Mondays 10:00 PM on FX
Archer

Lana: Oh My... You're getting off on this!
Archer: And?

Cheryl: You're not my supervisor!
Pam: Shut up! We're going to go to prison.
Cheryl: No, we're not. Say the right stuff and they just send you to a mental hospital for ten months.
Gilette: I just this second realize why you do macrame instead of knitting.
Cheryl: Yeah, no sharp weapons on the ward. They were really strict about that.

Archer: I would have qualified... if I made it to the thing.
Lana: If your aunt has balls, she'd be your uncle.

Here's a sniper out there whose bullet could spark World War III and you idiots are tying up ISIS resources on high school bullshit? Cause I don't really see a downside to that Archer-wise. So load up. There should be a big box of grenades around here somewhere.

Archer

That so hard? Count Snackula.

Archer

Malory: So make her 40.
Cyril: And who's going to play her?
Malory: Me! That's the whole point.
Cyril: You do realize there's a finite amount of Vaseline in the world?

Malory: I think I can sell them on a rewrite, if you fix it.
Cyril: For starters, I don't think you wanna say this guy is as coal black and thick-muscled as a fieldhand.
Malory: I don't need you for content, just for plot structure.
Cyril: Racist overtones aside, it really kinda limits your casting options. I mean, only two, three guys could play that.

You can't have a flasback with a flashforward in it. That's just bad writing.

Cyril

Cheryl: Deaf people are gross.
Pam: Not as gross as the hook hand ones.
Cheryl: Eh? I dunno.

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