The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone out to look for work. Just some madness from my tiny mind that takes place after Deadly Prep.
Working with the Criminally Insane
"Can you believe this?" Archer stormed into the bullpen. "Can you believe this?"
He saw Lana writing something at a table. Ray and Pam reading magazines on the couch. And Cheryl standing in the corner eating and sniffing some glue. "I cannot freaking believe this!" Archer shouted.
"Archer we've been over this before," Ray said in a tired voice. "Cyril's not going to change the name of the agency."
"Not that!" Archer barked. "But you were close in guessing Cyril had something to do with my mood."
"So what happened now?" Lana sighed. "I ask knowing that it will be something completely stupid."
"That is where you are wrong, uh…" Archer fumbled for an expression.
"Lana is the New Black?" Cheryl suggested.
"God damn it," Archer grumbled.
"You know…?" Lana gave Cheryl a look.
"It's because Cyril won't give me any hours for my detective license!" Archer barked.
"And you want hours for doing…?" Ray raised an eyebrow.
"Uh this little thing called driving down a highway fighting off Ivy who murdered his partner and tried to frame me for murder?" Archer barked. "And helping Cyril steal thousands of dollars."
"I was right," Lana groaned.
"What do you mean?" Archer snapped. "Why are you on Cyril's side?"
"Because Cyril also has to explain how you got those hours," Lana pointed out. "And something tells me being involved in a murder plot, a high speed chase, blowing up a house and stealing thousands of dollars isn't going to cut it."
"Oh," Archer blinked. "Wait, he has to write down what we did during those hours? He can't just write a number?"
"That's basically how it works," Lana groaned.
"He could always lie," Archer suggested. "Who'd check?"
"The State of California Archer!" Lana snapped. "Which is why I've been working on my own project."
"What?" Cheryl scoffed. "Getting those man hands classified as a disability?"
"I'm going to disable you if you don't shut it!" Lana warned.
"Don't engage her," Pam waved. "What are you working on anyway?"
"My resume," Lana said.
"Why?" Archer asked.
"Because this whole private eye thing isn't going as well as I thought it would," Lana groaned. "Which means I'm working on an exit strategy. Finding out what my job skills are."
"Oh this should be entertaining," Pam scoffed.
"Well I am proficient in Word Office and other computer programs," Lana said.
"Who isn't nowadays?" Cheryl scoffed.
"Besides you?" Lana asked. "I can also type."
"So can five year olds now," Pam rolled her eyes. "What else you got?"
"I am fluent in French, Italian and Romansch," Lana said. "So that's something."
"You know these days that only qualifies you to work as a substitute teacher in a high school language class right?" Pam asked.
"I'm qualified as a counter sniper," Lana said.
"Not exactly too many of those jobs in the business sector," Cheryl snickered. "Wait unless…"
"Headhunters don't use weapons," Pam spoke up.
"Damn. That would be a fun job if they did," Cheryl frowned.
"I have over fifteen years in intelligence and counterintelligence," Lana said.
"From a mostly illegal spy agency," Ray pointed out. "And once a drug cartel/arms dealing/country music agency."
"That might come up on a background check," Pam warned.
"I can bake brownies," Lana said weakly.
"Unless you are Betty Crocker, not a special skill," Ray told her.
"Look I'm just trying to make myself relevant for today's job market!" Lana snapped.
"Yeah like anybody would hire you with your criminal background," Cheryl scoffed.
"And yours!" Lana barked. "You have a criminal background too!"
"Oh that's right," Cheryl remembered. "The whole treason thing. And the break ins and the stabbings and the arson and a few other things I did in high school. And college. And that weekend overseas after graduation. Uh guys, remind me to never go back to Luxembourg ever again. I think there's still a warrant out for my arrest there."
"For what?" Pam asked.
"You can pretty much name it," Cheryl shrugged. "I think I'm going to go burn something now." She walked away.
"And I think I am going to follow her around with a fire extinguisher," Pam got up to follow her.
"Another thing I can put on my resume," Lana wrote down on her paper. "Working with the criminally insane."
"Lana you don't need to worry about a resume," Archer waved. "It won't be long until we get our private eye licenses and then we can take over the agency."
"That could be a long time Archer!" Lana said. "It took us three months before we got even one client!"
"Yes, but now we've had a few," Archer waved.
"And most of that time didn't count," Ray pointed out. "Because we either didn't get paid or were committing a felony."
"Or our clients just up and died on us," Lana added.
"Look you have to figure on average at least five to ten hours a week," Archer said.
"We haven't even gotten five to ten hours a month," Ray gave him a look.
"Okay so we'll round that number down a little," Archer said. "Say we get about five hours a week eventually which means we'll be able to get our licenses in about…Uh, of course you have to consider the variables. Like holidays, vacations and sick leave."
"Of course," Lana folded her arms. "Which means…?"
"By my estimation we should be able to get our licenses in about…" Archer counted. "Three years…Wow, that's longer than I thought."
"And that's assuming Cyril wrote down the number of hours worked you think he did," Ray added.
"What do you mean?" Archer blinked. "What? You'd think Cyril would deliberately stiff me hours so that he…And as soon as I said those words. Literally as the words were coming out of my mouth…"
"Oh yeah," Ray rolled his eyes. "The time will just fly by."
