, huh? What? - You okay? - Yeah.
Sorry. For a second, I-I thought I was just now coming out of a coma from when I drowned, saving
your life eight months ago. Lana, am I just now coming out
of a coma from when I drowned saving your life eight months ago?
- No. - Hmm. Lana, am I just now coming out
of a coma from when I drowned, saving your life eight months ago?
- No. - Then what are you... Baby, what is she saying?
Baby? Baby. Baby!
- M-meep. - Sterling Archer, I'd
like you to meet your daughter, Abbiejean.
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
Made... in Georgia.
Watch Movies, TV Series and Live Sports Signup Here -> WWW.ADMITME.APP