Archer (TV series)

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Archer (2010–Present) is an animated comedy series on FX created by Adam Reed.

Contents

[edit] Season 1

[edit] Mole Hunt

Archer: I have to go. But if I find one single dog hair when I get back, I'll rub...sand...in your dead little eyes.
Woodhouse: Very good, sir.
Archer: [pause] I also need you to 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]
Mallory: 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.
Mallory: 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.
Mallory: Have I made myself clear?!
Archer: You're looking for the answer "yes"?
Mallory: 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.
[Later]
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!
[Later]
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.
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: Whoa, I would not push her. 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.
[Later]
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—
Mallory: [Hits Archer with her handbag] 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!

[edit] Training Day

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?!
Cyril: YOU GAVE LANA 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?
[Later]
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 not.
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.

[edit] Diversity Hire

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.
[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 scrimps on a freaking shredder?
Lana: OK, fine, I can't prove anything right now.
Mallory: 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?
Mallory: You never heard that? How Hoover was a huge cross-dressing chicken hawk?
Lana: I had not.
Mallory: 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?!
Mallory: What are you, deaf and racist?
Lana: I'm black!
Mallory: 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.
Mallory: 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.

[edit] Killing Utne

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 Mallory 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!
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.

[edit] Honeypot

Mallory: 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.
Mallory: 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."
Mallory: Jesus GOD, Sterling, schoolgirls?
Archer: No! They're just costumes.
Mallory: And I suppose that makes it better?
Archer: ...Doesn't it?
[Later]
Woodhouse: I have ascertained the target, sir. He's actually quite handsome.
Archer: And I suppose that makes it better?
Woodhouse: Doesn't it?
[Later]
Mallory: 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.
Mallory: 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: 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!

[edit] Skorpio

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.
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: 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: These corporate bag munchers owe me $630 for my GODDAMN FLEX ACCOUNT.
Malory: But even though Cyril may be clingy...
Lana: Oh, Saran Wrap could take a lesson.

[edit] Skytanic

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.
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!!!
Lana: WHAT?!?
Archer: Danger Zone.
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 a smoother than a veal cutlet!
Lana: CAP-tain LAM-mers!
Archer: Nice read, Velma.
Mallory: You're driving Cyril straight toward another woman.
Lana: Cyril? With another woman? Mallory, seriously. Look at me.
[Cut to Cheryl in bed, with Cyril on top on her]
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.
[Lana finds Archer running away from the bomb]
Lana: Where the fuck are you going?!
Archer: To get my turtleneck! I'm not diffusing a bomb in this.
Captain Lammers: The stock price could only go up, they said. Well guess what?
Archer: Uh... it didn't?
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!

[edit] The Rock

[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.
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 it's potential as a tactical garment. The Tactical Turtleneck, Lana. The... Tactleneck!
Pam: Holy shit, you geeks are badass.

[edit] Job Offer

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?!
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!

[edit] Dial M for Mother

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!
Mallory: 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]
Cyril: But you're gay!
Ray: Girl, please, nobody's that gay.

[edit] Season 2

[edit] Swiss Miss

Archer: I know, right? Totally McQueen!!
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!

[edit] A Going Concern

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: 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 - drive 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!

[edit] Blood Test

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: Which answers my next question.

[edit] Pipeline Fever

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: WOOOHOOOOOOO!!! THIS MUST BE WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE SEX WITH ME!
Lana: HOW CAN AN AIR BOAT BE SELFISH?!
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.
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.

[edit] The Double Deuce

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.
Cyril: You know tontines are illegal.
Pam: So are all kinds of shit, but look at these odds. Half the people that work here are field agents...
Cyril: ...who get killed in the line of duty all the time! And the control room...
Pam: ...is just one great big asbestos lawsuit waitin' to happen.
Cyril: Yeah, here are some more claims forms.
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.
Archer: He might have a tiny hangover...
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?
Reggie: You scoundral. Is that brandy?
Woodhouse: Oh no sir, just water.
Reggie: Water? Oh, never touched the stuff. Fish fuck in it.
Reggie: Good God, man, are you hourly?

[edit] Tragical History

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 head'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, who’s 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: Am I getting some signals?
Archer: Come back to me, I can do better.

[edit] Movie Star

[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: 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.

[edit] Stage Two

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.
[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: 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!
Cyril: Well he certainly doesn't have cancer in his fists.
Ray: Nah, he's beatin' his ass.

[edit] Placebo Effect

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.
Malorie: 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 1: AAAAAARRRGGHHHHHH!
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 whore!
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 say anything]
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 "Hondurans" 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 in charge!
Mobster 1: Mikey Hannedy... if you say one word 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 closes his eyes in frustration and shoots the second mobster]
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.

[edit] El Secuestro

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: It's a shitbox, they're weird.
Pam: Screw them! Especially Cheryl, I hope you kidnap the shit out of her.
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!

[edit] Jeu Monegasque

Malory: I don't care if it's a Wehrmacht reunion party, this isn't my first Grand Prix you know.
Ray: Viola!
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.
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.
[repeatedly]
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 looka 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.
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 tyres 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.

[edit] White Nights

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: 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: Good bye, Mr. Archer.
Archer: Hey. Fuck you, you douche bag.

[edit] Double Trouble

Archer: [sounding like Cyril] Hello...
Malory: What in the name of prepaid venereal disease do you think your 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.
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!

[edit] Season 3

[edit] Heart of Archness: Part I

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: 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.
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.

[edit] Heart of Archness: Part II

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.

[edit] Heart of Archness: Part III

Noah: Can I just run up to my hovel real quick and get the only extant copy of my thesis?
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.
Lana: What's your blood type?
Archer: How should I know?
Lana: How could you NOT know?
Archer: Who am I, Karl Landsteiner?
[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.

[edit] The Man from Jupiter

Cheryl: BUUUURT REYNOLDS! IS ON LINE ONNNNNEEEE!!!!
Malory: And just how long has he been your hero?
Archer: Since ever!
[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 Mallory]
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 somone else’s name!
[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: $9000.
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 soft 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.
[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!

[edit] El Contador

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 could have been!
Lana: You're looking for Predator aren't you?
Archer:...yes!
Lana: A, he's invisible.
Archer: Not totally, he has a tell-tale shimmer.
Cheryl: If this doesn't work, we just paid a hundred buck 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.
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!
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.

[edit] The Limited

Archer: I’ve always wanted to fight on top of a moving train.
Bilko: Well, if I know my boys, you might get your change, 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!
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 housecat'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.

[edit] Drift Problem

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: ...to 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, antipursuit countermeasures in the rear.
Archer: It makes the Mach-5 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.
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!

[edit] Lo Scandalo

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 Mazcalzone
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, actually.
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.
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 our of here, please!
Krieger: Yeah, take that tone.
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. Don't want to know, but you do probably want to go wash your lips now.

[edit] Bloody Ferlin

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.
Randy: [to Ray] You still partial to fried chicken?
Cheryl: [having snapped a rooster's neck] I'll cook it... if someone shaves it or whatever.
Ray: I'm coming out.
Archer: Ha ha, phrasing.
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" meant, until you followed it up with "nonplussed."
Archer: I feel sick. What's happening? Do I have cancer again?
Ray: You drank too much!
Archer: That's a thing?

[edit] Crossing Over

Archer: 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, Brutus!
Russian Soldier: Et me, buddy.
Cheryl: It has to be your place. Mine totally reeks of ocelot piss.
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!

[edit] Skin Game

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

[edit] Space Race: Part I

Krieger: Uhhh ... SMOKEBOMB! [runs away]
[Archer holding baseball mitt up, as ball slowly floats back to him]
Archer: Fuck you, space.

[edit] Space Race: Part II

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!
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!

[edit] Cast

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