03x02 - Heart of Archness: Part II

[bunniefuu]

ARCHER: C'mon Cyril,
beat it, get outta here.

ARCHER: This meeting's
for field agents only.

MALORY: Which brings me to item one.

We don't have enough field agents to
effectively run our covert operations.

Especially since this one went
and got himself paralyzed.

GILLETTE: Yeah that's me, Mr. Selfish.

MALORY: More like Ms.

Anyway, effective immediately, I'm
promoting Cyril to field agent.

LANA: What?!

GILLETTE: Do what?!

ARCHER: Hey, that sounds
great, best of luck.

MALORY: Where do you
think you're going?

ARCHER: Oh, sorry, I gotta get back
to Earth before the Stargate closes.

MALORY: Get back in here!

ARCHER: Mother the
chevrons are locking!

LANA: And Cyril is utterly, laughably
unqualified to be a field agent!

Some offense.

CYRIL: Some taken.

MALORY: Well, none of you were
qualified when you first started.

And you've already given Cyril some training...
ARCHER: Which ended with a dead

hooker in my trunk!

CYRIL: No it didn't!

ARCHER: It easily could have!

LANA: Malory, you can't just --
MALORY: End! Of discussion.

And since this meeting is
for field agents only...

GILLETTE: You're taking
me out of the field?!

MALORY: Well, unless we need someone
to go undercover as a shopping cart.

GILLETTE: [annoyed sigh]

MALORY: This is Roma¡n Calzado, the
notorious Colombian drug lord.

And hopefully an infusion
of much-needed capital.

LANA: Since when are we bounty hunters?

MALORY: Since the DEA's budget
was gutted by all those federal

spending cutbacks.

CYRIL: Which is ridiculous,
given the current economy.

The most efficient way to
decrease the budget deficit is

to increase tax revenue, through, um...
MALORY: Cyril don't make me

regret this decision.

CYRIL: Sorry.

MALORY: And if you were in my
tax bracket you wouldn't be

spouting that socialist propaganda.

ARCHER: Or wearing such shitty clothes.

The reward is a million dollars!

LANA: Exactly, and how many drug users
could be treated with that money?

MALORY: Who cares?!

LANA: Seriously?!

ARCHER: Lana, they'd just go buy a
million dollars worth of crack with it.

LANA: You don't give them the money.

ARCHER: You can't, they'll
blow it on crack.

LANA: Oh my God.
MALORY: No they won't, because it'll in the !sis bank

account.

Because you're going to get
Calzado, dead or alive.

And Cyril, dress appropriately, you'll
be helicoptering into the jungle.

CYRIL: Coool...
MALORY: Oh, and this whole thing reminds me...

Pam? Nine AM Friday morning, all !sis
employees will take a drug test.

PAM: Nkay.

MALORY: And knock off
that damn beatboxing!

MALORY: Ugh.

Last week it was freestyling.

ARCHER: Yes, this LZ!

You dumbass!

Where we are right now!

In twenty four hours!

And you better be here!

What a d*ck.

LANA: Well he's probably
just under a lot of stress.

Since he's our only way out
of th stupid jungle! Dumbass!

CYRIL: Seriously...
ARCHER: Thanks, ghost of Teddy Roosevelt.

CYRIL: Ms. Archer said dress for the tropics!

ARCHER: Tropics or Busch Gardens?

CYRIL: Hey, ya know what?!

ARCHER: Yes.

LANA: Heckle?

Jeckle?

Between us and Calzado's fortified
compound there's about

ten clicks of jungle that I just assume
is one giant booby-trap showroom.

So shut your dickholes, get your gear,
shut up again, and start walking.

Any questions?

Cyril.

CYRIL: What's a click.

ARCHER: Yeah you say that all
the time and I never know what

you're talking about.

I'm assuming it's a sound of some sort?

CHERYL/CAROL: Nuh-uhh!

PAM: Swear to God, first thing Friday
morning we all gotta pee in a cup -

GILLETTE: Which I can't even do...
y'all PAM: Cleaning out my freezer

last week, found a big bag of skank.

I guess I brought it back from Jamaica, but --
CHERYL/CAROL: But it's

just a pot test, right?!

PAM: No, stupid.

All dr*gs.

CHERYL/CAROL: Oh shit.

I call 'em grooving bears.

PAM: How bout you, Ironsides?

You rollin dirty?

GILLETTE: Umm... Possibly.

PAM: Well then we're all screwed.

KRIEGER: Talking about
the drug test, huh?

CHERYL/CAROL: Duh.

KRIEGER: Well -- What if I told
you I had a way to beat any drug

test in the world.

PAM: Are you telling us that?

KRIEGER: Yes.

CHERYL/CAROL: Well?

What is it?!

KRIEGER: I call it... Krieger-Kleanse.

It's an herbal tea, all-natural,
and it's guaranteed to rid your

body of all traces of
any illicit substance.

PAM: Well here, gimme gimme give it!

KRIEGER: Ah ah ahh!

I literal - figuratively scoured the
globe for these special herbs,

at no small expense to myself.

CHERYL/CAROL: Ugh. How much.

KRIEGER: Hundred bucks each.

EVERYBODY: [ Complaining ]

KRIEGER: Or you can save your
money, and try your luck in the

current job market.

Non-sequential bills, please.

ARCHER: Well then why
not just say kilometer?

LANA: Because shut up.

ARCHER: Jungle ziiing...
CYRIL: So it says here that

Calzado isn't even the head of the
whole operation... LANA: Cyril.

CYRIL: He's actually just a distributor
for somebody named La Sombra.

The Shade?

LANA: Cyril.

CYRIL: No, I bet in this
context, The Shadow.

LANA: Cyril.

CYRIL: Oof.

Hey, what's your problem?

LANA: My problem is I don't
want a thousand of steel balls

to shred my genitals.

CYRIL: Huh?

ARCHER: Claymore mine.

Full of steel balls that fly a
thousand meters - or one click -

a second, right at d*ck level.

CYRIL: Jeezy petes...
LANA: Or ass level, which in your case would also

take off your head.

So quit reading and pay attention.

CYRIL: But there's a lot of useful
stuff in here, organizational charts,

inventory and cash-flow analyses...
spreadsheets?

ARCHER: Of what, possible
outcomes with a twenty-sided die?

CYRIL: Well you don't need
a spreadsheet for that...

ARCHER: Yeah and you don't need
one to know you're gonna suck at

being a field agent Cyril.

So why do you wanna be one?

CYRIL: I dunno, I just wanna feel
like I'm a part of the team, ya know?

I guess I wanna...
feel like I matter more.

ARCHER: Wow, not afraid to dump out
your purse in the jungle, huh?

Okay Cyril, then lesson One-A.

In a potentially hostile environment,
like this, the key is total situational

awareness.

CYRIL: Okay...
ARCHER: You look, you listen, you smell.

And you remember to check your six.

CYRIL: My six what.

Is that my g*n?

The old six sh**t.

ARCHER: Oh my God, a clock
Cyril, It means behind you.

Because the last thing you want
is -- Uh Lana, hold up a sec?

LANA: Archer we don't have a -- Cyril?

ARCHER: Yeah, that's
why I said hold up.

LANA: Archer!

ARCHER: Don't yell at me, I looked away
for literally literally one second!

LANA: Well where the hell did he go?!

ARCHER: I dunno, it's like... he just...
LANA: You're looking for

Predator, aren't you?

ARCHER: Yes.

LANA: Couple things.

A, he's invisible --
ARCHER: Not totally, he has a telltale shimmer.

Ow!

LANA: And B, lower your frickin voice.

MAN: Á¡Oye!!

Manos arriba!

ARCHER: Is that Cyril?

MAN: ¿Quien es?!

ARCHER: No, it's not whimpery enough.

LANA: Cyril! Cyril!

God damn it.

ARCHER: Well, look on the bright side.

LANA: Which is?

ARCHER: Which is what?

LANA: What's the bright side?!

ARCHER: Oh.

That's a figure of speech.

ARCHER: All I'm saying is there are a
million green rectangularly reasons to

complete the mission, and
zero reasons not to.

LANA: You mean besides
Cyril getting captured.

ARCHER: Yeah! Besides that.

And if Calzado's men got Cyril, we'll
rescue him when we get Calzado.

Problemo solvedo.
LANA: What if it was F.A.R.K.

or V.E.L.N.

ARCHER: Then we'll use some of the
million dollar reward to pay his ransom.

So shut up, Cyril's going to be fine.

Unless a tiger ate him.

LANA: Tigers don't
live in South America.

ARCHER: Well at least one does because
I just heard its spine-tingling roar.

LANA: That was a jaguar, dumbass.

ARCHER: Thanks, Marlon Perkins.

I think I know a tiger when I hear one.

LANA: Every time, your big fat
mouth get's us caught, every time.

ARCHER: Not every time,
like a third of the time.

And a thousand bucks
that's a tiger Lana.

CHERYL/CAROL: If this doesn't
work we just paid a hundred

bucks for liquid fart.

PAM: Yeah, well here's
shit in your eye.

GILLETE: Oh god, it tastes
worse than it smells.

PAM: Man, if I had a nickel for every
time I heard a guy said that,

I'd have eight nickels.

LANA: Archer, I swear to
God if you don't shut up.

ARCHER: I'm just saying if it comes
down to that, and I hope it doesn't,

there's no sense in us
both getting r*ped.

CALZADO: Fernando, our special guests
must not be injured in any way.

ARCHER: Uh, does that include
r*pe related injuries?

CALZADO: Of course.

No one is going to r*pe you.

What is wrong with you?

LANA: We're scared.

We're just tourists, see,
and our car broke down.

CALZADO: So the as*ault weapons and plastic
expl*sives, why do you have these?

ARCHER: O.: yes, let me explain.

Busted, we're arms dealers.

CALZADO: No, I think not.

I Think you are hunting Roma¡n Calzado.

In the hopes of a
million dollar reward.

ARCHER: O.K. yes, busted again.

But I think now we're
kinda rethinking that.

CALZADO: So, if I give you two
million, will you go away

and say you never found me?

LANA: I -- Oh my God, totally yes.

ARCHER: Then we give mother a
million and you and I can

split the other million.

Calzado, you've got yourself a deal.

CALZADO: Excellent.

But of course I was joking.

Obviously I can not allow you to live.

ARCHER: No, yes you can.

CALZADO: Or choose not to, whatever,
besides, throwing money away like that

would not please el contador.

LANA: El contador, doesn't that mean.

CYRIL: The accountant, si.

ARCHER: Cyril?!

CALZADO: Que?

LANA: No he said cereal.

CALZADO: Que?

CYRIL: Cerealas.

El quiere desayuno.

CALZADO: And people in
hell want ice water.

Oye.

CYRIL: Pardon.

CHERYL/CAROL: Oh my God!

I'm gonna die in a toilet stall
just like the gypsy said.

PAM: Damn that Krieger.

n*zi-clone-bastard.

GILLETTE: Well, we don't
know it was the tea.

PAM: Aagh!

Who the hell are you?!

GILLETTE: I'm your friend,
Pam, I'm -- Pam?!

PAM: You're not my friend, you're a Decepticon.
CHERYL/CAROL: Waaaagh!

How are you both still alive?!

The floor is lava!

The floor is lava!

KRIEGER: Clinical trial thirteen.

Subjects' responses are
exceeding expectations.

GILLETTE: Pam you're melting!

You're melting!

CHERYL/CAROL: Because the
floor is lah-vuh-huhhhh!

PAM: Must! k*ll! Decepticon!

KRIEGER: Oh, which reminds me:

call Terry.

RROWWR!

ARCHER: The tiger says... RROWWR!

ARCHER: The tiger also says you
owe me a thousand dollars, so -

LANA: No! I don't!

Because I didn't bet!

ARCHER: The welsher says...
CYRIL: Psssst!

ARCHER: No, that's a snake.

CYRIL: Oh boy, am I
glad to see you guys!

LANA: Cyril, what the
hell's going on?!

ARCHER: Are you a drug
dealer now, or...?

CYRIL: What? No!

And you guys aren't gonna
believe what happened!

I had, um, gastric distress, or whatever,
so I was just gonna duck off the

trail...
ARCHER: And you remember to check your six.

CYRIL: My six what?

CYRIL: Before I knew what was happening...
Oh man, right in my new pants!

HENCHMAN: Á¡Oye!

CYRIL: Hellooo...
HENCHMAN:! Manos arriba!¿!

Quien es?!

CYRIL: And I only had a second to answer,
so I thought, what would Lana do?

ARCHER: Not Archer?

CYRIL: No, I had to outsmart them.

ARCHER: He said, suddenly too big
for his shit-caked britches.

LANA: Archer.

CYRIL: And then it came to me!

Uh... quien soy?

Soy el contador!

Enviado de La Sombra!

Donde esta¡ Calzado?!

ARCHER: What's a La Sombra?

CYRIL: Calzado's boss, don't
you remember the dossier?

ARCHER: No.

LANA: Yes.

But, what about the g*nsh*t?

CYRIL: Then they brought me here, and
I bluffed my way through the rest...

CALZADO: La Sombra did
not say you were coming.

CYRIL: Well, I assume he did not want to
give you the time to cook your books.

CALZADO: I -- that -- I
swear I don't do that!

CYRIL: Well, then you are a fool.

CALZADO: ¿Que?

CYRIL: You pay La Sombra sixty-four
cents on every dollar you make, no?

CALZADO: Mmmmas o menos, pero...
CYRIL: I can get that down to thirty cents,

and he will never even know.

CALZADO: Si?! Pero como?!

CYRIL: You just leave
that to me, amigo.

CALZADO: Wait, what's in this for you?

CYRIL: We split the
difference, of course!

But first I need some clean clothes.

This is not mud all over my pants.

It's caca.

LANA: Holy shit, Cyril!

ARCHER: Literally.

CYRIL: Yeah, really kinda wish I'd
skipped the diarrhea part...

LANA: Forget that, you did great!

CYRIL: Really?

ARCHER: It figuratively kills me to
say this Cyril, but yeah, you did.

LANA: So now what, what's the plan?

CYRIL: Oh. Well, I was hoping you
guys could come up with something.

And ideally before tomorrow at dawn.

ARCHER: Why, what's --
CALZADO: What is going on here?!

CYRIL: Ah, amigo!

I was just mocking this giant
negress and her sissy sidekick.

CALZADO: Yes, they are ridiculous, no?

Are the accommodations to your liking?

ARCHER: Honestly?

LANA: No.

You shouldn't even keep
animals in these conditions.

Look at them.

Cement floors, steel bars, no room to
run around, nothing to play with...

CALZADO: Ah, I think perhaps you
are confusing this with a zoo.

ARCHER: I think, maybe, it's
all these exotic animals.

CALZADO: Yes, exotic
animals for me to hunt.

LANA: You hunt them?!

How can you do that?!

CALZADO: Like this.

ARCHER: God damn dude.

CALZADO: But you see?

Even the majestic Bengal
tiger is too easy to k*ll!

It's boring!

Which is why tomorrow at dawn,
I will be hunting the most

dangerous game in the world!

ARCHER: Jai alai?

LANA: Us!

ARCHER: What?!

CALZADO: Si.

So sleep well, amigos!

I want you rested and
strong for tomorrow!

Venga, Senor Contador, cenamos juntos!

CYRIL: So yeah, try to think of a plan!

LANA: Well, go ahead and say it.

ARCHER: Say what.

LANA: How since we're gonna die in
the morning we should have sex now.

ARCHER: After seeing a
tiger get m*rder*d, Lana?

No offense, but I'm not
really in the mood.

If you want, I can watch
while you masturbate.

But I can tell you right now
my he's not gonna be in it.

It will be with that tiger's family.

But, go ahead, start.

CALZADO: And so begins the hunt
for the most dangerous game!

CYRIL: Hooray...
LANA: So what are the les here, exactly?

ARCHER: Lana be still.

CALZADO: You get a
thirty-minute head start.

Then El Contador and I, just us,
alone, will track you and k*ll you.

CYRIL: Uh, uh... oh!

Can they split up?

CALZADO: Ehhh, sure, why not.

CYRIL: Then I propose a friendly wager.

We each hunt one of them, and the first
to k*ll his quarry is the winner.

CALZADO: I like this idea.

But which --
CYRIL: I get the woman called it boom!

CALZADO: I -- alright,
since you called it.

¡Oye! Cochino...
Okay, let's hunt some humans!

LANA: Go go go go gunngh!

Are you really that selfish?!

ARCHER: Apparently!

KRIEGER: Clinical trial
thirteen, update.

As hypothesized, after
mind-shredding hallucinations,

subjects B and C have lapsed into deep
unconsciousness... Subject A, however,

remains at large.

Begin clinical trial fourteen...
CYRIL: Lana? Lana.

Where the heck is - shmmpf!

LANA: Don't scream, it's me.

CYRIL: Oh thank God, I thought those were yeti hands...
LANA: Never gets old.

But good idea back there,
getting everybody to split up.

CYRIL: Thanks, yeah, I figured you'd know
to head back to the, uh, LZ thingy --

LANA: Which we've only got
about an hour to get to so --

CYRIL: -- and I figured once I
found you we could work together

to rescue Archer, capture
Calzado, and escape.

LANA: Ya know, you don't
actually suck at this.

CYRIL: Really?

LANA: You're thinking tactically, making
quick decisions... and I gotta tell

ya, confidence is pretty damn sexy.

CYRIL: Reeally...
LANA: Theoretically.

CYRIL: Sorry.

LANA: Okay, you're doing pretty well
so far, so what's the plan, rookie?

And sooner would be better than later.

CYRIL: Yeah, Calzado's
on a darn threewheeler.

Can you believe that guy?

LANA: Who, the drug-lord who
hunts humans for sport?

CYRIL: I know, but that's just lame.

LANA: Cyril?

CYRIL: Uh, uh, okay, so we have to assume
Archer's heading back to the LZ too,

but he can't possibly outrun Calzado...
LANA: Yeah, neither can we, so...?

CYRIL: We don't need to outrun him!

Just Archer!

LANA: What?

CYRIL: Come on!

ARCHER: Oww!

Oh eat a d*ck, jungle!

Cover it with malaria and leeches,
sprinkle some dengue fever on it,

and eat a big g*dd*mn jungly d*ck!

Yeah, you do that, and I'll just wait
here for a bask of Orinoco crocodiles to

wander by and eat me.

Oh great, that's probably them now,
tearing around on specially-equipped

croc-choppers.

Wait, what the...?

Goddess of the Jungle,
I take it all back!

For when I was thirsty, you saw
fit to slake my thiiiiiirrrrst!

Goddess of the Jungle, you are a whore.

Oh thank God, I thought
you were crocodiles.

CALZADO: Crocodiles?

On a three-wheeler?

ARCHER: Right?

How scary would that be?

CALZADO: Mmm, probably not as scary as
knowing that I am going to cut you down

from there, and then
gut you like a fish.

ARCHER: Well then you're obviously an
idiot when it comes to crocodiles,

AKA the world's most
deadliest predators.

CALZADO: I am the world's
deadliest predator!

CYRIL: Or are you?

CALZADO: ÿQue?

ARCHER: Cyril?!

CALZADO: No breakfast for you!

CYRIL: No, that's my name, Calzado.

Cyril Figgis... !sis agent.

CALZADO: Bastardo mentiroso!

!sis?!

CYRIL: That's right.

And you're under arrest.

Albeit extra-judicially.

CALZADO: Over my dead body!

CYRIL: Well, that can be arranged.

Lana?

LANA: Hellooo... CALZADO: Ay, caramba...
ARCHER: Wh-? Wait a minute,

was I just bait?!

CYRIL: That's right, Archer.

All part of my brilliant plan.

Lana, get some vines and
tie him up, chop-chop.

LANA: Chop-chop?

ARCHER: Here we go...
CYRIL: Uh yeah, it means hurry?

C'mon, we got a chopper
to catch, tie him up!

LANA: You do it.

CYRIL: Okay, I see what
you're doing here.

Hands behind your back, Calzado.

CALZADO: Make me.

CYRIL: I -- look, she will sh**t you!

LANA: No I won't.

ARCHER: No she won't!

C'mon Cyril, go all rogue on him!

CYRIL: Guys c'mon, this
is ridicul -- ungh!

I think I'm gonna be -- ungh!

Yeah, I'm gonna be sick...
ARCHER: Here, maybe this'll help...

CYRIL: Aaagh! My eyes!

ARCHER: Probably shouldn't
have done that.

Not enough left to get drunk on.

CALZADO: Bastardo!

I k*ll you!

CYRIL: Lanaaaa!

CALZADO: What the hell damn guy.

CYRIL: Oh thank you thank you thank you...
LANA: You're welcome, Cyril.

So, did you learn any
valuable lessons today?

CYRIL: Yes, I did.

ARCHER: Me too.

I learned I don't like being bait.

CYRIL: Owww!

ARCHER: Sorry, Cyril, did that hurt?

Cyril. Cyril.

Cyriiillll!

CYRIL: Yes it frickin hurt!

ARCHER: Yeah, right?

MALORY: What?!

Yes, obviously I heard what you said!

I just can't believe the head of
the DEA has the balls to say it!

Oh, is that a fact!

Oh it is.

M-hm. Yep.

ARCHER: So, uh... How'd that go?

MALORY: Oh, fine.

He was just explaining to me why
!sis won't be receiving any

reward for capturing Calzado.

EVERYBODY: [ What?!]

Because apparently there's
no proof that we did.

LANA: We literally
handed Calzado to them!

MALORY: And in return, did they hand
you a signed receipt for the prisoner?

ARCHER: No, they -- oh.

LANA: Oh, shit.

MALORY: Mm. So, well done.

Because that's exactly the brand of
unparalleled professional excellence that

I've come to expect at !sis.

PAM: No no no no nooo!

ARCHER: What the --
CYRIL: Oh, I wish I was still blind.

PAM: You'll never take me aliiiive!

MALORY: What was I saying?

Oh yes, unparalleled...
KRIEGER: Paaaam!

For the love of God, seal the exits!

MALORY: Professional...
CHERYL/CAROL: That's our pee,

and that's the last I
better hear about it.

Because this stupid building is a tinderbox,
and I will burn it to the ground.

MALORY: Excellence.

ARCHER: Oh hey, speaking of excellent,
did you hear we met a tiger?!

But he got m*rder*d.