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(thunder crashes)
(clears throat)
(both shivering)
MALORY: Woodhouse?
WOODHOUSE: Mum.
MALORY: If I see this glass
empty again, I will be very
unhappy.
WOODHOUSE: Perish the
thought, mum.
MALORY: Now, then.
Who'd like to go first?
(Cyril coughs)
No?
All right, then I will.
Idiots!
(both yelling)
Thank you, dear.
For a moment there, I thought
I was going to be unhappy.
Now, then.
Who's next?
Sync & corrections by honeybunny
www.addic7ed.com
ARCHER: Okay, so, uh...
I guess I'll go if...
MALORY: If I can just stop
you there.
Will you please cover yourself?!
CHERLENE: With what?
I don't have any...
(spraying)
There. Happy?
MALORY: No!
I didn't mean with whipped
cream!
PAM: It's actually whipped
***, so...
(Malory groans)
MALORY: That explains where
some of it went.
CHERLENE: Mmm, and the tingly
numbness of my nipples.
MALORY: And why are you
dressed like the *** the rest
of the trailer park finally
decided they had to stone to
death?
CHERLENE: Duh, we were
shooting my album cover.
KRIEGER: Yes!
Good, yes, that is perfect!
PAM: Perfect for what?
Come on, it's an album cover,
not a... Amish Bible!
PAM: You got to sex that ***
up sexy.
KRIEGER: Um...
CHERLENE: I think it's pretty
sexy.
PAM: You think that's sexy?
With the rocket pops...
outside of you.
CHERLENE: I mean...
KRIEGER: But if she eats
them, we lose the whole red,
white and... okay...
PAM: Yeah, not talking about
eating them.
CHERLENE: Wait, what are
you... You want me to put a
rocket pop in my ***?!
PAM: Well, for starters.
But let's not rule anything out.
You know? Let's kind of see
where that leads.
We've got a shitload of film.
KRIEGER: I'm supposed to have
film in this?
CHERLENE: *** it!
PAM: Krieger!
LANA: So, I have a question.
PAM: The ***, Lana, is
what I was...
LANA: Yeah, I got that.
But do you think the cover for a
country album should be
hardcore...?
What do you even call that?
Food ***?
PAM: I do.
LANA: You think it makes a
good country album cover
or you call it food ***?
PAM: Yes.
LANA: Are you...?
(Cherlene squealing)
CHERLENE: These things are
freezing!
KRIEGER: Film, film, film,
film, film!
LANA: Quit putting rocket
pops in your ***!
CHERLENE: I'm eating them.
Jesus, what is wrong with you?
LANA: I guess I just don't
get art.
PAM: You obviously don't.
And it's not that we don't
appreciate criticism.
It just needs to be
constructive.
ARCHER: Yeah, Lana.
MALORY: Shut up.
And then tell me what happened
to the hundred pounds of...
BOTH: Kilos.
MALORY: Kilos, thank you,
shut up.
Of *** that you took to
Colombia.
LANA: Which...
MALORY: Lana, when I want you
to talk, I will tell you, and
until then, zip it!
LANA: Wha...? What did I do?
MALORY: Nothing!
ARCHER: Yeah, Lana.
MALORY: Which is why these
feckless idiots lost 200 kilos
of ***!
ARCHER: Yeah, La... Oh.
Uh, okay, technically, but then
we stole a plane loaded with,
like, twice as much ***!
MALORY: Is this the part
where you tell me to look under
my seat?
ARCHER: No, unfortunately we
ran into some...
CYRIL: Assholishness.
(all yelling)
RAY: Archer, I swear to God!
I will crash this plane right
into the *** ocean!
ARCHER: I'll take my chances
with the ocean!
The ocean isn't full of
alligators!
And do not even think about it,
Cyril!
CYRIL: Ray, what do I do?!
RAY: Uh...
I guess hang on.
(grunts)
ARCHER and CYRIL: Whoa!
(both grunting)
RAY: Sorry, Cyril.
ARCHER: Ow.
CYRIL: Oh, shut up.
It's your own fault.
ARCHER: Debatable.
CYRIL: No, it's...
ARCHER: Shut up.
Come on, Ray, there has to be
somewhere to land besides the
middle of the damn Everglades.
RAY: Well, not within fuel
range, so...
ARCHER: And who's fault
is that?
RAY: Isaac *** Newton!
You see that airstrip?
The one that's circled?
That's the only one in range,
and we've only, barely, got
enough fuel to make it there,
so...
ARCHER: But Miami's, like,
right over here.
CYRIL: We can't land at a
real airport!
Even if Ray had filed a flight
plan...
ARCHER: Why didn't you file
a flight plan?!
That's like Airplane Stuff 101.
CYRIL: Not when the airplane
is stolen and crammed full of
guns and ***!
ARCHER: Ah.
I will concede that point.
RAY: Damn it.
ARCHER: What's up?
CYRIL: What's going on?
RAY: Burning too much
fuel-- we're heavy.
CYRIL: What do you mean,
heavy?
ARCHER: You said we had
enough fuel to...
RAY: I said barely!
I bet the Colombians didn't
count on three passengers.
CYRIL (sobbing): Oh, my God,
we're gonna crash!
ARCHER: Cyril, do not panic.
Just get out.
CYRIL: What?!
ARCHER: Do the right thing,
Cyril.
You have nothing to live for.
CYRIL: Get your hands off me.
ARCHER: Okay, relax. Jesus.
Whatever happened to Team
Archer?
CYRIL: Please tell me that
was never a real thing to you.
ARCHER: Eh... I mean...
RAY: Hello?
Time's a bit of a factor here!
ARCHER: Cyril, for the love
of God, man, jump!
CYRIL: Just throw out the
***.
ARCHER: What?! No!
I'm not telling Mother I lost
the original hundred pounds
of...
CYRIL and RAY: Kilos!
ARCHER: ...whatever unit of
measurement-- of ***!
Plus, all this ***!
Do you have any idea how mad
she'd be?
RAY: Well, the
alternative is a belly-landing
in a swamp filled with
alligators!
ARCHER: No. No, no, no. No.
What if, um...
CYRIL: Archer!
Alligators or your mother!
ARCHER: What's the
difference?
They're both cold-blooded
prehistoric monsters.
(Malory clears throat loudly)
MALORY: Excuse me?
ARCHER: I meant the pain of
disappointing you would...
bite... alligator... ish...
ly.
MALORY: Uh-huh.
ARCHER: Anyway, right about
then...
RAY: Okay, I can see the
airstrip.
CYRIL: Well, can we make it?
RAY: Maybe, if you...
ARCHER: Wait! Ray, you said
the Colombians were flying to
this airstrip?
RAY: Yes!
Why do you think it's marked on
the chart, you idiot?
ARCHER: Okay, well, let's
circle back to who's an idiot,
and talk about who's probably
waiting at this airstrip.
(Cyril gasps)
RAY: Dukes.
ARCHER: And what their
reaction will be to three total
strangers showing up in their
plane without their coke.
CYRIL: They'll kill us!
RAY: Well... maybe not.
ARCHER: Wait, why?
CYRIL: Why maybe not?
(sputtering)
(Archer and Cyril shout)
RAY: Because that.
(sputtering)
(Archer and Cyril shout)
And that.
Happy?
ARCHER: What, like, in
general or...?
MALORY: Ooh, this is
exciting.
I hope everyone dies.
ARCHER: Uh, we obviously d...
Oh. Hardy har, Mother.
(slurps)
MALORY: And so our heroes,
such as they are, have run out
of fuel and... what.
RAY: No, no, no!
What are you doing?!
CYRIL: Throwing out the guns!
RAY: No, no, no, no, no!
You're screwing the trim all to
hell!
ARCHER (chuckles): This
no-phrasing thing is killing me.
RAY: Best case, our
glide ratio's maybe ten-to-one.
But it's a lot less with the
damn door hanging...
Oh, no, no, no!
(automatic gunfire)
CYRIL: Yeah!
ARCHER: Woooooo!!
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
(Archer and Cyril grunt)
RAY: You idiots!
CYRIL: What did I do?
ARCHER: Don't. There's no
talking to when he gets like
this.
RAY: Dump the damn guns!
CYRIL: Uh, I am, if you'd
shut up!
ARCHER: Wait, wait, wait,
wait, Cyril!
CYRIL: What? Archer!
RAY: We're coming in!
Brace for landing!
ARCHER: Tell you in a minute.
RAY: Gear down!
(Cyril moans)
RAY (strained): We're not
gonna make it.
(Cyril whimpers)
ARCHER: Exciting, isn't it?
(Cyril yelping)
(Archer chuckling)
ARCHER: Oh, so, Cyril...
what I was gonna say was...
maybe don't throw out all the
guns because you know what they
say...
it's better to have a gun and
not need it than to be the
world's biggest ***, and
inside your head there's a
million more dicks, like, uh, if
you cut open a golf ball, only
instead of those little rubber
bands in there, it's just, you
know...
CYRIL: Dicks?
ARCHER: Oh, so you have heard
that.
MALORY: And so Gillette lands
safely-- I'm sure there's a joke
in there about fairy dust-- and
then what happens?
CYRIL (chuckles): Yeah, tell
her what happens next.
ARCHER: I will if you shut
your... mouth.
(quietly): Okay, listen up.
Say what you will about my
skills as a drug kingpin...
RAY: You don't have any.
CYRIL: Completely
nonexistent.
ARCHER: Are you done?
RAY and CYRIL: Yes.
ARCHER: Good, because if
there's one thing I'm good at,
out of the million other things
I'm good at, it's infiltrating
the enemy with an assumed
identity.
RAY: Named Randy.
ARCHER: Named shut up, it's
not always Randy.
GILLETTE (chuckling): Oh, my
God.
CYRIL: Always.
(others agreeing)
ARCHER: That's because
Randy's awesome!
And I'm the best in the world at
this, so shut up and follow my
lead.
Hey, guy... (grunts)
(Ray and Cyril squeak)
SLATER: Anybody else in
there?
RAY and CYRIL: No.
(others reacting in shock)
MALORY: Sterling, how are you
not dead?
ARCHER (sighs): Because I
didn't get shot with buckshot.
I got beanbagged.
(Pam growls)
Beanbagged, Pam.
(others gasp, groan)
MALORY: Oh, my God.
ARCHER: Yeah, I could've
died.
CYRIL (scoffs): It was a
beanbag.
ARCHER: Medical fact, Cyril.
If you get hit in the chest
between heartbeats, you can die.
Go ask Houdini.
PAM (chuckling): Ask him
what, how to get AIDS?
MALORY (sighs): So who were
these goons?
ARCHER: They were... They
kind of looked ex-military, now
that you mention it.
MALORY: American.
ARCHER: Yeah, and the
leader's name was...
SLATER: Slater.
Just call me Slater.
And sorry about the beanbag.
Man, that must kill.
ARCHER: Yeah. Yeah, you hear
beanbag," you think Beanie
Baby, not... internal bleeding.
SLATER: Well, the door was
shot off, and we didn't know who
you were.
Still don't, I guess, formally,
uh...
ARCHER: Uh, Rand... o.
SLATER: Rando.
ARCHER: Yep.
SLATER: Rando...?
ARCHER: Uh, no, that's it.
It's a mononym, like Cher.
CYRIL: Pliny.
RAY: Cantinflas!
SLATER: I know what "mononym"
means.
What I don't know is who you
people are.
ARCHER: Uh, I'm Rando-- I
think we covered that fairly
well-- and these are the, uh,
McCracken brothers, Phil and
Odie.
CYRIL: Hello.
RAY: Odie, hush.
SLATER: So why do you guys
have my ***?
ARCHER: We...
SLATER: I'm not done.
ARCHER: Sorry.
SLATER: What have you done
with Gomez...
What, you're just not gonna
answer?
ARCHER: Oh! S-Sorry.
You kind of trailed off like
there was, like, a third...
SLATER: Why do you have my
*** and where the hell is
Gomez, full *** stop!
ARCHER: Gomez was gonna steal
it.
SLATER: Says who?
ARCHER (chuckles): "Who."
Nice.
Anyway, they called us in, uh,
to address that, which we did
and now we're here and...
Full stop?
TOUGH GUY: Okay, this is the
last of it.
The weight's good.
We tested ten of the bricks.
Looks like it's all here.
SLATER: Well, either you guys
are the shittiest coke thieves
on the planet...
CYRIL (chuckles): Which we
are not.
(chuckles) You know, I mean, if
that was... I mean, if we put
our minds to it.
Look, here's the thing about the
McCracken brothers...
ARCHER: Odie, hush!
Uh, you were saying?
SLATER: Hey, between you and
me, I thought Gomez was hinky
from the get-go and, since the
coke's all here, let's get you
fellas loaded.
ARCHER: Yeah, now you're
talking.
About something else entirely.
Apparently.
SLATER (chuckles): What, did
you nerf-nuts think I was
talking about getting drunk?
ARCHER: Uh, yeah, on money.
SLATER (laughing): Oh, man,
classic Rando.
And don't worry, Calderon's good
for the money.
At least for now.
Am I right, fellas?
ARCHER: Are you?
SLATER (laughs): Classic
Rando.
ARCHER (chuckles): Yeah,
Rando's awesome.
SLATER: So, obviously you're
not gonna be able to pressurize
this baby, so, uh...
RAY: I'll keep it under
8,000.
SLATER: Still gonna freeze
your *** off.
Good thing you're flying south,
huh?
ARCHER: Mmm... yep.
SLATER: You do know where
you're going, right?
ARCHER: I absolutely know
where we're going.
CYRIL: Yeah, back home to
ask Mommy what to do.
ARCHER: Hey, shut up!
CYRIL: You shut up!
ARCHER: Ow. (grunts)
Ma, they done killed old Rando.
LANA: So, you leave here with
a bunch of the first load of
***, which just mysteriously
appeared at ISIS and that Malory
swears wasn't hers...
MALORY: Because it most
certainly was not!
CYRIL: Wait, then where did it come from?
MALORY: Obviously from Sterling.
ARCHER: Obviously from Mother.
MALORY and ARCHER: No, not from me!
Well, I certainly...
(high-pitched whistle)
(others groaning)
LANA: Sorry to break that up.
I love Freaky Friday as much as
the next gal, but let's just
press on, operating under the
assumption that one, or more
likely both, of you are lying
and that...
MALORY and ARCHER: Lana, I swear...
LANA (whistles): Pressing on.
So then you stumble into another
bunch of *** in the jungle
and then continue stumbling into
a beanbagging arms dealer, so
that now, almost inexplicably,
we have enough weapons to invade
Quebec.
KRIEGER: Wait, literally?
LANA: No, Krieger, not
literally.
PAM: Aww.
CHERLENE: Lame.
KRIEGER: Well, if we ever do,
the best time to invade is
right after brunch, when
they're all logy.
LANA: Archer?
ARCHER: I don't know.
I mean, it couldn't hurt, but...
LANA: Still talking about
this.
Not invading Quebec.
ARCHER: Oh, yeah, then they
loaded the plane with the
weapons, said we were heading
south and that Calderon would
pay us.
LANA: Calderon?
(gasps) As in Gustavo Calderon?
ARCHER (burps): Should I know
who that is?
CYRIL: How could you not?
ARCHER: I don't know, Cyril.
Maybe I was busy saving your
life once, and then you shot me.
MALORY: Gustavo Calderon, aka
Baby Gus, is the president of
San Marcos.
(Archer burps)
ARCHER: Should I know...
MALORY: Oh for God's sake,
Sterling, it's a country in
Central America.
ARCHER: Mm, not according to
this.
LANA: Because that thing's a
hundred years old.
It still says "German East
Africa."
KRIEGER: We will never
recognize Tanganyika!
LANA: Well, it's Tanzania
now, so...
PAM: Aww.
CHERLENE: Lame.
KRIEGER: Well, whatever, as
long as they don't nationalize
the ivory trade.
I don't think my portfolio can
take the hit.
LANA: Trust me, San Marcos is
a country.
MALORY: And it's in the
middle of a civil war.
Communist rebels are tearing
through the countryside like...
like...
PAM: Cows.
Bees.
Hang on.
Bees.
MALORY (sighs): How do you
not know about San Marcos?
It's all over the news every
night.
ANCHORMAN: from San Marcos
tonight, as the Communist rebel
forces consolidate their gains
in the countryside, and now
prepare to move on the capital.
We spoke with President Gustavo
Calderon, seen here volunteering
at the hospital, comforting the
wounded.
CALDERON: Oh, hello, I did
not see you there.
I was comforting this brave
young man here, the fruit of San
Marcos, wounded by a Communist
sneeper.
I think he has died.
Yes.
But let me say this, to the
Communists who are murdering
our brave young fruits, and to
the puppet masters in Moscow and
the capital of China, you
cannot kill the spirit of
San Mar...
PAM: Aww.
CHERLENE: Lame.
As in who cares.
MALORY: The United States.
Apparently Calderon is barely
clinging to power.
ARCHER: Huh.
You think this is somehow
related?
(chuckles)
I'm kidding, obviously.
RAY: Are you?
PAM: Yeah, right.
LANA: I don't think you are.
ARCHER: Yes, I'm kidding.
Because you want to know what I
really think is going on here?
CHERLENE: You're all jealous!
My album's coming out, and it's
gonna be huge, and you're all
jealous, and so you just want
to ruin it for me.
MALORY: Why would I want to
ruin your album?
I get 50% of the profits.
LANA: Archer?
ARCHER: I don't know, maybe
a little jealous.
It's an exciting time for her.
LANA: This.
Still talking about this.
ARCHER: Oh, right, right,
right.
So what I think is...
MALORY: I think you've
managed to stumble backwards
into a CIA-backed,
anti-Communist,
drugs-for-arms operation.
ARCHER: Wow, that actually
makes more sense.
LANA: Than...?
ARCHER: No, no, let's just go
with her thing.
CYRIL: Which, if it's true,
is...
MALORY: Wonderful.
CYRIL: I was going to say
terrible.
MALORY: Because you are a
timid man, Cyril.
CYRIL: What? No, I'm not.
PAM (laughing): Dude, your
balls are made of ***.
(Archer laughs)
ARCHER: Aah! Ow. Oh.
All kidding aside, I maybe
should go to a hospital.
MALORY: Cyril, this is an
opportunity to finally make
some money.
Even if we had a buyer for the
***, do we even still have
half of it left?
KRIEGER: Eh...
MALORY: What?
KRIEGER: It's, um, you know,
not... It's...
MALORY: Krieger!
KRIEGER: Mm?
MALORY: Tell me what's going
on or I will literally
emasculate you.
KRIEGER: Well, no, if you
literally emas... (coughs)
Okay, so, for a few weeks, I've
been working on a bit of a side
project.
I give you...
the Red Kriegtober.
LANA: Um...
KRIEGER: Or the Red
OctKrieger.
I can't decide.
It's a narco-sub.
For transporting ***.
It's totally undetectable by
the Coast Guard.
Thoughts?
LANA: How you gonna get it
out of here?
KRIEGER: Hm?
LANA: How does that thing
leave this room?
KRIEGER: *** it!
MALORY: Oh, for the...
How much money did you waste on
that little boondoggle?
KRIEGER: Well, it's not that
so much as...
MALORY: Krieger?
KRIEGER: Well, I needed
ballast, and what better to
simulate bricks of *** than,
you know, bricks of ***?
MALORY: Krieger...
KRIEGER: And when I realized
it would never feel the wind on
its face, or taste the salty
spray of the sea, I... I...
(explosions)
MALORY: You what?
KRIEGER: I blew it up!
*** you all to hell, I blew
it up!
(all exclaiming)
CHERLENE: I'm not cleaning it
up.
PAM: You mean it's all gone?
KRIEGER: I... (sniffles)
No, no, not all of it.
(Pam sobbing)
PAM: Why?
KRIEGER: Shh, shh, shh, shh,
shh, shh, shh.
There, there.
MALORY: Woodhouse, dear, I
need some more ice.
WOODHOUSE: Straightaway, mum.
MALORY: Oh, and a small bowl,
a mirror, a needle and thread,
and a straight razor.
CYRIL: Whoa.
RAY: Just calm down.
ARCHER: Whoa, whoa...
LANA: You're not emasculating
Krieger.
KRIEGER: What the hell was
the mirror for?
MALORY: So you could watch.
(thunder rumbles)
(Krieger squeaks)
(Malory sighs)
MALORY: The perfect ending
to the perfect...
(laughs)
I almost said "evening."
More like months, though,
isn't it?
Since we started scrabbling for
coins because the damn
government took away our...
everything.
They took everything.
And the only thing that was
left, you idiots either lost,
gave away, ate or just blew up
and sank.
ARCHER: Yeah, Krieger.
LANA: Archer.
MALORY: And so, starting now,
in addition to the country
music business, which...
CHERLENE: Right?
MALORY: We are in the arms
business.
KRIEGER: There's still a
little *** left.
LANA: Krieger.
ARCHER: Yeah, Krieger.
LANA: And do we want to talk
about this or...
MALORY: You're welcome to.
I, personally, am going to bed.
It's been a long night.
ARCHER: Oh, yeah, wh-why are
you all dressed up?
MALORY: Well, not that it's
any of anyone's business, but I
had dinner with Ron.
ARCHER: What?
CHERLENE: Ooh.
CYRIL: Sounds delightful.
ARCHER: Wait-- you're still
getting divorced, right?
MALORY: No.
We have decided to give it
another chance, and so we will
be going to marriage counseling
and... (mumbles)
ARCHER: Wait, what?
PAM: Huh?
CYRIL: Marriage counseling
and what?
ARCHER: I didn't catch that.
MALORY: Oh, for...
We've decided to have an open
marriage.
CYRIL: Okay.
PAM: Nice.
KRIEGER: Gross.
CHERLENE: Oh, my God.
MALORY: Well, it was either
that or...
(phone rings)
CHERLENE (gasps): Oh, my God.
It's Ron.
Hello...
(all gasping)
ARCHER: Oh, no!
MALORY: And so...
ARCHER: Jesus.
Hope he doesn't call me.
Why would he call you?
(phone ringing)
(clears throat)
Sync & corrections by honeybunny
www.addic7ed.com