Archer (2009–Present) is an animated comedy series on FX created by Adam Reed.


Season 1Edit

Mole Hunt [1.1]Edit

Archer: I have to go. But if I find one single dog hair when I get back, I'll your dead little eyes.
Woodhouse: Very good, sir.
Archer: [pause] I also need you to go buy sand.
Woodhouse: Yes, sir.
Archer: I don't know if they grade it, but... coarse.

Krenshaw: Jesus, Archer. Do you think this is a game?
Archer: No, I think Jenga's a game, and...
Krenshaw: What if I'd been real KGB?
Archer: I assume you would be trying to suck a promotion out of some Russian guy's cock.
Krenshaw: Well, maybe I never get promoted...
Archer: ...and never will...
Krenshaw: ...because my mommy’s not the boss!
Archer: And maybe you just got your face kicked off! [Archer puts his foot in Krenshaw’s face] That is my foot in your face. Smell the embarrassme— [Krenshaw shocks Archer's foot with a golf cart battery]

Malory: ISIS isn't your own personal travel agency. It doesn't exist just so you can jet off to... Whore Island!
Archer: That's not... a real place.
Malory: I have fifty agents who would literally kill to move up to your position. And if you don't square up your operations account by Monday, they won't need to. Your position will be vacant! Sterling!
Archer: Sorry, I was picturing Whore Island.
Malory: Have I made myself clear?!
Archer: You're looking for the answer "yes"?
Malory: Yes.
Archer: Then yes.

Archer: There's my favorite section head!
Pam: I am dealing with the breakroom problem!
Archer: Oh, good, you caught the, uh, oh wait, I had something good for this... the... "Pita Predator".
Pam: You know what?
Archer: ...Sorry, let's just call it what it is: food rapist.
Pam: Not a pretty name, is it?

Archer: [to Pam] I'll throw these doughnuts on the ground so you can pretend they're marbles and you're a hungry hungry... [Pam abruptly shuts the door on Archer] ...hungry hippo.

Archer: What are you doing?
Cyril: Oh. Just dicing veggies for dinner. I always make Lana stirfry for dinner on Friday.
Archer: Neat. Listen...
Cyril: [very excitedly] Guess what we call it!
Archer: "Stir Friday?"
Cryil: [long pause] Wow. That's actually better.
Archer: It's all yours. So come let me in the mainframe.
Archer: And after I gave you "Stir Friday!"
Cyril: Yeah, that is much better.
Archer: I know.

Archer: So, obviously, it would be a lot easier for me if you just disabled all that when you left work tonight... somehow.
Cheryl: Ooh, that would make me... uncomfortable.
Archer: Ugh, God, everything makes you uncomfortable!
[Archer and Cheryl are naked and on the floor of his apartment]
Archer: Just the tip?
[Archer is behind Cheryl now, who is on all fours]
Archer: Just the tip?
[Archer is waving an ice cream cone in front of Cheryl]
Archer: Just the tip!
[in the present]
Archer: How was I supposed to know you're lactose intolerant?
Cheryl: Because I kept screaming it!
Cheryl: Are... are you gonna pay for your lunch?
Archer: Just the tip. [Pause] Actually, I don't have any cash on me. Could you... get it? I also need cab fare. Awww, Ugly Duckling. Bork Bork.

Archer: Well, thanks for nothing, Carol. Now I need to break into ISIS headquarters in a $900 turtleneck. And if it gets ruined I'll make you drink heavy cream, you... Carol!
[Archer zip-lines across to the roof of ISIS]
Archer: Wow, that was actually pretty easy! Thanks, new turtleneck! [rips his turtleneck] Aw, f— And thank you, duffle bag!

Archer: Holy shit, our security is atrocious. Seriously, it's really bad.
[He sits at the computer, which prompts him for a password]
Archer: Password. Hmm, password? How about "Guest".
[He types in "Guest" and it works]
Archer: No way! It can't be. Jesus Christ, that is just... babytown frolics.

Archer: Do not wind her up. That is a big gun and she is baby crazy.
Lana: "Baby crazy"?!
Archer: That's why I broke up with her.
Lana: You lying—! You sack of shit! I broke up with you because you're carrying around a 35-year-old umbilical cord!
Archer: See?! All you talk about is baby shit! Because you're baby crazy!
Lana: You want to see crazy?!
Archer: No! I've seen that movie and, spoiler alert, it ends with a closet full of my suits on fire!
Lana: I wish you'd been wearing one!
Archer: Who would want to wear an on-fire suit!
Lana: Cosplay enthusiasts!
Archer: What?
Lana: Wait! No! Shit!

[Krenshaw walks in on Archer breaking into the mainframe]
Archer: Hey! I was just talking about you, and about how this isn't what it looks like.
Krenshaw: Lot of that going around.
Archer: Yeah, it's an epidemic.
Krenshaw: For example, my real name is Kremenski.
Archer: Is that... sound... is that Jewish?
Krenshaw: It's Russian.
Archer: Um. [long pause] Russian Jewish?
Krenshaw: I'm the mole, idiot.
Archer: Lana! Krenshaw's a mole! And his real name isn't Krenshaw, it's Kremenski. Definitely Russian! Possibly a Jew! Thoughts?

Kremensky: Picture her, dead in the gutter, and what your pathetic life would be like without old Mommy Dearest.
Lana: [Held at gunpoint by Archer] JESUS CHRIST! He's got an ERECTION!
Krenshaw: [holding Malory hostage, but suddenly pushes her away] What is wrong with you people!?
Archer: [shoots Krenshaw] Me? Nothing! You, on the other hand— [Malory hits Archer with her handbag] What's in there, buckles?
Malory: AN ERECTION?! The thought of me dying gives you an erection?!
Archer: Just half of one. The other half would have missed you. Oh wait...

Archer: Johnny Bench called.

Cyril: Yep, see here? Kremensky just stole 50,000 from Archer's acount. Must have been doing it all along.
Archer: Apology accepted. Ass douche.
Cyril: Hey!
Archer: What?
Lana: [Points a gun at Archer] Call him that again.
Archer: Make me!
Lana: What?
Archer: What? Mother, do you see this! This is a hostile work environment.

Malory: [noticing doughnuts scattered across the floor] Oh, for heaven's sake... do you want ants? Because that's how you get ants!

Training Day [1.2]Edit

Archer: So, obviously I'm not happy about this whole arrangement, but...
Cyril: But your mother is, so...
Archer: But I wonder what Lana thinks about...
Cyril: Lana's not "need to know" this.
Archer: Wow. "Open purse, remove balls," huh?
Cyril: Besides, I'm sure it's not the first time you've kept a secret from Lana.
Archer: Uh hello! Herpes?!
[Cheryl gasps loudly]
Cyril: Hello, Cheryl.
Cheryl: It's Carol.
Archer: Wha— Since when?
Cheryl: Since I had it legally changed because you always call me Carol.
Archer: Well that's just... Excuse us.
[Cyril and Archer walk away]
Cyril: What is this herpes business?
Archer: Bad joke. And a false alarm.

Archer: This is what a real field agent uses.
[Archer gives Cyril a new pen]
Cyril: The point is a lot finer than I prefer.
Archer: That's because it's a hypodermic needle and the cartridge is full of a deadly super-toxin called poiso... caine. [puts the pen in Cyril's shirt-pocket] Keep it in here. But be careful, because the cap slips off for, like, no reason.

Archer: Oh, I'm crazy? Cyril, you're the one who killed a perfectly good hooker.

Malory: Immigrants! That's how they do, you know. Just drive around listening to raps and shooting all the jobs.

Archer: Oh my God, you killed a hooker!
Cyril: Call girl! She was a call girl!
Archer: No, Cyril, when they're dead, they're just hookers!

Cyril: Will I get to learn karate?
Archer: Karate?! The Dane Cook of martial arts?! No. ISIS agents use Krav Maga.

Cyril: When would you use an underwear gun?
Archer: Hopefully never. But say you're in a Caribbean bungalow, and you're kind of high, an exotic woman on the bed. Now is she just the high-priced whore you asked for? Or is she an... assassin?
Cyril: I don't know.
Archer: Oh, here's room service. Who ordered champagne?
Cyril: Ah. How should I know?
Archer: Exactly. You're baked. You can't remember. But since when does it take three huge surly Jamaican guys to deliver one bottle of champagne?
Cyril: Ohh. Because they're assassins too?
Archer: Or.. Maybe one guy's a new waiter. The second one's training him, and the third's from maintenance, finally off his lazy ass to fix the A.C.
Cyril: Oh, yeah. I guess that could happen.
Archer: Point is, you come out of the john waving this around... no one's gonna bug you for a tip.

Cheryl: Hey, Pam, check this out.
[Pam looks at computer]
Pam: Holy shit snacks!
Malory: We have snacks?!

Pam: Holy hell, what happened to you?
Malory: Scatterbrain Jane...

Lana: Hey, Jane! [pulls out a switch blade] Gettin' a snack?
Lana: Hey, Jane! [pulls out a switch blade] Gettin' a tampon?

Archer: I am the best at this, Rain Man! OK. I'm like...
Cyril: Who? James Bond?
Archer: Well, I don't like to invite that comparison, but yeah, basically.
Cyril: So do something!
Archer: I'm doing all kinds of stuff, Cyril. I'm shooting the gun, see. I'm driving the car.
Cyril: I could drive better than that.
Archer: So knock yourself out. I'm ejecting.
Cyril: Oh no you are not. you are totally not...
Archer: I totally am.

Cyril: How did you know where I was?
Lana: When we first started going out, I may have...[quickly] injected a tracking device into your body.
Cyril: In my body?
Lana: Baby? Hon?
Cyril: No no, now that is a breach of trust, Lana.
Lana: Do you really want to open this can of trust-breachy worms right after I just caught you and my ex-boyfriend with a dead hooker in the trunk?
Cyril: I do not.
Lana: You do not.

Diversity Hire [1.3]Edit

Cyril: Oh, I think we're pretty diverse.
Lana: Ha! Please...
Archer: What? You’re black... ish...
Lana: "ISH?"
Archer: Well, what’s the word for it, Lana? You freaked out when I said "Quadroon!"
Lana: Imagine that!
Archer: You imagine it!
Malory: Both of you, imagine shutting up!

Lana: [about Conway] And what do we know about this guy?
Archer: Only that he's uncircumcised.
Lana: [Pause] Okay, glossing over how you know that—
Archer: We touched penises.
Lana: NO! GLOSSING! But wait, an uncircumsized Jewish guy? Isn't that kinda weird to you?
Archer: What's weird about that? I'm not Jewish but I am circum—
Lana: That's not how it works!
Archer: Oh Lana, I think we both know it works just fine.
Lana: Not your penis!

[Archer is hammering some paper into a shredder using a stapler]
Lana: What are you doing?
Archer: Uh, none-of-your-business-ing. And what kind of spy agency skimps on a freaking shredder?

Lana: OK, fine, I can't prove anything right now.
Malory: That didn't stop J. Edna Hoover from persecuting Martin Luther King, now did it?
Lana: What does that have to do... Wait, J. Edna?
Malory: You never heard that? How Hoover was a huge cross-dressing chicken hawk?
Lana: I had not.
Malory: Well that's exactly the kind of slanderous and unsubstantiated rumor that I will not tolerate at ISIS. Think about that while you're on suspension.
Lana: While I'm on what?!
Malory: What are you, deaf and racist?
Lana: I'm black!
Malory: Oh, put it back in the deck.

Cyril: Yeah, she's kind of weird that way.
Conway: Yeah, she's kind of weird a bunch of ways.

Pam: And don't go starting rumors about Conway boning your mother.
[Archer throws up]
Pam: You get any of that in the trashcan?
Archer: No. I missed on purpose.

Conway: It's a silent submarine propulsion system called the "Whisper Drive". [...] This is Wilhelm Schmeck, inventor of the Whisper Drive. Yesterday, Schmeck went missing, along with the plans for the Whisper Drive. I've tracked him to South Beach where he's arranged to sell the plans to Cuban Naval Intelligence. If that happens, undetectable Cuban missile subs could be parked right off Miami Beach.
Malory: Ugh, just what Miami needs... More Cubans.

Archer: Lana, call Kenny Loggins... 'cuz you're in the Danger Zone.

[Lana slaps Archer]
Lana: I want you to listen to me.
Archer: Then unperforate my eardrum.
Lana: Un... head up your ass.

[Archer and Conway are hugging after they completed their mission. Conway stabs Archer in the back]
Archer: Conway?
Conway: Yeah, buddy.
Archer: Are there more bad guys behind me?
Conway: Nope.
Archer: You dick.

Conway: You haven't seen the last of Conway Stern... Which is not my real name.

Killing Utne [1.4]Edit

Malory: And I don't want another one of your sullen whores using my medicine cabinet like a Pez dispenser.

Archer: You said no dates.
Malory: I said no such thing.
Archer: Well, your mouth did.
Malory: Well, your mouth better get over there and make Torvald happy!
Archer: Um, phrasing?

Malory: [to Archer] Regale him with tales of ISIS exploits. Take his mind off Lana's huge Johnny Benchian fingers.
Lana: Could we get off my fingers?
Cyril: Yeah, they are pretty big.
Lana: First time I've heard you complain.

Archer: All I've had today is, like, six gummy bears and some scotch.

Dr. Krieger: [on Elke] Like to get a physical from her.
Cyril: Or with her.
Lana: [performing painful nerve hold on Cyril] I wonder if Dr. Panty Model knows how many pounds of pressure it takes to snap a human collarbone.
Cyril: She probably uses the metric system.
Pam: Yeah, what do they use—kilowatts?
Dr. Krieger: No. In this case, it would be pascals.
Cheryl: Hey, Europe: be gayer.
Malory: Lana, release him!
Lana: As you wish. [She releases Cyril] I find your lack of faith disturbing.
Cyril: I find your mannish hands disturbing.
Pam: I think they're kinda sexy.
Lana: Excuse me?
Cheryl: They're fingers, Pam. Not kielbasas.

Archer: [as Malory rings a dinner bell] Wow. Forgot how much I hate that.
Malory: Oh, that's right. I kept it on the nightstand to wake nanny whenever Sterling wet the bed.
Archer: [as everybody laughs] Mother!
Cheryl: Wait, whose bed?
Woodhouse: It was always "don't ask, don't tell."
Archer: Woodhouse! What are you doing?!
Woodhouse: Uh, sitting down, sir.
Archer: What, at the table?!
Malory: Sterling.
Archer: Like people?!
Malory: Sterling!
Archer: What?! Look, he thinks he's people!

Woodhouse: [as everyone wonders what to with the bodies of Utne & Elke] I shall fetch a rug!

Malory: But they were blanks! Weren't they?
Archer: Only if the back of his skull picked that exact moment to explode outwards.

Cyril: [carrying Torvald's body] I should be carrying her.
Archer: [carrying Elke's body] Cyril, I paid her, I get to carry her corpse.

[All dialogue and action unseen]
Malory: All right, drop them there next to that awful Louis Quinze repro. [Thump, clatter] Now, then. We want this to look like a classic hooker/murder/suicide. So... Cyril, take Sterling's gun and pump a round into his prostitute.
Cyril: Wait, what?!
Malory: Everyone shoots the chippy! That way, we're all in it together. Think of it as a team-building exercise.
Cyril: But ODIN gets to go on Outward Bound.
Malory: Well, ODIN can suck it! Now shoot!
Cyril: Oh, Jesus.
[Muffled gunshot]
Cheryl: Ew.
Malory: You're next.
Archer: God, Cyril, that was... [gunshot] pathetic.
Cyril: Shut up.
Malory: Come on! Everybody shoots!
Pam: Hey, I wanna go!
[Five muffled gunshots]
Malory: Now, Sterling, drop your gun between the bodies...
Archer: No! Have you ever seen CSI? This is already like Clue Town.
Malory: Not for long. Dr Krieger, dear...
Archer: Wha... oh.
Malory: Cyril, call 911 from their phone and leave it off the hook, and... Sterling!
Archer: But this gun—it was a gift.
Malory: Oh, please! Nobody gives you gifts!
Archer: You don't know.
Malory: Whatever you say, dear. Dr. Krieger.
[Flick of a lighter, slight plume of flame]
Cyril: Oh, hot potato!
Archer: We still didn't get the UN contract.
Malory: Oh, but I will. And I'll get to see Trudy Beekman try to explain this little barbecue to the co-op board!
Woodhouse: That smell takes me back—just like a Zambesi feast.
Pam: Yeah, I'm kinda hungry. Is that weird?
Malory: It would be weirder if you weren't.

Cheryl: Oh, I thought we were laughing at the dead people we set on fire.

Honeypot [1.5]Edit

Malory: Oh, all Hispanics look roguish.

Archer: [Wearing only a towel and baseball catcher's mask] WOODHOUSE! Do we have any lube? Like at this point even some olive oil would [finds his mother in the living room] help me get that drawer unstuck.

Malory: And don't even get me started on Miss Gillette.
[Meanwhile, at the office]
Gillette: [To Pam and Cheryl] She has never liked me. But someday I'm gonna write a book about this place. Mhm, a real smackaroonie.

Charles: Oh my god, you like... sneeze glitter.

Charles: What? Normal as opposed to gay?
Rudy: Implying that gay is abnormal?
Archer: Not abnormal, just... gay!

Charles: Yeah. Latino men, you take the bad with the good.

Charles: Oh my god, yes. Those NAZI uniforms?
Rudy: Hugo Boss!
Charles: Shut up!
Rudy: Swear to god.

Woodhouse: Sir, that stolen lemur bit one of your prostitutes right in the face and she says she can't go to hospital because she's, quote, "tripping balls."

Malory: Jesus GOD, Sterling, schoolgirls?
Archer: No! They're just costumes.
Malory: And I suppose that makes it better?
Archer: ...Doesn't it?
Woodhouse: I have ascertained the target, sir. He's actually quite handsome.
Archer: And I suppose that makes it better?
Woodhouse: Doesn't it?
Malory: Don't tell me that you set this whole thing up just so you could get me to move in with you and your mother!
Maj. Nikolai Jackov: No, no! It was just merely incompetence.
Malory: And I suppose that makes it better?
Maj. Nikolai Jackov: Doesn't it?

Archer: Jesus, Krieger, you're still taping bum fights?
Krieger: No, now I'm into something... darker.

Krieger: I've developed a proprietary chemical compound which may come in handy. I call it Formula K.
Archer: And it makes you temporarily gay?
Krieger: I dunno. Just started human testing [whispering] by dosing Danny the Intern's coffee.
Danny the Intern: [in singsong voice] Danny is definitely feeling something!
Archer: I'll pass.
Krieger: Suit yourself. [Takes a pill] Just means more for me and Danny.
Danny the Intern: [singsong] Who is LOV-ing it!

Archer: Way the Christ out in the Everglades burying some Dominican guy's rooster!
Charles: Fun! Wha— Oh, you mean literally.

Ramón: Mamá always said, "Ramón, un hombre real debe saber cocinar." ["A real man should know how to cook"]
Archer: Mine always said, "Sterling, come in here and check me for lumps." Holy shit, was that out loud?

Woodhouse: From the looks of it, and not to mention the lemur, I would hazard he’s taking a personal day.

Woodhouse: Sir, the lemur bit one of the schoolgirls and she says she cannot go to the hospital because she is, quote, "tripping balls".

Woodhouse: I’m afraid the lemur got into the pudding cups.
Archer: Yeah, like I told you he would! You idiot!

Cheryl: I think that’s hot, like somebody murdering me is so... intimate.
[Later, discussing her fetish]
Cheryl: You seriously don't think that's hot?
Pam: I seriously think you're scary.
Cheryl: No no no no, like, a big, sweaty fireman carries you out of a burning building, lays you on the sidewalk and you think, "yeah, okay, he's gonna give me mouth-to-mouth", but instead he just starts choking the shit out of you, and the last sensation that you feel before you die is he is squeezing your throat so hard that a big, wet, blob of drool drips off his teeth and just, flurp, falls right onto your popped-out eyeball.
[Awkward pause]
Pam: Jesus Christ!

Charles: We bought those for him and if you throw them off the roof I will fly to New York and fling acid in your face.

Archer: Out macho a gay guy? Oh my stars!
Charles: Hmm, or you could be a sarcastic bitch your whole life.

Charles: Okay, we're off to get our scrotums waxed!

Archer: Yeah? Well, I'm dangerous and I'm going to win and GAY SEX!

Archer: So, are you two even really gay!?
Charles: As big ol' tangerines, yes.

Archer: How do you say "The Hulk" in Spanish?
Ramone: "El Hulk".
Archer: Gay.
Ramone: What? We don't have a word for "Hulk".
Archer: Do you have a word for "gay"?
Ramone: Gay.
Archer: Gayer! Jesus, Spanish! Our jobs aren't enough; now you gotta take our words?

Archer: [Stifling laughter] Woodhouse: he's all tied up somewhere, sc-scared and alone. PROBABLY DEHYDRATED!

Skorpio [1.6]Edit

Archer: Cyril, c'mon. Worst case scenario, her cover got blown and Skorpio's raping her senseless before he chops her battered corpse up into fish food.
[Everyone gasps]
Archer: What? I said worst case.

Pam: You know, I think we're making some real progress.
Cheryl: Where, in opposite world? We're never gonna finish all this!
Pam: We could, if certain people would help!
Krieger: [Standing behind stacked cardboard boxes] I'm sorry, are you addressing me? Because your authority is not recognized in Fort Kickass.

Cyril: I moved in with my last girlfriend after four weeks!
Lana: What are you? A lesbian?
Pam: Why, would you be into that? Just curious... which was an odd word choice right there... and am I talking out loud...?

Pam: And that's the reason I never have sex with my coworkers. That... and no one ever lets me.
Krieger: I've had good results with ether.

Krieger: Every single noun and verb in that sentence totally arouses me.
Pam: And I'm so open to that.

Krieger: Damn ass-hammered shit!
Cheryl: What?
Krieger: Benefits! I forgot to spend the balance in my goddamn flex account!
Pam: Are you "date-of-employment", or...?
Cheryl: Ouch.
Cyril: Well, that's just leaving money on the table. How could you forget that?
Krieger: I guess I was busy fantasizing Archer and Lana having intercourse!

Malory: But even though Cyril may be clingy...
Lana: Oh, Saran Wrap could take a lesson.

Archer: [After being distracted by Lana in her underwear] Right, because you walked into Strippers Discount Warehouse and said, 'Help me showcase my intellect'!
Lana: Strippers Discount? Hel-LO! These-are-Fiacchi!
Archer: I think it's pronounced, 'Knock-off'!

Skytanic [1.7]Edit

Malory: Oh, shut up. And Cyril? Very eager to know why you're still here.
Lana: He was just-
Cyril: -just helping Lana get settled!
Archer: Trust me, Cyril, she already settled.

Cheryl: Pick one. Either A, I tell Lana what happened on that scratchy green office rug, or two, you get inside me.
Cyril: Or C, maybe I just jam this mop into the engine and kill all of us.
Cheryl: I don't think that's how blimps work.
Cyril: Darn! Right, we just sort of float around. Stupid, naturally safe helium.
Cheryl: But I am liking the jamming imagery... [She rips open her shirt] and the killing.
Cyril: [To Pam, who's sitting nearby] And you are just going to sit there?
Pam: Yeah, until she tags me in!

Pam: So, you're ruining Cyril's life because, in your dream-the-impossible-dream world, it'll make Mr. Archer jealous?
Cheryl: Oh, Pamela, you read me like a poem.
Pam: Yeah? What's the poem gonna be about when Cyril snaps and murders you?
Cheryl: I don't know. World's gushiest orgasm?

Archer: Lana. Lana. LANA. LANAAAAAAAA!!!
Lana: WHAT?!?
Archer: Heh heh. Danger Zooooone.

Lana: Cyril is already freaked out enough about us sharing this shoebox without you air-drying your unkempt bush.
Archer: Unkempt bush!? You're one to talk.
Lana: My vulva is smoother than a veal cutlet!

Lana: What would you say if I told you your mother made a phony bomb threat just to get a free ride on a blimp?
Archer: I’d say that’s fairly classic her.

Lana: CAP-tain LAM-mers!
Archer: Nice read, Velma.

Malory: You're driving Cyril straight toward another woman.
Lana: Cyril? With another woman? Malory, seriously. Look at me.
[Cut to Cheryl in bed, with Cyril on top on her, having sex, with Cyril choking Cheryl]
Cheryl: Look at me! Look at and choke me! Oh, yes! Yes! Oh my God yes!
Cyril: Oh, my God, what am I doing?
Pam: [on the toilet in the open bathroom] You're ruining your life, you idiot! And making it hard to drop a deuce.

Pam: Wow, you are just a dog in a manger.
Cheryl: I don't know what that means, Pam. I didn't grow up on a cheese farm.
Pam: Oh, for the— It's called a dairy.

[Malory and Pam are standing over an unconscious Cheryl]
Pam: Cyril got in over his head and…
Malory: Jesus God, did he kill her?!
Pam: No. He ran from her, to go confess to Lana. But then this one starts freaking out and…I kinda had to drown her in the tub.
Malory: So you killed her?
[Cheryl comes to, coughs up water and passes out again]
Pam: Apparently not. So…good news.

[Lana finds Archer running away from the bomb]
Lana: Where the fuck are you going?!
Archer: To get my turtleneck! I'm not defusing a bomb in this.

Captain Lammers: The stock price could only go up, they said. Well guess what?
Archer: Uh…it didn't?

Cyril: [Wearing a small purple robe] Help me, Archer! I think I'm losing it here!
Archer: Yeah, what gave it away, my mothers ro-WHY ARE YOU IN MY MOTHER'S ROBE?!
Cyril: I can explain this!
Archer: I don't think I want you to.

Archer: There's your bomber: Beardsley McTurbanhead.

Pam: God damn it! We're moving!
Cheryl: I know!
Pam: What happened to half an hour?!
Cheryl: I lied!

The Rock [1.8]Edit

[Cheryl walks in to find Cyril with his hand over Pam’s mouth]
Cheryl: Cyril! Are you cheating on me?
Cyril: No. I'm just... uh... trying to get my muffin back.
Cheryl: No you're not!
Cyril: I'm not?
Cheryl: Not like that, you're not. You gotta slug her in the diaphragm with a forearm shiver.
Cyril: That's... ah... good to know.
Cheryl: Do it! [Cyril slams Pam in the gut. She collapses and vomits on the floor] And no muffin. See? Time lost is muffin lost.

Lana: What are you doing back there?
Archer: I don't know!
Lana: What, are you just hitting random keys?
Archer: Well, obviously!

[Lana and Archer are trying to equip for their mission while all the "Drones" are on strike]
Lana: Yes, we need a code cloner! Duh!
[Archer appears, wearing night-vision goggles and carrying shovels]
Archer: These were all I could find. I'm thinking: goggles, yes; shovels, I don't know how or why we'd use them.

Lana: [To Malory] So as you can see, we are completely unprepared for this mission!
Archer: [Wearing night-vision goggles and holding a shovel] Unless it involves night-shoveling.

Archer: Cyril. Cyril! CYRIL!
Cyril: What?!
Archer: I'm rescuing Lana, as usual!
Cyril: Hey, shut up!

Cheryl: I love that you know how to do that.
Krieger: And I love that I have an erection... that doesn't involve homeless people.

Archer: Frickin' ODIN.
Lana: How many are there?
Archer: About a gillion.
Lana: Dammit.
Archer: A gillion gay, little copy-cats.
Lana: What?
Archer: I didn't invent the turtleneck, Lana. But I was the first to see its potential as a tactical garment. The Tactical Turtleneck, Lana. The... Tactleneck!

Pam: Holy shit, you geeks are badass.

Job Offer [1.9]Edit

Lana: We'll never catch him in this thing!
Archer: Maybe you should've thought about that before you blew the damn drop!
Lana: I blew jack shit!
Archer: Name dropper.

Archer: ODIN doesn't beat Sterling Archer! Only Sterling Archer beats... [He trails off as he realizes he's lost the target.]
Lana: Do you wanna finish that thought?
Archer: Do you wanna shut your big, fat, negative-wordsy mouth?!

Barry: You'll know where to find us.
Archer: Oh yeah? And where's that? Uh...Dicktown?

Trexler: [after Archer hits a polo ball out the window] God, you're a natural! Bet it's all that lacrosse at boarding school, no doubt.
Archer: Yeah, 13 years' worth.
Trexler: 13 years?! What, did she ship you off in kindergarten?! Gosh, that must've been tough.
Archer: No, I loved it. Uh... made a lot of good friends. [Quick cutaway to a young Archer sitting alone on the lacrosse field] Family, almost, is what they were.
Trexler: Speaking of, how's your mother taking all this?
Archer: Oh, please. I bet she doesn't even miss me.
[Cut to ISIS]
Malory: [drunk on absinthe] Because he'll be back, crying for his mommy! Just like that Christmas break when I moved and forgot to give my new address to his stupid boarding school. [Cheryl gasps.] I mean, he rode the train into the city all by himself. He couldn't pick up a phone book? Nine years old, and bawling in that police station like a little girl! What's that tell you?
Cheryl: Kind of a lot, actually.
Malory: Oh, shut up. I bet you're barren.

Malory: I don't care if he's happy!
Trexler: Well, that's obvious.
Malory: Meaning what exactly?!
Trexler: Meaning who leaves a nine-year-old in a police station on Christmas?!
Malory: Eve! And he told you about that?
Trexler: Oh, we've had such great talks.
Malory: Fire him!
Trexler: Join him! Come work for me.
Malory: Have you lost your mind?!
Trexler: Every time I see you.
Malory: Fire him.
Trexler: Can't do it.
Malory: Can't or won't?
Trexler: Either?

Lana: No, as a matter of fact, I don't have Barry on speed-dial.
Cyril: Well, gee, that's rather surprising.
Lana: You know what's surprising? Kissing you goodbye at the airport, dozing off in first class, and then seeing you on my flight when I get up to pee! That, to me, is rather surprising.
Cyril: And really expensive, turns out.

Lana: No! Baby, I am putting you in the corner.

Lana: Telex. You got one in here?
Archer: Why? So you can smash that too?
Lana: No.
Archer: [Talking over Lana] Because I'm pretty sure I'm financially responsible for the furnishings!

Archer: Mother burned me?
Lana: Apparently.
Archer: Oh, my god, that's classic her.
Lana: You're both classic her.

Pam: Looks like Jonestown in here.
Malory: Yes, Pam, get me some poison, because I am already dead inside.
Pam: Too dead inside to read good news?
Malory: Is it my obituary?
Pam: Well, it's not that good.

Malory: And?
Pam: And…
Malory: And are you going to loom over me all day, like some sort of… henge?

Archer: Let's talk this out.
Lana: Talk what out?! How you ruined my chance to work for ODIN?! Or—ooh!—maybe how I just caught my boyfriend balls deep in some French chick!
Archer: Ex-boyfriend, I bet.
Lana: Oh, you think?!
Archer: Yeah, he's not coming back. That chick was, like, the Pelé of anal.

Archer: [To Lana] Oh, OK! Then I guess just pout!

Dial M for Mother [1.10]Edit

Cyril: You've cheated on Lana plenty.
Archer: Yeah, but with starlets, models. Oh, and one time, two actual princesses.
Pam: Two at the same time?
Archer: Yeah. They were sisters.
Pam: Sploosh!

Archer: You just destroyed my innocence!
Malory: Oh, please! That Brazilian au pair did that when you were 13.
Archer: 12!

Cheryl: I'm sorry, Krieger, but it's over. So here's all your Creedence Clearwater albums back.
Krieger: And now, a sad moon is on the rise.
Cheryl: I know, devastating. But it's not you, it's your weak womany hands.
Krieger: They're not...
Cheryl: It's like being choked by a child. Which I thought would be hot, but...
Krieger: No, wait! I'll take steroids!
Cheryl: I can't wait! I need a man now, with monster hands.

Major Jackov: [Discussing his plan to kidnap Archer] Turn him into, how you say, vole?
Russian Soldier: I think you mean mole.
Major Jackov: Ah?
Russian Soldier: Mole. Vole is also rodent but more closely related to lemming.

[Lana has learned of Cyril's multiple affairs during their relationship]
Lana: Okay, we've got the French chick, and Carol, and— anybody else, Ram-bone?
Cyril: Uh, no...
["Scatterbrain" Jane walks by the open office door]
Jane: Hi, Cyril. [laughing and coughing]
Cyril: Well...
Lana: Scatterbrain Jane?! Really?
Cyril: Well, see, she had just been diagnosed with breast cancer...
Lana: Oh right, I forgot, your dick's full of radiation and mastectomy coupons.
Cyril: Boy, you are just so determined not to be cool about this.
Lana: Yuuup.

Krieger: [as his mechanical robot hand chokes Cheryl] Oh, God! Sorry!
[He shuts the hand off]
Cheryl: What are you doing?!
Krieger: I thought you said "start slacking off."
Cheryl: Not "slacking off"!

Archer: Hey! Kidnappers! Super not in the mood for this right now!

Cyril: Why are you even here?
Ray: Hello... [holding up number to bid on sex with Lana]
Cyril: But you're gay!
Ray: Girl, please, nobody's that gay.

[After Pam is sobbing about no one in ISIS wanting to have sex with her]

Lana: [Sighs] Get on the desk.
Pam: Really?!
Lana: Yeah, come on, before I change my mind. But you CANNOT SAY A WORD.
Pam: I won't tell anybody!
Lana: No, honey, I mean during...[Takes off her belt] 'cause I'm going to pretend you're Alex Karras

Season 2Edit

Swiss Miss [2.1]Edit

Archer: I know, right? Totally McQueen!!

Archer: You seriously have to get out of here before the cops come... Or wait, what do you have in Switzerland? Some kind of pikemen?

Anka: I'm from Germany, where the age of consent is 14.
Archer: What is it, the Alabama of Europe?
Anka: In many ways, yes.

Archer: Fuck you, Switzerland.

Lana: Was that before or after you got caught fondling a teenager?
Archer: Well, obviously before; after was all gendarmes and dick stitches.

Archer: I saved her life! Go ask that dick I set on fire.

Anka: Are you insane?!
Archer: No. Just incredibly pissed off!

Anka: That's no fun, then you don't get to squirt that hot white cream all over your face!
Archer: Why aren't you with Gillette?!

A Going Concern [2.2]Edit

Cheryl: Trust me, you can't control a person's heart.
Krieger: You can with a little thing I call a deep cycle marine battery. [pause] Or LSD.
Cheryl: Is that what you've been giving me?
Krieger: ...Yes.
Cheryl: I just thought they were breath strips!

Barry: ...So don't try to do anything stupid.
Archer: I don't have to try [pause] Shit, whatever. Move. [walks away]

Cyril: These are from a doctor!
Cheryl: So? Krieger's a doctor.
Cyril: Not the medical kind!
Krieger: Not even the other kind, technically.

[Krieger demonstrates the mind control chip in a rabbit]
Archer: Freaky!
Krieger: You wanna know what's freaky? Guess what I already named that bunny.
Archer: Rabbert Klein?
Krieger: Wow. That's... actually better.
Archer: It's all yours.

Archer: [talking about a mind control chip placed in a rabbit] Can you put it in a person's brain?
Krieger: [pause] It'd suffocate...
Archer: Not the rabbit, idiot; the chip.
Krieger: Oh, yes. Absolutely.
Archer: Without killing the person?
Krieger: Oh. [pause] Maybe?

[Archer is explaining the plan using dolls on a floorplan of ISIS]
Archer: Why do we have so many damn dolls?
Pam: For sexual harassment complaints. So people can non-verbally indicate where stuff happened on their body.
Archer That takes, like, one doll!
Pam: Not if there’s ever a gang rape.
[Cheryl smiles and nods]

Archer: Cyril, better pill up; you're assisting Krieger with the surgery.
Cyril: Why me?
Archer: You're good at math.
Cyril: How's that supposed to help?
Archer: Can't hurt.

Krieger: But don't touch it. Lysergic acid can be absorbed right through the skin. Even the tip of your finger can… [Krieger accidentally touches the strip] oops.
Archer: Oh, for fuck’s sake, Krieger! You’re about to perform brain surgery!
Krieger: Yeah… So sooner’s going to be better than later.

Archer: Okay, it's over, and... you're sure you don't wanna marry that woman?
Len: Oh, God, no. You know what I want?
Archer: Tell me.
Len: Some of that lettuce?
Archer: ...Um... okay...
Len: Actually can I have all of it? And the bunny attached to it? He is attached, right? Can I have the bunny and the lettuce?
Archer: Um, can we give Lenny the rabbit?
Len: And the lettuce!
Archer: ...Sure thing. Go to town.
Len: Yeah, 'cause, you know... they're brothers.
Archer: Um. Is he always gonna be like this now because I feel bad.

Trexler: Barry, you ass, for the love of all that's green take me and Rabbert to the lettuce store.

Archer: Hey, you idiots wanna hear my plan or not? [Silence] Alright... Suggestions.
Cyril: About what?
Archer: What are we talking about... Stopping my mother from selling ISIS to ODIN!
Cyril: You said you had a plan.
Archer: My plan is to crowdsource a plan!

Blood Test [2.3]Edit

Lana: So as far as Archer is concerned, I feel like I dodged the world's most dysfunctional bullet.
Cheryl: Yeah, but Cyril was... oh wait, did he have some sort of character flaw?
[Brief shots of Lana walking in on Cyril having sex with Scatterbrain Jane, Framboise, and Cheryl (whom he is choking); Cyril is looking up and nervously saying "Hello" in each one]
Lana: Couple things...
[She lunges at Cheryl. They fight throughout the following]
Cheryl: Bring it!
Ray: Yeah, we are code blue here.
Pam: Hey. Yeah, blue! Like for baby boys.
Ray: No, I meant, like, for her face...
Cheryl: [To Lana] Choke me!
Pam: No, like for let's have a baby shower for Trinette and the wee baby Seamus.
Ray: Oh my God yes! But your place is disgusting, so where could we have it?
Pam: Well, Archer's got that bangin' pad.
Lana: [letting up on Cheryl] He'll hate that. I wanna come.
Cheryl: Ohhhhh, I think I just did.

Archer: I feel terrible.
Malory: That's because those ODIN ghouls drained a fifth of your blood!
Archer: Oh, hey, speaking of fifth...
Malory: A drink's the last thing you need!

[Archer is throwing all Woodhouse's shoes off the balcony]
Archer: Because I told you to buy lemon curd! Now what am I going to spread on my toast? Your tears?!

Trinette: Ew, what is this? Homemade salad dressing?
Dr. Krieger: Breast milk.
Trinette: Ew! I actually... have my own.
Dr. Krieger: So... you won't need this.
[Grabs jar and walks away]
Cheryl: Here, it's some plastic dry cleaner bags and a book about SIDS.
Trinette: What, what kind of shit gift is that?!
Pam: Yeah, I made mine.
Dr. Krieger: [shouting from distance] Me too!
Archer: [with Woodhouse] That's disgusting. If I wanted to look at your bare feet, Woodhouse, I'd sneak in and do it while you were asleep.
Dr. Krieger: Me too!
. . .
Trinette: [holding Seamus] Somebody's got a full diaper.
Dr. Krieger: [shouting from distance] Me too!

Krieger: Have you ever thought about having children?
Cheryl: Sometimes I think I'd like to adopt a little baby. [Pause] So I could abandon it at a mall.
Krieger: That answers my follow up question.

[Cyril is unconscious in the bathroom]
Pam: Cyril. Hey, you awake? [Undoing her belt and dropping her skirt] ‘Cause this is about to get weird.

Lana: Pam! Get off Cyril!
Pam: [Coming out of the bathroom] I was trying to get him off, Buttinski!

Pipeline Fever [2.4]Edit

Cajun guy: You should'a called first... this is the only airboat for fi'ty miles, and it reserved.
Archer: What do you mean, "Reserved"?
Cajun guy: Is that not self-explanatory?
Lana: [Offering a big stack of cash] Perhaps we can work something out.
Cajun guy: Sure, if you take that money, buy you a time machine, go back in time, and be the first person to reserve that airboat.

Archer: Thank you, certified air boat mechanic!


Archer: Burt Reynolds is my spirit guide!
Lana: Did you say "man crush"?
Archer: No, I'm pretty sure it was "shut up!"

Cheryl: [Struggling to operate the photocopier in the new “Green” ISIS] Stupid, efficient, Canadian lightbulbs. I can barely even see what I’m doing!
Pam: What are you doing?
Cheryl: [Holding up a “Found Cat” poster] I need six more of these.
Pam: Why do you need seven?
Cheryl: One for each cat. Duh.

Cyril: For god’s sake, Pam! Have you no sense of decency? That bathroom’s like a… a war crime.
Pam: Don’t blame me, it’s those new low-flow toilets! With the old ones, you could flush a dachshund puppy. [Pause] I mean, not that you would.

Josh Gray: Lana, I really like your new hairdo.
Lana: Well, if you like the collar, you're gonna love the cuffs...

Archer: That's just great. She gets dinner and Dixieland and laid. And I get mosquitoes and no beer and... not laid. How could this get any... [alligator surfaces and growls] LET ME FINISH... worse. You ruined it. You ruined the moment.

The Double Deuce [2.5]Edit

Archer: You realise you're in huge trouble?
Woodhouse: Yes, sir.
Archer: And now I have to spend my first Friday off in forever devising some bizzare punishment for you?
Woodhouse: Yes, sir.
Archer: So don't be surprised if you end up eating a whole bunch of... spiderwebs.

Archer: He might have a tiny hangover...

Pam: And how long you think this one's gonna be around?
[Indicating Cheryl/Carol, who's drinking rubber cement]
Cyril: Yeah, count me in. [to a tontine scheme].

Reggie: Good God, man, are you hourly?

Reggie: You scoundrel. Is that brandy?
Woodhouse: Oh no sir, just water.
Reggie: Water? Oh, never touched the stuff. Fish fuck in it.

Woodhouse: Then they gave me the VC and my papers... medical discharge.
Stinky: Because of the scalps.
Woodhouse: Oh for-
Archer: The what?!
Stinky: German scalps!
Archer: What?!
Stinky: Must've been fifty of 'em!
Archer: That's a lot of scalps.
Stinky: Could've made a blanket.

Archer: You want me to take a baby to a murder?
Malory: Wherever, just out of here. I have no more love left to give today.
Archer: Yeah and what is it? Two-Thirty?

Tragical History [2.6]Edit

Lana: SO GO ALREADY! Bag with which one douches.

Archer: Render the salad unto Caesar!

Pam: Frickin' head's poundin', I'm sweatin' booze and my mouth's killin' me!
Cheryl: You're the one who stuffed four pool balls in it.
Pam: Personal best!
Lana: Your mother must be SO proud.

Lana: [To Archer] What's up with your mother?
Archer: What comes after infuriated?

Cyril: So how about I take a look at it? I'm sure I could kill that pesky ol' worm.
Lana: How? You gonna disappoint it to death?

Cheryl: And now we're on the brink of World War Two.
Pam: Three.
Cheryl: It's not a competition, Pam!

Archer: It's like it's made out of Wolverine's bones.

Archer: Krieger, whose virtual girlfriend is so real that the state of New York is allowing him to legally marry her!

Malory: So how's this going?
Dr. Krieger: Not great.

Cheryl: Who am I, Elisha Otis?

Archer: Get me drunk enough and I might have sex with you.
Pam: Really?
Archer: No! Its a catch-22. The amount of alcohol it would take would literally kill me!
Pam: Dick.
Archer: But I do want to see how many pool balls you can fit in your mouth.
Pam: My record is three.

Archer: Who am I, Alan Turing?

Archer: [Spotting Spelvin's bikini-clad Asian ninja bodyguards] I'm suddenly much less angry.

[Archer is disarmed and wounded by Spelvin's bikini-clad Asian ninja bodyguards]
Archer: Damn it, Cyril! You said they were sexy!
Cyril: Ninjas are sexy!

Archer: Am I getting some signals?

Archer: Come back to me, I can do better.

Movie Star [2.7]Edit

[Pam has stolen Rona's journal]
Ray: Give me that! Little miss invasion of the privacy snatchers!
Pam: Oh, come on! Haven't you ever snooped on somebody you thought was dreamy?
Ray Gillette: No! Well, except Randy Muckler who, turns out, was just leading me on to get out of the draft. So, I made a phone call to the draft board and now who's laughing, Mr. Hooks for Hands? A booby trap blew his arms off.

Pam: So then it's settled. We're a go on Operation... what should we called it?
Cheryl: Dick Sledge.
Ray: You wanna...
Pam: No, but it's like sour milk. You just gotta take a whiff. What's the story, Neckbones?
Cheryl: Sophomore year at my stupid college, I had a huge crush on the quarterback, this super-hot guy named Dick Sledge...
Pam: Sploosh!
Ray: Jinx.
Cheryl: ...but it was like I was invisible. He wouldn't even sign my cast when I broke my own arm. But I thought if I knew what he liked, then I'd have an in, so one Saturday when he had a game, I broke into his dorm room to see what music he was into, or turtles, or roll around in his clothes or whatever, but...
Pam: You were so busy sniffing his jock, you didn't hear him come in...
Cheryl: Because he totally snuck up on me. And I guess I blacked out because I don't remember stabbing him at all.
Pam: Why'd you have a knife?!
Cheryl: I didn't! It was a stupid pair of scissors, and it was his fault for grabbing me with his throwing hand! That's how his tendon got severed!
Pam: Holy shitsnacks.
Cheryl: Yeah, they said he could've gone pro.

Malory: Why not?
Cyril: Because it's just not believable that this guy, who also can not be named Cassius, would risk his career for a woman twice his age.
Malory: So make her forty.
Cyril: Yeah, and who's gonna play her?
Malory: Me! That's the whole point!
Cyril: You do realize there's a finite supply of Vaseline in the universe.

Ray: [loading up in the armory] No, shut up, we go in, drop the journal, and get out—no snooping.
Pam: [wearing infrared goggles] Aw, come on! I just wanna see if me and her have stuff in common, like...
Cheryl: Tons of cock porn lying around?
Pam: I don't have cock porn just layin' around! But sometimes, you know, you forget it's in the VCR.
Ray: How do you forget?
Pam: You rub one out, flip back to regular TV, Superstars is on, and all of a sudden, here's Joe Frazier's dumb ass drowning, you forget it's in there! Until Mom and Dad come to visit to tell you she's got Lou Gehrig's disease.
Ray: Why would you think it's okay to share that?

Archer: Come, Kriegerbots, avenge your fallen comrade! What voice is that? Is that from Bullwinkle?

Rona: [with Lana's sniper scope] Oh my God, I can see my penthouse!
Lana: Well unless there's a sniper in it...
Rona: Well somebody's in it. Who the fuck's in my fucking penthouse?!
[In the penthouse are Ray and Pam with their hands up, and Cheryl, whose hands are behind her back]
Ray: We are! We're complying!
Cop: You! Get your fricking hands up!
Cheryl: You're not my supervisor!
Pam: Shut up, we're gonna go to prison.
Cheryl: No we're not. Say the right stuff, and they just send you to a mental hospital for ten months.
Ray: I just this second realized why you do macrame instead of knitting.
Cheryl: Yeah, no sharp objects on the ward. They were super strict about that.

Rona: These like Kung-Fu monks make this fifty foot tape, like a cloth measuring tape, but it's kelp.
Lana: Ah...
Rona: And you swallow over, like, three days and you start to, y'know, pass it. Then you just slowly, slowly pull it out of you over three more days...
Lana: Wait, what?!
Rona: It pulls all the toxins out of your body. And you just feel so clean.
Archer: [Eavesdropping] Oh yeah? While you're tangled in a half-mile of shit covered tape? ... Frickin' actresses.

Rona: Lana, hush! If you sit quietly, the toxin should wear off in, like, four hours. But if you struggle, your heart could...
Archer: [Bursting in with his gun drawn] Freeze!

Russian Soldier: [Patting the voice-changing gadget] Is my new favourite device of ever.

Stage Two [2.8]Edit

Cheryl: Do anything fun this weekend? [Malory ignores her] 'Cause I sure did. Friday night was cornhole league and
Malory: [Interrupting] If I cared what you did on a weekend I'd put a shotgun in my mouth and pull the trigger with my toes. [Malory leaves]
Cheryl: On Saturday I watched a building burn down.

Malory: Pam, those quarterly reports better be on my desk when I walk in there!
Pam: Ummm... Are you walking in there right now?

[Malory has revealed she may have breast cancer]
Krieger: My entire laboratory is at your disposal.
Malory: [Sarcastically] Thanks. I'll let you know if I need a hybrid pig-boy.
Krieger: A What?! I don't have one of those! [Cut to a shot of Krieger killing 'Pigley'] ... Anymore.

[Archer is standing over what appears to be a partly-dismantled nuclear warhead. It's emitting a green glow]
Archer: Wait, seriously don't open it?
Ray: [via Com link] Yes!
Archer: Oh. I thought you were being sarcastic.

Archer: [Holding a radioactive vial] Looking for this? Or maybe the lead container I probably should've kept it in?

Archer: Yup, Stage Two breast cancer. Yeah, I mean it's not as bad as stage three or four. But, obviously not as good as no cancer.

Archer: It's a pink ribbon, I have breast cancer.
Brett: [Laughing]' Seriously, breast cancer?
Archer: Yes.
Brett: Sure it's not lady vagina cancer?
Archer: [Laughing weakly] Excuse me.
[He leaps on Brett and starts punching him.]
Archer: [Between punches] I'm trying... to stay positive... both mentally... and spiritually... Brett!
Cyril: Well he certainly doesn't have cancer in his fists.
Ray: Nah, he's beatin' his ass.

Archer: [To Woodhouse] Macrobiotic food. Find out what that is and start cooking it.

Malory: [seriously drunk without eating all day] If I don't get something to eat, I'm literally going to die.

Cyril: I spent last night in the tombs, getting worked over by the cops!
Ray: Fun! ... Oh, you mean literally.

Cheryl: [In the waiting room] Oh my god! how much Cancer was in him? This is so boring and forever-taking.

Placebo Effect [2.9]Edit

Archer: Wow, what a pussy. I could barely even keep up, he was spilling the beans so fast.
Lana: Well, you threatened to shove a knife up his dick hole. Which, again, ick.
Archer: Well excuse me, Lana. It's a rampage.

Archer: Don't you worry, Ruth... I'm gonna make them pay for it.
Malory: What are you—? Sterling, No! You're not well. What are you going to do?
Archer: Cry havoc and let slip the hogs of war!
Lana: Dogs of war...
Archer: Whatever farm animal of war, Lana! Shut up!

[Inside the Irish mob's warehouse, Archer has tied up three mobsters and written "Irish" on the wall above them]
Mobster 1: You don't know who you're messin' with, boyo. Do ya have any idea who our boss is?
Archer: [Placing shells in a sawed-off shotgun] Nope, but a hundred people surveyed, number one answer's on the board...
[Archer cocks the shotgun and puts it up to the mobster's knee]
Archer: Name the douchebag who's in charge!
Mobster 1: Vincent... Van Go-fuck-yourself.
Archer: Vincent Van Go-fuck-myself. Survey says! [Blows his kneecap off]
Mobster 3: Oh, Christ!
Lana: JESUS! Archer!
Archer: What, Lana!? I said it was a rampage!
Lana: Still, though!
Mobster 1: Uurgh, you son of a hoor!
Archer: Save it for the fast-money round, Paddy! [Moves on to second mobster] Hundred people surveyed, number one answer's still on the board, name the douchebag who's in charge!
[The second mobster doesn't speak]
Archer: [Imitating buzzer] Eh-Eh! Need an answer!
[The second mobster spits in Archer's face]
Archer: Hmm, cock-flavored spit. Well, you never know what's gonna be on the board. Lemme see cock-flavored spit! [Blows the second mobster's kneecap off] That's two strikes!
[Camera pans out to reveal three Latino janitors tied up with "Jañitoros" written on the wall above them]
Archer: One more and the innocent Honduran janitors get a chance to steal the bank! [To Hondurans] I'm just gonna assume you guys don't actually know what goes on here. I hope that doesn't sound racist. [Moves on to the third mobster] Okay, kid...
Lana: He is a kid, Archer!
Archer: LANA! You're in the isolation booth! [To young mobster] Looking for the douchebag who's-!
Mobster 1: Mikey Hannity... you say one word and I'll cut your yellow heart right out!
Archer: [Makes buzzer noise again] Eh-Eh! [Shoots first mobster, killing him]
Mikey: Oh, Christ!
Archer: Mikey, you gotta listen to me, buddy...I have breast cancer.
Mobster 2: [Laughing] Breast cancer!?
Archer: [Shoots second mobster, killing him as well] So you'll forgive my impatience because I, and a lot of other people, have been trying to fight cancer with your boss's fake chemo drugs.
Mikey: CHEMO? They just told me it was cream for male pattern baldness!
Archer: [Loading shells into his shotgun] Do I look like I need bald guy cream?
Mikey: No, no, I-!
Archer: Mikey, I can barely get a comb through this! It's so thick my barber charges me double! I love my hair. [Cocks shotgun] As I'm sure you love your kneecaps.
Mikey: Franny Delaney! He runs everything out here in Brooklyn! Numbers, protection, dope, prostitution-!
Archer: Victimless crimes, Mikey! Tell me about the counterfeit chemo drugs!
Mikey: They make the pharmacist buy the real stuff! Delaney sells it to...I swear I don't know who! But they switch it with the fake stuff here! [Looks toward Hondurans] And those pricks do all the packing!
Archer: [To Hondurans] Wh-you guys are in on this? And I was worried about sounding racist!
Lana: Were you?
Mikey: Ah, they don't know what goes on here! They can't even read English! All those dirty beaners care about is taking American jobs!
Archer: Hey, relax, Hannity! It wasn't that long ago that everybody hated [Pokes Mikey in the chest with the shotgun] the IRISH for swarming here in their potato boats and taking all the jobs!
Mikey: Yeah, but-wait, what?
Archer: And I'm pretty sure, [To Hondurans] and guys, feel free to correct me, that beaner is a pejorative term for a Mexican? Esta correcto o nao?
[The Hondurans remain silent, obviously, as they are gagged]
Archer: [Putting away shotgun] Huh. Thought there'd be a little more overlap with the Portuguese.
Lana: Well, plus, they're gagged.
Archer: Still, though. [Picks up an IV drip, then looks to Mikey] And third, is this the real stuff?
Mikey: Yeah, this is all real. Why?
Archer: [Holds the needle end of the drip] Because I'm way behind on my treatment.
Lana: Wait, Archer, what are you doing?
Archer: I'm sorry, Lana, did I mention I have cancer?
Lana: I know, but... now? In mid... rampage? You really think that's a good idea?
Archer: [Sarcastically] Hmmm, let me see... to take my prescribed chemotherapy for my said, aforementioned cancer? Yes, idiot, I do!

Archer: What have I been doing?
Lana: Chain-smoking joints the size of tampons!
Archer: Ew!
Lana: Figure of speech.
Archer: Still, though.
Lana: Are you not rampaging? I thought you were rampaging.

Cyril: Krieger's father was a Nazi scientist!
Malory: And JFK's father was a bootlegger.
Cyril: That's like comparing apples to... Nazi oranges!
Malory: Oranges, exactly! Do you like powdered orange breakfast drink?
Cyril: No, not really.
Malory: How about microwave ovens, Neil Armstrong, hook-and-loop fasteners?
Cyril: OK, you lost me...
Malory: None of those things would have been possible without the Nazi scientists we brought back after World War II.
Cyril: The Nazis invented Neil Armstrong?
Malory: Rockets! Which put him on the moon. After the war ended, we were snatching up kraut scientists like hotcakes. You don't believe me? walk into NASA sometime and yell "Heil Hitler!" WOOP! They all jump straight up!

El Secuestro [2.10]Edit

Pam: And then he was like—
Cheryl: "You're a moped."
Pam: How'd you know? And what's it mean, anyway?
Cheryl: Mopeds are fun but you don't want your buddies to see you riding one.
Pam: Oh... I thought he meant I was fuel efficient. Only had ten beers.
Cheryl: Forties?
Pam: No... yes. Hence the shandy!

Cheryl: I spent, like, every summer there listening to my creepy great-grandmother bitch about Abraham Lincoln. Apparently slavery was pretty awesome.
Malory: Prove it.
Archer: What's to prove? It's free labor.

Malory: Why would anyone want to kidnap you?
Cheryl: Because my last name isn't Gimple, like it says on my W-4. It's Tunt.
Archer: Tum again?

Lana: [looking out the window of Cheryl's mansion] Is... that...
Cheryl: [rolling her eyes] Yesss...
Lana: The Roosevelt Mansion?!
Cheryl: Total shitbox, they're weird.

[Growling sound is heard. Archer and Lana pull out their guns]

Lana: What the-?
Archer: What the hell is that?
Cheryl: Ugh, my stupid ocelot.
Archer: [Leaves, excited] I've never seen an ocelot!
Malory: Uh, Cheryl, dear, I don't quite know how to put this, but-
Archer: [OC] Holy shit! You guys, look at its little spots!
Malory: How much are you-
Archer: Look at its tufted ears!
Malory: Worth?

[A kidnapper punches Pam in the face]
Pam: Who taught you how to punch? [Spits] Your husband?

[Archer is talking to the kidnappers]
Archer: How long do I need to keep them on?
Ray: Two minutes.
Lana: What?!
Archer: What happened to thirty seconds?!
Ray: Uh, your mother's budget priorities?!

Kidnapper: You idiots! This isn't Cheryl Tunt!
Pam: That's what I've been tryin' to tell ya. Between this little gal's love-taps— [Kidnapper hits Pam in the face] Seriously, maybe see if your daddy'll give you a roll of nickels.

Pam: Screw them! Especially Cheryl; I hope you kidnap the shit out of her.

Cheryl: It’s crazy stupid boring in here!
Archer: Well, now you know how Babou feels.
Cheryl: ...Crepuscular?

Lana: Archer and Ray had to leave through the garage.
Malory: Well, they're not dumb enough to leave the door wide open... are they?
[Cut to garage]
Archer: Yes!
Ray: Why?!
Archer: Because you're just wearing it to piss me off!
Ray: Is it working?
Archer: Yes, so take it off! We look totally gay!
Ray: I am gay.
Archer: Well, I'm not!
Ray: Then why are you wearing that turtleneck?

Kidnapper: Thanks for getting us inside, Pam. [beat] Someone shoot her.
Pam: Oh, OK, then good luck with all the biometric scanners. Unless you wanna cut off my fingers and scoop out my retinas. [Pause] Oh, don't be dicks!

[Pam's using a retina scanner]
Kidnapper: Would you hurry up?!
Pam: Hey, I'm not the one smashed my eyes into eggplants! Nutsack!

Cheryl: I didn't kidnap myself, he did! [points at Cyril]
Cyril: Who, me?! No! No, I've been up here the whole time, having some phone sex! Just jackin' it...on the telephone.
Archer: Um, does internet porn know you're cheating on it?

[Archer is behind Cheryl, who is screaming]
Archer: Shut up! That vest is bullet-proof!
Cheryl: Oh. [gets shot in the arm] OW!
Archer: But it is, y'know, a vest.

Pam: [To Malory] And you! The worst of the bunch!
Malory: Me? Why me?
Pam: Five thousand measly dollars?!
Malory: Y'know, maybe I low-balled him at first... But I had some wiggle room.
Pam: Yeah? Well let's see how much you wiggle when I'm whupping five thousand buck's worth of your ass.

Jeu Monegasque [2.11]Edit

Malory: I don't care if it's a Wehrmacht reunion party, this isn't my first Grand Prix you know.

Ray: Voila!
Malory: No! I am not sharing a room with you!
Ray: No, I'm sharing it with you, and it's the last one in the hotel. No view, but it has two queens.
Malory: Where's the other one? Greasing up in the bathroom?
Ray: Hey! You know what?
Lana: Ray, this is fine, two of us will just have to double up...
Malory: Exactly, two of you.
Ray: Exsqueeze me?

Malory: Oh don't worry. He may be a vain, selfish, lying, and quite possibly alcoholic man-whore, but gambling is one vice Sterling doesn't have.
Archer: Uh, I guess it's cause he's doing all that other awesome stuff, thanks mother.

Malory: Why isn't there a metal briefcase full of bearer-bonds handcuffed to your drinking arm?!
Archer: Uh, [Raises his glass] pretty sure you just answered your own question.

Lana: Why would she pay four millions dollars for unverified information?
Ray: Well, either she’s getting Alzheimer’s…
Archer: Hey.
Ray: Or it’s another sex-tape.
Archer: HEY! [pause] Actually, that would not surprise me.

Various: Benoit...
Archer: Balls.

Archer: I have a plan to get the money back. [See's Ray carrying a bag of toiletries] That doesn't include you taking my hotel toiletries!
Ray: You're not using them.
Archer: Yes, I am.
Ray: Go look at your pores then tell me you're using them. Then tell me your little genius plan.
Archer: Rob the casino.
Ray: Thanks for the lotion.

Archer: Lana, what are you mad at me for? Mother took your 401(k). All I did was foolishly gamble it all away.
Ray: ...He does have a point.

Benoit: Impossible, madam: all my bellhops have been taken prisoner by the Wehrmacht.

Archer: There's a zoo here?

Pam: ...And some blow jobs... I mean, printers.

Archer: He's headed for the coast road!
Ray: Thanks Captain Obvious!

Lana: What the hell are you doing?!
Archer: Shooting at his tires so he loses control and drives off the cliff!
Lana: With the bearer bonds!
Archer: Yes, Lana, with the... Dammit!

Benoit: I can't see, you fool; get off!
Archer: I am getting off, I love this.

White Nights [2.12]Edit

Pilot: [sigh] What an asshole...

Russian: What an asshole...

Malory: Pam!
Pam: [From outside office] I'm not eavesdropping...
Malory: Get your bloated carcass in here!
Pam: [Entering] Whattup?
Malory: You filthy sneak! You've been going through my desk?
Pam: OK, A: No-one cares about your big knobbly vibrating eggplant. B: Sometimes I work late and C: There's this new thing all the kids are doing called Shutting the Damn Door!

Malory: And then I put whipped cream over everything and you know where this goes...

Lana: Undercover?
Malory: Of course undercover!
Lana: As what? Russia's only black woman?

Malory: You're still together?
Barry: Ex-fiance, thats what I meant to say.
Malory: Well, then it wasn't meant to be.
Barry: [nervous chuckle] I don't even know... how to respond to that.

Lana: Ohh but he's such a douche bag...
Malory: I know dear, but he's also my son.
Lana: Not Archer. Well, also very much Archer. But I'm talking about Barry.
Barry: Who is in-fact sitting right here. Do you wanna... do it on the desk or... in the hallway? Where you wanna knock this out?

Barry: Lesson one—
Archer: Don't "lesson one" me, Barry.

Barry: According to ODIN's guy in the KGB. Which, as a real agency, we have.
Malory: We've got guys in the KGB too, smarty.
Barry: Yeah. So I hear.
Malory: How did... Pam!
Pam: [From outside office] I'm still not eavesdropping!

Archer: So Barry, looks like the whole "find out who my father is" thing isn't happening and so now I just want to get outta here so I'm thinking that we probably should split up.
Barry: [nervous] No, no, no! No please! A-Archer, your boots are slipping, man!
Archer: Probably because there's 200 pounds of asshole hanging off them.
Barry: 183, Fatboy!
Archer: Whatever, tell that to my silk socks.
Barry: Why are you wearing silk socks?
Archer: [beat] is that a joke?
Barry: Archer, let-let me climb up you! No! Please! Archer, Don't!
Archer: Barry. Barry, buddy, this is happening.
Barry: Archer, no!
Archer: so, try to aim for that dumpster.
Barry: [falls from Archer's lower half, taking his shoes and socks with him] Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhaaa!!!
Archer: Bye, Barry. Dead center. Good work, Barry. [angry] Oh, for... Why don't you just go to my house and take all my clothes!?

Archer: Piece of—! How are you a super power!?

Archer: Oh that is bullshit! Who would break into this shit hole!?

Russian: Come on, we don't have all night.
Archer: Yeah right, like you've got plans.
Russian: Goodbye, Mr. Archer.
Archer: Hey. Fuck you, you douche bag.

Double Trouble [2.13]Edit

Archer: [sounding like Cyril] Hello...
Malory: What in the name of prepaid venereal disease do you think you're doing?
Archer: I... uh...
Katya: Darling, I know she is old, but you allow such talk from your secretary?

Malory: And don't you want to freshen up after your long ride?
Archer: Phrasing, Mother!

Dr. Krieger: Almost as cool as my van.

Pam: This deuce aint gonna drop itself!
Archer: You realise I can never unhear that? … Why are you crying?
Pam: Because I got ripped in a bar last night and I was trying to beat my record for cramming pool balls in my mouth when some a-hole slaps me on the back and…
Archer: No! You swallowed a pool ball?
Pam: I wish just one. And I’ve still got two to go, so if you don’t mind. [Closes door]
Archer: Pam, wait! I had something… what was it? … Uh, something about stripes and solids.

Russian: If I tell you all at once, your head might explode... Along with comb over.

Archer: It's ok, it was just cancer sex.

Archer: So you! [Smack] Can you hack into the KGB servers?
Bilbo: pfft... Does one ring rule them all?

Ray: For God's sake woman, are you hearing yourself? He's your son, not a...
Lana: Ray, she got him to quit drinking...
Ray: [Lifts guns] So what's the plan?

Archer: Wait, does Canada even have a spy agency?
Katya: Yes, but...
Archer: Wha— why? Haha, it's Canada.

Major Jackov: So, Comrade Bionic Barry, can you solve my Kasnova problem?
Barry: Yeah, probably. If I knew and/or cared what that was. But since I don’t and/or do not, I’m going to kill and/or murder Sterling Archer.

Malory: I swear, if any one saw me in this awful van.
Lana: How could they with this illegal ass window tint. Dude, this van is like, rolling probable cause.
Malory: So all ashore from the S.S. Date Rape.
Ray: Toot toot.

Archer: Is anybody hit? Not really the explosive climax I thought it was gonna be.
Ray: Is nobody gonna touch that? Seriously?

Ray: Yeah, it is the first thing they'd do. It's like, counter-intelligence 101.

Ray: How 'bout a disgraced former minister. Long story, kinda boring, but I am still licensed by the state to perform marriages, the irony of which is not lost on me.

Archer: [To Barry] How are you not dead?
Barry: The Russians turned me into the unholy abomination of metal fused with flesh that now stands before you.

Archer: [While being choked by Barry] Wow, Barry, you're like super-strong!
Barry: Yeah, did I mention I'm a cyborg?

Barry: What part of "I'm a cyborg" are you people still not getting?
Archer: The core concept, I guess.

Barry: YEAH! One for three off the roof, Bitch! WOO!

Season 3Edit

Heart of Archness: Part I [3.1]Edit

Malory: FOR THREE MONTHS! Sterling has been missing for three months and you idiots have not been able to find him!
Ray: Well, name-calling is not going to get us- [Malory lets out a long sentence full of profanity, all covered by a long *Bleep*]...anywhere.

Pam: What a hunk
Cheryl: Total sploosh.
Lana: Yeah, gotta give him a sploosh.
Ray: And whatever my equivalent of sploosh is. Which I guess is just sploosh. Only with semen.

Archer: I didn't run away from home, I'm a grown man, whose fiancée was murdered before his very eyes. So excuse me for needing some time to grieve.
Rip: By tending bar and banging newly weds?
Archer: Apparently that's my grieving process.

Archer: A ruse? Hi, it's the 1930s. Can we have our words and clothes and shitty airplane back?
Rip: Let's go, kid.
Archer: Call you back, 1930s. And, hey, watch out for that Adolf Hitler. He's a bad egg.

Malory: But if the emergency beacon is going off -- oh my God, their plane crashed!
Cheryl: (gasps) I said that would happen and it did! What if I have psycho-kinetic powers?!
Pam: I dunno, just try to only use em for good.

Pirate Captain: What a hell, dumb guy?

Rip: You just killed like ten pirates.
Archer: Wow, if the five year old me knew that, he'd get a huge boner.

Heart of Archness: Part II [3.2]Edit

Archer: Noah, I'm half drunk and slathered in every bodily fluid there is... so yeah... this is about as Pirate Kingy as I'm going to get so brief away... Noah... Good Morning.

Heart of Archness: Part III [3.3]Edit

Noah: Can I just run up to my hovel real quick and get the only extant copy of my dissertation?
Archer: Noah, I've still got four bullets.
Noah: Oh God! Do you know what ‘extant’ means?!
Archer: Do you know what ‘License to kill’ means?
Noah: … I’ll write another one.
Archer: The world holds its breath.

Lana: What's your blood type?
Archer: How should I know?
Lana: How could you NOT know?
Archer: Who am I, Karl Landsteiner? Discoverer of blood groups?
Lana:: So you don't know your own blood type, but you know who discovered them?
Archer: Now...

[Archer’s team have just lost a pub quiz, thanks to Pam]
Archer: Your exact words, Pam: “Dr. Charles Drew or I will eat a bag of dicks”!
Pam: [Belch] Bring ‘em!

Bucky: You will never make it to the helicopter. My men will cut you down like dogs!
Archer: Thanks, Human Shield.

Lana: (while shooting at pirates) AAAHHHH!!!!! GET SOME, YOU SONS OF BITCHES! SUCK IT!

The Man from Jupiter [3.4]Edit

Cheryl: BUUUURT REYNOLDS! IS ON LINE ONNNNNEEEE!!!!...for you, for some reason.

Malory: And just how long has he been your hero?
Archer: Since always!
[Scene cuts to a flashback where a younger Archer is dressed as the Bandit, running around in a cardboard box with markings like the Trans Am in the movie Smokey and the Bandit]
Archer: [Singing] Eastbound and dowwwwwn!
[Scene cuts back to Archer and Malory]
Malory: I thought that was Richard Petty.
Archer: Which doesn't even merit a response.

[Pam and Cheryl are looking at pictures of Burt Reynolds online]
Pam: I swear to god, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now! … Not that you would.

Malory: [To Cheryl] I swear, if you throw that computer on the floor one more time, you’ll wake up in a mental ward with total amnesia under someone else’s name!
Pam: That's actually kinda scary.
Cheryl: Nah. Wouldn't be the first time.

[Burt and Archer are going down an elevator that is taking a long time to get down]
Burt Reynolds: ...You're kidding me.
Archer: I know, it's like, the world's slowest elevator.
Burt Reynolds: ...Why don't you get a bat-pole?
Archer: Nine thousand bucks.
Burt Reynolds: What?
Archer: Lowest quote I got.
Burt Reynolds: Well, that's ridiculous.
Archer: I know. It's just basically putting a pole where the garbage chute is, but all the co-op people were like, "But what are we going to do with all the garbage?"
Burt Reynolds: Well, you just dump the garbage down the same chute. Then you will have a pile of garbage to land on.
Archer: Yeah, if you're coming in hot, I know, it's a win-win.
Burt Reynolds: Plus, you were going to pay for it yourself. No assessment or anything.
Archer: Exactly.
Burt Reynolds: ...Ridiculous.
Archer: Preaching to the choir, pal.

Burt Reynolds: That's not your car?
Archer: Yeah. What?
Burt Reynolds: Nothing... I just didn't know they sold those to men.
Archer: Sure, laugh it up, Burt.
Burt Reynolds: I am.

[Burt Reynolds does a stunt during a car chase that causes a police car to land ontop of another]
Archer: HOLY SHIT! Burt Reynolds!
Burt Reynolds: Hey, pay attention and you might learn something.
Archer: I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of my giant, throbbing erection!
[Burt slams on the brakes, causing Archer to fall forward and hit his nose the dashboard. He comes back up holding his nose]
Burt Reynolds: How about now?
Archer: It's gone. I'm all ears.

Cheryl: That Burt Reynolds is so freaking awesome!
Archer: Yeah, he... kinda is.
Pam: After this, I am going to go home, watch Hooper and masturbate until my fingers bleed.
[Cheryl and Archer stare at her]
Cheryl: Just tape them up!

El Contador [3.5]Edit

Malory: Anyway, effective immediately, I'm promoting Cyril to field agent.
Lana, Ray, and Cyril: [simultaneously] What?!
Archer: Hey, that sounds great. Best of luck. [turns to leave]
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!

Ray: You're taking me out of the field?
Malory: Well, unless we need someone to go undercover as a shopping cart...

Malory: If you were in my tax bracket, you wouldn't be shouting such socialist propaganda.
Archer: Or wearing such shitty clothes.

Archer: [On Cyril being a field agent] The last time I tried to train him resulted in a dead hooker in my trunk!
Cyril: There was no dead hooker.
Archer: There easily could have been!

Lana: Heckle , Jeckle, between us and Calzado's fortified compound, there's about ten klicks of jungle that I just assume is one giant booby-trap showroom. So shut your dick-holes, grab your gear, shut up again and start walking. Any questions? [Cyril raises his hand] Cyril?
Cyril: What's a klick?

Archer: Well, look on the bright side.
Lana: Which is?
Archer: Which is what?
Lana: You just said look on the bright side.
Archer: It's a figure of speech.

Lana: You're looking for Predator, aren't you?
Archer: ...Yes.
Lana: [sighs] Couple things. A, he's invisible.
Archer: Not totally, he has a tell-tale shimmer.

Cheryl: If this doesn't work, we just paid a hundred bucks for liquid fart.
Pam: Yeah, well, here's shit in your eye.
[The three toast their mugs and drink the "herbal tea"]
Ray: Oh God, it tastes worse than it smells!
Pam: Man, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a guy say that... [brightly] I'd have eight nickels!

Cheryl: [vomiting in a toilet] Oh, my God. I'm gonna die in a toilet stall, just like the gypsy said!
Pam: Damn that Krieger! Nazi clone bastard!

Calzado: Tomorrow I will be hunting the most dangerous game in the world.
Archer: Jai alai?

Lana: Well, go ahead and say it.
Archer: What?
Lana: That since we are going to die tomorrow, we should have sex.
Archer: Are you kidding? After seeing a tiger get murdered? Lana, I'm not in the mood! ...I mean, if you want to, I can watch while you masturbate, but just so you know, my heart's not going to be into it. It's going to be with that tiger's family... But, you know... go ahead and start.

Lana: [As she and Archer try to run away] Go, go, go— [Archer grabs her shirt and pulls her back to the ground as he runs away] AH! Are you really that selfish?!
Archer: Apparently!

Archer: AGH! Eat a dick, jungle! Cover it with malaria and leeches, sprinkle some dengue fever on it, and EAT A BIG GODDAMN JUNGLEY DICK!

Archer: For a second there I thought you were a crocodile on a three wheeler.
Calzado: Crocodiles on a three wheeler?
Archer: Right, how scary would that be?

Calzado: What the hell, damn guy?!

Archer: Speaking of excellence, did you hear we met a tiger? But... he was murdered.

The Limited [3.6]Edit

Archer: I've always wanted to fight on top of a moving train.
Bilko: Well, if I know my boys, you might get your chance, big guy.
Archer: Thanks, Freddy Foreshadowing.

Cheryl: My great-grandfather was nuts for skating. That and the Klan.

Malory: Have the porter bring me a cobb salad.
Lana: Before or after we capture the dangerous terrorist?
Malory: Before.

Archer: I'm looking for a terrorist and an ocelot!

Kenny Bilko: [on the phone] Alright boys, these ISIS bastards are serious, they just shot a black guy. [waits for a response] I know right?! Welcome to America!

Archer: Get 'em up, Dudley Douche-bag!

Lana: Please tell me that's a smoke grenade.
Archer: Okay... it's not though.

Archer: [Describing an ocelot's paw-prints] They look just like a house-cat's, but bigger and awesomer.

Archer: [to Babou the ocelot while handcuffed in a police car] They called you exotic. Which is just people talk for awesome. Which you are, which is why I am so happy I saved your life, buddy. [Babou growls and squeaks to him] Don't worry, probably just thousands of dollars in fines, maybe a little bit of jail time, hopefully just probation. [Babou leans forward and urinates on the car seat next to Archer. Archer speaks in a strained voice] Totally worth it. [Babou growls] No, Babou, that was all sarcasm. [more growls] YES, ALL OF IT, YOU FOX-EARED ASSHOLE!

Archer: [Climbing to the top of the moving train] This is going to be awe— SHIIIIITT! [The wind causes Archer to lose his gun] AHHHH! The dust! It's like being shot in the eyes by a... glitter gun! [Puts on night vision goggles] There, that ought to do it. Okay, let's try this aga— [Gets blinded by the lights of a passing train] AAARGHSHIIIITTTT! My retinas are seared like tuna steaks!!! ALL I WANT IS TO FIGHT ON TOP OF A TRAIN! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?! [Switches off the night-vision on his goggles] The good news is, now I'm furious.

Drift Problem [3.7]Edit

Archer: Paging Doctor Boy, Doctor Birthday Boy!

Archer: Does no one seriously know what today is?
Pam: Tuesday?
Cheryl: The rapture?

Krieger: Press that red button.
Archer: Is it going to kill everyone?
Krieger: Press that blue button.
[Archer presses the button, activating a recording]
Model: Welcome, Mr. Archer...
Archer: It does know my name!
Model: the Dodge Challenger Special Agent Edition, brought to you by Dodge.
Archer: Thanks, Dodge!
Model: [all features shown] Featuring a 440 V8 engine, six-speed manual transmission, and a top speed of 185. Heavy-duty suspension, runflat tires, bulletproof body panels and windows, twin 30-cal machine guns mounted in the front, anti-pursuit countermeasures in the rear.
Archer: It makes the Mach Five look like a vagina.
Model: The interior boasts mil-spec GPS, satellite communications, hi-fi stereo, rich Corinthian leather.
Archer: Corinth is famous for its leather!
Model: And of course...
[She opens glove compartment revealing a bar with two bottles of liquor, two glasses, and ice]
Lawyer: [fast, over Archer's hysterical laughter] The in-dash bar is to be stocked with non-alcoholic beverages only. Dodge cannot stress this enough. Never ever ever drink and drive.

Archer: [staring at his back-lit, in-car minibar] It's like looking into the face of God.

Pam: Well go on, give your mom a hug.
Malory: Oh, I don't think that's...
Archer: [interrupting] Possible.
Malory: What?
Lana: Ugh, he's got an erection.
Archer: It's this Corinthian leather!

Lana: How much did Dodge kick in?
Malory: Not as much as you'd think.

Archer: Black, powerful, sexy. Like if Ron O'Neal was a car.

Malory: Who taught you to drive?
Cheryl: This guy I know called my dead father.
Malory: Oh... I...
Cheryl: Yeah, I bet you feel like a dick.

Malory: That was for Pearl Harbor!

Lo Scandalo [3.8]Edit

Archer: Well, unless it was the creepy-old-people-bondage-sex police, why would anyone break in here and shoot him?! No answer? Okay, let's ask him. [Pulls off mask]
Lana: Holy shit!
Malory: Because he's Savio Mascalzone.
Archer: Uh...
Lana: Oh, for— The prime minister of Italy!
Archer: The what?! Wait, doesn't Italy use a king?
Lana: No, they don't "use a king!"
Malory: What year do you think this is?!
Archer: I... yeah, exactly. Good question.

Archer: I have a question, Mother. Why does this chair have no seat... and WHAT... IS IN HIS ASS?!

Archer: Mother! What is in his ass?!
Malory: Oh, please. Don't act like you've never seen a "marital aid" before.
Archer: Not in a dead prime minister's ass!
Malory: And you can stop repeating that! We've established where it is!

[Discussing Operation Gladio]
Malory: It was a NATO stay-behind set up to counter a possible Soviet invasion of Western Europe.
Lana: But then it sort of turned into this whole weird crypto-fascist CIA shitshow, starring Allen Dulles and a bunch of former Nazis.
Malory: Thanks, Holly Hindsight.

Archer: Lawyer up. Call the cops.
Malory: What?
Archer: Oh, and hit the throttle on the bourbon because I'm gonna have to, uh, bust you in the face a couple times.
Malory: What are you talking about?
Archer: Self-defense, Mother! It's your only shot! We'll have to uncuff him and "de-dildo" him, obviously... Smash up the furniture like he was chasing you all rapey. Fortunately, he's Italian so that shouldn't be too hard to sell.

Archer: I bet I'll never be able to have sex again without thinking about this! I bet I won't even be able to eat spaghetti and meatballs. Oh God!
Malory: What?
Archer: I could eat. Not necessarily spaghetti and meatballs, but, you know, not necessarily not spaghetti and meatballs. I mean I really like spaghetti and meatballs. Man, if I don't get some spaghetti and meatballs, I may literally die.

Lana: So, we've got a dead Italian prime minister in the living room which—
Archer: Sucks, because I bet he knew how to make sauce.

Malory: So once again you're left with the classic Irish man's dilemma, do I eat the potato now or let it ferment so I can drink it later?

Archer: What is your problem with the Irish?
Malory: You mean besides not being on our side in World War II?
Archer: Yeah, besides that. Wait, seriously? They were Nazis?
Lana: No!
Archer: Well, they're not Japanese...
Lana: Neutral!

Krieger: I need access to a two-inch drain, hot water, three GFCI outlets—this bathroom should do nicely—and a pot of coffee just like I like my women: black, bitter, preferably fair trade.

Archer: You got a potato?
Malory: What is this? Christmas? And is Krieger... hard at work?
Archer: He literally might be, yes.
Lana: Ew.

Lana: Somebody's trying to frame Malory for murdering the Prime Minister of Italy.
Cheryl: Oooo, I bet it's that wicked king!

Krieger: I needed help... disseminating him.
Cheryl: Eww!
Pam: Not what it means.
Lana: Still pretty gross though.
Krieger: And brilliant. When I'm done with him, each one of us will walk out the front door carrying a small parcel.
Ray: How small?
Krieger: [holding hands a little over a foot apart] Eh. Then on our way home, we simply drop the parcels into seven different trash cans in three different boroughs.
Lana: That's... actually pretty smart.
Krieger: And hopefully, when you look at all the different drop points on a map, it'll look like a big smiley face.
Lana: That's actually pretty gross.

Cyril: Every single time we come here, we have to help you get rid of a dead body.
Malory: Well you've only been here twice.
Ray: Speaking of, why the hell was the prime minister of Italy here?
Archer & Lana: Don't ask.
Pam: And follow-up, did those dastardly dagoes kill him and then dress him up like a big, giant penis, or...
Malory: Oh, God, that reminds me. KRIEGER!
Krieger: Yeah, I found it!
Cyril: Found what?
Archer & Lana: Don't ask!
Krieger: Can I keep it?
Cheryl: Keep what?
Archer & Lana: Don't ask!
Malory: Just get it out of here, please!
Krieger: Yeah, take that tone.

Cyril: I hate all of you so much.
Ray: No one cares, Figgis. You're only here to round out the numbers.

Malory: But Krieger, wait. The bathroom, the body, how did you—
Krieger: [puts his finger over Malory's mouth] Shh shh shh shh shh shh shh. You don't want to know. But you do probably want to go wash your lips now.

Bloody Ferlin [3.9]Edit

Randy Gillet: [pointing gun] Don't you move. Don't move a inch.
Ray: What do you mean, "don't move"?! I came to help, you asshole!
Randy: Well, you ain't gonna be much help with your legs blown off. There's mines all in the yard.
Archer: Ray, to be honest, I'm kind of having second thoughts about this whole thing.
Cheryl: Uh, get in line.
Janelle: Randy Gillet, where are your manners? Get these folks the map of that damn minefield so they can come inside. [seductively] I've got some nice hot pie for 'em.
Archer: Okay, now I'm having third thoughts.
Ray: Oh, please don't.
Archer: It would be rude not to eat her pie, which I assume is not only hot, but also moist... Although hopefully not flaky.

Ray: So is it just E.Z. coming or...
Randy: No, it's the whole sheriff's department. I'd say twenty men, AR-15s, maybe grenades, oh...dogs! Duh.
Archer: Ray, I'm having fourth thoughts.
Randy: Well I got a few tricks up my sleeve. Janelle, why don't you take Mr. Archer and show him the defensive perimeter.
Janelle: I'd be delighted.
Ray: [as Archer and Janelle walk out] Well, now, wait a second...
Archer: Fifth thoughts!
Ray: Archer!
Randy: Don't worry, she won't bite. But speaking of, it's about suppertime. You still partial to fried chicken?
Cheryl: [having snapped a rooster's neck] I'll cook it... if someone shaves it or whatever.

Randy: Do you want to have sex with my wife?
Archer: No! I... I swear, this was just an extremely unlikely mishap with the barbed wire.
Randy: Because we would be amenable to that. Well? Why do you look so nonplussed?
Archer: Because I wasn't sure if you knew what "amenable" actually meant, until you followed it up with "nonplussed."

Archer: The truth is that your seemingly effeminate brother is, in fact, a highly trained secret agent.
Randy: [Sarcastically] Yeah, and I'm... something equally hard to believe is true.

Archer: I feel sick. What's happening? Do I have cancer again?
Ray: You drank too much!
Archer: That's a thing?

Ray: I'm coming out.
Archer: Ha ha, phrasing.

Crossing Over [3.10]Edit

[opening line; Archer is nursing a wicked hangover]
Archer: No, forget the glass Woodhouse, just give me the pitcher. For I am a sinner in the hands of an angry God. Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed are you among cocktails. Pray for me now and at the hour of my death, which I hope is soon. Amen.

Major Jackov: Et tu, Brute?!
Russian Soldier: Et me, buddy.

Cheryl: It has to be your place. Mine totally reeks of ocelot piss.

Archer: If anyone found out, I'd literally die of shame.
Pam: And how do you think that makes me feel?!
Archer: I don't care, Pam! [Pause] Having said that, would you please come into this dirty toilet stall and have sex with me?
Pam: Oh, alright.

Pam: This time really get in there. All you've been doing is giving one side hell.

Archer: Who hunts dogs?
Cheryl: Orientals, duh!

Archer: Where did you learn all that stuff?
Pam: You know I grew up on a farm, right?
Archer: Really hoping that's not relevant.

Archer: And instead of doing my job, I was here... Half-drunk and having amazing sex.
Pam: Well, I wouldn't say "amazing." [Archer looks at her] C'mon, you were pushing rope!

Skin Game [3.11]Edit

Krieger: I'm not a... serial killer!
Archer: Wait, why did you emphasize "serial"?
Krieger: I did what?

Pam: It's Bearclaw Monday!

Archer: [To Cyborg-Katya] That's your original skin, right?
Krieger: [Under a cough] Hobo.
Archer: What?
Krieger: ...Yes?

[Archer and Cyborg-Katya are in bed. Cyborg-Katya’s eyes are glowing red]
Archer: Can you close your eyes? It feels like I'm banging tail-lights on a country road.

Lana: If you want to know why Archer is Archer, you need to go back in time and have a threesome with Oedipus and Sigmund Freud!

[Archer has drunk an entire bottle of scotch]
Cyril: That was a gift to my grandfather! From Frank! SINATRA!
Archer: Which makes me feel even more terrible, since I'm going to puke it back up in five— [burps] one minutes...

Barry: Is anybody gonna ask how and why I knew to show up here?
Archer: Is...? Okay, I'll bite.
Barry: By tracking the satellite signal from Katya's internal hard drive, which Doctor Dipshit over there bought from the KGB.
Archer: Krieger!
Krieger: Yeah, but... the savings.
Barry: Like, eighty bucks you saved.

Malory: What, were they [Barry and Katya] having sex?
Lana: I think so.
Malory: Called it!

Lana: I know that sucked...
Archer: Vacuum cleaner puns?! Really?!

Archer: Barry!
Cheryl: Polo!
Archer: Will you shut up!
Cheryl: [grunt] Polo.
Archer: Uhh! I say all sides by idiots.

Space Race: Part I [3.12]Edit

Krieger: Uhhh... SMOKEBOMB! [runs away]

[Archer holding baseball mitt up, as ball slowly floats back to him]
Archer: Fuck you, space.

Archer: Happy, Cyril?! You just destroyed Alderaan!

Archer: Are you trying to get my mother into the Million-Mile-High Club?

Space Race: Part II [3.13]Edit

Pam: Holy Shitscace! Hey guys, we got a problem!
Carol: Duh! The party starting and this dress make me look like a whore!
Malory: Oh, you don't look like a whore... A idiot, maybe?
Carol: Wha—
Malory: Or both! Yes, a whore-diot!

Drake: Are the restraints really necessary?
Kellogg: Archer broke both Wu’s arms. While shouting “Woo!”
Archer: Happy accident.

Kellogg: What's taking so long?!
Horizon Drone: Couple things. One, I didn't invent whatever this door's made of, which is apparently some alloy of adamantium and mithril. And two, not really liking your tone!

Barry: [singing] Gone to outer space! To shoot the dickbag... In his face!


Cyril: I think I got 'em. Did I get 'em?
Lana: You did. You got those two guys, who were just minding their own business... Ooh! And also the one remaining person who could fly us back to Earth!
Archer: A black astronaut, Cyril! That's like killing a unicorn!

Pam: Holy crapsnack, how is this gonna get—
Archer: Don't, don't you say it.
Pam: Any worse, is what I was gonna say.
Archer: [annoyed and sarcastic] Really?
Pam: [serious] Yes.

Horizon scientist: I heard him tell you to do it.
Kellogg: And I'm telling you to do it.
Horizon scientist: And I'm telling you that I didn't sign up for Animal Farm in space!
Archer: [in hiding with Lana and Cyril] Wait, there are animals?
Lana: No, Animal Farm.
Cyril: How do you not get that?
Archer: Cyril, I know what an animal farm is.
Cyril: Not an animal farm—
Archer: Maybe we can, I don't know, stampede a flock of goats down the hall.
Lana: Animal Farm is a book.
Archer: No, it isn't, Lana! It's an allegorical novella about Stalinism by George Orwell! And spoiler alert: IT SUCKS! [Guns are pointed at them by Kellogg and the scientist] Although, I was talking about an actual animal farm. So... never mind.

Carol: Jesus Christ, could you PLEASE think of somebody other than yourself for once in your life?!
Lana: And that's her talking.

Season 4Edit

Fugue and Riffs [4.1]Edit

Pam: Speaking of, you see the bulge on that towel boy? Man, if I was you, I'd be in this spa 25/8.
Cheryl: Yeah, but then I wouldn't get to hang out with everybody at work.
Pam: You hate everybody at work.
Cheryl: I know. It's the only thing that gets me out of bed every morning.

Lana: I want it on record that I think this is a terrible plan.
Malory: Duly noted and disregarded. And I expect you to be totally convincing.
Lana: As the damsel in distress? Have you ever met a woman less damsely?
Malory: ...Pam.

Archer: Sour mix? In a margarita? What is this, Auschwitz?

Malory: I'm off for a seaweed wrap.
Ray: [Under his breath] I didn't know they made sushi with dried clams.

Malory: Oh, Ron, thank you for coming so quickly.
Pam: Phrasing! First! Boom!

The Wind Cries Mary [4.2]Edit

Pam: This is Rodney, he's the new... whatever... gun librarian.
Rodney: Armory supervisor!

[Cyril activates a laser alarm]
Lana: How could you not see that?!
Cyril: Because, I only have two eyes and they were both busy looking for hunters!
Lana: [Referring to Cyril's bright orange snow clothes] Why, is it "pumpkin season"?!
Cyril: [Gasps] Is that a thing?

Archer: [Seeing Cyril's orange snow clothes on the ground] Okay, so...really don't know what to make of that. Unless...[Looks around] Wait, no, no. Get it out of your head. Predator only hunts in tropical jungles...I assume...and desperately hope.

Legs [4.3]Edit

Archer: Ray's gonna be a cyborg over my dead body! Or preferably his! [Pause] But somebody's!

Archer: Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to apologize for that?
Cheryl: Once would be nice!
Archer: Hmm... No.

Archer: Are you going to open the damn door?
Rodney: Only if you give me that weapon.
Archer: Do you honestly want to live through the Rise of the Machines?! Which you won't, because no one will?!
Rodney: Uh—
Archer: It was rhetorical!

Krieger: A small power unit goes here on your... spiney thing, which sends electical impulses to your muscles and ligaments and... stuff, which I will fuse to a vanadium alloy endoskeleton, replacing your current, uh, leg bones.
Ray: I have to say, it kind of worries me that you don't know the names of the actual bones.

Cyril: Why is your instinctive response to run toward explosions?
Lana: Ummm... Because... I'm not a giant pussy!
Cyril: And yet, somehow, incredibly single.

[Cheryl is hysterical. Archer slaps her.]
Rodney: Whoa whoa whoa! Not cool man! That is not at all cool!
Cheryl: Rodney, you mind your own dicky beeswax! [To Archer] You got another one in ya?
Archer: I don't.
Cheryl: [seductively] Tease.
Archer: And I'm sorry for that one.
Cheryl: Don't be.
Archer: Because, I'm just going to say it, I think it's super creepy you get sexually aroused by physical violence.
Cheryl: Mmmm... Well, but also emotional violence...

[Archer suddenly crashes through the ceiling, naked, armed with an RPG. He stands and faces Cyril.]
Archer: [In a Terminator voice] Your clothes. Give them to me!
Cyril: Ah!
Archer: [In normal voice] I'm just kidding, obviously! I wouldn't be caught dead in a sweater-vest! Now, if you'll excuse me... [Passes out]
Pam: Just like Fourth of Jul-Luau!
Carol: Yeah, if you slid a pig under him.

Archer: Thank you... What was your name again?
Rodney: Rodney.
Archer: Thank you. Asshole.

Midnight Ron [4.4]Edit

Ron: ...Which is why Ron Cadillac is opting out. And also why Ron Cadillac is going to swing by Montreal on his way home. Because Ron Cadillac is FREAKING EPIC!

Ron: Gimme a break ah? That wasn't my fault
Archer: [Finishes drinking bourbon, burps] Yeah, no. I mean obviously this was all due to the butterfly effect.
Ron: The what?
Archer: Butterfly effect. You know, a butterfly in Africa lands on a giraffe's nose, the giraffe sneezes, that spooks a gazelle, the gazelle bonks into a rhinoceros, and the rhinoceros blindly stampedes into a phone booth, calls New York somehow and says "Hey, go kill this idiot Ron, for a suitcase," because the rhinoceros speaks English! [beat] What's in the suitcase, Ron?

Vicious Coupling [4.5]Edit

Pam: My cooch has cobwebs!

Archer: Damn you, tinnitus, you're a cruel mistress!

Archer: Since certain people around here may not see how brilliant my plan is, they're gonna need to be...
Pam: Convinced?
Archer: I'm sorry, did you say "incapacitated"?

Lana: [Climbing into air vent] Holy shit, there really are nerve gas canisters up here. [Beat] I though that was a joke.

Archer: Why is Barry rocket-shipping away from the frickin' space station?
Krieger: Because Newton's Third Law of Motion?
Archer: Hey, thanks, Neil deGrasse Tyson!
Krieger's Virtual Girlfriend: [aroused] Ooooh! DeGrasse Tyson-san.

Once Bitten [4.6]Edit

Lana: I want it officially on record that I am strongly opposed to this mission.
Malory: [Laughs] What record?

Archer: [To Ray] You're shitting me! Bionic legs and you lift with your back?!

Archer: Cyril, if you call ISIS: I will literally, LITERALLY murder you! I'd rather die than sit through another one of Lana's I Told You So 's

Archer: [Stranded in the desert] Unless I'm hallucinating, there's a Land Cruiser over there flipping his high-beams at us.
Cyril & Ray: You're hallucinating.
Archer: Oh. Well, the good news is we don't have to worry about these alligators... that's not actually good news, is it?

Lana: Why not?! Why won't you stand up to Malory with me?
Pam: Um, because we don't give a shit?
Lana: About the Earth?!
Cheryl: Please! If you really cared, you'd resign, but there's no way you ever will because you're just counting days until, her face bloated and yellow from liver failure, she calls you to her deathbed and in a croaky whisper explains that Mr. Archer is totally incompetent and that you, the long suffering Lana Kane, are the only one qualified to run ISIS and you weep shameful tears because this terrible place is the only true love you will ever know...
Lana: [shocked] ...Excuse me... [Leaves]
Pam: Daaaaaamn!
Cheryl: What? ...Oh-my-God was I talking?

Live and Let Dine [4.7]Edit

Archer: He's a Master Chef! Which, turns out, is not nearly as gay a job as I thought it was. I mean, it's no secret agent, but it's way above architect.

Lance Casteau: Remember when I said you could've been a great chef?
Archer: Yes.
Lance: Every morning I make two cooks like you in the toilet.

Coyote Lovely [4.8]Edit

Archer: Mexico's most notorious coyote... Which is Español for "people smuggler."
Lana: Thanks. That's—
Archer: And also for... coyote, it turns out.
Lana: Archer—
Archer: It's a loanword. Or is it a calque?
Lana: Why do you always do this?
Archer: Because I'm always bored.
Cyril: Is he—? This is totally nerve-wracking. How are you bored?
Lana: Don't engage him.
Archer: Because I've been lying in scorpion piss for two hours in the sun-blasted shit-hole which is Texas, waiting for a stupid truck stuffed with smallish brown people who just want a job.
Cyril: And probably Mexican cartel gunmen!
Lana: What'd I just say?
Archer: Big whoop. I'm spooning a Barrett .50-cal. I could kill a building.
Lana: Just put one through the engine block when the truck has to stop, please. [To Cyril] This is what he does. He knows we're tense, because we're normal human beings. My theory—and I'm serious—is that he's got some rare kind of pervasive developmental disorder, or even undiagnosed atypical autism.
Archer: Um... Your mic's hot.
Lana: I know.
Archer: Wow.

Lana: [To Cyril] Would you man up, Kimmy Kevlar?!

Cheryl: Milk comes from Mexicans? Oh my God, what's cereal made from?!

Malory: Swear to God, you people make me want to pump nerve gas through the vents.
Krieger: [over loudspeaker] Just say the word.

Malory: [To Bilbo] Clean the impending massive heart attack out of your ears!

The Honeymooners [4.9]Edit

Lana: What do you think you're doing?
Archer: My job, Lana.
Lana: And what part of your job exactly is groping my ass?
Archer: The part that calls for spy-craft. C'mon, we're posing as newlyweds, so—
Lana: Yeah, posing!
Archer: And I'm drunk on nuptial bliss.
Lana: You're drunk on champagne.
Archer: Eh, little column A, little column B.

Lana: ...then passing out on the bed, totally naked, for a... what'd you call it?
Archer: Power black out. And, you're welcome.
Lana: Yeah, thanks. The memory of your bare ass will bring me comfort and warmth during the coming nuclear winter!
Archer: Relax, it's North Korea. The nation-state equivalent of the short bus.

Cyril: God, were you raised in a barn?
Pam: No. I just slept out there a lot.

Krieger: [Running a Geiger counter back and forth over a glowing green pig, causing it to consistently go off the scale] Well, Pigley 3, that would certainly explain the glowing... [Runs the Geiger counter over his own crotch, causing it to go off the scale as well] And probably a few other things...

Archer: Go online and check your bank account.
Lana: Now? When I'm suction-cupped on a window thirty stories above the ground?
Archer: Yeah! You should have five bars.
Lana: Okay so, it's gonna sound like I'm hanging up? But— [hangs up]

Lana: Did you seriously climb all the way up here just to see what my bonus is?
Archer: No, I sarcastically climbed all the way up here to see what your bonus is! He said, sarcastically! Phone!
Lana: Okay. Jesus! Keep your voice... [checking phone] Whoa!
Archer: Sucks, right? That's not even... remotely fair! What the shit?!
Lana: Apparently, we're in a crazy parallel universe, where bonuses are based on merit instead of whether or not you crawled out of your— [drops phone] mother—!

North Korean terrorist: [Having Lana and Archer hostage] Oh, we don't shoot you. After mission finish, we take you back to Glorious Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea.
Archer: Oh. Then do go ahead and shoot us.
Lana: Archer!
Archer: What, Lana? It's none of those things! It's not Democratic, it's not a republic and definitely not glorious!

Lana: Oh my God. Okay... You're abandoning the mission to go home and pout?
Archer: I'm not going home... I'm going down there to kick some Kim Jong Ass!
Lana: Wha— no! We're doing surveillance!
Archer: Yeah, which is apparently French for just sitting around on your ass!
Lana: Yeah, which is why it's surprising that you're soooo shitty at it.

Cyril: Suppressing fiiiireeeee-extinquisherrrrr!
Archer: Is that...
Lana: Cyril?!
Cyril: Lana!
Lana: I'm coming, Cyril!
Archer: Lana, wait! Bet that's the first time you ever said that. Right? Huh? Okay now we can go.


Lana: [cocking a gun] Cyril, hit the deck!
Archer: Wait, why Cyril—
Lana: [Shooting North Korean spies] GET SOME, YOU SONS OF BITCHES! GET SOME!

Pam: Aww man, did I miss it?!
Cheryl: Oh my god, the toilet!?
Pam: No, Jesus! ...Although it is clogged.

Un Chien Tangerine [4.10]Edit

Archer: Don't ruin the moment.

Archer: You're missing out on all the great things that Tangiers has to offer.
Lana: Name one.
Archer: Cheap...
Lana: [Interrupting] Apart from cheap hash and a repulsively low age of consent.
Archer: Rugs?

Cheryl: Ms. Archer, Lana for you, line one.
Malory: I'm not here.
Cheryl: [scared] Then how...

Malory: My God, a perfect score on the IFAAB merely indicates that a person is a candidate for field agent status, it can't determine if they're suited for actual field work. I mean, what if she had to subdue an agent?
Pam: Cue sad trombone, and... go.
[Snaps fingers, showing video of Cyril, Ray and Krieger being mauled by Pam.]
Malory: Pam! What the hell did you... waagh! [Brief shot of Cyril thrown to ground and picked up and thrown again] My God!
Krieger: And it goes on like that for another thirty-eight soul-cleaving minutes
Ray: Of which, you were there for two.
Krieger: Hey, I was scared, I ran away. Sue me. And sue me for this! Smoke bomb!

Lana: [While walking through the desert] Because you let him, you let him push your buttons. That's why you stormed off with no GPS, gun, phone, or lifesaving water. And that's why you died in the desert. [Beat] Holy shit I'm gonna die in the desert. [Gasps] Just like Cheryl's gypsy woman said!
[Flashback to the ISIS break room, as Lana is talking to Cheryl while opening a soda bottle]
Lana: How. Would I ever. Die in a dessert.
[Back to the present]
Lana: Well, pretty close.

Pam: Plus I'm a quick learner, plus you've seen me drive I'm an amazing driver, plus I almost never get sick, plus I already bought three pantsuits, plus...
Malory: Alright! I'll think about it.
Pam: Is that a real you'll think about it or a "Pam, if your pig Leon wins a blue ribbon at the county fair, maybe we won't kill him and eat him for Easter dinner and render what's left into soap" you'll think about it?
Malory: It's...
Pam: Because I never really got over that.
Malory: It's a real one.
Malory: —but thank you for that glimpse into your bleak, farm-y childhood.
Pam: It was actually pretty awesome. And if I'm being honest, so was Leon.

Archer: [to Kazak the dog] Okay, buddy, so here's the deal. A., scrooch down! And B., normally in this situation, I'd do a PIT maneuver, but if I do, the truck will flip, and if Lana doesn't die, best case scenario, she's a quadriplegic and I marry her out of guilt, but after a few years of feeding tubes and colostomy bags I start to resent her and the night nurse is, like, Brazilian and twenty. [Kazak growls] Don't judge me! I have needs, man! The point is, and it might be a kind of shitty plan [jams the canteen against the gas pedal] but I'm gonna jump on the truck, so I need you to take the... [Kazak barks] Wheel, exactly. So— [sees Kazak is gone] Kazak? [Sees Kazak has jumped onto the truck and is mauling the kidnappers] Lana, look! He thinks he's vampires!

The Papal Chase [4.11]Edit

Malory: ...and then, give me the file I asked for!
Ray: Yeah, why don't I shove a broom up my ass and sweep the floor while I'm at it?
Malory: What was that?
Ray: Nothing!
Malory: Good. Saves you the embarrassment of an incredibly homophobic remark.
Cheryl: Awwwww.

[Pam's holding a large mirror above the Pope, who's sleeping]
Archer: Put that down, Pam, he's not— [Pam drops the mirror right on the Pope] —dead! Nice job, Oliver Cromwell!
Pam: I killed the Pope!
Archer: Yeah, that's why I said Oliver—
Pam: [Jumps on top of the mirror that's still on the Pope, grabbing Archer by his shirt] JESUS CHRIST, I'M GOING TO HELL! I'M GOING TO HELL! I— [Archer slaps her four times]
Archer: Pam.
Pam: Yes?
Archer: Get off the Pope.

Archer: Lana! NOW!
Lana: He said, last-wordsingly.

[Archer pulls up in a Bubble Car]
Lana: Are you shitting me?!
Archer: What? It was either this or the Vespas. It's not my fault Italy's so gay!

Swiss Guard: The good news is my men have apprehended Cardinal Correlli, who immediately confessed to the plot.
Pam: HA-HEY! That is good news!
Lana: You know how the whole the good news is thing works, right?
Swiss Guard: The bad news is...
Pam: Oh, right.

Archer: But the real good news is that we saved the Pope's life!
Swiss Guard: For which we are grateful. However, we cannot tell these two apart, so...
Archer: So I actually have an idea about that.
Lana: Is it... take them both home, see which one's a better butler, and give the other one back to the Catholic Church?
Archer: Uhh, never mind.

Sea Tunt: Part I [4.12]Edit

Malory: Last night, an Air Force B-52 bomber crashed off the coast of Bermuda!
Archer: Well it's about frickin' time! [Beat] What, we're not bombing them in advance of an amphibious invasion?
Lana: Why would we invade Bermuda?
Archer: Oh... Bermuda, duh. I was thinking Bahamas.
Lana: Same question.
Archer: Same answer: Why not? It's how we got the Virgin Islands.
Cyril: Actually, the United States bought the Virgin Islands from Denmark.
Archer: Okay, Mr. Peabody...
Malory: Are you finished?
Archer: Yes?
Malory: Good. Because the B-52 was—
Archer: In the middle of the Bermuda Triangle! Is this about the Bermuda Triangle? Because that's my fourth biggest fear.

Malory: The B-52 is on the ocean floor here at a depth of 8,000 feet—
Archer: Or 1,333 fathoms.
Lana: How do you know that?
Archer: How do you not?

Malory: ...So we're going to beat the Russians!
Archer: [Sarcastically claps] Give it up, everyone. Mike Eruzione!

[Tiffy, the pilot, has been arguing with Cheryl about veganism over the intercom]
Cecil: Hey, Tiffy. Could you, instead of antagonizing her, maybe go ahead and take off? [The chopper judders as it takes off] Love you! [To Archer, who's mixing a cocktail] We'll rendezvous with my research vessel in a few hours. So, in the meantime, I guess, continue to make such wildly liberal use of the bar.
Archer: Done!

Cecil: Hi, it's Pam, right? Enjoying the cruelty-free vegan seafood buffet?
Pam: It's pretty good once you get over how allergic I am to soy.
Cecil: What?! Oh my God, don't eat that!
Pam: HEY! I'm a consenting adult! [coughes] Plus, I assume you've got an Epi-pen on this rip-tide-looking bastard?
Cecil: Yes, in the cockpit. In the first aid kit.
Pam: Then shut up! [continues devouring the "shrimp"]

Cheryl: [whispering from offscreen] Psst.. Pam!
Pam: Oh, Already?! [to the "shrimp" she's holding] Look, auditory hallucinations aren't gonna make you any less delicious!

Sea Tunt: Part II [4.13]Edit

Cheryl: [To her brother] You really spent your entire inheritance on... the poors?

Cpt. Murphy: I'll be waiting for you.
Lana: Was that... Did he sound like... Do you think this is some kind of a trap?
Archer: What? No, I don't think it's a trap! Although I never do. [Beat] And it very often is.

Lana: We're from ISIS.
Cpt. Murphy: Jesus Christ, no wonder this all went tits-up.

Ray: LANA! Would you hurry up?
Lana: Said the guy apparently too busy counting his bionic legs to help.

Season 5Edit

White Elephant [5.1]Edit

Pam: Yeah, they're shooting at you!
Archer: Who?
Cheryl: The storm ninjas!
Archer: What? That's not a thing, idiot! [beat] Oh. I stand corrected.

Lana: Son of a... bitches, I am pregnant!
Cyril: Yes! Who could forget, with the bastard spawn of a total stranger.
Lana: Okay, first of all... [Flashbang lands near Cyril] Cover your eyes and ears!
Cyril: You're not the boss of me! [Flashbang goes off] Meep? Meep?

Archer: Well, he died doing what he loved... Getting shot.

FBI Agent: Uh, sir? It's like you said. He's dug in there like a tick and...
Krieger: Never! You'll never take me alive!
Agent Holly: Okay, breach it.
FBI Agent: Roger that.
Krieger: On second thought, I very much prefer to be taken alive. Just let me clear the ol' browser history and... No, no, no, no, oof! Oh come on!

Ray: I said Ms. Archer had an affair with the head of the KGB for like 30 years.
Cheryl: Yeah, until he got blown up. Which was actually my fault.
Cyril: Because she was busy having choke-sex with a murderous cyborg who then became the new head of the KGB.
Krieger: Until I built a sexier one out of illegal Soviet parts. And a corpse.

Cyril: Oh, Jesus I forgot about the...
Cheryl: Giant pot farm in West Virginia.
Pam: And this whole other thing with the Yakuza.
Ray: Irish mob.
Cheryl: Piracy.
Cyril: White slavery.
Pam: No, actual piracy. With, like, boats.

Krieger: Is it murder if they were my own clones? [Beat] I'm seriously asking.

Krieger: Defiling a corpse.
Cyril: Defiling a different corpse.
Pam: Kidnapping the Pope...
Cheryl: [laughs] Faking my own kidnapping! Arson...
Pam: Bum fights! You know like when you pay bums to...
Cyril: Destroy an oil pipeline in...
Cheryl: I wanna say Burt Reynolds!
Cyril: Turkmenistan?

Archer: Archer Vice.
Lana: What?
Archer: Nothing. Shut up.

Archer Vice: A Kiss While Dying [5.2]Edit

Lana: What's in Miami?
Malory: Besides 90% of all mosquitoes and Cubans on earth?
Archer: That sounds high.

Archer: [To Lana] But the point is we are highly trained covert operatives with an extremely dangerous set of skills. [To Pam] PAM! LEG! [Back to Lana] Since the government has unjustly accused us of treason. We are now forced to transfer those skills from espionage to criminal activity. Kind of like the A-Team but we sell drugs.
Lana: And you're OK with that?
Archer: Are you not? Lana, it's the A-Team meets Scarface! That makes me... ummm...
Lana: Hannibal Montana?

Lana: [to Archer] If anything goes wrong, I'm holding you responsible.
Archer: [sarcastically] Yeah, that'll teach me.

Archer Vice: A Debt of Honor [5.3]Edit

Malory: Amphetamines?!
Pam: Right? And I know it sounds crazy, but I like them as much as cocaine!

Krieger: [seeing the Yakuza at the door on a monitor] Hey, so, did somebody order Chinese?
Malory: They're Japanese, you idiot!
Krieger: [to his virtual girlfriend] Oh, for... I don't get all pissy every time you mistake a Dutchman for a Swede! Either time that happened!

Malory: Well, what did he say?
Pam: Well, he's not happy, obviously, and he wants his drugs back, and that guy who sold 'em to me's not gonna be playing the violin any time soon.
Archer: Because?
Pam: Because a violin would probably dissolve in the same big drum of acid they dissolved that guy in.
Everyone else: Ew!
Lana: But if all Moto wants is his drugs...
Malory: Then he can give us a refund.
Lana: Of worthless counterfeit money?
Cyril: It's not exactly worthless. The right buyer would probably pay about 15 cents on the dollar for it.
Malory: What?! Why didn't you say that?!
Cyril: Uh, I don't know. I assumed you knew.
Ron: Everybody knows that.

Cheryl: $1 million! Yes, real dollars. Duh, look at my house. I bet I got rugs worth a... Ugh! Fine, $2 million. Okay, $5 million. Fine, $10 million! $50 million! A jillion million! Jesus! Be more gross and Chinese-y!
[Hangs up. Archer plays the Price Is Right losing horn on his phone]
Archer: Been waiting forever to use that.

Lana: Okay, listen up, there are way too many windows and doors to cover, so we need to concentrate on chokepoints. [Cheryl excitedly laughs] Not that kind of chokepoints.

Malory: [handing Ron a rifle] Here.
Ron: Noop.
Malory: What do you mean, "noop"? Take it!
Ron: Woman, I am not getting in a shootout with the goddamn Yakuza because you people decided to steal their drugs!
Malory: Well, I support you in your work! Not that you ever do any, but...
Ron: If you were honest with yourself, you would realize I have been incredibly supportive of you! Get arrested for treason, I stand by you; become a drug dealer, I stand by you. Oh-oh-oh! And you don't seem to mind driving around in a new Cadillac, do you?
Malory: A floor model.

Archer Vice: House Call [5.4]Edit

Malory: [Dismissively] Metric. Who uses metric?
Lana: Every single country on the planet except for us, Liberia, and Burma.

Ron: Next time, remind me to get shot in the head.
Archer: Ron, next time, get shot in the head.

Lana: What are you eating?
Pam: Yogurt.
Malory: [snatching spoon] Give me that! Lick it.
Archer: Well, can't unhear that. [Takes lick from spoon] Holy shit, yogurt is amazing! Why have I never tried yogurt?
Lana: How have you never tried yogurt?
Archer: Mmm, I didn't know it was that good.
Malory: It's good because it's cocaine!
Archer: Oh, my God, and little kids eat it?

Cheryl: [as Pam carries her off] This is only somewhat like that old Gypsy woman said!

Cyril: How do you not know the different kinds of porn?
Archer: Because I have sex with actual women, Cyril! My girlfriend's not equal parts the Internet, a tube of Kentucky jelly, self-loathing, and a sock.

Archer Vice: Southbound and Down [5.5]Edit

[After Lana knock down a biker at the "Now leaving Texarkana" sign]
Lana: [Laughing] Yeah, bitch! That's how I— [Seeing Archer and Pam] Ohh, shit!
[Cherlene screams, Lana breaks]
Archer: Even a goddamn baby knows, in craps you never bet on the hard way! [Pam slap Archer who sees the bus about to hit them] OHHHHHHHHHHHH—
Lana, Cyril, Cherlene, and Malory: SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII—
[The bus runs over Archer's car which spins, while Cherlene's bus crashes into a hill]
Pam: You mad?
Archer: Give you three guesses, Pam!
Pam: No...? No...? No!
Archer: Wrong, Pam!

Archer Vice: Baby Shower [5.6]Edit

Archer: Cyril, shut your pout-hole, accept that Lana was so far out of your league that impregnating her would've basically been interspecies breeding, and get on with your life!

Archer: No, Kenny Loggins! Nothing can make up for almost killing me over a briefcase of what I can only assume is either plutonium or a human soul!

[Before they sing a duet of Danger Zone]
Cherlene: It's in D-minor. Do you know what that is? Or even what chords are?
Kenny Loggins: [sigh] Yes.
Cherlene: Wow, snotty. OK, fine. So during the boring parts, just scream "Outlaw Country".
Kenny Loggins: Absolutely not.

Archer Vice: Smugglers' Blues [5.7]Edit

Archer: It's time to gather some intel.
Ray: Intel? No, do not compare what we do now to intelligence work.
Archer: Don't worry, I won't. Because selling cocaine to cocaine dealers doesn't really compare to helping overthrow democratically elected governments. Like the U.S. did in Guatemala, Chile, Nicaragua, uh... oh, Iran! Because, spoiler alert, those didn't really work out so great! But that's OK, because I'm pinning my hopes for the future on the next big shipment of Stinger missiles to that ragtag bunch of mujaheddin heroes in Afghanistan!

Archer Vice: The Rules of Extraction [5.8]Edit

Cyril: What do crocodiles eat?
Archer: EVERYTHING! THEY EAT EVERYTHING! And fear is their bacon bits!

Cyril: Why are you so afraid of crocodiles?
Archer: Gee, I don't know, Cyril. Maybe, deep down, I'm afraid of any apex predator that lived through the K-T Extinction.
Cyril: The...?
Archer: Physically unchanged for a hundred million years because it's the perfect killing machine: a half ton of coldblooded fury with a bite force of twenty-thousand newtons and a stomach acid so strong it can dissolve bones and hooves. And now we're surrounded, those snake eyes are watching from the shadows waiting for the night...
Ray: [Interrupts, breaking into song] Waiting for the Night!

Archer: Goddammit, how are we not doing "phrasing"?!

Archer Vice: On the Carpet [5.9]Edit

Archer Vice: Palace Intrigue: Part I [5.10]Edit

Archer Vice: Palace Intrigue: Part II [5.11]Edit

Archer: Lana, in case you haven't noticed, this place is crawling with rebels.
Pam: And not the good kind you get drunk with at Myrtle Beach and cruise the strip in the bed of their Monster truck with a big rebel flag on it, flinging empty longnecks at people!
Lana: Yeah, those aren't actually the good kind either.
Pam: Now who's racist?!
Archer: Those guys, Pam. Those exact same guys you just described.

Lana: This is how you steal a painting. Did you never see The Thomas Crown Affair?
Archer: No. Not a huge Steve McQueen fan.
Lana: [Laughs] Oh, my God, are you... Archer, you used to moan about him in your sleep!
Archer: I... I... No, I didn't.

Archer Vice: Filibuster [5.12]Edit

Lana: I just this second realised why you want to stay down here! Cyril's just the Vader to your Palpatine.
Malory: Is that a reference I should get, or...
Lana: Seriously?
Malory: Well I'm sorry, Lana, I didn't go to rabbinical school.
Lana: It's from... No, y'know what, never mind. But, spoiler alert, Vader ends up killing Palpatine.
Cyril: Hey.
Cherlene: But only for three days, right? And then he moves the rock and comes out of his cave stronger than ever.
Pam: Then he shuts off the tractor beam, releasing the Jews from captivity.
Lana: What?
Cyril: Hey.
Malory: Wait, yes, now that sounds familiar.
Lana: It cannot possibly!

Archer: Where did you get that?!
Cherlene: Let's just say I honestly don't remember.

Archer: [To Caldarone] Did you ever think maybe your fleet of priceless cars is the reason you're fighting off a rebellion?
Caldarone: I'm fighting the rebels because that is what we do. My Father fought the rebels, his father fought the rebels.
Cherlene: So like a family business.
Archer: That manufactures oppression!
Caldarone: Well, and cocaine.

[looking at a tiger in the zoo]
Archer: They should have sent a poet. Oh, and some meat. Do we have any meat?
Caldarone: [An elephant trumpets offscreen] Literally tons.
Archer: No, I didn't mean another animal. I meant like a steak.
Caldarone: Typical American! You think meat comes from the supermercado, all wrapped in nice plastic wrap.
Archer: Yeah, you're describing meat.
Caldarone: No, no, no. Meat is blood and bones and sinew.
Archer: Well, now you're describing not-meat.
Caldarone: Meat is whatever the tiger says is meat. Because God made him the boss and all the other animals his food.
[The tiger roars]
Archer: [to tiger] Hang on, buddy. [To Caldarone] And thank you, George Bore-well, for that clunky analogy in defense of totalitarianism! But I'm not feeding Shane an elephant.

Archer Vice: Arrivals/Departures [5.13]Edit

Julianna: You are not robbing my palace!
Malory: Oh yes, we are. And if you've got any sense, you'll fill your pockets too. Because your regime is officially over. I've seen coups from Angola to Zanzibar and this is how it ends. In the trunk of a taxi to the airport, your belly full of diamonds and vodka, praying your driver doesn't rat you out to the Reds at the last checkpoint. Because then the last thing you'll ever hear, besides a pistol cocking behind your head, is Ivan's laugh... [Pam starts laughing] What in the name of God is funny?!
Pam: You said you'd seen cooze!

Cherlene: [Picks up M16] Private Me, reporting for Sploosh.

Krieger: [on the nerve gas] Come on, you don't want a thing like that falling into the wrong hands. The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is that good men do nothing.
Malory: Said the clone of Adolf Hitler.
Krieger: Well... Edmund Burke, but... doesn't matter who.

Lana: Okay, so, remember when you had cancer?
Archer: [laughs] Um... uh, vaguely.
Lana: Okay, well, we all thought you were gonna die. And one night you got really drunk and we almost had sex, and right before you passed out, you told me Malory had convinced you to freeze a bunch of your sperm at Dr. Feldman's office, and I was like "huh, weird." And then you didn't die, [Archer starts zoning out into a gradually increasing high-pitched tone] and a few years went by and I started thinking about having a baby, but I was single and all the other stuff aside, physically you're an amazing human being. And all the other other stuff aside, I do actually love you. And so here's this viable sample sitting there at Dr. Feldman's, whose security system is a JOKE, by the way, and so I guess it maybe wasn't the most ethical thing I've ever done in my entire life.... Uhhh... Archer? ...Archer? ...Archer?
[Archer snaps out of it]
Archer: What's that?! Wait, wait... huh? What?!
Lana: You okay?
Archer: Yeah, sorry. For a second I thought I was just now coming out of a coma from when I drowned saving your life eight months ago. [Archer takes a drink] Lana? Am I just now coming out of a coma from when I drowned saving your life eight months ago?
Lana: No.
Archer: Hmm. Lana? Am I just NOW coming out of a coma from when I drowned saving your life eight months ago?
Lana: No.
Archer: Then, what are you... [Archer looks at the baby] Baby, what is she saying? Baby? Baby?! Baby?!?! [Baby holds up a finger as she nurses on Lana] M-meep...
Lana: Sterling Archer...
Archer: ...Meep.
Lana: ...I'd like you to meet your daughter, Abbiejean.

Season 6Edit

The Holdout [6.1]Edit

Three to Tango [6.2]Edit

The Archer Sanction [6.3]Edit

Edie's Wedding [6.4]Edit

Vision Quest [6.5]Edit

Sitting [6.6]Edit

Nellis [6.7]Edit

Cyril: [on guards advancing on the plane] Those guys look furious.
Archer: Yeah, no shit! So thank you, Ray!
Ray: For what, safely landing the plane?
Archer: What, like that cancels out you getting it shot down in the first place?
Ray: You were the one yapping your head off about my damn teacup pig!
Archer: Who I hope to see on my next BLT!
Ray: Well, too bad, beause... he went to live on a...
Archer: A farm! Exactly! So unless that farm had a magical talking spider...
[Ray gasps in abject horror]
Pam: Yeah, they don't keep 'em around for their milk.

The Kanes [6.8]Edit

Pocket Listing [6.9]Edit

Reignition Sequence [6.10]Edit

Achub Y Morfilod [6.11]Edit

Drastic Voyage: Part I [6.12]Edit

Drastic Voyage: Part II [6.13]Edit

Season 7Edit

The Figgis Agency [7.1]Edit

[Malory pours Cyril a glass of champagne]
Cyril: But, I doubt they've got the disc yet. Isn't it a little premature to be celebrating?
Malory: Who's celebrating? We're out of liquor. But I admit, I'm cautiously optimistic.
Cyril: Because out here you can buy liquor at the grocery store?
Malory: Literally the only thing about Los Angeles that doesn't make me want to vomit.

The Handoff [7.2]Edit

Deadly Prep [7.3]Edit

Motherless Child [7.4]Edit

Bell Panto: Part I [7.5]Edit

Archer: Guys, come on, what's going on here?
Malory: I was just explaining some basic tenets of fieldcraft to these three.
Archer: Yeah, you gotta blend, but I meant what's going on hors d'oeuvre-wise?
Pam: Wouldn't you like to...
Malory: Ahem. Blend.
Pam: [each presenting platters] This is a deconstructed slider made from certified Kobe beef from Hyogo prefecture, with a tarragon aioli.
Ray: Tapas of pata negra jamon iberica, topped with queso Torta del Casar.
Cyril: And these are tiny quiches, probably made from endangered quail eggs, or...
Archer: No, none of this is that. [Takes one from each platter and puts them together] This is the world's most expensive Mc10:35.


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