Milton took off with the disclaimer that I don't own any Archer characters. I don't know why. It's not any type of bread based product. Just something that ran through my tiny mind. Takes place right after Days of Our Figgis Agency.
We're Toast
"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused?" Cyril glared at the individual in front of his desk. "Getting arrested. Escaping police custody. Causing accidents as well as a huge pile of fines that I have to pay! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? ANSWER ME!"
To this Milton made some booping noises.
"Don't give me that excuse!" Cyril shouted. "Do you have any idea how much money I have to pay to cover your metal ass?"
Milton made another booping noise.
"I don't want to hear it!" Cyril snapped. "I have enough problems around here without you making more! I swear to God next time I won't bail you out and let the police melt you down to scrap metal! I don't even know why I bailed you out in the first place! Are you going to say anything? ANYTHING AT ALL?"
Of course, Milton didn't. That's when it hit Cyril.
"I am yelling at a toaster," Cyril pounded his head onto his desk. "And even it's not listening to me!"
POP!
"NO, I DON'T WANT ANY TOAST!" Cyril shouted as Milton popped out more toast.
Meanwhile Lana, Pam and Ray were sitting in the bullpen reading magazines and listening in. "I think he's really losing it this time," Ray remarked.
"That would imply Cyril ever had it in the first place," Lana scoffed. "What? That was a softball question."
"Lana aren't you at least a little worried about Cyril?" Pam asked. "You two did date each other for quite a few years."
"I could care less what that sex addicted idiot does!" Lana snapped.
"Big surprise," Ray rolled his eyes. "Ironically because you're still hung up on the other sex addicted idiot in a coma."
"Are you mad at Cyril because he got laid this weekend and you didn't?" Pam asked. "Or is it just you're ticked off at him in general?"
"I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some of Column A involved," Lana admitted. "But honestly I can't believe I ever went out with that cheating lying weasel."
"That's what we usually say about you and Archer," Ray pointed out.
"True," Pam nodded. "But aren't you worried that one day Cyril will actually snap and do something? And that something Cheryl would get a kick out of but the rest of us wouldn't."
"Cyril? Do something? Please!" Lana scoffed.
"That's what you said before the time he grabbed a rifle and started shooting up the office," Ray pointed out.
"Please," Lana waved. "No one was killed. He barely even grazed Brett!"
"It's not like it was the first time someone shot up the office," Pam admitted. "Not even the first time that week."
"I'm more worried about Mallory shooting up this office," Lana added.
"Or Cheryl," Pam added.
"Or you," Lana said to Pam.
"Or you," Pam looked at Lana.
"Or Krieger creating some kind of monster or shooting robot that runs amok," Lana added. "Or Barry coming back and shooting us."
"Or any of our former agents, drones and clients coming back and shooting us," Pam added.
"Or any of Mallory's former lovers she screwed literally and figuratively tracking us down and shooting us," Ray added.
"Or any of Mallory's neighbors that she's ticked off over the years coming in and shooting her," Pam added. "And us getting hit in the crossfire."
"Or the CIA deciding to get rid of us once and for all," Ray added.
"Or those clowns that held us hostage and want payback," Lana realized.
"Or the KGB if Katya ever decides to go after us for some reason," Ray added. "Or if she gets replaced and the new guy wants to make a name for himself."
"Don't forget all those double agents, spies and assassins that we tangled with over the years," Lana said. "The ones that are still alive."
"Or the Irish Mob, regular Mob and Yakuza," Pam added. "Oh, and don't forget about the Camorra. Remember? After the whole Pope incident?"
"Damn it!" Lana realized. "I forgot about the Camorra!"
"Me too," Ray blinked.
"I know right?" Pam snickered. "I can think of at least thirty people more likely to kill us all before Cyril. With a lot better aim. Uh oh…"
"This is not good," Ray winced.
"You think?" Lana snapped.
"Yes," Pam said honestly. Lana looked at her. "What?"
"GET BACK HERE YOU STUPID TOASTER!" Cyril was heard shouting.
Milton booped and beeped as he sped away. Spewing out flaming pieces of toast all over the place. "COME BACK HERE BEFORE YOU BURN THE PLACE DOWN!" Cyril screamed as he chased after him with a fire extinguisher. He blew out the fires before they had a chance to catch on something.
"KRIEGER! KRIEGER FIX THIS CRAZY THING BEFORE WE ALL GET KILLED!" Cyril shouted. "NO MILTON! STAY OUT OF THE BREAK ROOM! THAT'S WHERE WE KEEP THE ALCOHOL! IF YOU DROP A FLAMING PIECE OF TOAST THIS PLACE IS GOING TO BLOW!"
"Even Milton is more likely to get us all killed," Pam realized as she looked at the foam covered pieces of burnt toast on the floor.
"We're toast," Ray groaned.