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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
I'm sorry. And I'm sure I...
Is this really the room where Allen Ginsberg wrote “Howl"?
Be that as it-- Hm.
Hang on, I'm swinging back around. No, you're not. Why?
...but after a few years of feeding tubes and colostomy bags, I resent her...
...but now she won't even take my call?
And now I can't sleep because I'm pretty sure I have a concussion.
What?
Lana, come on, we both know you're-- Quitting, Archer. Yes, exactly.
So guess we're driving through the desert to a backup extraction point?
Heh. I can't. You know...
How about you apologize for being a bitch?! And take your fucking stupid design jacket and go fucking drive a bus to a juvenile detention center!
Archer, thank-- God, is he hit? Tell me he's not hit.
No, but I'm breathing fast.
I mean, what if she had to subdue an enemy agent?
The ISIS Field Agent Aptitude Battery?
Nothing. She quit because you made us fly to Morocco.
But I'll tell her you're not here.
Oh, for the-- Please.
What a surprise. Speaking of...
as stoked about Kazak coming over to ISIS...
See? He really doesn't like guns, Lana. He can't stress that enough.
And while we're on the subject, where the hell is our GPS?
Who just had a lovely birthday carriage ride through Central Park?
What makes you think I need another field agent?
I saw the best minds of my generation Destroyed by madness
Okay, we'll go back for her. But not because you said so.
- I'm sorry? - You should be.