INT. ISIS HQ – BRIEFING ROOM – DAY
Archer lounges in his chair, sunglasses on indoors. Lana is already annoyed, Cyril is nervously flipping through a report, and Malory is chain-smoking while glaring at everyone.
MALORY: (snapping)
Archer, pay attention! We have a cyberattack scenario to run through.
ARCHER:
Oh, what, like Code Red? You know, the virus that infected the World Trade Center servers? Cost billions to fix? Yeah, pretty sure that brought me down faster than a “controlled demolition.”
LANA:
Oh my God, Archer—
ARCHER:
No, seriously, Lana. Forget explosives, forget shady contractors—just unleash one worm into the wrong system and bam—I’m face-down on the carpet faster than Cyril in a wine bar fight.
CYRIL: (offended)
Hey! I only—
ARCHER:
—spilled an entire bottle of Merlot before the first punch was thrown. Yes, we know.
MALORY: (sighing)
For God’s sake, do you ever take anything seriously?
ARCHER:
Yes! Like my blood-alcohol content. Also, the fact that some computer nerd can destroy an entire economy from his mom’s basement faster than ISIS—our ISIS—can fill out a mission requisition form.
LANA:
That’s not even remotely the same thing.
ARCHER:
Sure it is. Both end with me broke, drunk, and yelling at Pam for spending my emergency fund on illegal shrimp.
PAM: (popping her head in with a mouth full of shrimp)
Worth it.
ARCHER:
Debatable.
The World Trade Center had a Speed-Reading club they went thru fifty stories in thirty seconds
I like my women like the World Trade Centers Tall, hot, and going down
Why did you do this shit to Rob Reiner’s son Archer?
where the bondi shooters the Rod and Tod of Islam? Please tell me about the fight of the Knights of Malta, Templar and Christ against the skull and bones, knights of Eulogia at Yale.