08x05 - Archer Dreamland: Sleepers Wake

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Archer". Aired: September 17, 2009 –; present.*
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Series follows the exploits of a dysfunctional intelligence agency, centered on Sterling Archer and seven of his colleagues.
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08x05 - Archer Dreamland: Sleepers Wake

Post by bunniefuu »

Announcer: Fargo.

All new wednesdays at 10:00.

On fx.

Woman: Son of a bitch!

Woman:
Fxx presents Archer.

So, uh, what are we doing?

Are we just
jumping right into this,

or what's the deal?

Alrighty!
And how's our patient?

And, follow up,
where is our patient?

Meaning?

Okay, you know what?

You're about as helpful
as tits on a--

You!

Look what you've done to me!

Yeah, right?
I'm a monster!

You're a miracle!
You didn't even have feet!

Now look at you,
walking around on new legs,

with hands
that can crush steel--

And, I mean, don't try it
right now, obviously, but--

Look at me!

I'm a g*dd*mn freak!

And I don't know
who I'm gonna k*ll first,

you or that
son of a bitch len trexler.

Well, first of all,
it's "whom."

Uh, no, it isn't.

It absolutely is.
Doesn't matter.

But if it'll
help you decide,

this serum, which is sort of
the key to the whole deal,

I call factor-k.

And?
And your body will
reject its new components,

and you will die in agony,

unless you get
an injection of it.

Wha-- well,
give it here, shitbeard.

Uhh! g*dd*mn it.

Ow. Okay,
that kind of hurt,

and I'm already
in a pretty bad mood,

so I'm gonna
k*ll you first.

So, any last words?

Every 12 hours.

Cryptic. Nice.

Usually people just
blubber and beg,

and those big gloobs of snot
run outta their nose, but you--

if you don't get a sh*t
of factor-k every 12 hours,

you will die.

Bullshit.
Which-- and that's
fair, but--

let me guess.

You're only gonna make enough
for one injection at a time.

Well, I am now.

g*dd*mn it!
Yeah, so, like
an insurance policy.

How long does it take you
to make it?
I don't know. An hour?

Well, then, I guess I'll
wake you up in about 11 hours.

Wake me--

What the-- are you...

Dreamland... has a whole g*dd*mn

n*zi robot farm
in the basement.

In this economy!

Figgis:
Hello?

Hello! Son of a--

hang on.

What the--
oh, for the love of cocks!

I mean, seriously, just...

g*dd*mn it.

hello!
Can anybody hear me?

Man, that thing
is outta control.

Hello! Hello!

Somebody! Hey!

What the--
no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Help! My pubes!

My g*dd*mn pubes
are on fire!

All right.
I guess let him out.

Now that second lunch
is ruined.

Aw, man!
Some of it got in my mouth.

How long was I in there?

How should I know?

Usually dead people don't just
climb out of these drawers

with their big bushy
birds on fire,

so for all I know,
you're that zombie

that got walked with!
That what?

In the movie
I walked with a zombie.
The zombie titular.

I'm not a g*dd*mn--

I am lieutenant cyril figgis,
LAPD, you sentient sh*t-sacks!

I showed you my shield!
And if you'd show
it to me again--

I don't--
whoever hit me took it.

g*dd*mn it!
And my service w*apon!

And yet they left you
your lighter.

Wait. When I got p*stol-whipped,
i was talking to an English guy.

We don't have
an English guy.

I-- you have to remember me!

Uh, actually, I don't.
And also, I don't, so--

oh, you think you're
pretty smart, huh?
I mean, smart enough to know

you cut a finger
off one of my cadavers--
which, ew.

And also gross abuse of a
corpse, which is punishable by--

I know all about
gross abuse of a corpse!

Yeah, that's kind of
my whole point.

As the lord our god himself
is my witness,

upon the conclusion
of my current business,

I shall return to this place

and visit upon you an apocalypse
of such terror and destruction

that you will rue-- rue the very
fact of your miserable birth!

I'll be here.

I actually won't.
Well, unless it's before Friday.

Oh, yeah, that's right.
What's it you're leaving to do?

Lumber inspector.
Huh. Didn't know
that was a thing.

That's because
you have no vision.

This, Danny--
This is your world.

Yeah.

Please, figgis, for your sake,
tell me you're joking.

It's just a temporary setback,

but I am going to fix this,
trust me.

That's the whole point.
I don't trust you.

I wouldn't trust you
to fix potato Salad!

You're probably
one of those assholes

who puts relish in it!

I mean, first my whores,
and now Charlotte vandertunt?

How many women
can one man lose?

Oh, plus your wife.
Would you--

oh! Mr. trexler,

I swear to god that I will
get you your million dollars.

You know, you say that
with the confidence of a man

who has a lot longer to live.

I--

How'd that go?

How do you think it went?

Not great.
Ya think?

Yes.

Because while I was
getting p*stol-whipped

and shoved in a drawer
at the morgue--

losing precious time, not to
mention my g*n and my shield--

you were supposed to find
Charlotte vandertunt.

And, so, how did that go?

Also not great.
But more importantly--

because we know Archer
broke her out of jail,

and we know he's working
for mother, so--

son of a bitch!

I bet she's gonna try
to ransom Charlotte!

Wait. Shut up.
"More importantly" what?

What is that smell?
What is what smell?

That. Smells like cuy.

What the hell is cuy?
Roasted Guinea pig.

Huh?
They blowtorch the hair
right off of it.

It's like the national dish
of Peru.
Did--

or is it Ecuador?
Did you--

which one's the native habitat
of the spectacled bear?

Did--
wait. sh*t.
They both are.

Hang on.
Uh, hey, let me see
your service w*apon.

Huh? Yeah. Here.

Now, Peru has
the pisco sour, but--

did you find
Charlotte vandertunt?

Tell me before, so help me god,

I put a b*llet in your
big fat stupid face!

First of all,
that's just hurtful.

And second of all,

it doesn't matter where she is,
just where the ransom money is.

Hmm. Presumably
with the vandertunts.

So all we gotta do is--

insinuate ourselves
into this whole deal,

like we're there to help,

and steal the ransom
during the exchange.

Yeah. It's a piece of piss.

Now, aren't you glad
you didn't sh**t me?

For now.

Although I'm sure
at some point

I'll regret that
decision, so--

why is there blood
on the barrel?

What? No.
That's, um, hot sauce.

Well, why is there
hot sauce on it?

With a couple of hairs
stuck in it.

Oh, sweet Christ.
What?

Did you b*at a Guinea
pig to death

with your service w*apon,

slather the thing
in hot sauce and eat it?

Yep!

Well, I officially regret
my decision.

Man, I almost always do.

Hey! Who keeps leaving
the g*dd*mn seat down?

Looking your way, huizhong.

Poovey:
So, how are we gonna play this
with the vandertunts?

We're gonna play it that
you keep your fat mouth shut--

again, hurtful.
...While I explain to them

that the cavalry
is finally here.

Yes, it's right here,
as per your demand--

a million dollars
in unmarked, untraceable

20, 50,
and 100-dollar bills.

Okay. Good. Good. That's--

sheer idiocy on your part,
frankly.

I'm sorry?
As well you should be.

What do you--
i mean, including the bag,

which, by the way,
was a gift,

the whole thing must weigh
a good 50 pounds.

Well, too bad. I--
i mean, an envelope

with a hundred sammies
would've been so much easier.

A hundred what?
Sammies.

After salmon p. Chase,

the man on the $10,000 bill?

Well, what the hell
am I supposed to do

with a $10,000 bill?

Well, what does one do
with a twenty-dollar bill?

Buy a single orange?
That's--

just make sure the money's
at the drop by midnight,

and that you follow
my instructions to the letter.

Mmm, like a reverse
scavenger hunt.

And once we have the money,

we'll arrange for the return
of your sister.

Oh, right. Yes. Sorry.
I forgot that part.

And that's a firm firm?
Yes.

And no cops,
at all, anywhere.

No police.
Also a firm firm?

Yes, it's a firm firm!
Wait. Why?

What? I-- I don't know.
No reason.

I'm sorry.
This is my first kidnapping.

Well--
Or is it?

Jesus Christ.

Ciao!
Alrighty, then.

Who's for cuy?

Yes,

that's probably why
you smell burnt hair.

But don't judge them
by their looks.

They may seem appalling...

But trust me,
they're quite delicious.

Yes, delicious.

Like all taboos.

You're frickin' weird.

I mean, just weird.
Lana:
What is?

Lana! Uh, I mean, miss Kane.

I-- I mean, uh--
"Lana" is fine.

I'll say.
You'll say what?

Nothing.
Ah. A man of mystery.

Well, you know,
mainly in the sense

that I try to solve them,
you know--

on your own.
Well, yeah.

I mean,
since my partner d*ed.

Which I actually
should really--
i meant without the police.

Without the who now?

"No cops,
at all, anywhere,"

I believe were
your exact words.

My exac--
were you eavesdropping on me?

Yes.

Did you have a follow-up
to that, or--

no, actually,
because you caught me

totally off guard
by not denying it.

But how much of that
did you hear?

Depends.
What's your angle, shamus?

Well, uh, probably
about 30 degrees.

Gillette:
Diminishing returns, cliff!

But I'm not working
any angle, so--

so, then, you wouldn't
need any help?

No, i--
why are you so interested?
No reason.

Just thought maybe you could
make it worth my while.

Well, i-- I can't, so--

what if I made it
worth your while?

Umm...

No.

No what? Wait. What?

What? At the club,
i said, "umm,"

and then I was gonna say, "no,"

but then you didn't
let me finish.

Oh, you finished, all right.
Yeah. Maybe try woolite?

Which, by the way,
makes one of us!

Oh, please!
Wait. Seriously?
Get out.

'Cause I'd be happy to,
you know--

get--
...St-stay and watch you finish.

...out!
Jesus!

Look, if you-- ehh!

Great.

Now I have no liquor.

Just a big fat pair
of blue lady-balls.

Torrent downloaded from RARBG

That's my mouth!

- Get outta here!
- Oh!

If I wanted your
assh*le on my mouth,

I'd do it while
you were asleep!

Which we've never
talked about, but-- ow!

My face!
How long was I out?

Oh, that helps.

Man, I gotta warn trexler
Dutch wants to k*ll him.

Mainly because trexler
hasn't paid me for my work yet,

but also because--

say what you will about
der robotik ubermenschen.

Sure can punch good.

I'm sorry, darlin',

but you're gonna
have to repeat that.

I said,

"i had a little towel,

"but I lost it walking here,

so I need your clothes,
your boots,

and your motorcycle."

Oh, is that all?

Yeah.
That oughta do it.

You, uh, sure you don't need me
to, uh, check your oil?

Oh, okay.
And by that remark,

I assume you're referring
either to my robotic limbs

or offering to plunge
your finger,

and/or penis,
into my anus.

Ohhh!
I'll plunge my fist into your--

Were you gonna say "anus"?

'Cause a finger's one thing.

But a whole fist?
Aaahhh!

That's like...

I just never
understood that.

And I'm not trying to judge.

But it's like, at some point,
you gotta question your choices.

Whoo!

- I don't know.
- If it's two consenting adults,

I'm like,
"live and let live."

But if you want me
to let you live, chief,

I'm gonna need those keys.

Here.
Take 'em!

Hey, thanks.

Oh, and if turns out
you lose that arm,

just give me a call.

I got a guy.

He what?

Uh, is going to k*ll you.
Was I not--

what are you talking about?

Why?
Stop it!

What, I should be calm
when you tell me

a g*dd*mn robot
wants to k*ll me?

No, not you.
Wha-- wha-- then who?

No. Sorry. You.
He wants to k*ll you.

The good news is,
without my help,

he'll be dead in...
Ten hours.

Okay, well,
my house is a fortress.

I got a ton of guys.
We'll outlast him.

Yeah. You say that...

Feels pretty good, huh, Dutch?

Yes, it does, other Dutch.
Yes, it does.

g*dd*mn it.

Mother:
I think you're confused, doll.

Charlotte:
I am not in the least confused!

I don't care if my family
does pay the ransom.

I'm not going back there!

I meant you were confused
about me caring

what you did after the payoff.

You're not planning
to blindfold me

and hide me in
a b*mb shelter

with limited oxygen
and send my family cryptic notes

about how to find me in a race
against time for my life?

Who are you, collective
pseudonym Carolyn keene?

What?
Who would go
to all that trouble?

Johann schmidt,
aka the red skull,

in my n*zi
kidnap-slash-r*pe fantasy.

Ew!

Right?
Shut up.

Look, tonight your brother
is going to drop

the ransom money
at the Griffith observatory.

Archer is going to retrieve it
and bring it to me.

And if nobody screws up,

once I have the money,
you're free to go.

Well, but that's my whole point.

Go where?

Who knows?
Maybe a handsome

young n*zi scientist
will take you in.

Do what now?
What the hell are you doing?

Just filling
the coolers with ice.

You know,
normal bartendery stuff.

Oh, so suddenly
you work here again?
I--

what happened
to your face?
I--

did someone
catch you snooping?

Uh, no, I walked into a door...
Repeatedly.

Oh, yeah.
My mother used to do that.

Well, you better not have been
snooping on me, mister.

Are you-- pfft! Come on!
I wouldn't do that!

So, Archer's the bagman
for a kidnapping, huh?

Okay, then.

Because you know
what happens to snoops.

They get... poops?
What?

Cecil:
It's just that the kidnappers

were extremely clear
on that point.

No police, at all, anywhere.

Well, of course they're gonna
say that, but trust me--

I trust him.
He brought me a finger.

Only you.
What?

All I had today was some cuy.

Oh, and congee.

Oh, and a bunch
of salted duck eggs.

Look, we'll be right behind you,

so just follow
their instructions,

drop the ransom off,
and with a bit of luck,

we'll get it and the kidnappers.

Okay, but I have
a bad feeling about this.

Well, I don't care.

Hmm. Fair enough.

Do you wanna go?

Archer:
I thought I made it pretty clear
to the little weirdo

that I didn't wanna see any cops
near the drop.

I guess you can't
blame the guy for trying.

Plus, it's not like I can't
handle figgis and poovey.

But I may have to
wait them out.

Whatever.
You paid for an hour.

Well, that's my whole point.

It may take a lot longer
than an hour--

well--
and I'm not paying you
any extra.

What?
But feel free to hike
the five miles

back to sunset
in those heels.

What the hell?
Who brings a hooker?

- Cecil : Okay.
- Here's the topiary garden.

Which I wish I could buy it so
i could burn it to the ground.

Topiary.
My god, what rubbish.

Shrubbish!

So freakin' weird.
Cecil:
Hmm.

Well, I suppose
that looks like a mushroom.

What? It's clearly
a mushroom.

Well, then...

All right, then. I'm off.

Alone, as I arrived,
with no police anywhere!

I mean...

Seriously.

Okay, Archer.
It's your move.

Damn it.
I gotta at least tip her.

This is definitely gonna take
longer than an hour.

Man, I wish I had a--

smoke grenade?
What the sh*t?

Poovey:
g*dd*mn it!

Figgis:
Will you come on?

No, no, no, no, no, no!

God...Damn it!

I guess it's not his move.

Jesus!

Sorry. Here. Take these.

What the hell are these for?

Um, I guess, parting gifts?

What?
I don't know. Maybe you can
sell 'em or whatever.

Because, listen, this car chase
is gonna get a little crazy--

well, then, let me out!
Stop the car!

Let me finish!
Because my point is,

I don't really
have time to stop.

But I'm not gonna have that,

so I'm gonna need you
to kind of jump out.

Are you nuts?
I'll slow down a little,
obviously,

but when you
hit the ground,

You're gonna wanna
kind of roll.

Yeah, just like that!
Good instincts!

assh*le!

Seriously!

Figgis:
They're gaining on us!
Step on it!

Trust me,
it's totally stepped on!

Oh, son of a...

Oh, sh*t.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no!

g*dd*mn it.

Did ya get 'em?

No. I got somebody, though.

Wow. Good policin'.

Shut up.

Son of a...

No, no, no, no, no, no!

Oh, g*dd*mn it.

So...

How was your evening?

Uh, not g-great.

And I assume
about to get worse.

man:
Made in Georgia.

Captioned by
media access group at wgbh

man: Dateline,
Los Angeles, California, 1947.

Forecast: It's going to rain...

Lead!

So you're just--
Straight-up crazy.

Archer: Dreamland.
All new wednesdays at 10:00.

On fxx.

It's gonna take an hour
at this time.

Wow, look at Stan's yard.

Someone's been busy.

Clearly not in ours.
Maybe Henry can do
some work today.

Yeah.

I forget your back
is always bad
this time of year.

Only when
there are leaves--

when did you
wash this last?

The Americans.

All new Tuesdays at 10:00.
On fx.

Announcer:
Fargo. All-new wednesdays
at 10:00 on fx.

Man: I'm getting paid to learn
how to run a business,

do things when I want
and how I want,

get paid more
than some office job.

I got freedom.

Freedom from all of it.
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