I'll leave you to it.
But if you need anything, well, you know how to whistle,
don't you, Conway?
You know when I was little, I used to pretend
you weren't my mother.
Me, too.
Trudy Beekman booked the very last ticket on this flight,
so it was all meh, meh, meh, I'm Trudy Beekman.
I'm on the co-op board.
And I'm going on a blimp.
Meh!
So yes, I made a phony bomb threat.
Why is that who named like me?
TRINETTE: Why do you think?
I'm asking you why.
Because he's your son, you colossal [BLEEP] idiot.
[SEAMUS COOS]
Toast, damn you! - No!
Toast.
Jeezy pete's, with you people.
Well, at least I'm not a sex addict!
And cue the collective sigh of relief.
Oh, shut up.
Well, Cyril, we did it.
Yeah, we kind of did, didn't we?
A taught, sexy thriller.
[GLASS BREAKS]
Oh, yes.
Take me!
Oh, take me, Cassius!
Mm, honey, you still got it.
Bow chicka bow, bow, a-huh, huh!
We were meeting for drinks!
I mean, obviously, sex was implied, but--
[ARCHER GROANS]
And since when is he your hero?
If you throw that computer on the floor again,
you'll wake up in a mental ward, with total amnesia,
under someone else's name.
Have a good time, Mother.
And I honestly mean that.
Oh, blow it out your ass.
[CHUCKLES]
[TIRES SQUEAL]
(GIGGLING) Oh, Burt!
It's my third-biggest fear.
He brings home a whore and says, we're married.
Oh, and the whore has bangs.
Take me to that spa, and we'll just see how this amnesia holds
up against a sudden, and quite possibly violent,
confrontation with his mother.
Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, bad idea.
Why are you still standing there?
Go!
Wait-- what about Pam?
I'll buy you a new one!
Ow!
[PAM GURGLING]
Oh, quit milking it.
Believe me, if I had the money, I would get the hell
out of this hillbilly Hilton.
Tony Foti, Stringer Records, and I want
to make that little gal famous.
Are you her manager, Mrs--
Oh, no, it's actually "Ms."
It's actually "Mrs."
Will you put a--
It genuinely does not matter.
I'm a bit stressed out about Cherlene getting a record deal.
Right.
And your 10% of it.
Or 50, or whatever.
What?
50?
Mr--
Just Slater.
--has--
Had.
--an important assignment for us,
which I'm sure we can kick right through
the basket for a home run.
I swear to god, if I catch you near this child again--
But--
MALORY: And the implied threat here is that I will shoot you
in the genitals and then sit here sipping amontillado sherry
while you bleed to death.
Mee-beep.
Although, speaking of blowing up--
Malory, she's a baby.
And she weighs exactly as much as she's supposed to,
so you better be feeding her!
I am!
It's just-- hello?
[SIGHS]
Please.
As if I wouldn't feed you.
[AJ FUSSES]
Now, who wants a widdle ice chip?
I don't care if they are in danger.
I am not calling Sterling.
Voicemail hoax!
Bawk, bawk.
I don't care if they're getting stuffed into a wood-chipper.
Mallory?
What happened to Ms. Archer?
Well, technically, they both work for me, so--
So you thought today would be a good day
to try on your big-boy britches right
in the middle of a mystery?
Here's a headline-- Mallory Archer Bankrupt,
Thankless Son to Blame.
AJ was up all night with the croup.
Did you give her bourbon?
You know, I was going to, and then I realized
that, no, I wasn't going to.
Always worked for Sterling.
You don't want to drive all the way out there just to have him
say, on second thought, to make this happen
we're going to need a finger.
Nobody has ever said, to make this happen
we're going to need a finger.
Oh, you'd be surprised.
[ARCHER SHIVERS]
Get up there, and entertain those people.
LANA: How?
Do you want me to do a striptease?
Hm.
That was a joke.
Well, clearly.
(YELLING) You want me to be a whore?
No, not a whore.
Good heavens, no.
You'd be more like a courtesan.
Who men pay for sex.
And sparkling conversation.
I--
And not just men, necessarily.
What?
And actually, they pay me.
[SCOFFS]
And then I pay you a percentage.
A percentage?
If ifs and buts were candy and nuts,
we'd all have a Merry Christmas.
Aw.
And maybe Santa would bring me a new $60,000 seaplane!
And why is it that you don't care about starving?
Oh, I've trained myself to live on a liquid diet.
Sterling, look at me.
Now, I don't know what's wrong, but I promise you,
whatever it is, we'll fix it.
But first, you have to trust us.
Oh, no.
Suit yourself.
Krieger?
KRIEGER: Yup, yup, yup.
No, no, no, no!
- Focus. - Why?
Mother's probably putting together
a rescue plan as we speak.
Mm, should probably check on why their coms are down.
Meh, feels like it can wait.
[EXHALES]
Everything can wait.
Sterling, dear, I'm only doing this
because you are totally incapable of taking care of
yourself and always have been.
That's very sweet.
We've instituted a strict no-drinking-on-duty policy,
with certain, limited exceptions.
Are you into Alistair?
Don't be absurd.
He's your valet.
And yes, he's handsome, and I'm a woman with powerful needs--
Mother, it's OK.
Stop.
I mean, gross.
When you're this great at something, never stop doing it.
You'll figure out the rest.
Like how AJ is great at eating carbohydrates.
Yes, contracts have been drying up,
but I know better things are right around the--
around the-- damn it!
Was the catsuit really necessary?
For me?
No.
It's more for the public.
Oh.
Ugh, still got it.
Thank you, Sterling.
Think, Malory, think.
No, not that.
Think harder!
You're glad he had this trauma because it
made him a great spy.
But now he needs to deal with it to become a better spy.
Ooh, I wouldn't say that.
But yes.
I thought the only principles you stuck to were dry martinis
and never tipping the help.
Apparently, I have a third.
Why are you dressed like that?
Isn't it obvious?
[COUGHING]
Huh?
Guess the old gal's still got it.