"And so, if I could direct your attention to these visual aids, you will see that from our initial supply of 1,000 kilos of cocaine, we..." "Hang on, dummy, we had a ton of cocaine." "No." "Well, we had a tonne, T-O-N-N-E, also known as a metric ton, but..." "Metric." "Who uses metric?" "Every single country on the planet except for us, Liberia and Burma." "Wow, really?" "Yup." "'Cause you never think of those other two as having their shit together." "Anyway, as you can see..." "Why are they thermometers?" "I thought they were cocks." "Wait, they're not?" "No." "They are not cocks!" "Okay!" "Jesus, you people." "Next time, remind me to get shot in the head." "Uh, Ron, next time, get shot in the head." "Sterling, shut up." "Cyril, continue." "So, as you can see, we are already down to 125 kilos of cocaine, which was worth about $6 million, so..." "Wait, how much is that in pounds?" "Forget pounds!" "We're doing kilos!" "No, I meant pounds." "Sterling!" "Exactly." "As in Doctor Who money." "How do you stand there and crack wise when this is all your fault?" "My fault?" "I only lost 44.092 pounds of it, Mother." "It's Pam's fault we had to give the Yakuza 100 kilos." "And this other five, spoiler alert, she ate!" "Yeah, and would now be a good time to talk about Pam's cocaine addiction?" "Or the inspiring story of her heroic struggle to finally triumph over it?" "What are you eating?" "Yogurt!" "Give me that!" "Hey!" "Lick it." "Ugh!" "Well, can't unhear that." "Holy shit, yogurt is amazing!" "Why have I never tried yogurt?" "How have you never tried yogurt?" "Mmm." "I didn't know it was that good." "It's good because it's cocaine!" "Oh, my God." "And little kids eat it?" "Cyril, you said it was locked up." "It is." "In the cage in the pantry." "Then how did she get it?" "That is it!" "You're going to rehab." "What?" "No, I can't!" "And you can't make me!" "Yeah, is that even necessary?" "I think she's in a pretty good place." "She's going and that's final, and..." "I swear to God, if you send me to freaking rehab," "I'll go right to the cops!" "What?" "Come on." "You wouldn't dare." "Oh, yeah?" "Just try..." "Goddamn, Woodhouse." "Only thing for a grass, mum." "And, sir, I'm afraid your breakfast will be four minutes late." "Ugh." "Typical." "What are you doing?" "Come on." "Tighter." "That's tight enough." "We're not making tit bondage porn." "That's a thing?" "Oh, yeah." "Ugh!" "Ditto." "I just don't want her to escape." "You know how strong she is." "Might as well be green and half-deaf." "What if we move the coke and lock her in the cage till she's clean?" "Hey, yeah, sweat it out, like Popeye Doyle." "How long would that take?" "I don't know." "Couple of weeks?" "Try couple of never." "This is Pam we're talking about, the poster child for addictive personality." "What is wrong with you?" "I learned it by watching you." "Oh, my God." "Yeah, spoiler alert." "So, what do you suggest we do?" "We throw her a party." "With an enormous cake!" "Cyril, can we spare another five pounds of cocaine?" "Malory!" "2.27 kilograms, then!" "Who are you, Thomas Corwin Mendenhall?" "Right?" "We're not killing Pam!" "Wait, what?" "Jesus." "Oh, come on in." "Make some more noise." "Just 'cause now you're the fat one?" "Um, I said we were not killing her." "Oh." "And, also, this is a baby." "Ew!" "A baby, by the way, that I did not eat, but to which I will give birth." "Ew!" "Right?" "Well, if she won't go to rehab and you won't let her die with dignity..." "From an overdose of cocaine cake?" "Oh, please." "Change the word "cocaine" to "Cookie Puss"" "and that's how her obituary was going to read anyway." "I may have a simply elegant solution." "Krieger." "Right?" "This place is like a Habitrail, there are secret passages everywhere." "I think that's why the colored maids never felt safe." "They'd be polishing a spittoon or whatever and suddenly," "Grandpa." "Yeah." "And dressed up like a ghost?" "What is it with your family wearing ghost costumes to scare black people?" "What is it with you people making tit bondage pornos in my ancestral home?" "Ooh, yeah." "So what's all this about a solution?" "Aha!" "Yes." "And what is on my finger, you ask?" "I promise you no one is asking that." "Well, they should because this nearly microscopic, wittle-bitty guy is my new and improved mind control chip." "Improved?" "On the one that made Len Trexler think he was a giant lettuce?" "Len Trexler..." "Who the hell is Len Trexler?" "Never heard of him." "It's way improved, and look how tiny." "I don't even need a drill." "I can inject it right through the temple." "Wait, what are we doing?" "Stabbing science into your brain." "What?" "It's for your own good, dear." "Yeah, so you don't wind up giving blowjobs in a bus station toilet." "But for cocaine." "No!" "Let me go!" "Krieger, do you think a chip could cure someone of stage fright?" "No way!" "Nope!" "But you could be famous." "I could be lettuce!" "Now, you listen to me, missy." "You are getting a brain chip, and then you're going on the Grand Old Opera, and I don't care if it kills you..." "Pam, honey, just calm down!" "Somebody do something!" "Nobody do anything!" "Lana." "Lana!" "Krieger!" "Yeah, I'm on it." "Ow!" "Idiot." "Pam!" "Lana!" "This is only somewhat like that old Gypsy woman said!" "Lana." "What?" "God shit damn it, Archer, what?" "Uh, never mind." "Archer, I..." "The last thing you need right now is a big, shit-eating "I told you so."" "But it's exactly what you deserve." "And, Krieger, I hope you have a lot more where this came from because..." "Super." "Hunting women to force them to have surgery against their will." "It's for Pam's own good." "She'll die if she doesn't quit eating cocaine." "And who's going to die if you don't get rich managing Cheryl's singing career?" "Maybe you." "Now, get out there and have some fun!" "How could we not?" "Woodhouse, I swear to God, if you tell me lunch is four minutes late..." "No, sir." "There's a Mr. Holly here." "Sorry, an Agent Holly." "From the FBI." "But lunch is still a firm 12:00." "Firm 12." "You know, as in inches?" "Jesus, 0.3048 meters." "Hi." "Welcome to Nazi Canada!" "Why is the FBI here?" "Did he show you a warrant?" "No, sir, he..." "Then tell him to go piss off, he can't come inside without a warrant." "He..." "Well, unless you invite him in." "He's not a vampire, idiot." "Plus, it's daytime." "If invited in, law enforcement can enter your home without a warrant." "Once inside, under the doctrine of "plain view,"" "anything illegal, say, a truckload of cocaine in the kitchen, can be lawfully seized as evidence." "They can also enter a private residence under any number of exigent circumstances, like providing emergency assistance to an occupant, say, if they heard someone screaming..." "Good morning." "No, sir, good day." "I insist that you leave immediately, as you have entered this residence unlawfully." "You want to jump in here, Yoda's dad?" "I invited him in." "Woodhouse!" "And once you do that, you know, we are in." "Not unlike vampires." "See?" "What?" "Be that as it may, why are you here?" "Oh, just checking in, making sure you folks aren't engaging in treason, espionage or anything else illegal." "Well, I can assure you..." "Like drugs." "Hmm?" "Cocaine?" "Nope." "Yakuza?" "Shootout?" "Mmm-mmm." "Nope." "No one here was shot by the Yakuza?" "Well, I think we'd remember that." "Then what's his problem?" "Vasectomy." "Piles." "Gout." "Mumps." "Gout mumps?" "Progeria!" "He's just a little boy." "But whatever is wrong with him..." "Gout mumps." "...is none of your business, and since nothing in plain view would lead a reasonable person to suspect illegal activity," "I demand that you..." "Nobody move!" "Well?" "They can also do what's known as a..." "Protective sweep!" "Case law regarding search-and-seizure is actually quite interesting..." "What about the cocaine?" "...admissible as evidence, but only if he sees it." "So we have to keep him out of the kitchen." "All right, fan out!" "Agent Holly is the prime target, but..." "So, just so we're clear, you want us to tranquilize a federal agent?" "Do you have a better idea?" "I do not." "Then we just slap some panties and rouge on him, pose him with Gillette, whose fault this is, make some glossy 8-by-10s." "I'll do it!" "I have a camera!" "Dibs!" "And then I doubt we'll be hearing from Agent Holly in the future." "Or you could pose him with Woodhouse." "What?" "God knows, he's a little GILF." "Ew!" "That's a thing?" "How do you not know the different kinds of porn?" "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!" "Tell that to your cellmate!" "Now, go!" "You scared the shit out of me!" "Ugh!" "What, literally?" "Seriously, dude, what is up with you?" "I could walk, and now I can't, and ain't nobody loves old Ray no more." "Well, yeah, you're disgusting." "But, you, I am totally digging this whole Queen Kong vibe." "My God, are they torturing a woman?" "Hang on, ma'am!" "I'm a federal agent, and I'm coming!" "By God, I am coming!" "Okay, you three head upstairs..." "Hang on." "I'm going to the kitchen to make sure he doesn't stumble onto the coke." "Hang on." "What?" "Question." "What?" "Are we not saying "phrasing" anymore?" "Which, that's fine, whatever, but if we're doing a new thing and nobody told me, that I'd have a problem with." "Oh, screw me!" "Said Ripley to the android Bishop." "Wait, hang on." "Um..." "God damn it!" "What was wrong with "phrasing"?" "Nothing!" "I'm fine." "Just get out, leave me alone!" "I just need to be sure you're not being held here against your..." "That is a federal offense!" "I said, get out!" "Oh, hey, remind me to reboot the CPU in Ray's spine so he can walk again." "What?" "A reboot?" "That's all it takes?" "Beep-boop." "He's been paralyzed for months." "What the hell have you been waiting for?" "Think how much happier he'll be now." "Or, and I'm just spitballing here," "I find Holly first, show him the coke, get immunity, testify against them, then you and I go into witness protection and spend the rest of our miserable lives on the run, hounded by the fact that we betrayed our friends." "Oh..." "Or I get arrested and give birth in a super-max prison and..." "Oh, wait." "Does the baby grow up in prison or..." "Hello, old friend." "What the shit, Archer?" "Hang on." "I knew you'd shoot without looking." "Oh, really, you know me that well?" "Well enough to know you're down here wondering if witness protection ever sends people to the Virgin Islands." "Well, in case you'd forgotten," "I have an unborn child to think about!" "Jesus Christ, Lana, who can forget?" "It's baby this, baby that." "Aw..." "Baby Archer, who's a jeawous baby?" "What?" "Holy shit, do you have anemia?" "No." "Uh, edema, hypertension, preeclampsia, Braxton Hicks contractions, pica?" "GERD?" "Lana, do you have GERD?" "How do you know about the various possible complications of pregnancy?" "Archer?" "Maybe I looked it up." "Why?" "I was concerned about you." "Blow me!" "Just making sure you're not into preggo porn." "Oh, God damn it!" "That can't be a thing!" "It is absolutely a thing, and do you just not have the Internet, or..." "I have Minitel, okay?" "A, not the Internet, B, only works in..." "France, Lana." "Okay, um, thanks for your concern, and I don't know what you think you heard about witness protection, but..." "They don't make babies grow up in prison, Lana." "Yeah, right?" "They take them away the minute they're born and send them to an orphanage." "No, not the minute they're..." "That very minute, Lana!" "They don't even dry them off!" "So if I were you, I'd run out that door while I still had a chance." "But Archer, I..." "I'd also waste five precious minutes of my head start in the race to freedom giving that swell guy Archer a combination good-bye/thank-you blowjob." "Asshole." "Yeah, or a rim job." "What do you care?" "You're never going to see him again." "I can't." "I know." "I was kidding, stupid." "I mean I can't leave you, stupid!" "This is the FBI!" "Open this door!" "Well, not now, stupid." "And so, wait." "Where did we land on that blowjob?" "Sorry, rim job." "Do you hear me?" "Open this door!" "Obstructing a federal agent is a felony punishable by up to 20 years imprisonment, if said obstruction results in the bodily injury of said agent, which I think may have just happened to said agent's rotator cuff." "Twenty years?" "Lana, look at all that coke!" "Twenty years is just going to be the Bacos on our prison salad." "Besides, technically, Woodhouse is the one obstructing." "Archer!" "Relax." "They don't send people that old to prison." "It costs, like, two grand a day just to keep them alive." "I'm talking about us!" "Hmm." "I don't know." "100 bucks?" "Depends who you ask, Lana." "Liberals say this much, conservatives say this much..." "So, now you're just dicking around?" "Yes." "Between the FBI and a ton of cocaine." "Yes." "So, can I assume you have a plan?" "Yes." "I mean, I don't, but you can..." "Ow!" "Ow!" "Ow!" "Ow!" "I'm coming!" "Said Ripley to..." "Ow!" "God damn it, woman!" "Come on!" "Why are you slowing down?" "Need..." "Got to..." "More cocaine." "So, please don't take this the wrong way, because I'm loving being your Esmeralda, but you may have a problem." "And it sounds like the solution is more cocaine, so turn left up there." "But why are you leaving?" "They can't compel a husband and wife to testify against each other!" "Oh, yeah?" "They may not have to compel me." "And what is that supposed to mean?" "Why don't you ask that guy you never heard of, Len Trexler?" "How can I?" "I've never heard of him." "You wouldn't know the truth if it bit you on the ass and held on, would you?" "Ron, wait!" "What?" "Well, if you insist on being an ass, I can't stop you, but there is the small matter of my putting the deed to my apartment in your name." "It's your loss!" "I'll mail you your furs." "Don't you dare!" "At the very least, I insist on a bonded courier!" "Ron?" "Ow!" "Lana, cut it..." "Ow!" "What's this door made out of, Mithril?" "Just once, why can't you take anything seriously, just once?" "I was serious about that rim job." "Ow!" "Seriously, please stop hitting me." "What the..." "Oh, thank God!" "Cyril?" "Wait." "How did you..." "This house is insane." "And scary and gross, and I'm pretty sure I smelled a skeleton." "No, you definitely smelled a skeleton." "Well, this is great!" "How?" "I inhaled skeleton!" "Because now the coke is getting eaten by Pam!" "Quick, make the wall spin around again!" "It just kind of spun by itself!" "Jesus Christ, have you people never even heard of Scooby Doo?" "Oh, come on!" "Uh, Pam?" "Ah, crap." "Oh, my God." "That's so freaking unsafe." "Okay, Krieger, Cyril, get in there, and we'll spin you back around." "Archer..." "Why do I have to go back in there?" "Because I said so!" "Yeah, plus skeletons?" "Archer?" "Got it." "Oh!" "God damn it!" "Godspeed, you meddling kids." "And sir, I'm afraid your breakfast will be four minutes late." "Yeah, duh, I already berated you." "Woodhouse, get away from the door!" "God damn it!" "Just what do you people think the letters FBI stand for?" "I bought a T-shirt once where it stood for "Female Body Inspector."" "God, is Myrtle Beach not the best?" "Pull a stunt like this again, you'll never make it back to Myrtle Beach." "I probably wasn't going to, anyway." "Turns out it's actually not the best." "And you actually have no right to search this house." "As you can see, there's nothing illegal going on." "Maybe not now, but I know you still have a lot of international contacts from your ISIS days." "Mexico, Colombia, the Orient." "I bet it wouldn't be too hard to get set up in the drug trade." "Well, you'd be..." "We're not drug dealers, Agent Holly." "Good, because I'll be watching you like a hawk that's been bred with an eagle." "To produce some sort of eagle-eyed super-hawk." "With a badge." "So, am I crazy, or is he super weird?" "Well, I'm torn, Lana, I really am." "I want to say both, but I also don't want you to stop my heart again, so..." "Who's da widdle baby?" "Who's da widdle baby?" "Who's da widdle baby?" "Yes, he is, widdle, little baby!" "Wait." "The brain chip is in there?" "I told you it was small." "Said Ripley to the..." "No, doesn't work there." "Yeah, it's crap." "Okay, I actually only have one brain chip, so..." "Who's our lucky winner?" "Hmm." "I guess we have to decide if we want regular lame Cheryl and a Pam who's not going to overdose on cocaine and die, or potentially famous country singer Cheryl and a Pam who..." "Tits." "Flip a coin?" "No." "And, yeah, he's a weirdo, but I think Agent Holly's right." "We do have a lot of international connections." "So, I'm thinking I should take a trip down old Mexico way, maybe Colombia, or even Southeast Asia, or..." "Hey, where's Ron?" "Never heard of him." "Lana, let it go." "Jesus." "But maybe we should try to sell out to an international cartel." "But let me be clear." "You won't be gallivanting around under the pretense of work just to visit the fleshpots of the world." "This isn't ISIS." "No, I..." "And it definitely isn't your semester abroad." "What?" "Come on, that's..." "Hey, I don't think we need to go into all the..." "Cobra whiskey and lady boys." "I mean..." "Ha!" "Shut up." "You shut up!" "And Krieger?" "I trust the brain chip implant was a success?" "I think." "I mean, it's in there and she's alive." "Now we just have to wait to see if there are any adverse side effects." "Uh..." "Cheryl?" "Nah, Cheryl's gone." "I'm Cherlene now." "And if somebody don't fry me six goddamn eggs and some Carolina fries," "I would personally be shocked, shocked, I tell you, if by morning this place ain't burned to the ground." "And I'm not a doctor, but, I mean, I'm definitely a doctor, so." "No, I think we're good." "Yup. yup, yup."