The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters is off doing God knows what somewhere. Just some more Mallory and Archer fun and frolics.
A Mother-Son Revenge Spree
"Why do I have to do this?" Archer groaned as he and his mother made their way to a large black van in The Agency's garage. Archer was wearing his black turtleneck with black pants and shoes. Mallory was wearing her black catsuit. "And why are you wearing that thing?"
"In order," Mallory told her son. "Because I said so. And because I can. Besides we're going to take care of some business today. And I don't mean getting a loan from the bank."
"Just what I've always dreamed of," Archer said sarcastically. "A Mother/Son revenge spree."
"It's technically not a spree," Mallory looked at him. "We're only knocking a couple of enemies off of my list."
"How many enemies do you have left?" Archer asked. "It can't be that many!"
"Admittedly the list is a lot shorter now," Mallory shrugged. "But I still have scores to settle. Literally scores of scores."
"Four scores and seven lays ago…" Pam opened the door to the van. "Our founding mothers decided to kick ass!" She was also dressed in black.
"Why is she here?" Archer groaned.
"We need a designated driver," Mallory admitted. "And some occasional muscle."
"That's my job," Pam said proudly.
"Oh good," Archer remarked. "Just what we need. A witness that can't keep her mouth shut even if it was glued together."
"My sister Edie tried that once," Pam admitted. "Fortunately for me I learned to say some words with my mouth closed. And of course, the idiot got caught with glue on her hands. Stuck to the refrigerator door."
"Mother as much as I'd love to spend quality time driving around the city bumping off a bunch of old people who would probably be assassinated by nature anyway…" Archer remarked. "I don't think my talents as the world's greatest spy…"
"You're not that," Both Mallory and Pam said at the same time.
"Not even close," Mallory added.
"Would be wasted on this," Archer went on. "Can't you just do what everyone else does and check the obituaries to see if anybody you hate dies? Odds are most of your enemies are in that category anyway…"
"I do that too," Pam spoke up. "I read my hometown paper the Brown County Courier online every day. You would be amazed how many people from my graduating class died due to drunk driving accidents, farm accidents, and hunting accidents. And one really big barn explosion."
"Yes…" Mallory sighed. "Well…"
Pam went on. "Just this morning I saw Melissa Mudkirk got run over by a car. In her own living room. It was driven by her husband. They'd been having problems for years. One of which ironically was his drunk driving."
"I take it Melissa wasn't exactly a friend of yours?" Archer asked.
"Oh, why do you engage her?" Mallory closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"Hell no," Pam shook her head. "She was one of the most popular girls in school because she was a cheerleader. And super skinny with big tits. And put out like you wouldn't believe. The only thing Edie and I agreed on in those days was how much we both hated her."
"Okay now…" Mallory tried to change the subject.
"She used to tell everyone that she was going to make it big in New York and I was nothing but a big fat loser," Pam scoffed. "Well who's the big fat loser now Mellissa the Muff? Or should I say, big flat loser?"
"You had to ask, didn't you?" Mallory sighed.
"You never even made it to New York!" Pam went on. "The furthest you've ever gone was Chipowackee Falls on your honeymoon. And you couldn't stay the night because your loser husband lost all his money in a poker game! WITH HIS FIVE-YEAR-OLD NEPHEW! YEAH YOU REALLY WON IT BIG IN LIFE YOU BIG WHORE!"
"Pam!" Archer shouted. "PAM! PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!"
"WHAT?" Pam shouted back. She blinked. "What were we doing again?"
"We were doing one of Mother's stupid revenge plots," Archer told her. "You know? Because she can't let go of a grudge."
"This isn't just for me you know?" Mallory snapped. "A lot of my enemies wouldn't blink at the thought of killing you. Or Lana. Or AJ. Or even the other idiots just to get back at me. Although that last one I wouldn't mind so much." She looked at Pam.
"Hey don't look at me," Pam told her. "I'm always down to clown."
"I'd call you a clown if it wasn't such an insult to the clowns," Mallory remarked.
"One of the people I went to high school with became a rodeo clown," Pam told her. "Died last year. Gored by a bull."
Mallory sighed. "I am so not going to miss these little talks of ours."
Then Mallory's phone rang. She picked it up. "Hello? Oh! Gladys! How good to hear from you! What's up? Really? You don't say! Are you sure? Well I guess you can't get any surer than that. You're sending a picture now. Okay…Hang on."
She looked at her phone. "Yes, he's dead all right. Thanks Gladys. By the way, in the future you don't have to send me pictures from the morgue. If you say the guy is dead, I'll take your word for it. Oh. Well yes, he did have funny face I admit. Okay. Take care Gladys. Bye!"
"Good news," Mallory put down the phone. "That was Gladys in LA. Another person on my list just died of a heart attack."
"Gladys is one of your contacts now?" Archer was stunned.
"Sterling that woman was with me watching over you for three years," Mallory remarked. "Of course, I trust her! I gave her a list and I send her a thousand bucks a month."
"Really?" Archer was surprised.
"One of my better investments," Mallory admitted. "Three other people on my list have died in her hospital since we left LA. And two more died in a different hospital. Gladys has contacts and checks around every week."
"How's Gladys' sister doing?" Pam asked.
"Oh, very well," Mallory nodded. "Her gall bladder surgery went without a hitch."
"I should call her sometime," Pam nodded.
"So, everybody knowing this nurse is a thing now?" Archer blinked.
Mallory took out a notebook and crossed a name off. "This day is already productive. I've crossed one enemy off my list today! And we haven't left the garage yet."
"Hooray," Archer rolled his eyes. "Just how I want to spend my weekend."
"Sterling you should be more appreciative of us spending time together," Mallory told him. "While we still can."
"Please tell me you have some kind of incurable disease," Archer groaned.
"The only disease I have is Ungrateful Son-Itis!" Mallory snapped. "And the cure is a quick kick in the pants. And I don't mean the back."
"Who's the first target?" Archer decided it was pointless to continue in this conversation any longer.
"I'll tell you on the way," Mallory told him. "It's in Scarsdale."
It wasn't long before they were driving on the highway. "The target's name is Jim O'Brian," Mallory explained. "And he's an old enemy of mine."
"What was he?" Archer asked. "An assassin? A mob boss in the Irish Mafia?"
"An old boyfriend who did you dirty?" Pam suggested as she drove. "After you did the dirty deed?"
"He wishes!" Mallory snapped. "No! I never slept with that loser!"
"What did he do to get on your hit list?" Archer asked.
"He was a pencil pushing geek for the CIA who figured out I was using more funds than I claimed," Mallory admitted. "And blabbed to my bosses like the stool pigeon he was!"
"So, you have a grudge against an accountant?" Archer snickered. "You realize how lame that sounds, right?"
"Think of a meeker version of Cyril," Mallory gave her son a look. "Who whines a lot more. And is way more useless."
"Is that even possible?" Archer blinked.
"Trust me Sterling," Mallory told him. "Cyril is He Man compared to Jim O'Brian. The only reason I haven't gone after him before now is that I've had more dangerous targets on my list."
"So, we're killing an accountant for just doing his job?" Pam asked. "Not judging. Just want to be sure we're on the same page here."
"Just do your job," Mallory told her. "And drive!"
Soon they were in the suburbs. "There's his house," Mallory told them. "Sterling I need you to do recon. Pam there's more than one person in the house, I'll need you to distract the others while I slip in through a window and stab O'Brian in the neck with a needle full of strychnine."
"Uh Mother," Archer pointed. "I don't think we need a plan that complicated."
The house had several cars surrounding it. Everyone was in black. There was black bunting on the house and a black mourning wreath on the door. "This does not bode well…" Mallory blinked. "Fetch me my black shawl back there."
It wasn't long before they were inside the house. At a very large wake. Mallory with her black shawl around her neck looked at the body inside the casket. "Yeah, he's dead all right," Mallory whispered to Sterling. "Not a fake corpse. Or in a medically induced state to fake death."
"How do you know that stuff?" Archer asked.
"Again, spy and spymaster for over fifty years," Mallory looked at him. "You pick stuff up."
"Well I'm picking up these deviled eggs," Pam had an egg in one hand and a beer in the other. "Damn these are good."
"We are here anyway," Archer shrugged as he looked at the bar.
"It would be rude to not have at least one drink," Mallory admitted. "And suspicious."
An older woman with graying red hair walked up to them. "Excuse me, are you Mallory Archer?"
"Why, yes I am," Mallory said in a charming voice. "And you are…?"
"Mary Kate O'Brian," The woman said. "Jimmy's wife."
"I am so sorry that Jim passed," Mallory said in the most convincing tone.
"Yeah, she really did miss him," Pam snickered.
"Go eat another deviled egg!" Mallory snapped.
"Was going to do that anyway," Pam shrugged.
Mary Kate went on. "I remember now. Towards the end Jimmy spoke of you. He kept saying. I wish Mallory Archer would have it…I wish Mallory Archer would have it…"
"Have what?" Mallory brightened. "A nice trinket to remember him by? Some cash maybe?"
"He was talking about his disease, dear," Mary Kate explained.
"Boom!" Pam snickered.
"Shut up!" Mallory glared at Pam.
A short time later…
Mallory remarked as they left the wake. "That was a freebee."
"It's always nice when Nature assassinates your enemies for you," Pam said cheerfully as she munched on a plate of deviled eggs.
"It is," Mallory nodded. "Sterling come on!"
"Coming," Archer walked out with a six pack of alcohol. "One thing about the Irish. They really know how to throw a wake."
"We were almost thrown out of the wake the way you two were…" Mallory began.
"Mallory Archer!" An angry male voice was heard. "I can't believe you of all people would dare to show your face here!"
She looked and gave a scathing look to an older man in black. He was with three other older men dressed the same. "Do I know you?" She said in her most patronizing tone.
"Don't pull that high horse act with me, you tart!" The older man snapped. "I'm Captain John McCallister from the 35th Brigade! And me and the boys remember you on September 15, 1944!"
"Don't you mean the 21st night of September?" Archer quipped.
"What happened on September 15th?" Pam asked as she munched on the remainder of the eggs.
"That is the day one of the bravest women I knew gave her life," McCallister growled. "And this bitch didn't lift a finger to help her!"
"Great!" Mallory rolled her eyes. "More members of the Penelope Darton Fan Club!"
"You should leave now!" McCallister growled. "While you still can!"
"First of all, you whiny little bitch," Mallory growled back. "I was leaving anyway. The drinks are all right but there's barely any decent food here. Well not anymore…" She looked at Pam.
"What?" Pam had finished off the deviled eggs.
"And secondly," Mallory turned back to McCallister. "Penelope Pureheart's death wasn't my fault and you know it! It was war! People die!"
"Especially around you," McCallister snarled as he grabbed her arm. "You get out of here you whore before…"
Mallory didn't hesitate as she grabbed McCallister and threw him to the ground. She then kicked one of the other older men hard in the chest and punched out another one. "Anybody else want a piece of me?" She roared to the bystanders.
She grabbed McCallister and dragged him up so he could look at her face. "You and your little buddies were always pussies," She snarled. "You could barely fight then and you can't fight now! So, don't go picking fights you can't win!" She punched him out cold.
"Now this is an Irish wake!" Pam whooped.
"Sterling," Mallory sniffed. "Pam. We're going!" She walked with her head held high and the three men lying on the ground in pain.
"Nice meeting you," Archer said cheerfully as they left.
"I can't believe people are still blaming me for that," Mallory grumbled as they got in the van. "That was a lifetime ago!"
"Who was Penelope Darton?" Archer asked as Pam started to drive away.
"Oh her," Mallory sighed dismissively. "She was a fellow spy and rival back in the war. We were both recruited at the same time. Both of us wanted to be actresses. We ended up starring in much larger roles in the war. We started out as friends but…"
"But…?" Archer asked. "What did you do?"
"The jobs Penelope Pureheart wouldn't," Mallory explained. "Let's just say the only way she'd do a honeypot mission is that if actual bees were involved."
"Oh," Archer realized. "One of those huh?"
"Exactly," Mallory sniffed. "She thought the work I did wasn't feminine or beneath her. And she had all the idiots wrapped around her little finger with her goody two shoes act. But eventually she died on a mission and I didn't. I other words, I won."
"Did you kill her?" Pam asked. Archer looked at her. "It's a legitimate question!"
"No," Mallory waved. "There was this Nazi bomber full of nerve gas headed straight for England which she commandeered and crashed it into the ocean. They never did recover her body. Oh well. It was still a lovely memorial service. I screwed one of her favorite boyfriends in the back of the church so…"
"Oh God…" Archer groaned.
Mallory mused. "The irony is that when we first started out Penelope talked about opening her own agency. An all-female agency. I called her crazy for wanting to run her own agency. I thought it would be more fun to go it solo. Huh. Life's funny that way."
"Hilarious," Archer groaned. "Who's next?"
Mallory pulled out the next photo in a dossier. "Ramone "Baraccuda' Bravano. We did some work together in the 60's. He got jealous of me when I was having more successful missions than he was. And the fact that I slept with his brother didn't help. Or the fact I also assassinated him."
"Why did you knock off the brother?" Pam asked. "Was he bad in bed?"
"He was bad at stealing money that wasn't his," Mallory explained. "Particularly my employers at the time. I tried to explain to Ramone that it wasn't personal. If anything, Ramone was better in bed than his brother…"
"Stop," Archer winced. "Where's the target? And a bucket for me to vomit in?"
"He's not that far from here actually," Mallory told her son. "That's one of the reasons I chose to take care of Jimmy boy today."
"But lung cancer did it for you," Pam told her.
"Still counts as a name crossed off," Mallory shrugged. "And now I get to cross off the Barracuda. Be prepared for a fight."
A short time later at the Whispering Meadows Rest Home…
"Or at the very least," Mallory sighed as she looked at the withered man lying in a coma in a hospital room. "The smell of urine and Lysol."
"What is this?" Archer asked. "A running gag?"
"Seriously," Pam remarked. "How long are people going to use this coma bit?"
"According to the nurse I just bribed," Mallory explained. "Ramone only has one son who isn't exactly crazy about him. The only reason he hasn't pulled the plug yet was an injunction by Ramone's younger sister who's a nun. Oh well…"
Mallory pulled the plug and held Ramone's nose. "This is my good deed for the week."
"It's really easy to kill a guy in a coma, isn't it?" Archer remarked.
"Why do you think I stayed by your bedside for three years?" Mallory gave him a look. "Take notes, Sterling. You might want to remember this trick for taking care of all your enemies. If you survive that long."
"I'm taking notes," Pam took out a notebook and started to write things down.
"Suck up," Archer grumbled.
It wasn't long before they were in the van again. "Okay," Mallory crossed a name off of her list. "Let's keep this mini rampage going!"
"Some rampage," Archer rolled his eyes. "Two guys who were already dead and a mercy killing."
"Yeah Ms. Archer," Pam told her. "So far this revenge spree is kind of a bust. I mean the food at the wake was good…"
"Oh, I'm so sorry that settling my affairs is boring for you," Mallory said sarcastically. "Let me try and jazz it up! And this is not a spree!"
"You're telling me," Archer remarked.
"Just go down this street," Mallory told Pam. "And did you put the supplies back here like I asked?"
"Krieger loaded them up in that crate," Pam told her.
"Loaded what up?" Archer asked.
"Just some supplies," Mallory waved.
"For what?" Archer asked.
Later into the evening. At Mad Max's Car Lot…
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOOM!
FOOOOOOOOOOM!
Several cars burst into flames. Soon the entire lot was on fire.
Mallory, Archer and Pam were watching on a hillside nearby. "Is that violent enough for you two?" Mallory snapped at her cohorts.
"Yuuup," Archer nodded, eyes wide.
"Works for me," Pam munched on a bucket of chicken.
"Where did you get…?" Mallory did a double take. "Never mind. I don't want to know."
"Why did you burn that car dealership?" Archer was stunned. "What did Mad Max ever do to you?"
"Oh, it wasn't for me, actually," Mallory admitted. "This guy happened to be a rival of Ron's. I thought I'd commit a little arson in his memory."
"Aww," Pam remarked. "That's actually sweet."
"You have been hanging around Cheryl way too much," Archer winced. "Both of you!"
FOOOM!
"Come on," Mallory turned and walked away from the arson. "We have at least one more stop to make."
"Where to this time?" Archer sighed.
"Just drive back to the city," Mallory told them as they got in the van. "When we get there, I'll tell you where to go."
"You know two of my classmates died in a car lot fire five years ago?" Pam asked. "Bob and Rob Moonmore were brothers who went into business together. The dumb asses thought it would be a great idea to set off fireworks in the middle of their car lot. While drunk."
"Jesus Pam," Archer looked at her. "Is there anyone in your graduating class still alive?"
"Oh yes," Pam nodded. "We had an unusually large graduating class. Thanks to a cheating scandal everyone in my class graduated."
"Your entire class cheated in order to graduate?" Archer asked.
"No," Pam shook her head. "The cheating was between our school superintendent and one of the state test proctors. They got caught in the janitor's closet by the janitor. And a few parents of kids that weren't doing so well."
"I see," Mallory sighed.
"The parents and the janitor sued the school board," Pam went on. "Well the janitor went along with it because he was pissed. He really liked a clean closet. Boy did he end up one rich janitor."
Mallory let out a breath. "And as part of the settlement everyone in your class got to graduate?"
"Oh yes," Pam nodded. "Well everyone that wasn't already expelled. Or arrested. Or in a coma."
"So not going to miss these talks," Mallory sighed. She saw something. "Hang on…"
A red car drove by. "I know the person in that tacky car!" Mallory pointed. "That's Eugenia Franssen! That bitch in on the co-op board in my apartment building. And she turned down my request to put in a hot tub! I hate her!"
"What's she doing out here?" Archer asked.
"Oh, she has friends in this part of the state," Mallory grumbled. "Ironically she's probably using their hot tub."
"I'm guessing you want to get back at her," Pam remarked.
"Give the woman a Kewpie doll and a chocolate cream pie," Mallory rolled her eyes.
"I can do that," Pam indicated. "Take the wheel."
"Why?" Mallory blinked.
"Because I'm going to play Bombardier!" Pam grinned.
"Oh God Pam no!" Archer paled. "Not that!"
"What?" Mallory asked. "What's Bombardier?"
"You don't want to know," Archer groaned. "Pam the last time you did that the guy you did it to nearly drove into a McDonald's!"
"Aw relax Archer," Pam said as she and Mallory skillfully traded places. "It's just a little fun!"
"What's just a little fun?" Mallory asked as she took the wheel. "Pam what the hell are you doing?"
"Just drive right next to her car," Pam told her as she fiddled with her pants. "She's gonna get a shock!"
"What kind of shock?" Mallory asked.
"You don't want to know," Archer groaned. "For the love of God Mother, whatever you do…Don't look!"
"Why would I…?" Mallory noticed that Pam was fiddling with her pants and kneeling on the seat so that her butt faced the window. "Oh dear God…"
Pam grinned as she made a noise like a pilot on the PA system. "This is The Blue Moon Bomber calling Danger Zone. Come in Danger Zone."
"Damn it," Archer sighed. Before adopting a similar pilot voice. "This is Danger Zone. Danger Zone calling Blue Moon Bomber. Go ahead."
"Request permission to fire on an uptight bitch in a red Camaro," Pam called back.
"Permission granted Blue Moon Bomber," Archer said. Under his voice he added. "As if I could stop you."
"Lowering left gear bomb hatch now," Pam managed to roll down the electric windows by pushing a button. "Bombs away!" She pulled her pants down and shoved her butt out of the window.
SCREEEEEEECHHHH!
"Direct hit!" Pam whooped.
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!
FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
"Oops," Pam gulped as the car skidded off the road and hit a tree. The car exploded into flames.
"I warned you!" Archer snapped.
FOOOOOOOOOOM!
"On the upside Mother," Archer remarked. "I don't think you'll have any trouble getting that hot tub put in now."
"Okay," Mallory admitted. "Now it's a spree."
"JUST DRIVE!" Pam shouted as she pulled her pants up.
"You're not my supervisor!" Mallory snapped. "Oh dear God, I have been hanging out with Cheryl too long!"
"Now can we go home?" Archer begged.
"Just one more stop," Mallory told her son.
"Where to next?" Archer asked. "Hopefully somewhere with a bar."
"Unfortunately, no…" Mallory sighed. "But if we're quick we won't have to stay there very long."
Soon they pulled around the back to an older building. "All right, listen up," Mallory took out a file. "We need to anonymously drop off this file into the mailbox of Anton Sharkovsky. He's one of the most vicious society gossip columnists on the East coast. In this file are pictures of certain husbands of some of my…acquaintances…"
"Enemies," Archer corrected.
"In flagrante delicto," Mallory went on. "And a few other tidbits that Sharkovsky would drool over."
"You're just dropping off some evidence for some gossip columnist to blab about your society enemies?" Archer let out a sigh of relief. "That's not so bad."
Mallory pulled out a small bomb from the back. "Pam while you drop off the evidence in Sharkovsky's mailbox, Sterling and I will attach a bomb to a different reporter's car."
"That's bad," Archer groaned. "Why…?"
"He's planning to write a tell all book on spies!" Mallory told him. "And he has evidence about some of my exploits. And some of ours."
"So, he blabs about a few missions that happened a few years ago?" Archer waved. "Nobody cares about that!"
"Including the infamous Fourth of Ju-Luau," Mallory gave him a look.
"People might care about that one," Pam gulped.
"Which car is his?" Archer asked.
"I'll show you," Mallory said. "Pam…"
"I'm on it," She took the file and left.
A short time later…
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Mallory and the others watched from a safe distance in the van as a car was on fire in a parking lot. "Now can we go home?" Archer asked annoyed.
"Sterling have I taught you nothing?" Mallory groaned. "First we have to go to a bar and establish an alibi!"
"Got it," Pam nodded. "My buddy Rocco at Pita Margaritas owes me one. I got him out of a jam with some Yakuza drag racers."
"They do have good Margaritas," Archer admitted.
"Sounds like a plan to me," Mallory grinned. "Let's roll!"
The following day in Mallory's office…
"Mother if this meeting for the two of us is to tell us not to tell anybody…" Archer scoffed as he and Pam sat in chairs facing Mallory. "I think that ship already sailed."
"Cheryl's not going to say anything!" Pam snapped. "One she was totally high on glue and gummy bears and doesn't remember anything. And even if she did…"
"Who'd believe her?" Mallory nodded. "I know. But that's not why I called you in."
"Then what?" Archer groaned as he took a drink.
"First of all," Mallory sighed. "Some news. Apparently, we didn't kill the reporter last night."
"Well then who's car did we blow up?" Archer asked.
"Anton Sharkovsky's," Mallory admitted. "With him in it."
"Oh," Pam winced.
"Well it's not as bad as that," Mallory waved. "I was planning on getting rid of him eventually. Let's just say with the evidence Pam dropped off there will be plenty of suspects in his death. He was an odious man. More than half of New York will be celebrating his death."
"At least we didn't kill an innocent guy," Archer shrugged.
"More good news," Mallory told them. "When the cops examined Eugena's corpse they found she had enough alcohol in her bloodstream to serve in a bar. They're putting it down to drunk driving."
"That was a freebee," Pam nodded.
"She never could handle her booze," Mallory shrugged. "Even better the Co-Op Board always puts out a lovely repast at a decent restaurant."
"That means you'll have something to do this weekend," Pam added. "And maybe find someone to do this weekend?"
"The latter is highly unlikely," Mallory admitted. "The people in my building have all the sex appeal of a wet bag of cement. And the personality of one."
"Still one more person off your list," Pam pointed out.
"Who wasn't even a spy," Archer rolled his eyes. "Just someone from high society you hate!"
Mallory paused. "I see what you're saying."
"You do?" Archer did a double take.
"Yes," Mallory admitted. "I'm going to have to take care of a few of my so-called society friends too!"
"I'm up for that," Pam said. "Except for tomorrow night. I have to attend a zoom funeral for my classmate Shelia Beckbone. Got run over by a tractor. That she was supposed to be driving. She also couldn't hold her booze."
"Did you hate her?" Mallory asked.
"Oh yeah," Pam nodded. "She was a total bitch. I'm gonna have me some drinks. And some snacks…"
"What time does it start?" Mallory asked.
"I have got to find new people to hang out with," Archer groaned as he took a drink.