Now, then, Mr. Crane,
tell us what the Archer Agency can do for you.
- Well, I... - Excuse me.
It's the Figgis Agency.
Cyril, please! Stop interrupting.
Now, Mr. Crane, how can we help you?
Well, I'm afraid that someone, or someones,
is trying to sabotage my latest picture, Deadly Velvet.
You mean besides the critics?
Huh? We're still in production.
It's a joke. Lighten up, Fritz Lang.
And what makes you suspect sabotage?
Well, as Lana can confirm...
Oh-ho-ho, so now it's "Lana"?
Uh, Miss Kane, rather, who, as you know,
has recently begun working
on the picture as a technical advisor.
There's already been three accidents on-set
which were pretty suspicious.
A fire, a camera crane collapsed...
Narrowly missing several crew members.
And yesterday, there was some kind of malfunction
with a stuntman's airbag.
That poor devil may be paralyzed.
Well, it certainly sounds suspicious.
But why come to us? Why not the police?
- I... - I don't know, Cyril.
Maybe he wanted to be interrupted every five seconds.
I don't, actually.
And Ellis doesn't want the police involved.
Oh-ho-ho-ho. So now it's "Ellis"?
Yes, Archer. It's Ellis. And Lana.
He and I are on a first-name basis,
whereas you and I are on a break!
Yeah, how you holdin' up?
- Pff. - I'll take that as a "barely."
Take it however you want.
Already did, so...
- Could we... - Cyril, I swear to God...
Malory! Ellis wants to hire the agency
to go undercover on the set.
Ooh.
You could pose as technical advisor.
I already am.
- Posing. - The technical advisor.
And if someone is trying to sabotage the movie,
- our job is to catch them. - Discreetly.
If the insurance company pulls the bond or, God forbid,
my investors back out, I'll be ruined!
Don't worry, Mr. Crane. We won't let that happen.
Put your faith in us.
I'm afraid I must.
We'll see you there this afternoon.
Ellis, should we get back to the set?
Meh? Meh, meh, meh, meh, meh, meh?
- And, uh, how are you holding up? - Pff.
All right, listen up.
As much as I hate, hate, hate, hate...
to do this, a movie set is huge,
so we're going to need all of you to go undercover, so...
- Yay! - Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!
So try to act like professionals.
Professional whats? What do we have to do, more work?
Well, I've tried to match the various production departments
to your skill sets, such as they are,
so Cyril... accounting. Get into those books.
Find out who could benefit from cost overruns
or delays in production.
And that is exactly what I was going to tell myself to do, so...
Pam... craft services.
Goddamn it.
Wh... I'm the one who knows macramé.
And you're also babysitting Carol.
Wh... Why do I need a babysitter?
Because they've already had one fire.
Then why not just leave her here?
Because we've already had one fire.
Now, then, Gillette...
Hair and makeup, hair and makeup, hair and makeup,
hair and makeup!
Finished?
Yes. Grip.
Goddamn it!
Ooh, what about me? What about me?
Oh, you just sort of skulk around.
Oh, I will.
And I shall pose as an executive producer,
which leaves Sterling.
Yeah, it leaves him right here 'cause I'll be damned
if I'm helping Lana's new pretend boyfriend make a movie.
- Oh, that's too bad. - Yeah, well...
Krieger, I suppose you'll just have to be
Veronica Deane's new bodyguard.
Let's go, you dumb idiots.
Well, one of you, anyway.
The rest of you, I guess maybe carpool.
Luigi won't let anybody ride in the cab.
I mean, unless you're down for road head.
Shotgun!
sync and corrected by othelo www.addic7ed.com
♪ Lunch, hot lunch! ♪
♪ You get it from hot lunch Pam ♪
♪ Hot lunch! ♪
Okay. Jesus, why are you in such
an obnoxiously good mood?
Because that crazy dago
let me drive the truck,
so I was the road head-ee.
Yeah. Win for you.
Yep. Just one of the many perks of having a C.D.L.
What's a C.D.L.?
Commercial driver's license.
And also a.
Ugh! You are so gross.
That's what he said.
But in Italian.
Who said what in Italian?
Don't ask. You'll gag.
I thought maybe you dopes had stumbled
onto some sort of mafia shakedown.
We've been here, like, four minutes.
Well? Anything suspicious so far?
Uh, just you?
What, I'm a flamboyant Hollywood producer.
Not the world's tiniest drag queen?
What?
I said we'll keep you updated.
Well, you'd better, missy.
Holy shit, did she just eat a grape?
Must be her cheat day.
Man, it really looks like the '40s.
This is weird, right?
Like the time Star Trek went to Chicago.
Or Nazi Germany, for whatever idiot reason.
Archer?
Shapiro? What are you doing here?
Protecting my client
with my colleagues, Smith & Wesson.
Oh, really, 'cause I'd like to meet those guys.
Come on, stop.
First of all, not a Smith & Wesson.
I know, but I was going for the whole...
- Second of all, this. - No, no, no, no, no.
Goddamn it.
What the hell, man? I needed that.
No, you didn't.
Yes, I did. This set is dangerous.
As dangerous as you with a firearm?
Are you kid...
Shit's catching on fire.
Shit's falling on people.
People are falling on shit. Like the ground.
Well, I think it's all just a big dumb coincidence,
but even if it's not, don't worry about...
Veronica Deane.
Yes? Oh, hello, Alan.
Wait. That's why you're here?
Yeah, Crane hired us.
It's nice to see you again, Ms. Deane.
I'm sorry. Have we met?
Oh, um, yeah.
I'm Sterling Archer, private investigator.
You hired me.
Um, and then another time,
I protected you in a hostage situation,
dressed as a clown.
- Is this not ringing any... - Alan?
Apparently Ellis hired him to protect you during the shoot.
Other than my ex-husband's refusal to let me get on with my life,
the only thing I need protection from is this clunky dialogue.
Thought I had a joke, but...
Mr... Archer, was it?
Yeah. We actually even kissed.
I'm sorry you've wasted your time, but I can assure you
I have absolutely no need for a bodyguard, so...
Look out!
You were saying?
Yeah, you were.
Move those cans. Now!
Don't you break my cables! Come on, people!
Move the cables! Careful!
Oh, for God's sakes, what now?
Looks like a runaway forklift.
That, and I'm pretty sure my ribs are shattered.
- Like breadsticks. - Move those lights, you fools!
Oh, we're just hemorrhaging money.
- And speaking of hemorrhaging... - What in the hell happened?
- A forklift. - And a forkwad.
What's the big idea, kicking my guts out?
When, just now? When I saved your life?
- And mine. - Oh, now...
Oh, please.
What's her problem?
How much time do you have?
What is wrong with you?!
What's wrong with you, lady?
You killed it.
It was beautiful, and you blew it out!
You maniacs!
You blew it out! Damn you!
Goddamn you all to hell!
What the hell, Tunt?
You leave me to craft all the service by myself?
I smelled fire.
You mean smoke.
Uh, no.
Oh, I can't believe this.
Yes, it would appear your "phantom" has struck agai...
Shh-shh-shh-shh...
Back to work, you... you goldbricks.
All right, you heard the man. Let's go, let's go, let's go!
That's exactly the sort of rumor
I don't want you spreading around.
Maybe this was just an accident.
Nah, somebody definitely tampered with it.
The brake line's cut, the steering wheel's tied off,
and the throttle linkage is jammed wide open.
Yeah, I was gonna say...
linkage jam.
Says the man who pays
to have his Ferrari trucked around on a flatbed.
And how much is that costing you?
Actually, not much more than just driving it,
when you factor in all the repairs.
Plus no DUIs.
Well, fewer.
And shut up.
You wanna try and make me? Huh?
Now, listen here, you... you rounder.
You keep a civil tone here with Ms. Kane,
or I'll throw you off this set so fast you'll...
you'll pass yourself going.
- Wait, what? - You'll do nothing of the sort.
Archer is my bodyguard,
and if he goes, you can find yourself another female lead.
And on the off chance you plan to shoot anything today,
I'll be in my dressing room!
Archer? Shall we?
Yes, we probably shall.
Damn it.
Yeah, well Ellis and I will be in his dressing room, so...
shall we?
Actually, my dear, I need to go meet with my investors
to cushion the blow about this,
as it were, so... hmm.
So, apparently, you shan't.
Oh, my God, jealous much?
Jealous.
It's getting hard to tell the kettles from the pots around here.
Well, usually, kettles have whistles.
If that helps.
Hey, Malory, do you have a minute?
"Malory"? What happened to "Ms. Archer"?
Well, technically, they both work for me, so...
So you thought today would be a good day to try on your big-boy britches
right in the middle of a mystery?
That's my point.
I think I may have found a clue.
Well, all right, Cyril.
But you'd better just wind in that neck, Mr. Man.
So, Archer...
would you say women, on the whole,
found him attractive?
Which hole?
Because yes.
Albeit grudgingly.
And sexually, would you say...
Which hole?
Sorry. What?
And would you say he's... accomplished?
Like, is he good at plowing?
You know he's straight, right?
- I'm... - Aww, Li'l Baby Elton...
I'm straight.
Okay, hypothetically...
No, not... Wait... Look, I'm in love with Veronica.
I have been since the first time I laid eyes on her.
I'll never forget that moment.
It felt like I got kicked in the chest by a mule.
Yeah, you don't forget a hoof to the tits.
Or shooting your first mule.
Wh... How many have you shot?
Hmm... two.
Anyway, since she and Crane divorced,
I thought I might have a chance.
But now I'm worried she might fall for Archer.
If she hasn't already.
Which...
I just need a moment to change
into something more comfortable.
But, please, do make yourself at home.
Faites comme chez vouz, as the French say.
Please, take your time.
Oh, and there should be a bottle of champagne chilling.
So there is.
So you want us to quit doing our jobs
to help you cockblock Archer?
Well, I... Wait. Was that sarcastic, or...
- No. - Then, yeah, I'd love that.
Really?
Enough to shoot a mule?
I mean, not that I think it'll come to that.
You lost me.
Which I think is the whole point here.
I mean, in all my years of accounting,
I've never seen anything like it.
And I've seen some pretty crazy stuff.
Treating deferred revenue as earned revenue,
lapping, force balancing, uh...
All right, Cyril, I get it.
Yours is a world of mystery and adventure.
But pretend I'm not HAL 9000.
Okay, the best I can tell, basically,
the investors on this movie
will make more money if production shuts down.
From the production insurance?
It's insured for triple what they could hope to make at the box office.
But Crane was going on and on about not wanting to lose the insurance...
Yeah, that's the proverbial rub.
The insurance bond is actually reinsured
by a shell corporation in Florida,
whose policy is reinsured by a shell corporation in Panama,
and so on and so on down the line
until... well, I lost the trail in Liberia.
Pff. The Cousin Oliver of Africa.
But the name of the Florida shell company is...
wait for it... Sandhill-Crane.
So? Some panhandle trash-bird?
Not that kind of crane. Ellis Crane.
I think he's behind this company
and all these so-called "accidents."
Which means he would stand to benefit if production were shut down.
He'd make millions.
Pretty impressive detective work, if I do say so myself.
And apparently I'm the only one who's gonna say it, so...
Oh, get over yourself, Rain Man.
Sandhill-Crane could just be a coincidence.
It's not enough to prove anything.
No, we need to catch Crane in the act somehow.
Maybe if we used someone as bait.
Yeah, I don't know. How would that even...
Where's Gillette?
Yeah, see? When we feather it out like that,
it really frames your face.
And I mean, with your cheekbones...
What the hell are you doing?
Gripping?
All right, Cyril.
So if Crane really is behind all these accidents,
the question is how do we catch him?
Oh, you're asking me. Sorry.
I thought that was rhetorical.
Why would I be asking rhetorical questions?
- Bec... - That one was.
All right, so what's the plan, guys?
How do we stop Archer from hooking up with Veronica?
Umm...
Ooh! We could throw acid in her face.
Wh... Jesus.
What is wrong with you?
What? Then you swoop in and take care of her,
and then slowly, after many years,
she might fall in some weird semblance of love with you.
Yeah, I think maybe we can do better.
Okay, but the perfect is the enemy of the good.
Mm.
Ooh. How about I seduce her?
Yeah, I don't think she's bisexual.
Who cares?
Plus, I bet she'd prefer the acid.
Hey, you know what?
What are you ninnies doing?
- Looking for acid. - No, we're not.
This is no time to be taking your damn drugs, you hippie dropouts.
We think Ellis Crane might be the one who's sabotaging the production.
Holy shit-snacks.
- Who's Ellis Crane? - I knew it.
I mean, I didn't know it. I had no idea whatsoever.
But now that you say it, it makes total sense.
But what makes you think it's Crane?
- Well, I... - Doesn't matter.
Or it won't, once we can catch him red-handed,
which is what we're hatching a plan to do.
Ooh. How about I seduce him?
Pam, I doubt the man is bisexual.
Who care... Wait, what?
And even if he were, he wouldn't want a blob like you.
I mean, when was the last time you even saw your penis?
I...
She knows you're a woman, right?
I thought she did.
Wait. You had sex with her.
Yeah, but she was all tore-up drunk.
Oh, right. Plus I was wearing a stra...
- Eww! - What?
Don't ask. You'll gag.
She certainly did.
Who did what?
Seriously, don't ask.
But let me ask you this.
Do you think there's anything about Archer
that women would find to be a turnoff?
Oh, you're serious.
Well, then, shit. Where to begin? Umm...
And there is a bit of a clock on this, so...
- Why? - Well, he and Veronica
have been in her dressing room for a while now.
Uh-huh.
And since apparently Archer's penis is like a crack pipe...
What, in size and/or shape?
They said if he has sex with Veronica, she'll fall head over heels for him.
Oh, they did, did they?
Yes.
Did you, um...
Mm-hmm.
Hm. Me too.
Yes, I know.
Oh, right.
Sorry about the, uh...
- I think it'll come out. - Phrasing. Still, though.
But as much as I'd love to lie here and bask
in this post-coital glow...
Right? We've got champagne.
We're over the worst of the stickiness.
I know, but it's very nearly 3:00.
Really? That late?
Yes, almost exactly 3:00,
and I'm late for a wardrobe fitting, so...
So I'll just wait for you here, or...
Um, sure.
I'm sorry I have to run,
but it's almost the stroke of 3:00.
Yeah, you mentioned...
Mm, mwah. Back soon.
And I'll be here, slowly drying.
Ahh...
Oh, man, I can't believe
I just made love to Veronica Deane.
I wonder if this is how Tenzing Norgay felt.
Holy shit, I wonder if this is how Tenzing Norgay always feels.
What, sticky?
Gulp.
You know, we could just confront Crane
- with the evidence. - The flimsy evidence.
Yeah, but maybe his reaction would give him away.
Hmm.
All right. So we just barge into his dressing room and...
ambush him!
Because you said we were on a break!
So two days later, your cock's wet?
Oh, I'm sorry, Lana, is there a grace period?
- If there is, you neglected to tell me. - There's an acceptable amount of time
before you start cramming your trash dick...
You never bother to consult me on anything.
And for your information, this stupid break wasn't my idea.
It was yours!
Because you, prolapsed rectum that you are,
are infatuated with Veronica Deane,
whose cobwebby old snooch, by the way, I can smell from here.
Well, it's not cobwebby anymore.
Lana!
So that's your plan.
- Yeah. - In its entirety.
Yep.
We just slam the door open and say...
Don't do it!
He's riddled with clap!
What?
Um...
What?
I, um...
Man, you ever do that...
you walk in a room and you forget why?
- No. - And what are you looking at?
Wow. It is kind of like a crack pipe.
Will you idiots please leave so I can beat this man's ass in private?
Oh, whatever. I was beating your...
Mother! Move, idiots!
- Out of my way. - Follow that ass.
Mother! Mother, are you all right?
Why wouldn't I be?
I... I heard you scream.
That wasn't me. It was this one.
Well, it was very upsetting.
- Whoa. - Oh, my God.
Oh. Yeah, that is pretty upsetting.
And what the hell are you wearing?
I think technically it's a loincloth?
Fashioned out of a baby-doll nightie.
Well, I'm sorry, Mother.
I didn't know I'd be going to a funeral.
I would've worn a black one.
Okay, people, uh, listen up.
This is now an active homicide investigation,
and while the situation on the ground may be somewhat fluid...
Fluid on the ground, on the walls...
You shut up!
Shut your mouth, or I swear to Christ in His heaven
I will personally frame you for this murder!
Hey, bub, remember?
About the thing?
Please disregard my previous statement.
Merely an ill-advised attempt at levity.
Okay. And in light of your various professional,
or, in some cases, personal relationships with the victim,
at the present time, you are all persons of interest.
Hey, hey, hey, hey. Calm down.
He didn't say "suspects". Yet.
But until we do have a suspect...
Or suspects.
We are gonna have to ask you
not to leave town without checking with us.
But that's ridiculous.
It wasn't any of us. He hired us for protection.
What, like a protection racket?
No, you...
We think Crane was caught up
in some sort of insurance fraud,
all the way from here to Liberia.
Okay, okay. And we're gonna be looking into all that,
- but in the meantime... - We've all got alibis.
Then you've got nothing to worry about.
Yeah, because they'll be easy to check.
We've got an exact time of death.
But a time-of-death estimate
is only exact to within maybe one hour, so...
Try one second, gnome-nuts.
The victim had a defensive wound.
Bullet went right through his Rolex.
Exact time of death, 2:14 p.m.
Well, my goodness, what a relief.
No, I just mean...
Well, you know, the ex-wife, a bitter divorce.
I'm sure I would've been the prime suspect.
But I couldn't have murdered Ellis.
I was with you, Archer.
Remember?
Until almost the stroke of 3:00.
Um...
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