Blackmail?
Yes, I... I'm afraid so.
You see, last night, thieves burgled the house of my attorney, Al...
- Alan Shapiro. - Why, yes.
But how did you know that Mr. Shapiro was my attorney?
Yeah, Cyril.
Oh. Uh, so, the reason I know that is...
- He's an idiot. - Savant. Photographic memory.
My guess is he read that in a newspaper
article years ago and never forgot it.
But, you know, many of the world's
great detectives were on the spectrum.
Wait. What?
Sherlock Holmes, um, Darryl Zero...
Please forgive me. I had no idea.
Really? Look at his clothes.
- Hey, you know what... - There, there.
At any rate, um, whoever these
people were, they stole, um...
My goodness, look at me. I'm... I'm shaking like a leaf.
- Would you care for a drink? - Archer, it's barely nine o'...
Corpse Reviver №2, please. But if you don't have real absinthe,
I'll have a double sidecar, French.
Oh, that sounds good. I'll have...
- There's not enough. - You were saying?
They stole...
Yes. Um, I suppose you could call it
very sensitive information.
On a computer disk?
Well, yes, but surely you didn't
read that in the newspaper.
Intuition and a photographic memory.
It's remarkable, but it can be a bit...
Off-putting?
Cyril, get up. Move.
Ms. Deane came here for help, not to be off-put.
Now, then, this sensitive information...
Sterling!
Um, yes. So, about the disk...
You want to get back at us.
- You want us to get it back. - No, Mr. Archer.
I need you to get it back,
desperately.
Which is an excellent segue into a
brief overview of our fee structure.
- Two hundred thousand dollars. - Wow, that was brief.
Payable upon delivery.
Now, if you will excuse me, I...
I think we might have more questions.
I'm sure you do, but Mr. Shapiro will have to answer them.
He's waiting for you at his house now.
- The house that got robbed? - "Burgled," Lana. Pay attention.
And so, Miss Deane, do you want me to ride with you?
Because my car is currently...
- Merde. - No!
No, Mr. Archer. Mr. Shapiro
will handle everything from now on.
And if all goes according to plan,
this will be the last time we ever meet.
- Wait. No. Ever? - I am standing right here.
Yeah, exactly, when clearly we're almost out of triple sec,
so...
Synced and corrected by VitoSilans - www.Addic7ed.com -
Okay, so, what do we know?
Um, old ladies give you a boner?
Hey, me too.
No. And shut up. And, Krieger, come on.
- Let's go. Move. - Away.
- Um... - Wh...
- Oh, for the... Ew! - What? My leg's asleep.
- And you have an erection. - Also. Yes.
And we have to meet Shapiro in two
hours ago, so can we please focus?
Well, we know that someone posing as Veronica Deane
tricked us into stealing a computer disk
in order to blackmail the real Veronica Deane.
And paid us with a bogus cashier's check
for a hundred thousand dollars, which...
- Why the hell are you doing that? - What?
You just said it was bogus!
I don't know. Fingerprints?
Well? Who am I, Alphonse Bertillon?
Uh, so I'm just gonna kind of power
through this, if you don't mind.
Whatever. Jesus.
Okay, so, now, the real Veronica Deane...
How do you know she's the real one?
Oh, she's definitely the real thing.
Please, you can't fake that desperate,
actressy craving for attention.
What you can't fake, Mother, is her
star power, her palpable charisma.
Well, I'm gonna fake being here and
go pick up our daughter at daycare.
Well, then, you can fake getting paid.
- Excuse me? - You're no longer on Malory's teat.
- Ew! - Cyril!
Never gonna be able to stand up.
You work at the Figgis Agency now.
And around here, you don't work-a the case,
you don't get-a the... the paycheck.
Boom! Fridge magnet.
I'm sorry. Did Veronica Deane
spray a bunch of pheromones
that somehow raised all your testosterone levels?
That is exactly what it feels like.
Oh, yeah.
I feel like I could fight a grizzly bear,
like, over a parking space.
Is the bear, like, standing in the
space or actually driving the car?
- Doesn't matter. - I mean... Really!
Does it matter that if we don't get
that disk for that snooty has-been,
we'll have to shut off the lights?
- How will that help? - Not to mention,
it's kind of our fault the disk
was stolen in the first place.
Since we stole it. Okay.
- Okay, so... - Cyril, shut up.
Sterling and Lana, go meet
Shapiro and then report back.
Uh, before or after he recognizes us
as the people that robbed his house?
"Burgled." And it was pitch
black, and we all had on goggles.
So calm down. Nobody's gonna recognize us.
Duner! Blits! Keyn! Nit faynt!
Hey, buddies.
Nit faynt! Keyn! Keyn!
- God, that is so weird. - Yeah.
- Are they not housebroken, or... - What?
No. No. Sorry. No. Come on in.
Oh, shoes. Shoes, shoes. Thank you.
No, the growling. They have
never done that to a guest.
And they are extremely well trained.
Ex-Mossad, actually.
But if you mean the diapers, then
yes, because whoever broke in here...
And I say "whoever," because it was pitch black,
and they were wearing some kind of goggles...
- Called it. - when
they poisoned my goddamn dogs!
- What? - Yeah, the vet thinks it
was some kind of tranquilizer.
But they had a bad reaction, and all night the poor things
were just crazy shitting, uncontrollably.
I mean, like fire hoses, seriously.
It was all through here, down that
hallway, all down the stairs.
Some got way up on that wall somehow.
And there was all this blood splashed
everywhere from the burglar.
I swear to God, it was like a
Family Circus cartoon up in here.
The ones where they follow Billy all around the neighborhood,
only with blood and watery dog shit.
And so, the maids cleaned all night.
That's only because I threatened to have them deported.
They've been with me at least...
Oh, wow. Rosa's been with me 20 years.
Anyway, the vet just left.
They were so dehydrated. We had 'em
on IV drips, the whole megillah.
- The maids? - Th... The dogs!
Oh, my God, I am so sorry...
that that happened.
I'll tell you who's sorry, is my flokati rug.
Oh, and my worthless bodyguards.
Right. And they are...
Fired! And lucky they're not slowly
dissolving in a 50-gallon drum!
She trusted me!
Veronica trusted me to protect
the disk, and I failed her!
Okay, well, maybe. But we're gonna
get it back, right, with a plan?
Yes. I'm sorry. Those vermin called this morning,
gave me instructions on where to bring this...
two million dollars in bearer bonds.
Holy shit, we should've kept the disk.
Safe... from the bad guys.
And by "we," obviously I meant "you."
So...
Wow. Hurtful.
Okay, let's go meet these bastards.
Okay. A, you won't need that.
And B, we need to check in with the agency.
Or... roll with me... we don't
check in yet, or at all,
which means we decide how many
hours we worked on this case,
and not Cyril, who, I hate to bring this up,
just this morning, in front of everybody,
made you his giant bitch.
Well, you two coming, or what?
Okay. They said come alone, but I don't drive,
so they said I could bring my chauffeur.
So somebody gets a snappy uniform,
and somebody else gets to hide in the trunk.
I trust milady shan't be
overly discomfited whilst in the boot.
I bet you get this all the time, but
have you ever done any modeling, or...
Oh, and just so you know, a woman chauffeur is a...
ow...
Chauffeuse,
you dumb idiots.
Wait. What?
What do you mean, they haven't checked in?
Uhhh...
I mean that...
they haven't checked in.
Wha... So no one's heard from them?
- Uh-uuhhh. - No-o-ope.
So we've got two agents in the field...
"Investigators"! I thought I
was very clear about that.
And also about how excessive spinning
causes premature wear on the bearings!
- Cyril... - And I bet they
haven't checked in,
because they're trying to stick it to
the man, who, in this case, is me.
- And in this case only. - Stop spinning!
- Cyril, you stop. - What,
protecting innocent bearings?
- Being yourself! - What?
Ooohh!
- Excuse me? - Cyril, you have been given
the opportunity of a lifetime...
a new job, a new city where no one knows you,
which means you can reinvent yourself.
You can be anyone you want.
So why would you keep being you?
Huh.
And that goes for the rest of you.
Don't be the same feckless idiots you were
when this was a spy agency.
Oh, come on. Just literally yesterday,
you were all so excited about your
first case, and now look at you.
So get off your collective ass and
get me a sit-rep on my field agents!
"Investigators."
I am, you know, still the boss.
Well, but only when I'm not here.
Okay, I think we're here.
Do you? Do you think that, Lana?
Calm down, Fran Trunkington.
- Forced. - Oh, for the...
- Trunky Brewster, then. - Ehh!
Oh, man, I hope that's not them.
Although that seems unrealistic.
Okay, Archer, we've got nine... check that... ten bandits, 12:00.
Copy that, Mav. What's the hard deck?
Okay, you know what?
Never mind. Come on, Poppin' Fresh.
- Are you coming? - Are you gonna open my door?
I know, right? She's like...
Ow!
So, are you and Archer,
- you know? - Unfortunately.
You the Jew lawyer?
Yes. Yes. I believe
we spoke on the phone.
- You got the money? - Yes.
Two million dollars in bearer
bonds, as per our verbal agreement.
What are you doing? Get the disk.
Oh, well, get a load of Miss Daisy.
- Ehh. - Now, you give the
case to Ocho there,
and I'll give Miss Daisy the D-isk.
You done?
Almost. But I gotta ask...
- Where's the frickin' money? - What?
- Run! - What...
Son of a...
Man, I hope you got health insurance.
Look...
Shut up!
The rest of you, mount up.
Sandy Trunkin.
Trunkin Hines. Archie Trunker.
Ooh, Archie Trunker's Place.
Hmm.
That was quick.
Trunk...
Trunkingham Palace...
Trunkminster Fuller.
This is Lana Kane. Please leave a...
Five times, straight to voice-mail!
- Y'all, that's not like her. - You think she's in danger?
Who knows? If they went to meet the
blackmailers, no backup, then...
Aw, jeez, you guys are freaking me out!
Okay, so as distasteful as it may be,
- you have to at least try him. - No! No.
I don't care if they are in danger.
I am not calling Sterling.
Voicemail hoax! Voicemail hoax!
I don't care if they're
getting stuffed into a wood chipper.
Huh? Wuzza? Oh, man.
We better be at a bar.
You, move the limo. As matter of fact,
- move it all the way down to Pearl's. - Aw, be a shame to crush it.
Yeah? Be a shame to crush your skull, too,
but these are the times we live in.
Come on, Miss Daisy. Move that ass.
Son of a...
Hello?
- Wait for it. - Mother?
Oh, for... Mother, it's me.
What the...
Get out! No, no, no, no!
He's biting me!
Son of a bitch!
- I'm gonna cut you with that!
- Kill him!
- You're gonna die! - Oh, my finger!
- I'm gonna kill you!
- Get him to the wood chipper!
Eat shit! I'll see you in hell!
No, no, no, no! Please don't!
No!
Please don't...
No, you can't! You can't! You can't!
Sorry...
- No, no, no, no. Hey!
- What did I tell you? - Yeah, yeah.
Well, but you gotta hand it to him.
This was the best voice-mail ever!
It would've been.
- It would've been. - Ocho!
Mas tequila, pendejo!
Then we're gonna go have us a long
talk with Miss Daisy and the Jew.
So, would you say it's serious?
Ugh! I would, Alan.
We actually have a child together, so...
Ew... Oh, I meant, aww.
So, I would love it if you would shut up
so I can think of a way out of here.
Uh, wanna try yanking on the pipe?
- Phrasing. - What the...
Boom. Deal with it.
- Archer? - Aka Trunkmaster Flex.
- Meh. - Oh, whatever.
And what happened? How'd you
screw up a simple handoff?
Wha... He didn't bring the money.
Senator Stay Puft, rebuttal?
I didn't bring it, because...
because I don't have it.
- Wha... Well, who does? - I don't know. Wall Street?
Creditors? The three different mortgage companies?
Whoever thought it was a good idea to start
a faux hillbilly restaurant chain called "Po' People"?
Which was me, actually. I've given
her some terrible investment advice.
Wait. Did you mean "Po' Folks"?
No. Those guys sued our dicks off.
Wait. So, Veronica Deane is broke?
No. She's...
Oh, my God. Is that what this is?
You're just intrigued by the idea of a sugar mama?
- No, not at all. - Wait. What?
- What? - She's not broke.
But she doesn't have two million bucks for blackmail,
so I figured I'd just bluff it,
and then you guys would take 'em down.
- Why would you think that? - Come on.
I know who you guys are.
Okay. Jesus.
Look, I am so, so sorry we made your dogs sick.
You what?
- What? - It was you!
Jesus Christ! You broke into my house!
- You stole the disk! - Ugh!
What were you gonna say?
That I know you used to be spies!
Ohhhh.
- And assholes! - Stop.
- St... Stop it. Stop it. - Ow!
Sorry, but we got duped. We thought we
were stealing the disk for Veronica.
Oh, now you're on a first-name basis.
And, again, seriously, about the dogs...
- Ow! - Well?
What is wrong with this thing? Why can't I dial out?
Because it's not... Hey, wait. Hang on. Stop.
Stop. You guys hear that?
My God!
He actually trained crickets.
No. I think that's... Jeezy Petes!
- The line's still open! - What? What are you saying?
- That's not Archer's voice-mail. - Those are real-life crickets!
- So? - So everything we
heard really happened.
Well, what are we waiting for?
I'm not giving you my pants.
Well, I won't proceed without pants,
Lana, and I can't wear his pants.
Yeah. Plus, he's all dirty and bloody.
And it's not like yours won't fit me.
What is going on with your thighs?
Oh, my God. They're jodhpurs!
No. I know. I mean lately.
I bet that would've hurt even with pants.
Okay, you're gonna take the next exit.
We're only a few miles out.
And how are you tracking his phone?
Same way I track all of your... Um, so,
you might even wanna start getting over now for that exit.
Bee-boop.
Oh, get up, you big baby.
I honestly don't think I can.
- Archer... - Seriously, I was
already pretty exhausted.
Physically, obviously, I'm
pretty sure I got stabbed twice.
- Goddamn, dude. - But, man, emotionally?
It's been a long time since I killed anybody.
You killed some of the bikers?
They tried to wood-chipper me!
- No. I meant... - Although to be fair,
if you open what you think is an empty trunk,
and suddenly there's a guy in
there, you're gonna overreact.
Kind of like that time I walked into that
motel room, and it was full of seagulls.
- Archer. - God.
- Myrtle Beach is a train wreck. - Archer!
I don't know, Lana. I may have.
I was in rampage mode.
I definitely knocked out, like, seven or eight, so...
- Goddamn! - Yeah. Pretty beat.
So, is there any liquor back here?
Like, even cooking sherry, or...
My point is, there's probably only
two or three bikers left out there.
So go beat 'em up. Get the keys, get
the disk, and let's get outta here.
Already?
Don't you even wanna know who hired us for the handoff?
It was you!
You had the fake Veronica Deane hire us to steal that disk!
What? Get...
Ow! No, it wasn't me.
I'd never do that to Veronica.
If that disk gets out, she'll be ruined.
And I'm... And I'm in love with her.
Of course you are.
Oh, don't be jealous, baby.
You and I will always have what we had.
- Wait. What? What? - Uh, so, who did hire you?
That's for me to know and you to find out.
Well, and for us to find out,
too, since we don't know, either.
Or why I said that out loud.
What we do know is that our cut
of two mil is ten percent.
So, unless somebody's got two hundred grand
burning a hole in their pocket, I...
I have a cashier's check for that exact
amount, literally, in my pocket.
It was to pay these private dicks.
But if their actions
don't constitute breach of contract, then...
Well, I'll just go ahead and take that.
I already got dibs.
And why the hell are you naked?
It's after Labor Day.
You ain't gonna get away with this.
I'm gonna hunt you down, like... Ow!
Tell it to the cops, shit-bird.
Although obviously never speak to the
police without an attorney present.
Thanks for coming, you guys.
- Oh, my tits, whaaat! - No.
- We're back to saying "phrasing." - I'm not.
Well, apparently we're not saying "thank you."
Thank you, Mother, for arriving.
Wait. So, could Ray not be bothered?
He's outside, securing the perimeter.
Say I won't.
Good work, Ray. Thanks for coming.
Oh, my tits, whaaat!
What are you wearing?
Thought I might have to go undercover.
- As what? - A biker, dum-dum.
It's just you look kind of gay.
- I look gay. - A little bit. Yeah.
Well, did you see Lana? Hey, Earl Campbell called.
He wants his thighs back.
Okay, so, first case... pros and cons.
Well, we got tricked into blackmailing
Veronica Deane, beloved Hollywood icon.
- Yeah, that's definitely a con. - But then we...
Well, I totally kicked ass and got the disk back.
I will begrudge you a pro.
Although I didn't get to give it to her in person.
- Maybe over cocktails. - Pro.
Also, we never found out what's on it
or what "Longwater" even means, so...
Because it's none of our business!
Oh, and speaking of business,
Shapiro said he'd recommend us to any
of his clients that might need PI work.
Ooh, the case of the missing kishke.
Oh, and I also got stabbed.
How is that a pro, you dick?
Learning experience?
Well, joke's on you. I didn't learn anything.
There's your fridge magnet.
So, all in all, I'd say our first case was
a bit of a mixed bag.
Oh, I don't know.
Two hundred thousand dollars for two days' work?
That's not too shabby, people.
Two hundred thousand divided
by eight equal shares.
That's... Holy shit-snacks! 25 grand each?
Wait. What do you mean, "equal shares"?
What do you think this is, a pirate ship?
Well, there's an easy way to find out.
Like, I assume there's some sort
of leather-bound ship's registry
in the office of the Lord High Admiral.
Ugh! Fine! I'll find it myself.
Idiots!
Synced and corrected by VitoSilans - www.Addic7ed.com -