The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters is out taking pictures. Takes place before the season seven premiere. Just a crazy thought that ran through my tiny mind.
Picture Perfect
"How many of these damn photos do I have to take?" Ray asked as he held the camera.
"As many as it takes," Cyril said. He was standing in front of the Figgis Agency sign in the lobby. "These photos are going to be for the agency's website."
"As well as sending them in e-mails to your father," Ray added.
"Let's see that rotten old bastard call me a loser now," Cyril sneered in contempt. "If having my own building with my name on it doesn't impress him nothing will! Not that any of my accomplishments in life have ever impressed him before."
"What accomplishments?" Ray quipped.
"You know…?" Cyril glared at Ray.
"Believe it or not Cyril I get the whole 'I want to prove myself to Daddy' thing," Ray interrupted. "I've spent half of my life trying to please my father and it failed miserably. Mine was a miserable rotten old bastard too! I mean for Christ's sake the man forced me to kill a bear with a bow and arrow and eat its heart when I was ten!"
"Oh right," Cyril realized.
"Looking back on it now I did a lot of things I shouldn't have just to impress someone who to be honest wasn't going to ever accept me for who I was," Ray sighed sadly. "I know I still have issues with that but…I've managed to learn to be who I am and not conform to his standards anymore."
"How did you do that?"
"Well the fact that my father died a terrible horrible death helps," Ray said cheerfully. "I mean I'm sad he's gone but at same time I'm pretty relieved if you get my drift. It made coming out of the closet a lot easier let me tell you."
"Well unfortunately mine is still alive," Cyril groaned. "Well maybe unfortunate isn't the exact choice of words but you get the picture. That's why I need you to take the pictures."
"We've already got dozens of you standing on the outside of the building," Ray told him. "Twenty of you in your office. Fifteen of you displaying your PI license. And at least a dozen ones of you in different poses in different rooms of the agency! How many more do you need?"
"As many as it takes!" Cyril told Ray. "I'm not only sending him an e-mail I will also send him an actual letter with prints! I am not taking any chances he won't see them!"
"What are you going to do?" Ray sighed. "Send them by certified mail and make him sign for them?"
"That's a good idea!" Cyril grinned. "Thanks Ray!"
"Oh why do I let people talk me into things I know are going to be a mistake?" Ray groaned. "I really do have a problem with peer pressure."
"Look I already promised you two extra hours towards a PI license," Cyril told him. "Two hours that Archer won't have."
"Okay Cyril B. DeMille," Ray sighed. "What do you want to shoot next?"
"Ideally Archer dead on a pile of manure but since that's not going to happen," Cyril grumbled. "How about the view from my office?"
"Why not?" Ray sighed as he followed Cyril. "Just curious, what exactly does your father know about your life?"
"Well not everything obviously," Cyril explained. "I told him I worked as the head of my department in an office when we were a spy agency. Only I didn't say I worked at a spy agency."
"Obviously," Ray nodded.
"And I may have mentioned that I travelled overseas for business once or twice which is also true," Cyril added. "That I spent some time in South America and recently took a trip to New Mexico and then Vegas before starting my new business."
"Omitting the drug dealing, the coup and the whole CIA fiasco," Ray remarked.
"Duh!" Cyril rolled his eyes. "I didn't say anything about the astronaut thing either. I mean come on, I was there and I don't believe what happened."
"Testify," Ray groaned. "So I take it you and your father aren't close?"
"Not really no," Cyril admitted with a sigh. "I e-mail him once or twice a year to let him know I'm okay but does he ever reply back? Nooo! Not an e-mail or a written letter or even a freaking phone call!"
"Here comes the Daddy Issues Express," Ray grumbled to himself. "Right on time…"
"Like he's sooooo freaking important he doesn't have time to talk to me, his only son!" Cyril fumed. "I'm the school superintendent for an entire county! I can't waste time with my child because I have other children to look after!"
"Here we go…" Ray sighed.
"You only managed 830 kids at most!" Cyril went on as they got to his office. "Not even a thousand! And most of the work you just pass onto your subordinates! While you just sit around in your office drinking scotch and making yourself seem more important than you really are!"
"I really need to find new friends," Ray groaned. "Because mine are all psychotic!"
"I took over a god damn country of over two million people with nothing more than a tank and ran a war!" Cyril shouted. "Okay it only lasted a few weeks but still…"
"Maybe I should read a book on how to make friends?" Ray asked himself. "Take a class or something…?"
"You've always pressured me and pressured me and called me a failure!" Cyril had a weird look in his eye. "Did it ever occur to you there was a reason why I was so timid around you? YOU ARROGANT BLOWHARD!"
"Maybe I can take a class to get my PI license faster?" Ray muttered to himself. "A lecture can't be any worse than hearing this all day!"
"You think I'm a failure? You're a damn failure!" Cyril railed at his imagined father. "I got a law degree as well as a Master's degree and an accounting CPA certification! And a private eye license! All you ever achieved was a Master's in Education! Which technically you should have at least a doctorate now to be a superintendent! But you just squeaked by because they passed that law after you became superintendent!"
"I've been all over the world, even to outer freaking space and inside an actual human body!" Cyril shouted. "The furthest you've ever gone was to New Jersey for a convention!"
"Do I sound like this when I talk about my Daddy?" Ray muttered to himself.
"Oh and let's not forget you haven't exactly set the dating world on fire!" Cyril went on. "Everyone knows about the infatuation you had with Mrs. Grabble your widowed secretary. But you never even had the guts to ask her out for coffee let alone hit that!"
"Okay that definitely does not sound like me when I talk about my father," Ray admitted.
"Maybe my love life isn't perfect but it's still better than yours old man!" Cyril shouted. "I've had more hot sex than you've had hot dinners! SO SUCK ON THAT OLD MAN!"
Cyril now had a crazy look in his eye. "One of these days I'm going to tell this to your face you bastard! And then…Then I'm gonna take my hands and strangle you until you admit that I'm better than you! SAY IT! SAY I'M BETTER THAN YOU!"
"Okay…" Ray winced as Cyril grabbed a pillow off of a chair and started to throttle it. "Now I'm starting to get worried."
"YOU RUINED MY LIFE YOU HORRIBLE ASSHOLE!" Cyril screamed as he started to tear the pillow apart. "WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN YOU THAT DIED INSTEAD OF MY MOTHER? WHY? WHY? WHY?"
"Why didn't I run away from these people when I had a chance to years ago?" Ray groaned.
"HA HA HA HA HA!" Cyril laughed as feathers flew all around.
"Whoever's in there can I talk to Cyril now?" Ray asked concerned.
"Oh…" Cyril became himself again as feathers landed on his head and suit. "Uh sorry…I went away for a bit. Did I say anything?"
"Nothing that can be proven in a court of law," Ray admitted.
"Sorry, I tend to get a little carried away when talking about my father," Cyril apologized.
"Really?" Ray said in a deadpanned tone. "I didn't notice."
"For once I just wish my father wouldn't look at me as a complete and total failure," Cyril sighed.
"Maybe you are looking at this the wrong way?" Ray sighed. "Cyril what is the one thing your father always wanted to do but never did?"
"Stephanie Powers," Cyril admitted.
"Besides her," Ray gave him a look.
"Oh right," Cyril realized. "Wait…There is this one thing…"
A few minutes later…
"Let me get this straight…" Ray said as he took pictures. "Your father loves elevators too and always wanted one?"
"I know, one of the few things besides DNA we actually have in common," Cyril said as he pointed to the elevator with a flourish.
"I guess being boring and weird is genetic," Ray grumbled under his breath as he took pictures.
"What was that?" Cyril narrowed his eyes.
"Good thing the elevator is photogenic," Ray covered.
"Oh right…" Cyril blinked. "Anyway the closest my father ever got to his own elevator was the one in his building. But it wasn't really his. It's the government's."
"And having your own elevator will really cook his goose," Ray added.
"Hey I know it's not much and it only goes to Krieger's lab," Cyril shrugged. "But it's still mine and it counts!"
"I guess it does," Ray said as he finished taking pictures. "Anything else?"
"Actually I was thinking…" Cyril thought. "My father would love pictures of elevators from places in LA! And I would love to rub his face in the fact that I was there and he wasn't! So let's make an afternoon of it!"
"Let me see if I get this straight," Ray groaned. "You want me to drive you around and photograph you inside elevators of famous buildings and hotels?"
"I'll add three extra hours to the two I'm giving you and I'll buy you lunch," Cyril gave him a look.
"Let's roll," Ray told him as they left.
"Let me guess," Cyril sighed as they left. "This isn't the first time you've done something weird for a free lunch is it?"
"Cyril, taking pictures of you in elevators isn't even the weirdest thing I've done for a free lunch this week," Ray quipped.
"That I believe," Cyril groaned. "I really need to find some new friends."