08x02 - S.E.I.Z.E. the Day

[bunniefuu]

Previously on Psych...

So the mayor's decided to send over a consultant,

Mr. Harris Trout.

I intend to save the taxpayers millions of dollars

by trimming the work force into a new model

of precision and efficiency.

Chief?

I got a six-month suspension.

But I have news for all of you.

I'm stayin'. And you know why?

Because you're the new interim chief of police.

Correct.

We will no longer be hiring psychics,

and you're no longer head detective.

I love you.

I love you too.

Now, as your new interim police chief,

I will guide you through this raid today

as we rid our city of another one

of its drug-dealing washouts.

Where's my head detective?

- Right here, sir. - I said my head detective.

When I ask for a freshly-demoted b*at cop,

I'll expect you front and center.

Capisce? And loosen those blues.

Nobody needs to see you advertising your business

to the whole community like that.

Now one more time: Where's my head detective?

Uh, that's...

that's me. I'm here.

- Okay, detective O'Hara... - Mm-hmm.

Now that you've been promoted to interim head detective,

on rare occasions, I'll be depending on you.

This is not one of those occasions.

Now, in six minutes,

we're gonna be moving inside in two-by-two formations.

Yes, Gus, that's the point.

We need a new business venture,

which means I will be the motivational life coach.

You will be my booking agent and audience plant.

You don two hats.

I don't wanna don two hats, Shawn.

A beret up front.

You got a little beanie on the crown

of your smooth chocolate thunderdome.

You can't just become a life coach

without a life or coaching skills.

I already got one of those words

with the dots in between the letters.

Encapsulates my philosophy.

- It's called an acronym. - S.E.I.Z.E.

That's "seize," or as the Mayans called it, "seize."

You do realize the letters

are supposed to stand for something, right?

Guess what the "S" in S.E.I.Z.E stands for?

- What? - Seize.

You're an idiot.

We need to figure out a way to get on the case fast

before Psych goes under.

Trout hates us, and right now

we're not supposed to step foot in the station

much less a crime scene.

Your new legal name is Recap McGhee.

Now, the perp inside that house

is a very dangerous bird,

a lappet-faced vulture, a red-necked ostrich.

Either way, in the analogy, it's molting.

Gotta figure out a way past these barricades, man.

I need a stage on which to display my skillz

in front of Sauertrout there.

Let's go to dinner.

You don't have to ask me twice.

Hey, you.

Yeah, you.

I'm Shawn Spencer.

This is my partner, Trending Ontwitter.

Hashtag what-would-Gus-do.

Couldn't help but notice the roses.

- Yeah, it's my anniversary. - Super.

Well, you don't have to ask us once.

We would love to join you and your lovely wife

for a six-course dinner.

Well, you know, they're not letting anyone past, so...

Oh, no?

Sounds like somebody needs to step up

and seize.

How do I seize, Shawn? I'll tell ya.

You go right over there and you let that jagbag know

there's absolutely nothing, and I mean nothing,

that is gonna keep you from wining and dining

your wife and your new black and white best friends.

'Cause after we leave, she's gonna get handsy.

- Say, yes, she is. - What?

- I don't know you. - No impending raid.

No g*ns, no cops. Nothing's gonna stop you.

Now, go. Seize!

Seize.

- Seize. - Yeah.

You got this, bro. You got this.

All right, listen up.

We're gonna have to move in from east to west.

Some of you may not know which way is east

and which way is west.

That's okay. That's west, that's east.

Excuse me, officer?

Seize. Seize.

- Seize. - Uh, listen.

I...

My house is right there, and it's my anniversary.

- And... - And we are with him, Trout.

- Old friends. - Hm.

Officer Lassiter, arrest this man

for interfering with a police investigation.

We're kidding. We're not with this dude.

- Just met the guy. - No.

I was just trying to get to my house.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

You'll be processed and released within the hour.

Well, maybe.

There's a chance that one of you might die today.

Probably you. Could be you.

Could be you.

Oh, it's go time, daddy-o.

Okay, is everyone crystal clear now?

Okay, let's move.

- Let's move, come on. - Uh, uh, chief?

Yeah?

I think we can call off the raid.

I've called you all down here for good reason.

The raid that took place here a couple of days ago

is a prime example of what I'm calling

"The New Santa Barbara,"

a city being swept clean of vermin,

yellow-bellied weasels, black-footed ferrets.

And the heroics that took place here

are something that should not and will not go unnoticed.

An unnamed officer successfully apprehended our suspect

without a single sh*t being fired.

That is the new SBPD.

No names, no faces.

Men and three women serving their city

and being led and nurtured by me, Harris Trout.

You know, it was the late and underappreciated

Millard Fillmore who once said--

Stay down!

I gotcha, boss.

♪ 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 ♪

All right, listen up.

Your new chief almost got k*lled today.

I want everyone here to think

about the impact of my death

just for a minute.

Let it marinate.

Swish it around the empty space between your ears.

It's immeasurably devastating, isn't it?

Now, let's catch this bastard and let's catch him fast.

I'm gonna hand the floor over to Detective O'Hara.

Today is her first briefing.

Try not to make this the most

humiliating day of your life, okay?

Hm.

Take it away.

Uh...you know what?

Can--can everybody come in a little closer?

Yeah. Yeah, that's good, thank you.

So we have an APB out on all late-model white vans.

Dude, if Trout sees us inside here,

he's probably gonna have us arrested.

Gus, don't be the 100th Luftballon.

We both know that yous and mees hit rock bottom, okay?

Psych hasn't had a case in what feels like a year.

And your sales last month at Central Coast

stunk up the whole frickin' city.

Whole city smelled like poo 'cause of your fusty--

- I get it, okay? - Good.

Because the life-coaching business

is not gonna take off until we have our first client.

Come on, son.

You need to tighten it up.

Tip-top, we don't stop.

Spencer and Guster knostin' boots around the clock.

Dude, that last part was weird.

It was mad weird. Super weird.

Now, you ready to do this?

No. What--

I'm proud of you.

And I see somebody who could use a little coaching.

Hey, Lassie.

I couldn't help but notice

that your career's in the latrine.

Lucky for you, I'm here to help you flush and start over.

Get away from me, Spencer,

or I will pierce your lower intestine

with a safety pin.

All right, just hear me out.

I know that Trout there has been turning a blind eye

to your heroics of late.

You wanna know why?

Because while you have been acting quite heroically,

you have not been speaking up.

And we all know that words are much louder than actions.

What?

Lassie, a brilliant mind

perched under a thick, beaverish thatch of hair

has crafted techniques that will put your career

back on track, techniques rooted

in old English, the kind of English

that's taught in schools and, of course, in England.

- You're losing him, Shawn. - S.E.I.Z.E.

S-E-I-Z-E,

as in seize this moment.

Besides, nobody can hear a word Jules is saying anyway

'cause she feels guilty baggins about taking your gig.

So let the stern bush breathe...

be heard. Seize.

Now, we have no description of the sh**t.

Um, but the good news is--

The good news is that I am back.

But as those of you who witnessed today's heroics

already know, I was never really gone.

Now, some of you may be under the impression

that my middle name is "Danger."

It is not. It's Jedediah.

- Ooh, rough start. - Ah, jeez.

But it should be Danger...

because some lowlife assassin wannabe

thinks they can take a sh*t at one of us

and get away with it?

Well, not while I've got a pulse

under my performance zone male spanx.

Now, I may be required to write no less

than 80 traffic citations this month,

but I will not rest until the miscreant

who took a sh*t at our chief is caught.

- He's on a roll now. - Jebediah?

- That can't be right. - Now, you mark my words.

And you mark them well.

I, Carlton Jedediah Lassiter,

will go out in a hailstorm of b*ll*ts

if that's what it takes to catch this scumbag.

I will leave this perfectly-flawed planet,

my body littered with lead,

my heart bleeding blue upon the asphalt

of the city I love so much,

because this is my house.

And with every fearless fiber of my being,

I say unto you: This scumbag is going down.

Seize.

Smoochy pie, I have got news.

Oh, really? Well, I've got good news too.

I had another big day, baby.

Aw, did Trout give you your old job back?

No, but I can almost guarantee you

that it is under review.

Review? Well, that's good, right?

Good? No. Great? Yes.

And I almost got k*lled today, kitten-head.

Oh.

And I told my colleagues

and that stubborn ass-clown Trout

in no uncertain terms that I am back

- and better than ever. - Oh.

You gave him the speech, huh?

Oh, I gave him the speech, all right.

With or without the middle name?

With.

Uh, would you like to hear my news?

You shoulda seen their faces

as I built up to the part where--

You die in a firestorm of b*ll*ts.

Hailstorm. In a hailstorm of b*ll*ts.

Yeah. I'm pregnant.

Dobson actually asked for my autograph afterwards.

Of course, I declined.

And Trout, well...

Pregnant pregnant?

Oh.

It's Unit 404-niner. I need a wants and warrants

on a white minivan, 2007, 2, wilco, queen,

Ivan, 3-3-2. Over.

Another one?

Yes, Franny, another one.

That's like the fourth white van

in the last hour.

It's called being thorough, Franny.

Now, give me the wants and warrants.

It's the tone in your voice. That is my issue.

Just run the plates.

You hurt my feelings.

You treat me like a voice and not a person,

and that's not right.

I'm a human person. And I don't ask for much.

Hey.

I give, and I give, and I give--

- Franny, I need backup. - Really?

Yes, really!

I work in the third most dangerous business

on the planet.

Hey, take a deep breath, okay?

I forgive you. And I got you.

Okay, we got two black-and-whites on the way.

Talk to me. What do we got?

- Not sure yet. - Suspect armed?

I don't have eyes yet.

But better safe than sorry, right?

Carlton, are you...okay?

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

You hear that? That noise coming from the van.

You hear that? You hear that, right?

Yeah.

Yeah, I think I know who that is.

Are they dangerous?

Yeah, that's king candy from Wreck-It Ralph.

It sounds like they're watching an animated movie.

Oh.

Okay.

Well, hey, we cleared another white van, right?

Can I take my kids to school now or what?

You bet!

You said you wish to die in a hurricane of b*ll*ts.

Correct?

A hailstorm.

The madman that tried to assassinate me

is a rare bird, okay?

He's a forest owlet, possibly a kakapo.

This soulless creature tried to k*ll me,

which means he will undoubtedly take you apart

soup to spanx with little to no hesitation,

which is great for everyone.

So you bag him.

Hopefully, he empties his w*apon right into you.

Everybody wins, right?

Now, if you pull this off and you don't die,

perhaps I'll re-review your file, okay?

Unlikely, but you never know.

Okay, so, uh...

go get 'em.

Gus,Runaway Train was, like, 30 years ago.

And nobody saw Crash the series. Next--

Shawn, my mom does not need a life coach.

Okay.

We both know she's playing the underground poker circuit.

She goes all in with pocket ducks

and loses her stacks to, I don't know,

Ronan the Crippler--

- Lassie? - Aha!

- What are you doing here? - Change of heart, huh?

Ready to seize the day?

Because I happen to have an opening in my schedule.

No, you twit.

I need you two dodos to help me find the guy

who's trying to sh**t Trout.

- Why are you coming to us? - Because, um, my situation

has recently changed, and I'm no longer

physically capable of pursuing this case on my own.

And I would like to just leave it at that, please.

Sure. How has your sitch changed?

- Not physically capable how? - You changed in what way?

- Not physically capable why? - Would you stop it?

Are you gonna help me or not?

Come on, guys.

- We're in, but... - We need to get paid.

Fine, and just so you know,

I took a 43% pay cut when I got demoted

- and I can only afford-- We'll take it.

Now, do we have any info

on who might wanna k*ll Trout

besides all of us?

Can't believe...

can't believe Trout made a whole scrapbook

out of his death threats.

Is it just me or did he put

some serious time into this project?

He did. It's impressive and weird.

Life insurance?

Hey, Lassie, I think you left--

Thank you.

- Lassie, you okay? - Seriously, man.

You seem a little blue.

Are you getting anything or not?

Whoa, come on, man. The pressure.

I'm the CEO of two major companies

and a fantasy cricket team, which reminds me:

I gotta drop Sachin Tendulkar from my squad.

I mean, sure, the man bowls a wicked googly--

- But the wickets. - Yeah.

Wickets are way down this season.

Okay, I've zeroed in on our number-one suspect,

and this one's a doozy.

A dangerous doozy?

You betcha.

Okay.

We've got our sh**t.

Shawn, are you gonna finally tell us

who we've been following?

I told you, Gus: It's a grown-man surprise.

Now, wait for ♪ it...

Well, whoever it is, I sure as hell hope he's not armed.

Really?

That's a .38. He's got a .38.

Isn't the same caliber g*n the sh**t used?

Okay, good news: We've got our sh**t.

Bad news:

Lassie gets to tell Trout

that his mom is the one who tried to k*ll him.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Hold it right there, Trout's mom.

- Hold it yourself, ham-head. - Ham-head?

Ma'am, I'm gonna need to ask you

to place the w*apon you've got hidden in your waistband

on the ground.

Don't be lookin' at my jutes.

What?

Thank you.

Now, Mrs. Trout, we need to ask you some questions

about your son Harris.

I'll give each of you 20 bucks

to talk about anything other than my jerk-weed son.

- That's a great deal. - Hey.

Trout's mom, is it true that you send

a threatening letter to your son

every year on his birthday?

Yes. My relationship with Harris is complicated.

He resents me because I left his dad

for the pool guy Azucar de la Punto.

Sugar...

And I resent him for his personality.

No, I love my son but I hate his insides.

And could I give you 25 bucks each

just to tell me what this is about?

She's not gonna keep this deal on the table forever.

Stop it!

Mrs. Trout, what's going on, ma'am,

is that someone tried to k*ll your son

with a .38 very much like that one.

- Several sh*ts were fired. - Did they hit him?

No.

Don't you mean "Did I hit him?"

No, I don't. You know why?

Because I wouldn't have missed.

- Trout's mom. - Hey, hey, hey, take a powder!

What is wrong with you?

How do I tell Trout

his mom is in interrogation room one?

Well, Lassie,

I'm so glad you asked that,

because right now is the perfect opportunity

for you to utilize the second letter in S.E.I.Z.E...

Will you stop it?

Which, of course, stands for "eggs,"

as in you gotta break a few

in order to make an omelet or pancakes

or muffin tops or dijonnaise,

'cause there is eggs in everything.

- Am I right, Gus? - No.

This is delicate situation.

But the best thing you can do right now

is march into Trout's office,

look him in the eyes, and say, "Hey, Sauertrout...

I ain't afraid to cr*ck no eggs."

Oh, God.

You do realize that Lassie's

probably gonna get fired, right?

Yeah, but we might get paid--

- Aah! - Aah!

- 'Scuse me, chief. - Lassiter.

Does this look like a good time to you?

I'm not entirely sure what it looks like, sir.

The eyes are delicate, mysterious figs,

a complicated combination of aqueous humor fluid

and ganglion photosensitive cells.

Now, were I to lose my sight,

which is a 12% chance, my blind exercises

perfectly prepare me for my new pitch-black world.

Absolutely, sir. My apologies.

Now, what else could you possibly need?

Well, sir, I just came in

to inform you that...

Nevermind.

Eggs.

- Eggs. - No, I'm not g--

Eggs.

Chief, your mother is in interrogation room one,

and I think she may be the person

who tried to sh**t you dead.

I want first cr*ck at her.

Did you do it or not? Tell me.

I am a stabber not a sh**t. You know that.

Look, I hope dad is in heaven right now watching.

The devil is making s'mores

with his spongy brain.

See, I knew you never loved dad.

Nobody ever loved that S.O.B.

Look, he supported all my creative desires.

Well, he supported his empty head on his triple chin.

- He had a thyroid problem, ma. - All right.

Ballistics is running the Trout's mom's .38

to see if it's the one used in the sh**ting.

Looks like this case is over.

All I ever wanted to do was dance.

Oh, you and Ginger Rogers.

We have a report of sh*ts fired

at a coffee shop called "Javva the Cupp."

Witnesses say they saw a white van driving away.

Wait a second.

That means Trout's mom is not our sh**t.

No.

No!

- I'm disappointed, is all. - Mm.

We've got one injured on the way to the hospital.

I'm heading there now to interview the victim.

Carlton, would you please come with me?

I could really use your help on this case.

Maybe we should come too.

- Yeah, that's a good idea. - Yeah.

Okay, just don't tell what's-his-face.

Azucar was a terrible pool guy and a thief!

He knew a dozen ways to fight algae.

Oh, my God, I don't wanna think about that, ma.

So, um, how do I tell Trout

that his mom is actually innocent

and that the person who tried to k*ll him

is still out there running rampant?

Well, Lassie, I'm so glad you chose this moment

to make that inquiry.

What you need to focus on

- is the "I" in S.E.I.Z.E... - Shawn.

Which, of course, stands for "I don't know."

- Oh, my gosh. - Or...

Mm-mm? Because sometimes,

believe it or not Lassie, it's super sweet

to not know.

Oh, God.

Vance, did you get a good look at the sh**t?

No, but I profiled him.

Unemployed, dumpy, single, 5'10" and under.

The King Kong of losers.

Aw, come on.

But what is this? Hey, nurse.

Chewbacca-ccino from Javva the Cupp

on the fly, or I'm gonna sue this hellhole

for botching my bandages.

And hurry up.

I got a full bedpan with your name on it.

Look, are we about done here?

I mean, I realize you're all public servants

with low-paying jobs to do,

but V-Mac's got calls to bang,

peeps to see, lives to ruin.

Well, V-Mac-- dope handle--

the possibility remains that the attempt

on your life was not completely random.

Do you by chance know a man named Harris Trout?

That's a stupid name. No.

Do you know anyone who may want you dead?

My wife, my main mistress.

Ooh, my mistress' smoking-hot sister.

Their dads, all the guys who work for me,

a lot of their wives and sisters.

Okay, I think we're done here, right, Carlton?

- Carlton? - Huh?

Oh.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second, you guys.

I think there is a connection between V-Mac here and Trout.

Our k*ller is targeting a-holes.

Think about it: He's cleaning up the city one a-hole at a time.

He's whackin' a-holes.

Either that, or he wants to be the g-poobah

of all the a-holes.

By the way, I gotta make a phone call.

I know someone who's in grave danger.

Listen to me: There is a crazy person

on the loose, and he's targeting your kind.

Yeah, what kind is that, Shawn?

That's not important, okay?

What's important is...

Shawn, is this some kind of joke,

or am I really in danger?

Shawn? Are you still there?

- I'm serious. - Just stay alive.

"Dear son: Even though we have never met,

- don't be sad." - All right, here's the deal.

Just got off the horn with Vance McMillan,

the gentleman who was att*cked earlier today?

First of all, the guy's a gem.

I feel like I've known him my whole life.

Golf trip in the works? You betcha.

Second of all, the personal items we booked into evidence

from his sweet yellow corvette-- those need returning.

- All right? - Well...

is he gonna come by the station or--

Hey, the man has a business to run, okay?

And you're sitting here wasting city stationery

on a letter to your imaginary friend

Raoul the hairless wolf, who lives in your pantry.

Yeah, so V-Mac's in his office.

He'll be looking out for you, all right?

So you're Trout's errand boy now?

No, you will get over this, Carlton Jedediah.

You will get your head back in the game

and you'll get back to dodging b*ll*ts.

Oh, jeez!

Don't be a white van. Don't be a white van.

Be taupe, or off-white, or beige.

Off-white, that's the one.

Jeez.

Okay.

Okay. You can do this.

No, you can't.

Okay, listen to me.

I really wanna be there for you, little buddy.

But I'm kind of in a little pickle right now

and I could really use your help.

So tell me what to do.

Really?

Okay.

Speaking of which,

I also have a S.E.I.Z.E appointment at 9:00 A.M.

With your mother.

Did she admit that she needs help?

She admitted all sorts of things.

- Things like what? - What's the good word, Lassie?

- Is that the white van? - Uh-huh.

That means the Trout sh**ting and the V-Mac sh**ting

are definitely not random.

Nuh-uh. This ruthless psychopath

has come back to finish off Vance.

That means Trout is still in danger.

We should warn him.

Well, should we really, though?

- Hm. - All right, Lassie.

Let's do this like men.

Okay.

Lassie, what are you doing?

Get up here.

- You guys go. Here. - What?

Man, I'm not taking your g*n.

- Just take it, Gus. - Hell no.

- Spencer, take my g*n. - I'm not ta--

You need to gather yourself, man.

Look, I don't know what is going on with you

but you need to grab hold of the fourth letter

in S.E.I.Z.E., which is the "I."

- Is the "Z." - Which stands for "zebra."

You need to embrace your stripes

because they are black, and they are white,

and they are zigzaggy.

- They're not zigzaggy. - Who are you, man?

You are Carlton Skip-the-Middle-Name Lassiter.

And you need to stone up.

And you need to tickle the stones,

and you need to seize the day.

My stripes have changed, all right?

Here-take it.

- Take my g*n! - Oh, my gosh.

Keep an eye on the van, all right?

Make sure nobody comes out. We'll go snoop.

God!

Damn it.

Dude...

I think this whole demotion-to-b*at-cop thing

is really jacking with Lassie's head.

Not to mention sucking all the life right out of him.

Yeah.

My situation has changed,

and I'm not physically capable of pursuing this case

on my own.

- Gus! - Shh!

What?

I think I know what's wrong with Lassie.

- What? - I think he's dying.

What? Don't be ridiculous, Shawn.

Come on, son.

Think about the last 24 hours, man.

Think about what we just saw outside.

The man can barely move.

His disease-ridden body--

right on the cusp of throwing in the towel of life.

Oh...my..gosh.

Lassie's dying.

Oh, no. What is that?

Why are you doing that?

What is that?

I'm trying to shed tears for Lassie.

They won't come, and I feel ashamed.

Don't do that. Stop that.

Yeah, maybe we can give him one more gift,

you know, before he's worm food,

help him solve this case.

Gets promoted back to detective, have a little peace

before they lower him into the ground.

- Lassie. - I-I couldn't get him.

It's all right.

We understand.

Is Vance okay?

V-Mac is not okay.

So you had the drop on our bad guy,

and somehow, with him dead to rights,

you let him get away?

Look at me when I'm talking to ya.

What happened to your fearless desire to die, officer?

It--it's totally still there.

Oh, it better be.

Otherwise, what good are you for?

Lucky for you, the time of death on Vance

was placed at 7:30 P.M., right?

So while your incompetence cost us our k*ller,

there was no way to save poor Vance

because his valuable life was gone

before you got there.

Not only did this city lose

one of its finest citizens tonight,

but Vance McMillan was a man

that I was on the verge of calling "Home Skillet."

And to make matters worse, I'm in grave danger, right?

Who do you think this man is coming for next?

Don't shrug like you don't know.

I want you to hand over your ticket book and pen

right now.

The other pen too.

No. Lassie.

- The man's perishing, Gus. - Mm-hmm.

He's a perisher.

That's something different, Shawn.

Mm?

Hey, guys.

We traced the white van back to a Tony Delfin.

We just searched his home.

Neighbors haven't seen him in a couple days.

Maybe that's because he's been on a rampage.

I'm still not sure how he's linked to Trout

and Vance McMillan, so I'm gonna head down

to the fish market where he works security

and see what else we can find out.

So maybe a little bit of a backup, hm?

Okay.

But we never had this conversation.

I'm gonna ask Lassie to come again as well.

He just looks so sad.

I just think if he could help solve this case,

he'd get in Trout's good graces

and back to his old self, you know?

All right, look, Jules, I'm not sure

how to tell you this.

Lassie's...dying.

- He's what? - It's terminal.

- Would you... - Ow.

Why would you say that?

Well, just think about the last couple of days.

Oh, sure, he's been acting weird.

But that doesn't mean he's dying.

Shh.

No, I am telling you, bunny-face:

This is the end. Six, maybe eight weeks, tops.

No, don't cry.

Please don't cry.

Oh, no, he's dying. Well, what do we do?

- What is it? - Not entirely sure.

I mean, we checked his pockets for quarters.

And his head for temperature.

We did rule out Pac-Man fever.

- Shawn, this is serious. - I know.

I can't deal with death.

Look, humor and Atari are the best medicine

for situations like this, Jules.

That's just science.

He took my ticket book and my pens.

Yes, both pens.

Because that's what they give you, shmoochy pants.

They give you six to eight weeks' severance.

I don't know.

Maybe this is all for the best.

I'll call you back.

Hi.

Hey, I'm headin' down to the fish market

where our suspect works.

You wanna come just to help get your mind off things

for a little while?

- Huh? - Yeah.

I think it'd be good.

Gus, I gotta tell you:

Your mom was pretty much an open book

at our session this morning.

What do you mean "open book"?

That's coach-client privilege.

Oh, God.

Oh, Carlton.

You know, don't you?

Do Heckle and Jeckle know too?

Man.

Just try not to let it spread around the station, okay?

Okay.

Okay, Frank.

What can you tell us about Tony Delfin?

Worked the guard gate.

He was a top-shelf d-bag.

Yeah, but you haven't seen him around for a long time, right?

- Hopefully? - No.

He hasn't shown up for work the last couple days.

Sweet.

Bob, this part is important.

This part is serious.

You have wood in your beard.

All right, the last "E" in S.E.I.Z.E.

Stands for "eighties."

And that pertains to you in a huge way

because I'm talking about the 1980s.

The greatest decade of all-time.

- Fashion, Republicans. - Apollonia, vanity.

So the next time you're looking around

this stink farm and you're thinking to yourself,

"My beard is delicious but my life is horrible,"

I want you to go into the abscesses of your mind

and think about the '80s,

'cause you know what you're gonna find?

You're gonna find hot dog on a stick.

Hot dog on a stick, man.

We traced the white van to a Tony Delfin.

My gut is telling me we need to check the fish guts.

I don't think Tony Delfin is our man.

And there is officially a ruthless k*ller

on the loose, you guys.

No.

No!

Okay, so we're almost positive our victims

weren't chosen at random,

but we can't seem to connect them in any way.

Uh, that's not true, Jules.

We got confirmation that Tony Delfin

is also an a-hole.

Which means our theory about the k*ller

knocking off a-holes or aspiring to be

the grand poobah of a-holes is still alive.

Very much so.

The only thing we know for sure

is that our suspect k*lled Tony,

stole his van, and has been driving that vehicle

for the last few days.

Mm.

Oh, but they won't let anyone pass.

It's my anniversary.

Chewbacca-ccino from Javva the Cupp on the fly.

I know who our k*ller is.

I even know where he lives.

Back where it all began.

Suspect's name is Patrick Aubashawn.

His wife's inside, hasn't seen her husband for two days.

- Let's do this. - Should we wait for Lassie?

Is the suspect inside?

No, Carlton, just his wife.

- You sure? - Pretty sure, yeah.

Well, like I said, I kicked Patrick out

a couple days after he missed our anniversary dinner.

He tried to make up this tall tale

about being arrested for sticking up for himself.

But there's no way that's true.

Marie, I am sensing that Patrick

had a serious problem with one of the other patrons

at Javva the Cupp?

Yes, he did.

This rich jerk would always cut in front of him

to order his Chewbacca-ccino.

And did your husband have any issues with Tony,

the guard who worked the gate at the fish market?

Yeah. Tony was a real d-bag.

He'd always make Patrick park in the guest lot

for not having his I.D. badge...

even though he's worked there for ten years.

And between Tony and that jerk-ass

at the coffee place,

Patrick was always late for work.

And then, finally, a few days ago, he got fired.

I couldn't take it anymore.

But Patrick just refused to stick up for himself.

I can't be married to and have kids with someone

who's scared of his own shadow.

What did you just say?

I said I can't be married to

and have kids with someone who's scared of his own shadow.

'Scuse me.

It's okay. He's dying.

Marie, we have reason to believe

that Patrick may have k*lled the jerk at the coffee shop,

Tony, and attempted to k*ll our current police chief.

What? Why?

Uh, because they ruined his life, in a nutshell.

And your boy went all Mikey Douglas

from Falling Down,

which I saw again recently, by the way.

Hair was a bold choice. No way around that.

Between that and ghost in the darkness,

looks like he went temporarily...

You can do this, Carlton.

Why would he do this alone?

'Cause he's toast, Jules. He's man toast.

And he wants to die in a monsoon of b*ll*ts.

- Remember? - Hailstorm.

We meet again.

Patrick, right? Okay.

Listen:

I totally get that you are on a rampage

against all the people that have wronged you,

but I am not one of those people.

- Well, you are now. - Okay, just hear me out, man.

I am in bad shape right now, okay?

Mentally and physically.

I don't care. So make your move,

and let's do this.

Patrick, I would really rather not engage

in an old-west-style standoff at this particular moment,

all right?

See, I have kind of a big deal

happening in eight months,

and it has totally usurped

my typically unbridled love of situations like this.

- So... - Lassie's not dying.

He's not? Then what's going on?

He's having a little Lassie.

See, the thing is

I'm going to be a father,

and I'm sure you can appreciate

why I would really prefer that this end peacefully

without any gunplay.

- No can do. - Okay, okay, j-j-just hang on.

Hang on.

Let me ask you something.

Have you ever heard of a program called S.E.I.Z.E.?

Good boy said...

You know, I-I'm sure

your kid's life will be fine without you around.

My old man wasn't around, and look at me.

So make your move.

So did--did you just say

you're gonna take me away from my family?

Yes.

What kind of man would I be

if I didn't make the world a safer place for my son?

I think I have to get in there.

Wait. I think Lassie's getting his mojo back.

Having a baby shouldn't make me scared.

It should make me even sharper than I was before.

- Is that right? - That's right, pal.

Because I'm Carlton "Danger" Lassiter.

You wanna draw against me?

Say when.

What?

You're crazy, man.

You can't do that. You're a policeman.

No. I'm your Huckleberry.

- You're my what? - Say when.

You should probably kiss the floor now.

Doc?

Hell, I didn't know you was back in town.

That's awesome.

I'm so glad you're okay, Carlton.

And congratulations on the baby.

I'm gonna be a papa.

All right. I'm goin' in.

What's my play here?

Last letter in S.E.I.Z.E., right?

Nah, I bailed on that whole thing, man.

Zebras, and eggs, and I don't even remember

what the "I" stood for.

- I don't know. - Exactly.

Just go in there and be yourself.

Are you sure about that?

Go in there and be someone else.

Good luck. We're all counting on you.

Officer Lassiter, you delivered.

I was betting against ya because it's satisfying.

But you pulled it off.

And for that, you're gonna be rewarded.

- You mean I'm back to being-- - No.

But in my current review of the financial budget

for the city, I discovered there's some available funds

for a department assigned driver.

- Your driver? - That's right.

You'll be expected to deliver me to and from

all of my personal and business-related events.

- When do I start? - Well, I ain't walking

to my 7:30 spin class, now, am I?

It's not about the fear of dying anymore, Henry.

It's about time.

And my life is out here chasing bad guys.

Carlton, I've made more mistakes in my life

than I care to admit. My marriage was doomed.

My relationship with my son

has been on life support far too long.

And it was all because of my love for the job.

But you know what I was too stupid to realize?

What?

There's always gonna be a bad guy to chase.

But your kid, your child?

They're only gonna grow up once.

They're gonna look at you like you are

the greatest thing in the world only for so long.

And things that are gonna happen in their life

are gonna happen once, one time only.

And those are the memories you wanna hold on to.

Memories of the job? No.

They won't even come close.

Trust me.

Thanks, Henry. I won't forget this.

Anytime.

What?

You're still giving me a ticket?

Gotta do it.

Gotta fill a quota.

We should do this more often.

And get that taillight fixed asap, Henry.