More pounds of cocaine lost to Pam, but at least Lana got in some practice feeding a baby. Mallory gives Lana some real talk about how dreadful babies can be, and Cherlene clarifies that all babies should be drowned. Lana concludes that Archer has been trying to hard, but Mallory has a point. How hard is it to sell two thousand measly pounds of cocaine? Make that one thousand seven hundred and eighteen pounds of cocaine, thanks to Pam’s…appetite.
Archer is practicing flying an airplane so that he can smuggle a hundred pounds of cocaine into Colombia. Using surveillance satellite leftover from ISIS, also known as “cable television,” Mallory tries to track down Archer. Unfortunately, all of the cameras were pointed at the GILF cam, which is just as horrifying as it sounds.
Archer needs Ray and Cyril to put their vaginas away and start selling cocaine. They crash into a stereotypical bar which makes Ray feel like a tourist.
It’s Archer’s Snackle Snap that gave away his location. Mallory doesn’t understand why people would want photos of other peoples’ food, so clearly she has never seen my Facebook feed. Anyway, Archer is the life of the bar. “Why bother with coke? I just made a hundred thousand pesos jumping through the window.”
Then, he asks around for The Godmother, and everything gets sketchy. And Archer vomits on Cyril because he has snake poisoning. But not really. He thinks that he hears a truck pull up out front and needed to get away. They’re either heroic vigilantes, or right-wing terrorists. Now, it’s back to the car. Go go go go GO!
Archer kicks one of ‘em in the balls, gathers up Cyril and Ray, and they all drive away one machine gun richer. But the engine is full of cocaine so the car doesn’t drive so good and the paramilitary bad guys catch up. According to Archer, it’s all about machismo. He doesn’t back down and gives them an “uno, dos!” and the bad guys drop their guns. Not because of the machismo, but because The Godmother arrives. And she’s hot.
The Godmother attempts to seduce Archer. She’s not what he expected. He was imagining more of a Mexican Mrs. Garrett. But first business. He claims to have as many kilos of cocaine as are in a shitton, so they toast to new friends. He wakes up wearing a ping pong paddle and a gas mask, and the police. Turns out she’s undercover, in an undercover kind of way. Cyril wonders how long they’ll last in prison, if they’ll even make it to prison. Now, it’s up to Lana to rescue the boys.