Original subtitles

PAM: Jeez Larue, can you believe this?

A mandatory meeting at 7 a.m.?

Wonder what crawled up her butt. Ugh, there's no telling.

Our bodies are aswarm with microscopic organisms, Pam.

Literally aswarm.

Wait, what? What have you heard?

About the staff meeting?

Oh, right, yes. Never mind.

Then may I suggest we get up there...

...so we don't have to find out what "grave consequences" means?

It means-- In the context of her memo.

Jesus, what's up his butt?

I think the important thing now is that we don't start any sort of panic.

Hurry up, you ding-dongs.

LANA: Wait, wait, wait, I'm coming. Hurry up.

Come on, come on, come on. Oh, keep your panties on.

One step ahead of you.

Or am I?

Wait. Is Archer blowing this off? ARCHER: No. Hold the door. Hold the door.

RAY: I am. It's not doing anything.

Damn it, Ray, hold the fricking door. Oh, no, it's Maximum Overdrive all over--

[ARCHER GRUNTING]

Oh, good, you made it.

Look, Ray, one is red and one is green. What are you, color blind?

I am, actually.

Typical. Of what?

So does anybody have any idea what this meeting is about?

Well, if I know Miss Archer-- Butt bugs.

Ha, what? Not what I was--

Ugh, that was a figure of speech. They all are.

Hey. Will you quit yelling?

Will you? Yes.

Hey. Remain calm.

Do not panic.

No one's panicking, Krieger. Only because they haven't hatched yet.

Who? What?

What hasn't hatched? What?

Quit yelling!

What hasn't hatched? I've said too much.

Krieger, I swear to--

[ALL GASP]

We're doomed. Oh, my God.

Oh, my God. Remain calm.

Do not panic. Krieger, shut up.

See? It's broken. Ray.

Archer? Hang on. Ray, Cyril, give me a hand here.

[MEN GRUNTING]

Lana.

What? You....

Should be doing this. You know....

[LAUGHING]

[MEN GRUNT]

CHERYL: Oh, my God, we work in a coal mine?

Carol, shut up.

You're not my coal mine supervisor!

Yup. Hey, guys?

[MEN GRUNTING]

Oh, damn it.

CHERYL: What? RAY: What is it?

Well, thanks to Ray, who let's just all assume broke the elevator somehow...

...we're stuck at the top.

Oh, God.

[ELEVATOR CREAKING]

I hope.

PAM: Hello? CHERYL: Hello!

PAM: Hello! CHERYL: Hello?

PAM: Hello? CHERYL: Hello!

PAM: Hello! CHERYL: Hello?

Stop it. No one else can hear you because no one else is here yet.

Not that other people actually work here. What do you mean? Where'd they go?

Uh, remember when the office shut down and we spent an entire year as coke dealers?

What, so people just quit?

And on the subject of things that don't work here anymore, my phone.

CYRIL: Damn it. I don't even turn--

I am sans bars. Yeah, you're not gonna get a signal.

I installed an RF jammer on the roof.

Of the building? No, of the elevator.

Why? RAY: You did what?

Ahem. And for what possible reason?

So people would quit staring at their phones and talk to each other.

Okay. Well, then let's open the-- RAY: One, two, three, go.

Trapdoor. Ray, open the trapdoor.

He can't. Wha--?

Oh, my God, Cyril, please.

I am way stronger than you.

That being said, this thing's stuck.

It's not stuck. It's locked from the outside.

Wait, what? It's not for stranded passengers to get out.

It's for rescue crews to get in.

The last thing they want is people crawling around on top of a malfunctioning elevator car.

Who is "they"?

Big Elevator.

Not a thing.

And why do you know so much about elevators?

I don't know. It's a hobby.

I guess I've just always been fascinated by them.

I honestly have no response to that.

Anyway, I bet the top of the car smashed right into the motor, so--

Yeesh. Hope the radio jammer's okay.

Ow! Ow, ow, ow!

Heh, thanks, Krieger. I think we all needed that.

And besides, we don't need cell phones. We have a--

Elevator phone. Cyril, try that.

I am, if you'd shut up.

Oh, gross. This phone is all sticky.

Yeah, mine at home gets bad sticky. Of course it does.

And since when are you elevator boss? Birth?

And it's dead. Typical.

Okay, Ray. Interface.

I'm sorry? With the controls. Beep, boop, boop, boop.

Come on, cyborg. R2-D2 it.

R2-D2 it.

Yeah, probe around in there and whatever. Shut down the tractor beam.

With what, my dick?

I-- However you normally do it.

I don't normally do it.

I know, but this is an emergency.

Hey! Hey!

ARCHER: Damn it, Carol, there's nobody-- Shut up, stupid, it's Milton.

[MILTON WHIRRING]

Go get help, boy.

[MILTON BEEPING]

There's no time. Go get help.

Get help how? It's a toaster.

Well-- Well, at the very least, maybe he'll bring back toast.

Speaking of toast, I don't know about you...

...but I didn't eat any breakfast.

Hey, wait a second.

Get your own goddamn bear claw.

Cyril, what is that? Is that a bagel? No. Get off. Jeez, it's just napkins.

Get the napkins. Let's just take it down a--

Shut up, we're all gonna starve! Get away.

Guys, come on. Hey, stop.

Knock it off. Please. Hey.

Easy. Hey. Hey. Pam, stop that.

Everybody, calm--

[HIGH-PITCHED RINGING]

[INDISTINCT DIALOGUE]

Asshole. Shit.

What the hell? I'm sorry.

Seriously, I'm sorry. I sincerely apologize for doing that.

Archer, if you do that again-- I swear to God, I won't do it again.

You're listening for once.

That being said, I swear to God, I will do it again.

Asshole.

Ray, shut up. Cyril, let's get that sweater vest off, buddy.

I'm sorry? I know, but nobody makes you wear them.

I-- Why do you want it?

As like a tablecloth or whatever.

We're all gonna put our food in the middle, then I'll be in charge of rationing it out.

Why do you think you would be in charge? Because I've been lost at sea.

Ha. What? I was lost at sea, Lana...

...and we had to ration the food and water.

Well, we should have. I actually ate it all while the other guy was asleep.

Why tell us that story? If anything, that proves my point.

People like me are exactly why we have to ration our food and water.

People like you who?

The strong, like me and you and Pam...

...who will naturally prey on the weak...

...like the rest of them.

[SIGHS]

Maybe we should pool it. We don't know how long we're gonna be in here.

Yeah, give it up, weakie. Pam, shut up. I'll start.

Here's maybe six ounces of bourbon.

If Cyril would hurry it up already.

For the love of God, will you just--?

Wait a minute. How exactly is this supposed to work?

It puts the vest on the floor, we put food and drink on the vest.

Yeah, but where on the floor?

There's no room. It'll get kicked over.

Okay, so we tie the vest into like a pouch, and--

God's sake man, it has no sleeves. The food will just fall out the neck hole.

Well, then it's official. The sweater vest is literally good for nothing.

Hey, you know what--? Besides how to dress like an adult?

Well, that's the only thing you do like an adult.

Burn.

Yeah, total burn. I hope I don't start crying later...

...when I'm driving an automobile to or from a bar.

After having sex with a prostitute.

Which is the most adult thing a person could possibly do.

I like him in vests. Me too.

Yeah, it works for him.

Well, thanks, ladies, that's-- No, no.

Shut up. I need to think.

About what? Look, this isn't that hard, people.

We've got a bagel, four coffees, a quart of beer....

Ha, ha. A quart?

This a 40, shorty. Thanks, Omar.

And on top of that, we've got, I'm guessing, two flasks of bourbon.

I didn't know if I'd have time for lunch.

And, Krieger? Coffee? Uh, no.

Tea? No.

What is it, soup?

Define soup.

Define barf. Oh, good Lord.

Would it be safe to say nobody wants to eat what's in your Thermos?

Ahh! Sweet Jesus God, I would hope so.

Okay, so how about we all agree to hold on to our food and drinks for now...

...if for no other reason than--

Pam. Pam.

Oh, come on. Pam, stop it.

[BELCHES]

Oh, God, that wasn't just bear claw. What did you eat for breakfast?

[BELCHES]

Linguine and clam sauce.

ALL: Ew.

Did you wake up on the docks?

[BELCHES]

But I don't know about those clams, though.

As I was saying, before you, Pam, drank a third of a gallon of malt liquor...

...maybe we shouldn't eat or drink too much, because--

Yes, Pam? I have to pee.

Come on. You just drank a 40.

That's what I was trying to say. I'm not a fricking mind-reader.

In her defense, you didn't finish. Yeah.

Pam, shut up. Ahh! I have an idea.

Okay, wait, does it have anything to do with our current situation?

Yes. Okay, what is it?

We are stuck in an elevator.

The idea, not our current situation.

Well, I'm not a fricking mind-reader.

Oh, my God, what if I am?

Then I guess you'd know what we're all thinking right this very minute.

Okay.

You wanna drink, You wanna lecture us, you want more bear claws...

...you wanna smoke, you wanna masturbate...

...and you're scared we'll figure out you're a Krieger clone.

What? That's-- That's all just common sense.

Common sense that she thinks I wanna masturbate?

Come on, Cyril, for most of us, she just rattled off our obvious addictions.

I'm not addicted to lecturing people.

[ALL LAUGHING]

Lana, are you kidding?

Oh, come on, that's--

All right. And what are you laughing at, Stroker Ace?

I'm not addicted to masturbating.

Cyril, come on, hand on the Bible, lie detector, gun to your head...

...you don't wanna masturbate right now.

Well, not in this elevator.

Well, I wanna drink, so....

And I wanna smoke, so....

Cyril ought to be able to jack it.

Pam, shut up. Well, we tried.

And just where exactly were you hoping to smoke that cigarette?

Magnum, P.I.'s house, but since I'm stuck in here with you people....

Hey. What the shit, woman?

The shit is that I am breastfeeding, so you will not smoke in this elevator.

You wanna bet? Do you?

They're both addicted to gambling. And you're just a regular Sylvia Browne.

I also have extreme claustrophobia.

Psst! Cyril, try to rub one out. I do not want to masturbate.

Oh, for-- Not even watching that?

ARCHER: Hey, guys, come on.

Hey. Much stronger hands.

[GUN COCKS]

I'm serious. I cannot stress this enough. You do not want tinnitus.

How about cirrhosis? Probably not that either.

Now then, Carol? You had an idea?

Ahh! Are you a mind-reader too?

No, you told us that you had one.

What? Oh, right. Yes.

We all jump up and down at the same time to unjam this stupid thing...

...it plummets down into the basement...

...and we boing into that giant spring at the bottom of the elevator shaft...

...and then are safe.

So suicide pact. An oldie but a goodie.

Should we vote? Who's in?

Nope, not doing that. No.

No, that works. I've heard about people doing that.

You just want an excuse to wet your pants. I don't need an excuse.

Yeah, what is this, Soviet Russia?

Wait, are you seriously asking?

I mean-- What's the deal? Would that really work?

Wha-- You're asking the guy with a Thermos full of human-being soup.

It's-- That's not even a-- If--

What is this, Soviet Russia?

Right? Oh, my God.

Cyril, shut up. You shut up!

Krieger, would that work?

Huh.

Maybe? What do you mean "maybe"?

First, there's no giant spring at the bottom. It's a hydraulic buffer.

You don't wanna be in the elevator when it slams.

No. At the last second, you just jump up in the air.

How would you know when to jump? You'd give me a lecture.

Burn.

Ray. She burned her.

I know, but-- Nope, shut up, because here's the thing.

Safety brakes. That's actually what Elisha Otis invented.

Not the elevator itself but the safety brakes to stop it.

Too bad they couldn't stop diphtheria.

So, wait, would the brakes stop us? Maybe?

Define maybe. Oh, my God. Come on.

I don't know if they're damaged in the crash. Okay, but what's the worst case?

Worst case is we die. Impaled on your boner.

I do not have an erection.

Well, maybe not now, but, say, you get a severe head injury on impact.

Boom, priapism.

Meanwhile, your bodies are smashing around like crash dummies...

...until, one at a time, you are each impaled on my priapic erection.

Yeah. Like meat at a Brazilian steakhouse.

Ugh, please don't talk about food. Yeah, I'm figuratively starving.

For meat or Cyril's priapism? Both.

I can't take it. I am smoking. Ray.

Ow! Get your foot off my lighter. Ray, I am serious.

RAY: Goddamn it. I will put my mouth right next to the hole and blow into it.

Grr! Fine, but-- Wait a minute.

Well, then I'm peeing. Where?

I think I can get it all back in here. You can't.

Wait a minute. Everybody, stop.

ALL: What? Two things.

I really think we need to have a serious talk about getting phrasing back in the mix.

RAY: Holy shit. PAM: Let it go.

Fine, whatever. No more phrasing.

What was thing two?

Oh, nothing.

I'm just having a stroke. RAY: No, you're not.

It's Milton. He came back.

Yeah. ARCHER: Hey.

Milton. Here you are.

[WATER RUSHING]

ARCHER: What the--?

Goddamn it, Pam. KRIEGER: No, no, no.

For the love of God, woman! LANA: Oh, come on!

PAM: I thought the hole was bigger.

[BOTTLE CLINKING]

I mean....

[MILTON WHIRS]

Oh, it's soaking wet down here. ARCHER: Oh, my God.

Get it before it gets on me.

With what? There's nothing to wipe it up with.

Aha! Maybe it is good for something.

Are you crazy? That's cashmere.

Wha--? Oh, my God, sorry.

What, so it's non-absorbent?

Lana, it's cashmere. There are rules.

I'm sorry, Cyril, I didn't know.

RAY: Oh, son of a bitch. ALL: What?

Jesus. What? CYRIL: What's wrong?

RAY: Guess we can go ahead and use my suit pants.

You can just say "pants."

Pam wet your pants.

It's basically everywhere. If it gets on my suede boots....

Okay. Jeez.

Jeez. CYRIL: Oh, Lord.

Why aren't you wearing underwear? PAM: What?

Shit, did Red Dawn happen and nobody told me about it?

[SPEAKING IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE]

[SQUISHING]

There. Happy?

ALL: No. Yes.

Hey, and over here too, because if it gets on these boots...

...I will not be responsible for my actions. Right? Isn't it just so liberating?

Hey, what's Milton doing? RAY: What do you--? He's making toast.

I wanna see. Well, too bad, I'm in the hole.

Stop torturing me. Stop torturing me.

Oh, for-- Ray, take a picture of him.

[RAY GROANS]

RAY: Where's my stupid phone?

[IN RUSSIAN ACCENT] In Soviet Russia... Pam.

...toaster take picture of you.

Doesn't even make sense.

KRIEGER: You don't make sense. ARCHER: It totally does.

The KGB bugs your apartment, they put a camera--

All right. Jesus Christ. RAY: Holy shit.

ALL: What? RAY: I've got a signal.

PAM: Oh, my God. ARCHER: Oh, my God. Yes.

Yeah. I got, like, half a bar.

Call 911. Call 911.

In Soviet Russia-- ARCHER: Pam, stop it.

Yeah, seriously.

WOMAN: 911 operator. What is your emergency?

Hello? Can you hear me?

WOMAN: Hello? I can barely hear you.

I'm trapped in an elevator!

WOMAN: I'm sorry. You said you were trapped in an elevator?

Wha-- Yes.

WOMAN: Ma'am, you have no call to get snippy with me.

RAY: Wha--? Heh-heh-heh. "Ma'am."

WOMAN: And for the record, being stuck in an elevator is not an emergency.

CHERYL: Are you fricking kidding me? ARCHER: Yes, it is.

WOMAN: So I suggest you call your super.

No, no, no.

[LINE DISCONNECTS]

Ooh, call her back and tell her Carol's got crippling claustrophobia.

Wait, what? Aaah!

No. Jesus.

Goddamn it.

[LINE RINGING]

WOMAN: 911 operator. What is your emergency?

I am stuck in an elevator--

WOMAN: Ma'am, pranking 911 is a felony. I--

WOMAN: I am blocking this number.

No, no, no.

[LINE DISCONNECTS]

[LAUGHING]

"Ma'am."

Oh, my God. We need this too.

We do, kind of.

[ALL LAUGHING]

911. Burn.

Ma'am.

Plus-- Plus, you're covered in piss.

Ah! Ray. Ray, call Malory.

Yes. You're not gonna do that.

Wait, call who? Malory. I bet she's downstairs.

She can call an elevator repair guy.

RAY: Oh, yeah. Shit. Hang on. Yeah, hang on. Ray?

RAY: Hang on. I'm saying "hang on."

RAY: Hang on. What are you, deaf? What are you, color blind?

ALL: Whoa!

Too soon. Yeah, inappropes.

She said, flapping her wildly unkempt vagina at her co-workers.

Oh, please, you've all seen it.

Wait-- Oh, my God, we actually have.

And yours. What? Krieger hasn't.

Well, maybe not in person, but-- Uh-uh-uh!

Stop talking.

Everybody, stop talking. Trying to make a phone call.

ARCHER: No, no, no.

[PHONE RINGING]

I'm not here.

ARCHER: Are you tired of constantly getting stuck in elevators?

Do you wish there was a way to not keep constantly getting stuck in elevators?

Well, friend, wish and be tired no longer.

[ALL SCREAMING]

[WHISTLING NONCHALANTLY]

Oh, come on.

Typical.

[SCREAMING]

Hmm.

[SCREAMS]

What in the name of God do you people think you're doing?

Was, um--?

Was there not a staff meeting? Well, there was.

I blocked out the entire morning for us all to do a team-building exercise together.

Team building? Again?

You got the elevator stuck on purpose.

Wait. What? What?

What? What are you talking about?

Trapping us in here like--

Piss-covered animals. Ocelots.

This was the team-building exercise.

What are you--? No, it wasn't.

We were going to watch Vision Quest.

Huh.