Mondays 10:00 PM on FX
Archer

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.

That so hard? Count Snackula.

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.

Rona: Where's my journal?
Pam: I maybe kind of sort of took it?
Gillette: Why would you do that?
Cheryl: Did you think it was meat?

Archer: Your stance. You're fighting yourself.
Rona: Excuse me?
Archer: You're all rigid and stiff. Which I'm all for. Rim shot.

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