12x03 - London Time

[bunniefuu]

[cork pops]

[laughs]

Another win for

the greatest spy on Earth.

- Lana? Win toast?

- It's nine o'clock in the morning.

Yeah, and champagne is, like,

the breakfast of alcohols.

Congratulations, team.

Your success has given

your company great buzz.

- "Roomful of bees" buzz.

- Bees with buzz cuts.

- Swarming Buzz Aldrin.

- That's a lot of buzz.

And Robert's sizable donation

to the environmental fund

didn't hurt.

Arguably, it did most of the work.

That's a heavy check

doing some heavy lifting.

- But still.

- BOTH: Great buzz.

I notice you say "buzz,"

but we hired you for "job offers."

Don't worry, you are top

of mind for many stakeholders.

- You just need a splashy success.

- Not that this wasn't a success.

But it was a normal success.

- And now we get splashy.

- Cannonball!

I'm sorry, saving an entire plane

from hijackers isn't splashy?

Buzz is also saying

that was like 80

- Uh, 85.

- Percent an accident.

That last 15% was all me.

Uh, sorry

all me with an assist

from my supporting cast.

- Ugh.

- Anyway, keep up the good work!

And remember:

leap without a net.

Alton, where's your parachute?

Oh, boy.

If my head wasn't attached

[laughs]

- Useless.

- [laughs] Speak of the devil.

Guys, I found something amazing.

I was re-organizing

our old filing system

and discovered

we have an open contract.

Something about ongoing service

for "high sensitivity battery

replacement" in London.

Oh, goodness. I haven't

thought about that in years.

- So, you gonna

- Shh, shh, shh, I'm remembering.

[sly music]

# #

[engine turns over, revs]

[tires screech]

- We talking beefcake?

- This is a closed meeting.

Duh-doy. Why do you think

we wanted in here so bad?

Now give me dem deets.

Fine.

The man is Cornelius Varma,

great grandnephew of the

Indian Maharani of Travancore.

He had the physique

of a tawny Adonis,

- and the nimblest fingers you've ever

- Okay, Mother. We get it.

I'm referring to the way

he placed bugs.

Jesus, I don't need to know

what you call it.

Wait, why were you

bugging the British?

- It was a different time.

- 1812?

- Cyril, you were saying?

- Well, according to the case file,

if the batteries are replaced,

the bug will release a code.

If we transmit the code

to the account

where the money is held

- Dolla dolla bills, y'all?

- Bingo.

Not flying to England to

change a battery for 20 bucks.

- It's pounds, Lana.

- You know what I meant.

And I know

how to finish my insults.

Jeezy Petes. I just checked

the battery bank account.

With interest, it's currently

holding over a million dollars.

- ALL: What?

- Oh, that's cute.

I think for this,

you're going to need an assist

from someone

who knows the territory.

Someone who, if need be,

can call on an important ally

in a pinch.

And who's that, he said,

dread creeping into his voice?

[instrumental of "God Save the Queen"]

- Was the cat suit really necessary?

- For me? No.

It's more for the public.

- Oh!

- Ugh, still got it.

Thank you, Sterling.

And by it, I mean this image,

b*rned into my retinas

till the end of time.

Lucky boy.

[main title theme]

# #

[all coughing]

Geez, this place is as dusty

as a a

- A desert in a sandstorm?

- My signed oath to do no harm?

- Eleanor Roosevelt's vag*na?

- Aww, sad if true.

Stop.

I would have had something.

- Lana got in my head.

- Not really a challenge.

Pardon me.

Delivery for Lana Kane?

Damn it, Krieger, I thought you

told me this place was secure.

I told you,

or you thought I told you?

Ugh. Just leave them by the door.

- Right, then.

- Nope, take them back.

If Robert thinks for one second

that a handful of glorified weeds

can make up for what he said to me,

- he is more mistaken than

- You were for marrying him?

- Ha! I'm back, baby!

- Focus. According to our records,

the bug was still active

until the battery went out

three years ago.

Since it was powered down,

there's a good chance it hasn't

been picked up by sweeps.

So, here's how we retrieve it.

Sterling and Lana,

you'll be making ingress

ARCHER: I don't know

if we'll have time for that.

LANA: Ugh, not what it means.

MALORY: Through the second

story window.

Cyril, you'll stay on the ground

and monitor the area

for reinforcements.

Try not to eat

anything important.

This is my last one forever.

You talking to us,

or the ten bars in your pocket?

Pam and Cheryl,

you'll surveil from the square

across the street,

blending in as

BOTH: [in British accent]

Fancy English ladies.

My hat is huge.

You know, we British

invented giant hats

as a way to temper an overly

aggressive pigeon population.

- Wait.

- Oh!

- Is that true?

- Meanwhile, I'll be in the van with Krieger,

running the entire show

with immaculate precision.

Just like the Rockettes.

Jazz legs.

MALORY: Once you're in position

- Post coital.

- Post ingress.

- Same thing.

- It's not.

MALORY: Krieger will jam

the alarm system.

- What about the bug?

- Some of my best work.

Not bad, Mother.

MALORY: I modeled the breasts

on my own.

Is it possible for you to just not?

MALORY: And you'll be happy to know,

they're still a dead match.

I was happier before I knew.

So how do we get

the code off the bug?

I whipped a little something up.

- Sorry, do you have anything bigger?

- Dude, this is ancient tech.

It doesn't interface

with anything modern.

- And the giant flashing lights?

- Those are for me.

Got the code.

MALORY: Good. Now rub the center

of my breasts to reactivate.

- What?

- MALORY: Sorry, the breasts.

I'm terrified

of crossing a societal taboo

- that exists for a reason.

- Oh, my God.

- MALORY: Was that so hard?

- CYRIL: No.

You're not just some

sugar-guzzling, self-flagellater.

You're part of an elite spy team.

Case in point.

I've got someone on approach.

He's looking right at me.

Now he's waving at me.

And I'm waving back?

Hello.

Oh, I think that went really well.

- No, no, no, no, no. Bad news.

- What is it?

My jamming of the alarm

system is itself being jammed.

- It's a classic double jam!

- So the alarm is reactivated?

Sterling, get out of there!

Oh, wait,

now he's picking up a rock.

Yep, he's throwing the rock.

Oh!

He almost hit

that security camera.

And now I'm waving at it.

Cheerio.

For once I feel comfortable

saying that wasn't me.

Run, you dimwits!

[alarm blaring]

[dramatic music]

LANA: Cyril, you were supposed

to watch the street,

not your g*dd*mn candy bar!

I was.

And I I didn't.

I put the candy bar away.

It was a really big moment.

Well, thanks to you, our next

big moment is British jail,

which is probably pretty nice.

# #

- [cloth rips]

- [grunts]

- This day was going so

- Characteristically unwell?

- Ow!

- sh*t, did that hurt?

- Get the suitcase, assh*le.

- Right, right, yeah. Of course.

Mission update: we failed,

and Lana got punched

by some sort of magician.

A suspect has been identified

in the late night break-in

at number 10 Downing Street.

Darling, did you have

to look straight on?

- Like his profile's any better. [laughs]

- Malory, please.

It was a mistake

any of us could have made.

NEWS ANCHOR: Some speculate

that the burglar is American,

due to the American candy

wrapper found at the scene.

If the U. S. Government

is involved,

it would mark

the first hostile exchange

between the two countries

since the w*r of 1812.

Does this count as splashy?

Okay, team, no need to panic.

Let's just take stock

of where we are.

- Well, the suitcase is gone.

- Along with our payday.

Cyril, stop talking about

candy bars, you zero.

Wait, I can do better.

The the three musketeers

would pay a bounty of 100 grand

to send you to Mars.

Boom, score.

- Is no one even gonna snicker at that?

- Ugh. Just k*ll me.

If it wouldn't attract more

attention, I would have already.

Now stand in the corner

and look at the ground.

I want options, people!

Well, I did put

a tracker on the suitcase.

- ALL: What?

- I also put a receiver in the tracker

so it can record data

from the bug.

So we just bugged

the British prime minister?

- [laughs] It really is 1812.

- Lana and Sterling,

track down the thief

and secure the suitcase.

Take Idiot One

and Idiot Two as lookouts.

Mummy wants us to go on an outing.

- How exciting!

- Indubitably.

- A truly professional outfit.

- [gasps] The gentleman's complimented our hats.

- Well, this won't get old.

- And the lady's a right ol' crank.

- And Cyril?

- Yes?

I have a plan for you after all.

[gulps]

LANA: According

to Krieger's tracker,

the suitcase napper is keeping

to crowded public spaces.

Suitcase napper? What is

he, a nursery rhyme villain?

Or whoever.

Who do you think he is?

An IIA Agent, probably.

Why don't we just save time

and intercept him

at their headquarters?

Because, genius, there's no

IIA headquarters in London.

- Well, that's inconvenient.

- KRIEGER: Hi, guys.

My tracking device tells me

he's 300 feet ahead of you.

Time to nap the napper.

See, Lana?

See how stupid that sounds?

Pam, Cheryl.

Do you have eyes?

Neither hide nor hair.

- 'Tis like an apparition fair.

- Miss Cornish,

Miss Worcestershire,

your table is ready.

I shall ring if I see him.

Ta-ta.

You know, we Brits

spike our tea with opium.

That's why it's called "high tea."

- Nuh-uh.

- Look it up.

- Wait!

- [gasps]

Oh, thanks.

These wretched servants

come out of nowhere!

I think Mother's right

about cutting their salaries.

Whatever. It can't be that hard

to spot a Black guy

in an English crowd.

Damn it, London's actually

really diverse.

Wait, there.

Krieger, I've got him in sight.

Stand by for apprehension.

Archer, I'll cross, you cover.

Archer?

- Look, Lana, British tchotchkes.

- Oh, will you pay attention?

I can pay attention and shop.

Two pounds? You wish.

Actually, is that a lot?

- I'm not clear on the exchange rate.

- I found the guy.

- Where?

- What the

Man, this guy's like Houdini.

Meaning he hopped in a cab

while you weren't looking?

- While you weren't looking.

- I was looking at tchotchkes.

You aren't going to turn me

into fertilizer, are you?

Please,

your candy-infused blood

would k*ll anything

it came in contact with.

Ouch, but point taken.

What's with all these

overly decorative pests?

- You mean butterflies?

- k*ll them as caterpillars, I say.

So we aren't here

to m*rder me,

and we're clearly not here

to enjoy this beautiful garden.

- So what are we doing?

- We're meeting Cornelius Varma.

The beefcake from 50 years ago?

The ultimate agent.

He'll fix your mess,

and then maybe

make a mess out of me.

Eesh.

[soft dramatic music]

[gasps] Malory!

Brilliant of you to come.

I think I need

to talk to your son.

- Maybe grandson?

- [laughs]

Poppet, come on, it's me.

- Your beefcake turned into beef jerky.

- Oh, eat a gum drop.

[caws]

Look, there's the Ravenmaster.

Legend has it that if the

ravens ever leave this tower,

the British Empire will crumble.

Heavens to Murgatroyd.

What a frightful thought.

Hey! What the

- Take that, you wankers!

- The hell?

- The ravens are androids.

- Guards!

Wait!

'Tis a dangerous country.

What are we supposed

to be doing?

Pick up the phone.

[sighs] Pam's not answering.

More bad news:

the shop wouldn't exchange

the keychain you broke.

More, more bad news:

the suitcase is on the move.

- Oh, bill me.

- Can I also bill you for a memory?

Because this one is ruined.

'Ello, 'ello.

What modeling agency

might I be dropping

you off at, love?

[laughs]

Oh, you're too kind.

- It's actually a p*rn sh**t.

- Bugger me.

That's actually

the title of the p*rn.

Our friend will direct you

to the studio.

KRIEGER: Howdy, howdy.

- Careful, he might think you're fun.

- I am fun.

- Ha!

- Oh, "ha" what?

She grumbled, not understanding

the sound of human laughter.

What are you talking about?

It's like rule number one

of our group dynamic, Lana,

that you're not

and have never been fun.

No, rule number one is,

"Don't tell Pam a secret."

Fine. Rule number two then.

- Are we close?

- KRIEGER: Nope.

And here we are.

Wheat germ sandwiches

and decaffeinated tea

good for the sciatica.

Cornelius,

we're on a bit of a schedule.

My intelligence said

you were still an active agent.

Wrong on both counts, I'm afraid.

Bad knee and bad business,

ever since IIA took over.

- How are you faring?

- Thriving.

- We're broke.

- You want my advice?

Make a deal with IIA,

pocket a few quid

for bugging the prime minister,

and retire.

Close down? Like some

pathetic independent bookstore?

It's less dreadful

than you may think.

We're both getting old, poppet.

And they can pry my agency

from my dead,

grenade-holding fingers.

- Ah, you sound very American.

- I sound like you used to.

Remember why we got into this?

To bring down the powerful.

No one could afford

not to be afraid of us.

- And in that way, you were truly free.

- Hmm. [chuckles]

You haven't changed a bit.

- And I never intend to.

- Very well, then.

I'll contact my people to see

if we can dig up anything

on your IIA agent.

But, Mal, I'd like you to do

something for me in return.

Fine, but keep it over the shirt.

LANA: That's your example

of me not being fun?

Oh, I have more.

Like the time you made me

- change two diapers in one day.

- For your own child.

And then there was the time

you made me

not sleep with that diplomat's wife.

And the time you made me not

sleep with that czar's wife.

And the time you made me

not sleep with

LANA: These are examples of you

being a d*ck.

ARCHER: And frankly, Lana,

you responded poorly.

- Because you're no fun.

- Well, what about the time in Sicily

when we got pegged as agents,

and I roundhouse kicked

a bouncer in the face?

- How is that fun?

- I was wearing kitten heels.

Krieger, are we getting close?

Oh, God, no.

The target is at the British Library.

What?

That's like two miles away.

- How is he moving so fast?

- KRIEGER: On the plus side,

it looks like Cheryl and Pam

are right on top of him.

CHERYL: You can't hide

your secrets forever.

I know about the magic books, I does!

Damn, you're heavy

for a skinny girl.

LANA: Pam, the target

is running right past you.

- Who?

- ARCHER: The spy, Pam. With the suitcase.

Literally the reason we're in London.

Oh, right. Yeah, I

I don't see anybody.

LANA: How can that be? And how

is he covering ground so fast?

This city is packed.

Through the secret escape tunnels

in the British sewers.

Ugh, why don't you Americans

know anything?

LANA: Huh. Does she know

what she's talking about?

I truly have no idea.

Ugh, so, how far we walk

through human feces

before we decide this isn't

a secret escape tunnel?

- Bermuda! Ha!

- Not sure this sewer is transatlantic.

No. My proof that I'm fun.

15 years ago in Bermuda.

Oh. You mean, Bermuda, Bermuda?

Like, back when

we were first together?

We were on that stakeout, and

it was taking a really long time.

By the river.

I was fun with you four times.

Then two more times in the river.

Sploosh and bam.

- Nope, doesn't count.

- Oh? Why not?

Because you never did it again.

And now you've depressed me

by making me remember,

actively sucking the fun away.

And that's the last

active sucking you'll ever get.

- Phrasing.

- Obviously!

MALORY: Everyone, our man

is approaching the London Eye.

[laughs]

Look out, Old Blighty!

Cornelius Varma is coming

for one last hoorah.

Okay, to catch this guy,

I say we surface to the street,

hijack a speedboat,

and joyride through the River Thames.

Or we just keep moving this way,

- which would be ten times faster.

- See? No fun.

Oh, God, of course this happens

- when I'm in a van without bazookas.

- Take a left at the corner.

There's an open alley

we can fit through.

No, they shuttered that ages ago.

The only way through London at

this hour is the chockablock route.

The chockablock route?

We nearly d*ed last time.

Since when are you afraid

of a little danger?

We'll need a bike.

[motorcycle engine roars]

[grunts]

- Seems I've secured one.

- Oh, Cornelius.

[sly music]

[engine revving]

[tires screech]

- Do you think they're going to

- Yep.

# #

There wait. Why would

he get on a Ferris wheel?

Wow, you're really not

getting this "fun" thing.

I mean it's a dead end, you d*ck.

[dramatic music]

sh*t.

Not if you have a helicopter.

- Everybody get here. Now.

- Yes, ma'am.

Go where?

It's bumper to bumper.

Then I guess

the bumper is coming with us.

[heavy metal music plays]

- CYRIL: Ah!

- Ah!

Upshift! Upshift!

Damn it, woman!

Would you like to drive?

I thought you'd never ask.

# #

[tires screech]

[screaming]

It's okay!

We're Americans.

- [screams]

- CYRIL: Whoa, whoa, whoa!

- Tchotchkes!

- I see them.

- I meant avoid them.

- [chuckles] Oops.

Next time.

[dramatic music]

# #

Damn, this guy's good

at climbing Ferris wheels.

- Where is everyone?

- [panting] We made it!

My sincerest apologies.

Remember that time we were scouting

that iron ore mine in Madagascar,

and you told me not to

swallow ferromagnetic flakes?

- Archer, it's not the time.

- Always the time, Lana.

Because if I had listened

to you then

You wouldn't have

projectile vomited chunks

that stuck to the break room fridge

so they had to throw

the whole thing away?

Well, yeah, that.

And also, I wouldn't have

the idea to do this.

Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

I am the magnet master!

North and south polarities

are mine to command.

Be careful.

MAN: Yeah, Archer.

Listen to Mummy.

Fabian?

FABIAN: You really haven't

changed the frequency

of your comms after I broke

into them last time?

Top notch spy craft there.

How's this for spy craft?

[grunts]

[yelps]

# #

[grunts]

[crowd gasping]

FABIAN:

I would say, not great.

- And I would say, shut up.

- Archer! The helicopter!

Backup would be nice anytime.

Pam? Cheryl?

[Pam burps]

I have no idea what

we're supposed to be doing,

but I think you own

a rugby team now.

Whoo-hoo!

Long live the zombie king!

Gotta admit,

this was way more fun

than acting like normal tourists.

You know, tourism

was developed by the British

to drum up support

for the expansion

of an increasingly

destructive empire.

Its violent, cannibalistic success

is basically the reason

- the world will end in 50 years.

- Bullshit.

See you boys on the pitch

or court or whatever.

- Wait!

- I know.

Traffic's on the right.

[tires screech]

- [grunts]

- CYRIL: Sorry!

[woman screams]

[crowd screaming]

MAN: Ah!

I can't help

but notice that your team

is not as polished as we used to be.

Eh, you work with

the people you can get.

[both grunting]

Archer! Jump!

Sorry, mind if I use you

for something?

[grunts]

[screams]

Lana!

Now that's splashy.

Wait, wait, wait, what about,

"How's that for a splash?"

You know what?

[screams]

- Whoops.

- I could have d*ed.

How did you know I'd react in time?

- I didn't.

- [chuckles] You are fun.

Well, thank you, Max Eisenhardt.

Hey, call me Magneto.

[sirens wailing]

[mellow music]

- We did it!

- Yay!

Krieger, what's

the chatter in Parliament?

They're blaming

the incident on the IIA.

Cornelius gave them

a photo of an employee

who looks exactly like Cyril.

Oh, who's the unlucky

handsome devil?

This guy doesn't look like me.

- He's just dough-faced and depressed.

- Sounds like they nailed it.

So what are you we going

to do with the bug now?

- Sell it to the highest bidder?

- I'm holding onto it.

You never know

when you'll need to knock

- the powerful down a peg.

- Wow, Mother.

I thought the only principles

you stuck to were dry martinis

- and never tipping the help.

- Apparently, I have a third.

That's strangely nice.

But why was Cornelius so willing

to put his life on the line for us?

Exactly how close were you two?

Let's just say he knows

his way around a catsuit.

And let's not say anything else.

Uh, is that zinc oxide

in your cleavage?

Yes.

That's from a boating trip.

- Stop. Don't say it.

- A motorboating trip.

[groaning]

Still got it.