Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- And this doesn't? - Well, in a... It's apples and oranges.
Or whatever.
Yeah, well, since Lana broke up with me, I've been finding solace in food.
If and when I am ready for a grandchild...
I'll go to the drugstore and get supplies.
You son of a snack-eating-ass bitch.
- Like a little Archer G.I. Joe. - Mm-hm.
Can't believe Lana and Mother. No respect for people's privacy, no...
- Pretty sexy, picture it. - I have to take care of something.
Nothing. Hundred-to-one he's mine.
...no one, no one, Archer, could ever prove it.
Probably the most expensive candy bar you ever ate, you dunce.
...given your agency's, uh...
- No. - Maybe it was an ice cube.
Because I, too, suffer from sexual addiction.
Dear God, that was my entire stash.
- And yes, maybe I've had a few. - Really?
Escort, you puke. And I'm retired.
And said test will, obviously, be administered by a third party, so...
- Uh-huh. - Prancing around in their stirrup pants.
- Trinette, that was amazing. - Yeah, well, you know...
Trudy Beekman will eat me alive for this.
- Why, just this tray of... - Don't bullshit me, you old dope fiend.