Jump to content

Archer (season 1)

From Wikiquote

Seasons: 1 2 3 4 5 - Vice 6 7 8 - Dreamland | Main

The following is a list of quotes from the first season Archer.

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: 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!
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.

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 AC.
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.

Diversity Hire [1.3]

[edit]
Lana: Okay, 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.

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.

Killing Utne [1.4]

[edit]
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.

[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.

Honeypot [1.5]

[edit]
Malory: Jesus God, Sterling, schoolgirls?
Archer: No! They're just costumes.
Malory: 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]
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?

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!

Skorpio [1.6]

[edit]
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.

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]
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... [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!

[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.

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.

Archer: Frickin' ODIN.
Lana: How many are there?
Archer: About a gillion.
Lana: Damn it.
Archer: A gillion gay little copycats.
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!

Job Offer [1.9]

[edit]
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?

Dial M for Mother [1.10]

[edit]
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 woman-y 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.

[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.
[edit]