06x02 - Last Night Gus

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Psych". Aired: July 7, 2006 – March 26, 2014.*

Moderator: fpfvst

Watch/Buy Amazon  Merchandise


Follows Shawn who works for the police department which allows him to convince people that he solves cases with psychic abilities.
Post Reply

06x02 - Last Night Gus

Post by bunniefuu »

So explain to me again
what we're doing here

as opposed to doing anything
else in the world.

We're paying respects to a man

who dedicated his life to working
with the police department, Shawn.

Oh, please. You don't know Jim.

- Hey guys. When's the pinata coming out?
- Hey.

I don't think there is one.

- A pinata...
- Oh.

Well, I was told this was a party.

Okay, as fun as this is,
I think I'm gonna skip.

No, you're leaving?

- What about Jim?
- I don't even know Jim.

Plus, I have to work
on the D.A.'s case.

Lassiter and I have to testify
in court tomorrow.

- Lassiter's still here.
- Lassiter is sleeping.

You want me to come with you?
Please say yes.

Uh, hold up there.

Looks like
I might be needing a wingman.

Oh, my God.

You don't care
about Jim Dubois.

You disgust me.
You make me sick to my face.

I have a girlfriend.
She's standing right here.

- It's true. I am.
- Oh, they're both for me.

You don't have enough game
for half of one of those women.

Please.
I got game.

- Have fun.
- Yeah.

All right, that's it.

- What are you doing?
- Getting this party started.

Excuse me,
ladies and gentlemen!

Can I have your attention
for a moment, please?

Damn it, Jim.

You had a long career, my man,

perhaps the longest of all time.

You touched us all right here,

a little bit up here...

Just a teeny-weeny bit--

Shawn.

And you put away a bunch
of bad guys at the same time...

He worked a desk job.
He never fired his w*apon.

With your bare hands
in your off hours.

And now, Jim, you can ride off
into the sunset,

spend some quality time
with your mom here.

That is his wife.

To Jim!
Damn it.

To Jim.

Hey, bartender,
how about a round of sh*ts...

On the department?

Gus?

Gus!

What? What?

I'm ready.
Let's go. What?

What?

Man, I think we slept here.

What happened last night?

Strangely, I have no idea.

Wait.

Nothing--
weird, disjointed.

My finger-to-eyebrow device
is broken.

That's never happened
to me before.

- My memory is completely blank.
- Shawn...

Why is there a shower cap
on your head?

I'm sure there's a very easy
explanation for this.

Is there an easy explanation

as to why you're sandals
that aren't yours?

Where are my Nikes?

And why are you wearing
a gold chain, Shawn?

Huh.

Oh, dear lord,
please tell me this is a dream.

Calm down, peaches.

Come back to bed.

Whatever you think happened
last night didn't happen,

because nothing happened.
You got it?

That's nice, Lassie.
Way to belittle the man.

Yeah, detective,
I-I do have feelings.

What is all over your face?

Eh, I can't be sure.

Oh, God.

Y-y-you didn't see
a small Colombian

with a hook for an arm,
did you?

- No.
- No?

Why do you have a black eye?

Okay, there's nothing
to freak out about.

Everybody relax.

It's not a big deal.
It's just a small shiner.

Lassie's absolutely right.

His lovers' spat with Woody
is really none of our business.

- I should call my wife.
- No.

- Oh, we don't keep secrets.
- Nobody's calling anybody!

Uh-oh.

My baby!

Son--

it's missing three b*ll*ts.

I can tell by the weight.
It's three light.

It's been fired.

Uh, shouldn't someone
start freaking out right now?

Wait a minute.
What's this?

Looks like I made
some sort of video last night.

You know who this guy is
right here?

- You know who he is.
- This guy right here.

I have no idea.
Shawn?

I told you, I'm broken.

I got nothing.
Stugots.

How is it all of us
cannot remember a single thing

from last night?

Strobe.
Right.

Just got told to come back
to the office.

It's urgent.

I just got the same call.

Where's my keys?

I don't see my car out there.

My Ford Fusion is missing.

Now can we all start
freaking out?

- Aah!
- Everyone relax!

We'll take the Blueberry.

And we will ride calmly,
eloquently,

and professionally,
like gentlemen.

Hmm.

Nice parking job, Guster.

How do you even know
he was driving?

Okay, if no one else
is gonna freak out,

then I will.

Oh, my gosh!

Oh, my gosh!
Do you see my car?

Do you see my car?

My car!

It's just a minor ding, buddy.

You can only see it

because the sun's hitting it
at that angle.

Isn't that right, Woody?

I don't feel right inside.

Oh, my gosh!
Oh, God!

I can't believe this!
Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh!

Do you see my car?
Do you see my car?

Okay, we have
a male John Doe, Caucasian,

40s--

Detective Lassiter,
why are you wearing sunglasses

at an autopsy?

- I, um...
- Chief, if I may...

Lassie spoke to us all
about a week ago

about wearing sunglasses
to all autopsies

moving forward to show respect
for the dead.

I simply forgot,
and Gus refused,

because he has no value
for human life.

Body was dredged

from the water near Arroyo Beach
late this morning--

sh*t three times.

It's missing three b*ll*ts.
I can tell by the weight.

Uh, how many times?

Three. Why?

Hmm.

♪ I know you know
that I'm not telling the truth ♪

♪ I know you know
they just don't have any proof ♪

♪ embrace the deception ♪

♪ learn how to bend ♪

♪ your worst inhibitions ♪

♪ tend to psych you
out in the end ♪

♪ I know you know ♪

So, anytime a John Doe
rolls in,

it becomes a top priority.

Someone out there
m*rder*d this person,

and without an identity,

we have no clues to go on.

But it's our responsibility
to get to the bottom of this

and bring the perp in
and bring them to justice.

Now, I want to start with
any open missing-persons cases

that the vic's identity
might match.

Now, on site,

floating near
the vicinity of the body,

C.S.I. was able to pull out
only these few items.

We have a watch,
an empty wallet,

and a pair of shoes,

which are not even
the victim's correct size.

Now, I'd like
all hands on deck for this,

but because you and O'Hara
are due to testify

in court in four hours--

Oh, you know,
that's okay, chief.

O'Hara can go.
I don't need to be there.

She was actually the one
who was going to testify.

I was just going to lend
my presence for the jury.

- Seriously?
- Dead serious.

Yes. No.

I mean, yes,
there is a dead man here,

and it is tragic, awful,
but I can handle it.

Plus, I've got Shawn and Gus
to help.

I'm sorry. You're requesting
to work with Shawn and Gus?

What is going on? And please
take those sunglasses off.

You put some sunglasses on!

Why would I put sunglasses on?

Okay, look, um,
he's actually right, O'Hara.

Let's let these guys
run with this,

and then you can just join up
after you testify.

Uh, Woody?
Let's get to work.

- Shawn?
- Hmm?

A word.

What the hell was going on
in there?

I was about to ask you
the same thing--you seem grumps.

- I'm not grumps.
- Who's grumps?

Shawn, I didn't get
any sleep last night.

Aren't you gonna say anything

about the phone call
you made to me?

- It's--it's kind of a huge deal.
- Phone call?

Yes, of course, obviously,
it is huge, isn't it?

Does Gus know about this?

Why--why wouldn't he?

Something of this magnitude--
it's huge.

And we need to talk about it,

but wouldn't you agree I should
get back in there right now?

Okay. All right, yes.
Yes, but, Shawn...

- Let's talk.
- Yes, let's, and soon.

This is big. This is
a game changer for everyone.

Game changer.

Talk soon.

What the hell happened
last night?

- Are those doors shut?
- Yeah.

Okay...

I think
I'm gonna turn myself in.

What, for spooning with Woody?

We did nothing wrong.

Look, guys, we have some

of the finest
crime-solving minds in the world

right here in this room.

And I think you bought us
a few hours

to figure out what happened here

before we go sounding off
any alarms.

Lassie, I need you
to look inwards.

Take a swim in lake you.

See what you see.
We can do this.

Spencer, I can't survive
without the facts.

Don't know
what happened last night.

I never lost control
of my faculties in my life.

Me neither.

Unless I'm being tickled--
then all bets are off.

What about me, fellas?

I'm not having
any psychic visions,

flashbacks,
or re-creation flashbacks,

or re-creation flashbacks
with new psychic visions.

I mean, imagine
you weren't just

a bland, gangly,
average human, huh?

That you could wink at someone
and--and light up their world,

that you could make
a child think

that you have given them
an ice cream cone

without giving them the cone

and then watch them skip off
into a beautiful meadow,

licking nothing but air!

Imagine that!

Imagine that you have
a special gift,

a sixth sense, and then someone
or something comes along

and rips it away from you!

Imagine that, Jack!

Do you see me giving up?

Okay, Shawn.

Okay.

Damn it, I cannot believe
I am saying this,

but, men, we are
in this together.

- Obviously we knew the victim.
- Well, we all knew the victim,

but you are the one
who sh*t him.

You had the dead guy's phone.

Shawn was wearing
the man's sandals.

Huh. I was hoping
you guys didn't notice that.

Look, I don't care
if we did k*ll this guy.

I'm just happy
to be a part of it.

Do not touch me again.
Guster, give me your phone.

- It's evidence.
- I need my phone.

I'm the only one here
with a day job.

I need it for work.

I am in charge
and calling the sh*ts.

It is evidence.
Put it in.

Fine.

All right, fine.
You can hang on to the phone.

But it never comes out
of the bag--do you understand?

Got it.

There's only one thing
we should do at this point.

We all have to pee into a cup.

Amen.

That is an excellent idea.
I couldn't agree more.

There's obviously
only one reason

that none of us remember
what happened last night.

- We were drugged.
- That is also a possibility.

Hey, I'll run some tests,
see what turns up.

Yes, I will hold.
Just tell him to hurry up.

Do you remember me
calling Jules last night?

- You called Juliet last night?
- Apparently.

You don't think I told her about
Lassie sh**ting his g*n, do you?

I certainly hope not.

- Well, take a look at it.
- I need you to get down there

and pretend
like you're tying your shoe.

I'm not doing that.
You do it.

- I don't have any laces.
- So?

So what am supposed
to tie--your face?

Fine.

McNab, finally.
Put your listening ears on.

I need you to put out
an official A.P.B.

on a black Ford Fusion.

Yes, I'm aware that I drive
a black Ford Fusion.

McNab, would you just do
what I ask you, please?

No, I am not.

I-I don't remember the license
plate off the top of my head.

Thank you.

Why is it always
so difficult with you?

No.

I don't really want to go
to lunch today.

Rain check.

I'm sensing that our
victim was some kind of stalker.

- Stalker?
- Yeah, I get a vision, uh...

Of a blond woman--attractive
in a soccer mom sort of way,

kind of Teri Garr-esque.

Okay...

First off, I didn't realize

peyote stayed in your system
that many years.

I have only myself

and my then-girlfriend,
lollipop, to blame.

Secondly, Guster,
your cholesterol is really high.

Man, I told you eating
something called

"stick o' butter in a bun"
was a bad idea.

I can't help it, Shawn.
My body craves buttery goodness.

- You are buttery.
- You know that's right.

Act natural.

All right, now,
here's the skinny.

We all had copious amounts

of salvia divinorum
in our system.

That's a psychoactive herb

that can cause hallucinations
and "disassociative" effects.

We were all drugged
at that bar.

- I knew it.
- However...

our victim had no trace of
the drug at all--he was clean.

Why would someone spike
our drink but not his?

Well, clearly someone

was trying to take advantage
of us sexually,

or at least me.

Not last night, Lassie.

Or in this last decade.

I am sensing that we were
the recipients of dr*gs

that were intended
for a pair of women.

All right, let's hit that bar.

Yeah, let's shake them down.

What?
No shakedown?

Carlton Lassiter, S.B.P.D.

I got some hard questions.
I need some straight answers.

Has anyone turned in
some Ford Fusion keys

or actually
the Ford Fusion itself?

- No.
- Damn it.

Hey, man,
you recognize that guy?

Uh, yeah.
Yeah, he was here last night.

Um, but why are you guys
asking me?

I mean, you were best friends
with the dude--

buying him drinks all night.

Uh, I wasn't buying

some sandal-wearing white guy
a bunch of drinks, okay?

That's not me.

This guy was sucking back
soda water and limes.

Aha. That's why he
didn't have dr*gs in his system.

You know, I'm really starting
to like this cop stuff.

When are we gonna
plant some evidence on this guy?

- Stop breathing on my neck.
- That's just how I breathe.

Would you--would you give me
some personal space?

I will give you
whatever you need.

I'm getting something.
I'm seeing a guy--

like, a--he's like
a Swedish version of Jon Cryer--

long blond hair,

earring, completely different
bone structure, though,

and very short--small man.

Yeah, I know who that is.

- You do?
- Yeah, he does.

Yeah, that's Mikey.
He's my partner.

- Mikey!
- Mikey?

Yeah. You, baby Thor.

It was you.
You were the one

that was trying to pick up
on those girls last night.

You tried to spike
their drinks,

and you
accidentally drugged ours.

Yeah, I don't--
I don't think, uh, Mikey here

was trolling for women.

Oh.

Hmm. Yeah.
So much for that vision.

It's all right, Spencer.
I got this.

- No, Lassie--
- Would you let me do my job?

So, partners, huh?

You guys own this place
together?

Um, no.

- No, Lassie--
- Shh!

What, you got a little
side business going, huh?

- Lassie--
- What? What?

They're a couple, man.
They're together.

He's not our suspect, because
they're lovers in the nighttime.

He can't quit him.

Oh. Oh.

Just so you know,
me and this guy--

- We spooned last night.
- Okay.

Yeah.

I'm gonna look for my keys.

- I'll help.
- Oh, good lord.

Excuse me.

I think I left my credit card
here last night.

- Oh, my God.
- Oh, my gosh.

Mm.

Mm.

Mm.

I told you
you wouldn't stay away from me.

- You and I?
- Yeah, but then you took off.

Don't do that again.

Now, what are you doing
for the rest of the day?

Give me one second.

- Two baby ones maybe.
- Okay.

- Hurry back.
- I will.

"Last night Gus"
had some serious game.

I'll be damned.
I think I owe you an apology.

I'm gonna bounce, Shawn.

I'm gonna bounce,
bounce, bounce...

Bounce, bounce,
bounce, bounce.

No! No, we're in the middle
of an investigation.

I don't care.
I don't care. I don't care.

- Come on, bounce, bounce, bounce.
- A man d*ed!

Fine.

I really, really, really want
to take off right now,

but my friends and I are
in an investigation of sorts.

An investigation?
Hmm.

- Sounds sexy.
- It is.

Well, why don't you give me
your phone?

- And I'll put my digits in it.
- All seven of them?

Guster, what did I say?

Oh.

I'm sorry. I can't let anyone
touch this right now.

It's evidence in our case.
It's kind of a big deal--

- You know, sexy.
- Uh-huh.

Let me put it in.

Through the plastic?

Sure. Yeah.

All right.
It's 805...

I got it!
Everybody, I got it.

It's--it's good.
This is--

- What are you doing?
- Looking for my keys.

Those things
are expensive to replace.

Double good news--

I know where we went
when we left the bar last night.

And, uh, Woody, you don't have
a cocaine problem.

Shawn, right now I'm missing
an opportunity

to capitalize
on "last night Gus'" game,

which I told you I had.

Well, "today Gus"
is a whiny baby.

We're here for a case,

and it's not solving the mystery
of your darkened loins.

This is it--

- A freakin' doughnut shop?
- Stay with me, Lassie.

These doughnuts have
something to do with our case,

I promise you that.

- Ow!
- Move.

Jesus.

Oh, I'm sensing this guy's

gonna help us fill in
some blanks.

Oh, no, no, no, no,
not you guys again.

- Uh-uh, no way.
- Told you.

Look, I already told you,
made it perfectly clear,

I don't know that woman.

Well, I'm sensing
that you do know that woman,

that she was here.

You two were face-to-face.

What, are you psychic?

- Yes, he is.
- No, he's not.

Okay, fine. She was here,
like, two days ago,

but she just bought
some bear claws.

I didn't sleep with her.

We asked you if you slept
with her?

Come on, look at me.

Does it look
like I'm going around

trying to bed a bunch of blond
desperate-housewife types?

Like that's my thing, 'cause
they can't get enough of this?

I'm drawn to you
in a weird sort of way.

Maybe they recognize you
from Children of the Corn.

Maybe they know you
from The Cosby Show, Bud.

- I'm not Bud.
- Did we ask you anything else?

Uh, no, you were too busy

trying on
everybody else's shoes.

And then the angry one
stole my doughnut hat.

Why's he looking at me?
I'm not the angry guy.

You are pretty angry.

Our victim wasn't a stalker.

He wasn't following the woman
because he was into her.

He was on a case.
He was hired to do so.

- He was on the job?
- He was a private investigator.

That's probably
why we befriended him.

We were helping him.

I'm pretty sure I was
hooking up at the time--what?

No, that makes total sense.

It's a simple
snap-and-sh**t adultery case.

I can solve that in my sleep.

Yeah, we were helping him
look for the woman.

- We were feeling generous.
- That's what it was.

I had the munchies.
I should poop.

Are we allowed to take
a bathroom break?

I should've gone at the bar.

You owe me $31,
'cause you licked the sugar

off all the powdered doughnuts
like a weird sicko.

Oh.

Oh, this is good.
This feels good.

This is gre--

We finally have a handle
on what happened last night.

Hey!
You k*lled Bobo!

Or there could still be

a few details
floating around out there.

Okay, just take it easy.
Nobody k*lled anybody.

Actually, Lassie, you--
you might have k*lled someone.

- Shh!
- Bobo's dead.

- Shh.
- And you're gonna pay.

Who the hell is Bobo?

Oh, come on.

I'm head detective of the
Santa Barbara Police Department.

You better have
some very serious evidence

if you're gonna accuse me
of vandalism like that.

Come on, Lassie!
Come on! Oh!

- You're idiots.
- It's almost cool.

There, see?
I didn't k*ll anybody.

- You son of a bitch!
- Back up.

That jerk took us out!

Uh, uh, not so fast.

Son of a bitch.

So that's how Lassie
got the black eye.

Bobo.

I am sorry for your loss.

- Hello?
- Guten Tag.

There's been another body.

I just got verified on Twitter.

- Oh, that's nice, man.
- Yeah. Thanks.

Okay, here we are again.

This is Scott Williams, age 44,

Caucasian, found dead in his car
off of Santa Viego Drive.

That's right down the block
from Bobo's Donuts.

What bearing does that have,
Mr. Guster?

Fun fact.

Gus is making a book of them.

Is that the same guy
that punched Lassie?

Yes, it is.

Lacerations
on the victim's knuckles

indicate
he may have been involved

in a physical altercation
prior to his death.

I can do a skin test.

Now, if those knuckles made
contact with someone's face,

we will find DNA in the cuts.

- Woody!
- Or not.

Or not.
DNA is, uh...

Hardly conclusive...

Really sketchy at best.

Woody, what can you tell us?

Based on skin color
and blood coagulation,

I'd say this guy's been dead
for no more than nine hours.

I'd put his T.O.D.
somewhere between 1:45 and 2:30.

Throw out another fun fact.

Why would I do that?

- Just do it.
- Fine.

- Chief Vick...
- Mm-hmm.

Did you know that more people
are k*lled by donkeys annually

than die in air crashes?

I am sensing that our John Doe
from this morning

and Mr. Williams here
are connected.

I think they knew each other.

Okay.
Well, that is at least a lead.

Uh, detective Lassiter,
O'Hara is back on the case.

- You two should--
- Terrific.

You two should follow
Mr. Spencer's scent

over to Mr. Williams'
residence, okay?

All right, let's do it.

- Not you, Shawn.
- Okay.

Don't we have to talk
about last night?

Yes.

I mean, you--you drop
this huge, shocking information

over the phone,

and then you just expect me
to keep it a secret?

I'm sorry.
I don't--I did--I just--

I don't want you to worry
about it, you know?

I'm trying to take care
of this thing myself.

Well, it's not
just about you, Shawn.

It's about us.

I mean, we're in this together,
and we have to trust each other.

Okay, great.
You're so right.

I just--we've been dancing
around this thing all day.

No one will just, you know,
come out with it.

I think we should lay it
all on the line,

let the cards fall
where they may,

even if it destroys lives
in the process.

You asked me to move in
with you.

Lassie k*lled Williams.

Lassiter k*lled Williams?

Move in?

We--we've only been together
for, like, four months.

Again,
Lassiter k*lled this man?

I don't think he did,
not anymore.

I'll explain on the way.
We have to get to his house.

Wait. So all of that
happened last night?

How could you keep that
from me?

Which one of these houses
is Teri Hatcher's?

I'm not keeping stuff from you.

I just don't remember
what happened.

I expect someone
to come around every corner,

saying, "not you again."

Don't do it, ma'am.
Please don't.

So, if you technically
don't remember asking me,

do you still want to move in?

What, are you kidding me?
Of course I do.

Of course. Why else
would I be shrink-wrapping

all my old sweaters to make room
in the closet for yours?

I just think you like
to shrink-wrap things.

That's true.
It's fun to watch things shrink.

She just texted me again.

She can't get enough of me.

I just want to know what line
"last night Gus" laid on her.

I need "last night" Gus, Shawn.

Man, I've got my own problems.

"Last night Shawn"
was all evolved and mature

and not a commitment-phobe.

"Today Shawn" is very much
a commitment-phobe.

All right, we're dealing with
a single guy, possibly a loner.

Dobson, you start shaking down
all his coworkers.

I want this place dusted
and processed in the next hour.

Let's go!

All right, there is no way
a straight, single guy

picked out those drapes.

I like those drapes, Shawn.
They're stately.

Okay, how many guys you know
that pee sitting down?

I pee sitting down, Shawn.

All the men's health journals

say it's better
for your circulation.

Remember when we talked
about inside voice?

I'm using my inside voice.

Okay, now it's time to learn
about no voice.

All right...

You cannot possibly tell me that
you keep potpourri

in your underwear drawer.

There was a woman here.

Williams does not live alone.

Look what I found in the trash.

Somebody put their fist
through this picture.

I'll be damned.

That blond is the woman
in the photos on the phone.

She's Williams' wife.

He hired the P.I. to find
evidence of her cheating.

She found out
he was doing this...

And she k*lled them both.

If this is true,
then we are dealing

with one cold-blooded k*ller.


We better find her before
more bodies start piling up.

This was way easier when we
thought Lassie was the m*rder*r.

I'm just saying.

Tom Wopat's office.

Dad, just calm down.

Shawn, I don't know
why I'm here, but I woke up

in some strange motel room...

T-that I apparently trashed.

Oh, man, I screwed up
really bad.

Is it the Suncrest Motel?

Yes.
Yes, it is.

How'd you know that?

And then the angry guy
stole my doughnut hat.

Oh, man, I-I know--
I know what happened.

You were with us last night.
Tell me, do you, uh--

do you see a doughnut hat
laying around anywhere there?

Wha--

- Yes, I do.
- Oh, my God.

Dad, you're the angry one.

"Blond, 5'7", 125 pounds."

Shawn, oh, I think I ordered up
a lady of the night.

Dad, that's the woman
the private eye was tailing.

We must've landed there because
we thought she was showing up.

What--what--
what private eye?

I'll explain when I get there.

Shawn...

I'm not wearing any pants.

Dad, sit tight.

Shawn, come alone.

I have a very strong vision

about another place
we may have been last night!

This one does not involve food,

so please bring snacks
if you are peckish.

I just want to get home

and forget this whole thing
ever happened.

Yeah, after we go to the front
desk and pay for that towel.

I'm not gonna be an accomplice
to your petty theft.

- I--
- Hey. Whoa, hey.

I told you to come alone.

Look, dad, we're very close
to solving this thing, okay?

We need them.

Carlton, Gus, Juliet.

What the hell happened to you?

Huh? Oh, oh, uh,
Shawn called me up

and told me you guys
were working on a case,

tying up some loose ends,
so I, uh--

I decided to rush down here.

Oh, hell with it.
Screw it.

I guess I slept here
last night.

Wait a minute.
You were here, too?

Wait. You weren't
in Gus' car with us.

- Who drove you here?
- I know who.

Shawn,
are you getting a vision?

It's not exactly a vision.

Uh...

I don't want
to be here anymore.

I guess I was in
no condition to drive.

- Do you even know Jim?
- Jim who?

You guys again.

Oh, Christ.

- Whoa.
- You owe me 480 bucks.

- What?
- That--

that is not a flotation device.

All right, you know what?
This is getting ridiculous.

I am head detective of the
Santa Barbara Police Department.

We were here last night

on an official
police investigation,

and I hardly think
we were pulling juvenile stunts.

I have security video,

if you'd like to watch it
for yourself.

- You said 480, right?
- Yeah.

That broad you were waiting for
last night--

She finally showed up
this morning.

In fact,
she might still be here.

- She never checked out.
- Can you lead us to her room?

Can you give me the check?

- What is this?
- Shawn.

Sorry.

Whoever she was having
the affair with

was here with her.

Oh, my God.

Everybody get out of here!

Take cover!

Aah!

Does someone want
to explain to me

what the hell happened
last night?

Okay, I just want to go
on record

and say that I was
on that couch first.

I don't even know
what that's supposed to mean.

Whoa. E-excuse me.
May I help you?

My beef ain't with you, lady.

I need to talk
to these two cats right here.

- Mother of God.
- It's Ed Lover.

Mr. Spencer, what is Ed Lover
doing in my office?

I guess your mother
never taught you

about taking
another grown-ass man's bling.

- Wait. That's your bling?
- This is my brand, player.

Dude, you took
Ed Lover's bling?

I don't remember doing it.
I swear.

Come on, son, you know damn
well you swiped my ultra brite

while I was on the dance floor
getting my freak on.

Who the hell is Ed Lover?

- Come on, son.
- Come on, son.

I apologize for my dad's life.

Shawn and I are huge fans,
Mr. Ed Lover,

in case we didn't mention it
last night.

Huh? I should whip both
of your narrow asses.

Wasted half of my day
tracking you down.

Come on, son!

Get the "f" out of here
with that bull.

Did that--was he--

What a night.

What a night!

Okay, please tell me

that that is gonna be
the last interruption.

Now, people--

What's up, baby?

Listen, Mr. Guster, we're all
happy that you can manage

to captivate the honeys
or whatever it is,

but right now
you are on my time.

Can you hold on one sec?

Actually, chief,
I'm on my time.

I almost lost my life
an hour ago,

and I'm sick of it.

"Last night Gus" had it right.

And I don't want to sit here
wasting another moment

when I could be living the life
I was meant to live--

ballin' and sh*t-callin'.

So, if you don't mind,
I'm gonna keep it one hundy

and take this call.

- Buddy--
- Sorry, Shawn.

It's hard out there for a pimp.

It's true, chief. He's got
to make money for the rent.

I am not even gonna bring up

the destruction
of Bobo the doughnut man.

Uh, chief, if I may...

In lieu of flowers,

- Ow! Ooh!
- I'll get you.

- Stop it!
- I will destroy you.

This is not a joke...

Mr. Spencer!

That expl*si*n
was meant to k*ll,

and the k*ller
is still out there.

And, Henry Spencer,
where are your pants?

I'm not entirely sure, Karen.

Her name
is Gloria Williams, chief,

and she
couldn't have gotten far.

We have contacted
every transportation agency

in an effort to slow her down.

And what are we doing
still sitting here?

And then it hit me--

the calculated way in which
these murders were committed,

the fire-b*mb ambush
at the motel,

the fact that Gloria Williams
has managed to disappear

without a trace.

This does not fit the profile

of your typical
suburban housewife.

I am so bored.

Now, we've been
concentrating on her.

But I don't think
she's capable of this.

We should be focusing
on the men

that she was
in the photographs with.

One of them
could be our k*ller.

We can eliminate
the doughnut guy.

- He sold her some doughnuts.
- That's the hotel manager.

So we know he was photographed
when she was checking in.

Valet, grocery bagger,

hair stylist...

- Who's that guy?
- Whoa. Hold up.

I can't help it, Shawn.
My body craves buttery goodness.

- We need to see Dwayne.
- Who's Dwayne?

Dwayne, my man,
we just don't see enough of you.

That's because nobody
ever utilizes my skill set.

They forget about me...
Literally.

They locked me in here
over the holiday weekend.

I survived on the moisture
of my desk cactus

- and girl scout cookies.
- My God, that's horrible.

- I know.
- Spencer...

- Why are we here?
- Oh, right.

Okay, here we go.

We're gonna lose the cleft chin
on the guy in the cafe.

Thank you, sir.

Uh, now let's get rid
of his wrinkles

on the face and the neck there.

Perfect.

Now we want to take
the long hair

and the beard and mustache
off the mug sh*t.

Ladies and gentlemen
and Dwayne,

I give you
Mr. Leroy Jenkins!

Holy crap.

This guy's responsible

for over 37 armed robberies
throughout the southwest.

He k*lled
several security guards.

Nobody's gotten a picture of
this guy in the last 25 years.

He's remained
absolutely invisible.

Jenkins wasn't worried
about the repercussions

of sleeping
with a married woman,

but some low-grade private eye

that might have pictures of him
on his phone--

Now, that could expose
his whereabouts.

Wait a minute.
Everyone just wait a minute.

You're telling me
that one of the most wanted guys

in the state is gonna walk
right into a bar full of cops

and try to get a cell phone.

I'm sensing he had a partner.

Pull up his "Most Wanted" page.

All right, stats, aliases--
nothing.

Wait.
Next of kin--

Blow that up.

His only known relative--

an adopted daughter,
Lilly Jenkins.

That's the girl.

That's the girl
from the bar last night

that Gus
supposedly hooked up with,

only younger and cuter
and less m*rder*r-y.

Oh, man, that means
"last night Gus"

did not have the game
he thought he did.

Where's Guster now?

Well...

Here's the crib.

Nothing too fancy,
you know, just the basics--

couch,
brand-new 46-inch plasma,

me.

So he sent his daughter
into the bar

to get the phone and the
pictures from the private eye.

She wasn't planning
on befriending a bunch of cops,

so she drugged us
to get to the P.I. alone.

Got him alone.
He had Gus' phone.

And then she thought that Gus
had the private eye's phone

that had
all the pictures on it.

That's why she's been trying
to hook up with him all day.

Wait a minute.
Who's car are we taking?

Hmm.

- Mm.
- Mm.

Mm.

Mm, mm, mm.

Mm-hmm-hmm.

To the beginning
of something...

we should've done last night.

- There it is.
- Hmm.

I can't believe Gus

was so careless to fall
for some girl's hustle.

Look, Jules,
I don't think anyone

should be held accountable for
anything they said last night,

whether it was murdering people
or just speaking out of turn.

So you're telling me
you're convinced

that the daughter
k*lled these two men?

No, I can see
the confrontation with the P.I.

it didn't go well.

Lilly had to call in her father
to do her dirty work.

The husband, Scott Williams,
he knew about the photos,

so he had to go, too.

You--

you know what I like about you?

- Hmm?
- You have eyes.

Yes, I do.

- Two of them.
- Two of them, yes.

Mm.

Mm.

Will you excuse me
to freshen up?

Sure.

Hmm.

Mm.

Hello, friend.

Hello.

You're a tough little fella
to track down.

Wiping.

- Wiping.
- Without your friends,

I don't think you're gonna be
giving me any trouble now,

are you?

I have just one question
for you.

- What's that?
- Where's the phone?

- Where's the phone?
- Where is the phone?

- Where is the phone?
- Where's the phone?

Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Do you not see the lights?

Hey, boss, isn't that
your Ford Fusion?

You're the bartender.
You son of a bitch.

McNab, go, go, go.

- Carlton!
- I will k*ll you!

I know your face!

Stop repeating
everything I'm saying.

Stop repeating
everything I'm saying.

You're not getting it, are you?

I have a g*n
pointed at your head,

and I will sh**t you
unless you give me that phone.

Can I squish your face?

- He will sh**t you.
- He's gonna sh**t you?

No, you.

Wow. You were in the bathroom
for a really long time.

Drop the g*n, Jenkins!

Easy.

Easy.

- Don't sh**t Gus!
- Then tell him to take cover!

Gus, take cover, buddy!

Oh, my God.

Somebody sh*t that guy's TV.

That's your TV!

What?
This dude has Taffy!

I love Taffy!

Gus, this guy
is trying to k*ll us.

He is bad!

We are good!

Good job, buddy.

Uh...
This dude has a g*n.

Yes, he does--a big one.

Look, don't drown them.
Just powder them, okay?

- Good.
- Donald...

Do you like to samba?

What the hell's wrong
with this guy?

Don't even think
about licking that.

It's not really
gender-specific, is it?

No.

You know...

As much as this
pains me deeply to say...

- Thank you.
- For what?

Well, for helping us get
through this whole ordeal

and also for believing
that I didn't k*ll someone.

Gus was pretty sure
you did k*ll someone.

I still am.

Don't worry, Lassie.

You'll k*ll someone someday.

Now, come on,
let's spoon it out.

Come on, we'll make it right,
half moon style.

Oh, this is not gonna
be easy with Jules.

Any chance you can, uh, channel
"last night Gus,"

- tell me how to handle this?
- Please.

It turns out "last night Gus"
is very similar to "today Gus."

- I'm not ready.
- I understand.

You just have to be man enough

to tell her you want
to live alone.

It's that simple.

- You're right.
- I know.

- You tell her.
- Come on, son.

- Get out of here with that bull.
- All right.

All right.

- 100 bucks.
- Shawn.

Right.

Hey.

Hi.

Okay, so, listen, I-I've been
doing a lot of thinking

- about our conversation.
- Me too.

- You have?
- Of course.

Look, I don't want
the future us

to be dictated by something
that "last night Shawn" said.

So, if you can look me
in the eye

and tell me that "today Shawn"
definitely wants to move in...

- That's what I thought.
- No, no, no.

- I was--I was about to say yes.
- No, you weren't.

I was. I was just--
I was gonna use an accent,

and I was waffling between...

Scottish...

And Gaelic.

And the differences
are very subtle.

It's fine.

The fact that any version
of Shawn wanted to move in is...

Minty?

I was gonna say "romantic."

Really?

So you're not
terribly disappointed in me.

Look, I'm just saying
that it doesn't have to happen

right now, today.

Does that make sense?

- I understand.
- Okay.

- You're an incredible slob.
- Oh.

A hoarder, right?

I bet you--that you just live

amidst stacks and stacks
of periodicals

and--and taxidermy.

Is that what
you're trying to tell me?

You were ready
to move in with me.

Oh, I don't know about that.

Maybe "last night Shawn"
has more in common

with "today Shawn"
than "today Shawn" thinks.

- What?
- Don't--don't judge me.

I'm not judging.

You have a stuffed meerkat
in your home.

What?

And you don't use toilet paper.

Oh, okay, well,
you can give me some of yours.

That's all you have.
Post Reply