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jpgr1987
INT. SPENCER HOUSE, KITCHEN, DAY
HENRY comes down the stairs in a robe. He looks around and sees a messy counter with a trail of flour heading for the pantry. SHAWN rushes over and picks up a plate of muffins and brings it over.
SHAWN:
Good morning, Dad. I made you some of your favorite banana nut muffins.
HENRY walks over and takes the plate before sitting at the table.
HENRY:
Oh, yeah? Trying to get un-grounded before Robocop comes out on Friday?
SHAWN:
Did I mention I made them all by myself?
HENRY:
(takes a bite) Mmm. Not bad. What recipe did you use?
SHAWN:
My recipe? Uh, I can't tell you that. Um, it's a secret.
HENRY:
Well, let me see if I can guess some of the ingredients that you put in here. Is that a hint of cinnamon that I'm tasting?
SHAWN:
Oh, yeah, just a little.
HENRY:
And I'm detecting just a touch of cilantro... and thyme. Am I right?
SHAWN:
Whoa, Dad, you're really sharp.
HENRY:
Yeah, I am. Gus, you want to come out of the pantry?
The pantry door opens and GUS is wearing an over-sized apron of HENRY’S with the words “Cook ‘em, Dano” on it. He’s holding a whisk in his hands.
HENRY:
(sighs) Shawn, what have I told you 1,000 times before?
SHAWN:
Don't hide Gus in the pantry?
HENRY:
(sighs) No! A lie always leads to more lies. Instead of lying to me about baking these yourself, and then lying to me about your secret ingredients that you put in, you should have just said that Gus baked these muffins, and I might have let you off the hook.
SHAWN:
Who said Gus made them?
HENRY:
Go to your room.
SHAWN:
I don't know where that is.
HENRY:
Shawn...
SHAWN:
Who's Shawn?
HENRY stands and SHAWN runs up the stairs. GUS makes to follow, but runs back to the table and puts down the whisk before going after SHAWN.
PRESENT DAY
EXT. PARKING LOT, DAY
An older black man steps out of the passenger side of the Echo. He is GUS’ UNCLE BURTON.
UNCLE BURTON:
Public parking, huh? Nice to know that my first visit to Santa Barbara isn't a good enough reason for you to pop for a couple of extra bucks for the valet.
GUS:
The restaurant doesn't have valet parking, uncle Burton.
UNCLE BURTON:
Am I gonna need tokens to use the bathroom?
GUS:
It's been well reviewed. It got four spoons.
UNCLE BURTON:
Crack spoons, from the sound of it.
SHAWN runs up behind them.
SHAWN:
Gus, wait up.
GUS:
Shawn?
SHAWN:
Finally. You know, I went to two comic book stores and three women's volleyball games looking for you. Luckily your phone has GPS.
GUS:
You tracked me?
SHAWN:
Yes, I did. With a little help from my friends at your wireless service provider. By the way, they might be calling. They think you're a fugitive from justice. Run with it.
UNCLE BURTON:
Who is this, Burton?
SHAWN:
Shawn Spencer. (shakes UNCLE BURTON’S hand)
GUS:
He knows who you are, he knows what you do. Don't speak. We're going to dinner. You're not invited. Let's roll, Uncle Burton. (takes UNCLE BURTON by the arm and turns to walk away)
SHAWN:
Uh, Jules just called. We've got a case. We should go.
GUS:
You know, Shawn, maybe you should handle this one yourself. There's a first time for everything.
SHAWN:
First time for... What are you talking about?
GUS:
Sorry, Shawn, I can't make it.
GUS shakes his head and tries to get SHAWN to go along by nods and raising his eyebrows.
UNCLE BURTON:
For crying out loud, Burton, the cops are handing you a case. You've gotta take it. You're the only psychic detective they've got.
SHAWN:
That's very funny.
GUS:
Don't speak. Just one minute. (takes SHAWN by the arm and pulls him away from UNCLE BURTON)
UNCLE BURTON:
Yeah.
GUS:
I know what you're thinking.
SHAWN:
Of course you do, you're a psychic detective.
GUS:
A few months ago I was on the phone with my great aunt, who's hard of hearing, and pretty much out of it in general. I told her I was working part-time at a psychic detective agency. She must've misunderstood because now everybody on my mom's side of the family thinks that I'm a psychic detective. And you're…
SHAWN:
Gay?
GUS:
No.
SHAWN:
German?
GUS:
No.
SHAWN:
Invisible?
GUS:
My assistant, Shawn.
SHAWN:
Wow. Gus, this is, uh... Wow!
GUS:
I know. It's a mess.
SHAWN:
Why don't you just tell him it was a simple misunderstanding?
GUS:
It's too late. I can't come clean now without everyone thinking that I lied to them in the first place. Plus, Uncle Burton has had it out for me ever since I started going by "Gus," even though I'm named after him. If he figures out that I'm not psychic, he's gonna make it his mission to destroy me in front of everybody.
SHAWN:
All right, say no more. You're not getting destroyed by that man.
UNCLE BURTON:
I'm getting hungry over here.
SHAWN:
Don't worry, I have a plan.
GUS:
You do?
SHAWN:
(walks back to UNCLE BURTON) Uncle Burton.
UNCLE BURTON:
Mmm?
SHAWN:
How would you like to come with us, and watch your nephew in action?
UNCLE BURTON:
Tag along with you guys on a real detective case? Yeah. Hey, maybe this won't be the most boring vacation in the world after all. Maybe. (gets in the car)
SHAWN:
(to GUS) I can't wait to watch you work your psychic magic.
PSYCH
“Meat is Murder, But Murder is Also Murder”
By
Daniel Hsia
STARRING:
James Roday
Dulé Hill
Timothy Omundson
Maggie Lawson
Kirsten Nelson
And
Corbin Bernsen
DIRECTOR
Eric Laneuville
**********************************************************************
INT. WAGNER HOME, LIVING ROOM, DAY
The police are covering the body of Vince Wagner as SHAWN, GUS and UNCLE BURTON arrive.
SHAWN:
So, how you feeling, buddy? A little nervous? Feel something happening in the belly? Maybe you should do some of your Lamaze breathing.
GUS:
No, you know why, Shawn? Because your little plan to embarrass me isn't gonna work. As soon as the cops see Uncle Burton hanging around, they're gonna kick him right out. Nice try, Shawny boy.
BUZZ walks in from the kitchen.
BUZZ:
Hey, guys.
SHAWN:
Ah, Buzz.
BUZZ:
You know, I'm not sure they're gonna want you having any guests in here. I mean, since it's a crime scene and all.
UNCLE BURTON:
No, it's not.
BUZZ:
It's not?
UNCLE BURTON:
(steps forward until he’s face-to-face with BUZZ) No. There's no crime-scene tape at the door, the forensic guys are not collecting any evidence, and it seems as though you guys don't suspect foul play, so I've got as much right to be here as you do. (BUZZ opens his mouth to talk) And don't give me any of that fancy police talk, please. I've seen enough Hill Street Blues to know what's what.
GUS tries to signal BUZZ to kick them out.
BUZZ:
I gotta go. (walks away)
UNCLE BURTON:
Mmm.
UNCLE BURTON looks smugly at GUS just as JULIET enters from the kitchen.
JULIET:
Hey, thanks for coming so quick. Who's this?
GUS:
This is my uncle Burton, from New Jersey. Shawn invited him.
JULIET:
(shakes UNCLE BURTONS’S hand) Very nice to meet you, Uncle (looks at GUS) Burton?
UNCLE BURTON:
His mother named him after me. It's not a very common name, but some of us still use it proudly.
SHAWN:
Jules, what's the skinny? What do you got?
JULIET:
Vince Wagner, longtime restaurant critic at the Santa Barbara Mirror, died suddenly after eating his wife's chicken soup. All signs point to natural causes, but the wife's acting a little suspicious. I want to make sure I didn't miss anything, so I'd like for you to get a reading on her.
SHAWN:
Then that's what we will do. (motions to include GUS)
JULIET:
She's in the den. (walks away)
SHAWN:
Finally a chance to see Gus' psychic powers at work. (starts to follow after JULIET)
GUS:
(takes SHAWN’S arm) Shawn, can I speak to you for a second?
INT. WAGNER HOME, KITCHEN, DAY
GUS pushes SHAWN ahead of him into the empty kitchen.
SHAWN:
What is the problem here?
GUS:
Stop playing, Shawn. You know I can't do this!
SHAWN:
Yes, you can.
GUS:
No, I can't.
SHAWN:
You make some observations, you form a conclusion, and you reveal it to everybody in a ridiculous and/or roundabout way.
GUS:
What are you talking about?
SHAWN:
I'll show you.
GUS:
What?
SHAWN:
(opens cabinets) Uh-huh. (checks microwave) Whoa. (opens fridge) Oh!
Inside the fridge he spots a stack of take-out containers. He closes the fridge and turns around. He notices raw chicken next to vegetables on the counter as well as a scorched pot on the stove.
SHAWN:
Raw chicken next to vegetables, charred pots, and a refrigerator full of take-out containers. What does that tell you about the wife?
GUS:
I don't know. She sucks at cooking.
SHAWN:
Oh, you're on fire.
GUS:
What?
SHAWN:
(opens the door) Uncle Burton, come quick! It's happening!
GUS:
(grabs SHAWN and pulls him back) Shawn, stop it. Stop playing!
SHAWN:
Put your hand to your head. It really helps sell the thing.
GUS:
I'm not doing it, Shawn.
UNCLE BURTON enters the room.
UNCLE BURTON:
This better be worth skipping dinner for.
GUS puts his fingers to his temples in imitation of SHAWN.
SHAWN:
He's a psychic wildebeest.
GUS:
I'm... I'm seeing something. I'm sensing something.
GUS looks over at SHAWN who mimics tasting something while facing away from UNCLE BURTON.
GUS:
I'm tasting something. (gags) It tastes bad. She's a bad cook!
MRS. WAGNER:
(from den) You sound just like my husband.
They go out the door to the den.
INT. WAGNER HOME, DEN, DAY
MRS. WAGNER is standing by the fireplace, a glass of wine in her hand.
SHAWN:
Mrs. Wagner? Oh, please, excuse my partner. His psychic visions are often terribly impolite.
MRS. WAGNER:
No need to apologize. I really am a terrible cook. (sits)
GUS:
(sits across from her) I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm sensing that you're at peace with your husband's passing.
SHAWN sits on the chair next to her. UNCLE BURTON perches on the arm of GUS’ chair.
MRS. WAGNER:
Well, not exactly at peace. But it wasn't easy being married to a food critic. He rated everything I did.
SHAWN:
Surely he couldn't have rated everything.
SHAWN and GUS share a chuckle. MRS. WAGNER nods sadly.
MRS. WAGNER:
I never broke two stars.
SHAWN:
Well, that's awfully harsh.
GUS:
So why did you keep on cooking for him?
MRS. WAGNER:
Health reasons. He had gotten a worrisome checkup from his doctor recently, he ate out every day for his job, and always brought the leftovers home, so I started making him healthy, home-cooked meals just once a week. That's what dinner was tonight.
GUS:
Thank you for your time, Mrs. Wagner. You have our condolences.
GUS and SHAWN stand and walk away from MRS. WAGNER and UNCLE BURTON and towards the living room.
SHAWN:
(sighs) She didn't kill him. If she wanted him dead, she wouldn't have cooked him healthy meals once a week.
GUS:
Great, let's just tell the police, and get Uncle Burton out of here before they ask us anything else.
WAGNER’S body is on a gurney in a body bag. Before the bag is zipped closed, SHAWN notices that WAGNER’S tongue is black.
GUS:
Uncle Burton?
EXT. PSYCH OFFICE, DAY
SHAWN walks towards the office, a paper bag in his hand. He goes inside.
INT. PSYCH OFFICE, DAY
GUS opens the blinds as SHAWN enters.
SHAWN:
All right, check it out. (empties paper bag onto his desk – lollipops) I went to Candy Emporium, this time for research. There are over 100 flavors of lollipop on the market, not one of which turns your tongue black. Can you believe that?
GUS:
What are you talking about?
SHAWN:
Right before we left, I caught a quick glimpse of the critic's mouth. His tongue was coated black. Now, what else could possibly cause something like that?
GUS:
Bismuth subsalicylate.
SHAWN:
That dude that used to play for the Mavericks?
GUS:
No, Shawn, it's the active ingredient in those pink stomach medications. He must've had some. Look, let's talk about this later. My uncle is... (motions towards the outer office)
SHAWN:
Gus. The critic was murdered.
GUS:
I thought you said the wife didn't kill him.
SHAWN:
She didn't. He was complaining of an upset stomach before dinner. He asked for chicken soup. That's the ultimate "I'm feeling sick" meal. Except, of course, for a tub of bacon grease and hotdog water. But usually...
UNCLE BURTON enters the room.
UNCLE BURTON:
Shawn, this place is a sty. Maybe you ought to tidy up once in a while, huh? Or did you forget that you're the assistant?
SHAWN:
You are absolutely right, sir. (looks at GUS) The person who's not the psychic detective should be in charge all the cleaning. It just makes sense. Meanwhile, Gus here has new psychic knowledge about yesterday's case.
UNCLE BURTON:
Yeah?
GUS:
No, I don't, Shawn. I mean, I shouldn't spend so much time working when I've got family in town.
UNCLE BURTON:
Oh, don't be ridiculous, Burton. You think Diagnosis Murder ever let family get in the way of his work? (puts a lollipop in his mouth)
SHAWN:
Another excellent point. I bet Diagnosis Murder never did that. Go ahead, Gus, call up on the spirits. Ask them what happened to the dead critic.
GUS:
Fine. (walks in front of SHAWN’S desk and begins to take deep breaths before starting to chant) Oh, spirits always willing to lend a helping hand.
SHAWN and UNCLE BURTON stand next to each other behind GUS’ back.
UNCLE BURTON:
This psychic stuff can get a little wimpy, huh?
SHAWN:
At least he's not doing it in the tutu and Capezios.
GUS:
(dramatically) I asked you to help me solve the murder of Vince Wagner. Show me what transpired.
GUS spins around to face his uncle and SHAWN. SHAWN has moved behind UNCLE BURTON and begins to mime his theory for GUS. He mimes, eating, typing and stretching
GUS:
I'm seeing something.
SHAWN then mimes an argument and beating someone.
GUS:
I'm seeing... I'm seeing... I don't know what I'm seeing. Wait, wait. It's coming clearer now.
SHAWN pretends to be a waiter, placing a towel over his arm like a cloth.
GUS:
Somebody put something in his food at a restaurant.
SHAWN then mimes being sick to his stomach.
GUS:
And that is what made him sick.
SHAWN then crosses his arms and jerks.
GUS:
Sick to the point of having a seizure.
SHAWN:
(mouths) No!
GUS:
No, no, no. That's what killed...
SHAWN touches the tip of his nose to say GUS had it right.
GUS:
That's what killed his nose.
SHAWN:
(mouths incredulously) Killed his nose?
UNCLE BURTON:
What?
SHAWN crosses his arms, closes his eyes and turns his head.
GUS:
That's what killed him.
SHAWN:
Whoo! Gus, you are so amazing with that stuff. If it wasn't for his psychic talents, I'd have to get some lame job at a pharmaceutical company or something.
GUS:
That happens to be a very exciting industry, Shawn. Now let's go and tell the police our new revelation. Uncle Burton, wait here.
UNCLE BURTON:
No way. If I wanted to sit alone in a dirty room, I'd have stayed at home with my wife. (chuckles) I'm going with you guys. (leaves)
SHAWN:
(whispers) “Killed his nose”?
GUS:
You didn’t… You went like this.
SHAWN:
What’s wrong with you? How do you kill a nose?!
INT. SBPD, HALL, DAY
UNCLE BURTON fills out the forms for a Visitor’s Pass as SHAWN and GUS continue inside.
GUS:
Shawn, that visitor's badge is not gonna hold him up for long. I can't be psychic in front of the cops.
SHAWN:
Don't worry, I have a plan. I'm gonna go in Vick's office. You wait here.
GUS:
For what?
SHAWN:
My signal. The stuff you did in the office, genius, all of it. But I wanted you to say "poison," Gus. Poison. Get it right this time.
GUS:
This time? Shawn, what are you about to...
SHAWN:
(harsh whisper) There's no time to explain! (enters VICK’S office)
INT. SBPD, VICK’S OFFICE, DAY
VICK is sitting at her desk. LASSITER leans against the other open door jamb, arm in a sling. JULIET stands next to him.
SHAWN:
(speaks gibberish) Ham pencils! Sheila E. Tomato bark! Velvety shark toast... Shark toast!
VICK:
Is there something wrong with you, Mr. Spencer?
LASSITER:
You picked today to ask him that question?
SHAWN:
Dude, Lassie, what happened to your arm?
LASSITER:
I don't want to talk about it.
JULIET:
He won't tell us either. And what were you saying when you came in? I couldn't understand any of it.
SHAWN:
Oh, Jules, it's this case. These visions I'm having, they're so intense, I can't even describe them. Every time I open my mouth, the wrong fishes come out!
JULIET:
You mean "words"?
SHAWN:
Isn't that what I said? Oh, no. If only there were someone here that could translate. You know, someone who's known me so long they understand everything I say. Someone just slightly less handsome than I am. (sees GUS peering through the window) Gus! Perfect. This is perfect. Gus, Gus, get in here.
GUS:
(enters) What?
SHAWN:
Oh, mambo beef puddles! (staggers) Swirly-whirly jungle pants! (pants) Quick, translate that into normal words for us.
UNCLE BURTON enters, fingering his Visitor’s Pass.
UNCLE BURTON:
Man, they made me fill this thing out for six pages of paper work, and they didn't put my picture on it.
LASSITER:
Sorry, who are you?
SHAWN:
No one ask any more questions. No one. Concentrate, Gus. Tell us that all this means.
GUS:
Swirly-whirly jungle pants. It means the critic ate something he wasn't supposed to. Two bones and a skull.
JULIET:
Two bones and a skull. Poison!
GUS:
Yes. The critic was poisoned.
UNCLE BURTON:
Man, this is better than Ghost Whisperer.
LASSITER:
Guys, we checked the wife's soup. It's clean. And wait, am I now supposed to believe that Guster here...
SHAWN:
Carnival stud muffin. Huh?
VICK:
What?
GUS:
It wasn't the wife. The critic was poisoned at a restaurant.
SHAWN:
Now, that makes sense. Wagner was pretty harsh on his own wife's cooking. He was probably even harder on the restaurants he reviewed. He could have easily been poisoned by a chef who got a bad review.
UNCLE BURTON:
Mmm-hmm.
VICK:
Do you think so?
TRIO:
Yes!
VICK:
Okay. Call the lab. I want a tox report on my desk ASAP.
LASSITER:
You're actually listening to this?
VICK:
Well, we've gotten information in stranger ways before. Never hurts to check it out.
INT. SBPD, HALL, DAY
UNCLE BURTON, SHAWN and GUS exit VICK’S office.
UNCLE BURTON:
Burton, that was fantastic. How do you do that stuff?
SHAWN:
He can't talk tight now, Uncle Burton. Psychic episodes like that leave him very, very parched.
GUS:
You see…
UNCLE BURTON:
No, no, no, let me get you some water. (goes for water)
SHAWN:
Down those stairs, around the corner.
GUS:
(to UNCLE BURTON) Thank you. (to SHAWN) What do we do now?
SHAWN:
We've gotta figure out what that critic ate. If he was poisoned by a chef, it had to have been something he consumed in the 24 hours leading up to his death.
GUS:
How do we do that?
SHAWN:
Well, Wagner's wife said he brought all of his
leftovers home, right? The refrigerator was packed with take-out containers. The one on top was probably the most recent. The restaurant it came from was... (remembers a label bearing an “A” in flowing calligraphy) The curvy A.
GUS:
"The curvy A"? That doesn't sound like a place that serves food, Shawn.
SHAWN:
It's not the name, it's the symbol on top of the box. Come on, man, you eat out all the time. What place has a big, swoopy, curving A?
GUS:
I don't know. What does it look like?
SHAWN takes a pen from his pocket and commences to draw on GUS’ palm. When done, he holds it up for GUS to see.
GUS:
Antonio's.
SHAWN:
Sweet!
GUS:
Why did you write on my hand?!
SHAWN:
Why would I write on my own hand? This thing is totally permanent. (leaves)
GUS:
Wha... Shawn!
INT. ANTONIO’S, KITCHEN, DAY
SHAWN and GUS enter the busy kitchen from the dining area.
GUS:
Let's make this quick before Uncle Burton starts thinking we’re sticking him with the check.
ANTONIO:
Fire up the entrees for the eight-top.
COOK:
You got it, Chef.
ANTONIO:
Mario, where are my starters? Hurry up!
MARIO:
Almost ready.
SHAWN:
Hey, Chef Antonio. We'd like to ask you a couple questions.
ANTONIO:
(looks up from slicing) Sorry, guys, no customers allowed in the kitchen, okay? Area fresca.
GUS:
No, we're not customers.
SHAWN:
We're from the health department. (flashes a fake badge) Here for a surprise inspection.
ANTONIO:
Again? We just had the surprise inspection a few days ago. Why, is there a problem?
SHAWN:
Yes. You weren't surprised enough.
ANTONIO:
Let's make this quick. (motions as he talks and walks) Walls and the floor are clean. Drainage is clear. Hand washing station is stocked with soap and clean towels. Dry food storage over there, walk-in freezer over here.
ANTONIO opens the freezer door and SHAWN and GUS peer around the door.
GUS:
Looks good.
ANTONIO:
Aren't you supposed to check the temperature?
SHAWN:
Of course. Gus, go ahead, check the temperature.
GUS:
Me? Why do I have to do it?
SHAWN:
Dude, I'm wearing short sleeves.
GUS:
Okay. (pushes SHAWN aside and walks into freezer)
SHAWN:
So did you hear what happened to the food critic down at the Mirror? That's some nasty business, huh?
ANTONIO:
Sure, I heard about Wagner. I don't say I'm sad. Ten years I've been working in this town, that man never gave my food a good review.
They walk away from the freezer and GUS closes it behind him.
SHAWN:
Sounds like you're not very fond of the guy.
ANTONIO:
Vince Wagner made my life miserable with his asinine reviews. Honestly, I am glad that that bastard is dead!
LASSITER:
Chef Antonio!
ANTONIO turns around to see LASSITER and JULIET enter the kitchen with a couple of uniformed police.
LASSITER:
You're under arrest for the murder of Vince Wagner. Take him.
One of the officers takes ANTONIO and ushers him out of the room.
ANTONIO:
Murder? Is this a joke? I... Who put you up to this? Get your hands off…
SHAWN:
Jules, what's going on here?
JULIET:
Tox screen came back positive. Apparently Wagner ate a poisonous mushroom called the "death cap."
SHAWN:
What are you saying?
LASSITER:
There were death caps in the mushroom risotto Wagner ate here the day before he died. We found the leftovers in his fridge.
JULIET:
Looks like you were right, Shawn. Or Gus. Or whoever.
LASSITER and JULIET leave.
GUS:
What a relief. We caught the guy, we solved the case, and best of all, I don't have to be psychic anymore.
SHAWN looks at the counter and sees the mushrooms sliced into strips. He then remembers the mushrooms for the leftovers were cubed.
SHAWN:
Uh-oh.
GUS:
What?
SHAWN:
We got the wrong guy. Man.
SHAWN leaves and GUS follows.
INT. SBPD, BULLPEN, DAY
SHAWN and GUS are trying to convince LASSITER that he arrested the wrong person.
LASSITER:
Guys, it's not that complicated. Whenever a critic eats at his restaurant, Antonio prepares the meal himself.
SHAWN:
Not this time. The mushrooms in the take-out container were cut into cubes. Antonio cuts his mushrooms into strips. Lassie, I have a really strong vibe he didn't do this.
LASSITER:
Look, we know Antonio hated Wagner. Wagner died from eating his risotto. We have the risotto. We even have Wagner's notes proving he ate the risotto. It's a slam dunk.
LASSITER picks up a spray bottle and turns to spritz a plant. SHAWN sees Wagner’s journal on LASSITER’S desk. One of the comments is that the risotto was tepid.
SHAWN:
(whispers) That's Wagner's notebook. It says the risotto was cold.
GUS:
So?
SHAWN:
So... (LASSITER comes back) Whoa! The sandpaper was the banana patch!
GUS:
I think he means the risotto was cold.
SHAWN:
Thank you, Gus.
GUS:
You're welcome.
SHAWN:
Why would food be served cold at a five-star restaurant, unless... Unless the poisoned food was cooked somewhere else?
LASSITER:
You know what I think? Case is closed.
UNCLE BURTON joins them as LASSITER leaves.
UNCLE BURTON:
Hey, guys. I want to thank you for an incredible day, Burton. (shakes GUS’ hand) You're a regular Rockford Files. (laughs and walks towards the exit)
GUS:
(looks at his hand) Did my uncle just thank me for an incredible day?
SHAWN:
A more important question, how much TV does he watch?
GUS:
I'm serious, Shawn. My cousin took him to the Super Bowl on a helicopter, and he never even thanked him for that.
SHAWN:
I'm serious too. He's like this crazy, tank-shaped encyclopedia of detective shows. I bet he even saw Manimal.
GUS:
You're right.
SHAWN:
About Manimal?
GUS:
Shawn, we have to solve this case before he leaves.
SHAWN:
Why?
GUS:
Because, I think I've finally figured out how to get back on his good side. I've been seeking Uncle Burton's approval all my life. He's mean to everybody. But ever since he started tagging along on this case, he's been kind of nice to me. You know why?
SHAWN:
You don't have the braids anymore.
GUS:
He likes detective shows if I could solve this case before he leaves, he may finally get over the whole Gus-Burton thing. But I'm gonna need your help.
SHAWN:
All right, fine, Mr. Psychic Detective. Tell me, since Antonio clearly didn't kill the critic, who did?
GUS:
I don't know. Maybe we should find out if anyone else hated him. See who else may have had a motive.
SHAWN:
Sshh!
GUS:
What?
SHAWN:
You're gonna start a crime-fighting revolution with talk like that. (rolls eyes and walks away)
GUS:
Shawn, you say stuff like that all the time! (follows SHAWN)
INT. SANTA BARBARA MIRROR, NEWSROOM, DAY
SHAWN and GUS speak with the editor.
SHAWN:
Phil Pritikin, Mr. Editor-in-chief. Shawn Spencer. Long-time reader, first-time caller.
PRITKIN walks away followed by his assistant, NICK. SHAWN and GUS go after them.
PRITKIN:
What's going on with the Sunday spread?
NICK:
Layout's waiting for your approval on the mock-up.
SHAWN:
"Mock-up," funny word. Like I was saying...
PRITKIN:
Where' Salazar's alderman story?
NICK:
She's typing it up. Do you want copy to read it first?
PRITKIN:
No, just send it straight here. (stops to sign a form for another employee) Anything else? (continues)
SHAWN:
You know, Phil, now that you mention it, I would very much like...
PRITKIN:
Does he work here?
NICK:
I don't believe so, sir.
PRITKIN:
Son, I'm a busy man. If you don't work for me, I don't have the time. (enters office followed by NICK)
SHAWN:
I just have a question about Vince Wagner.
NICK:
Cooper, these guys got questions. (shuts the door)
SHAWN:
(through the window) Oh, I also have an idea for a crossover strip, where Dilbert finally meets Marmaduke.
Another man, COOPER, comes up behind them.
COOPER:
Did you guys need something?
GUS and SHAWN turn around.
GUS:
Hi, I'm Burton Guster, with the SBPD. We're investigating the murder of Vince Wagner.
COOPER:
I'm Cooper. I was Mr. Wagner's assistant.
GUS:
Great. Maybe you could help us out. Do you know of anyone who may have had a grudge against your boss?
COOPER:
Are you serious?
>>>LATER>>>
COOPER is sitting at his desk and pulls out a large binder labeled “Angry Chef Letters”.
COOPER:
We call them the angry chef letters. Every chef who ever got a bad review would write a nasty letter to Mr. Wagner about it.
GUS:
So you're saying this is all hate mail?
COOPER:
I don't know if I'd call it all hate mail. It ranges from "mild dislike" mail to "extreme abhorrence" mail.
SHAWN:
How about "I wish you were dead" mail?
COOPER:
Oh, we have those too. Back here. (shows another section of the binder)
SHAWN:
Any one of these chefs could have cooked the poison risotto and snuck it into Antonio's restaurant.
GUS:
You're right. We should talk to all these chefs before they open for business. Call the restaurants and make a reservation. For justice.
SHAWN:
Is justice the time or the number of people in our party?
GUS:
Just call 'em. And make it for three. Uncle Burton's coming.
SHAWN:
All right.
INT. SOUTHERN RESTAURANT, KITCHEN, DAY
The CHEF is making jambalaya as SHAWN, GUS and UNCLE BURTON watch.
GUS:
(grabs SHAWN and pulls him back) So what did you think of Vince Wagner?
CHEF 1:
Looky here. He was a jackass. You know what he called my award-winning jambalaya? "Jumba-lousy!" (sets a plate in front of them) Now tell me if this ain't the best damn jambalaya you've never had in your life.
All three pick up a fork and start eating.
INT. CHINESE RESTAURANT, DAY
The CHEF removes the tray as the trio begins to eat.
CHEF 2:
You know what he wrote in his review of my famous miso yellow tail roll? "Miso disappointed."
The three laugh.
CHEF 2:
Don't laugh. It's not funny.
SHAWN:
No, it's not.
INT. BAKERY RESTAURANT, DAY
SHAWN, GUS and UNCLE BURTON devour cake.
CHEF 3:
Let's put it this way. He once referred to my white chocolate tiramisu as "ass cake".
SHAWN:
Oh, now that just seems mean.
INT. SOUTHERN RESTAURANT, KITCHEN, DAY
The three are eating barbecue
CHEF 1:
I didn't kill him. I was here that night cookin'. Had a bunch of big groups. Never even left the kitchen.
UNCLE BURTON:
Mmm-hmm.
SHAWN:
Mmm. Yeah.
INT. CHINESE RESTAURANT, DAY
They have moved on to eating noodles.
CHEF 2:
I was either in the kitchen or out here talking to customers. I own this place. I have to watch over everything. Every bowl, every noodle, every chopstick...
INT. BAKERY RESTAURANT, DAY
SHAWN, GUS and UNCLE BURTON are now eating a different dessert.
CHEF 3:
I didn't kill him. I definitely thought about it a couple of times. I could never figure out why that guy was so angry. He ate out at fancy restaurants all the time for free, and still, all he did was complain.
UNCLE BURTON, with cream on his beard, turns to GUS and whispers to him.
UNCLE BURTON:
Ask her some more questions. Maybe she'll give us some cookies.
GUS points at him in agreement.
INT. SEAFOOD RESTAURANT, DAY
SHAWN, GUS and UNCLE BURTON eating lobster.
CHEF 4:
I'm confused. Why are you here? Wagner never even reviewed my restaurant.
A waiter brings a fresh lobster and SHAWN passes his demolished plate to the CHEF.
SHAWN:
Oh, make it right. There it is.
EXT. SEAFOOD RESTAURANT, DAY
They exit the restaurant. GUS and UNCLE BURTON rub their full stomachs.
SHAWN:
That was, without question, the tastiest dead-end we have ever gone down.
GUS:
Well, at least it wasn't a complete waste of our time. It seems to me like any of these chefs were way too busy to murder the critic.
UNCLE BURTON:
Matlock never ate this good. I'm going back to the car and unbutton my pants. (leaves)
GUS:
You know, I've been thinking about what that dessert chef said. Wagner got to eat out at fancy restaurants every day on the newspaper's dime. If I was him, I'd be happy. I mean, who wouldn't want to have that job?
SHAWN:
That's a good point. That's a really good point, Gus. I think you're right. We were wrong about the chefs. Maybe this wasn't about revenge at all. Maybe this was about somebody wanting the restaurant critic's job.
GUS:
Someone who works at the newspaper.
SHAWN:
Exactly. We need to get down there and talk to the editor.
GUS:
Wait, wait, Shawn, he's not gonna talk to us. He doesn't talk to anybody who doesn't work for him.
SHAWN:
I don't think that will be a problem. (crosses the street)
INT. SANTA BARBARA MIRROR, CONFERENCE ROOM, DAY
PRITKIN is sitting at the head of the table with his editors around the table. SHAWN prepares to work his magic. He notices one woman’s watch is set to a different time from the clock on the wall. One man has a distinctive stain on his shoulder. Another man’s leg pumps up and down nervously. PRITKIN has a mark on his right hand.
SHAWN:
Okay, I think I have something here. (points to PRITKIN) You, sir, are left-handed. You have a new baby at home, you just covered a story somewhere in the Midwest, and you, you just really, really need to pee. Just go.
The man runs from the room.
PRITKIN:
All right, you convinced me. (stands and shakes SHAWN’S hand) Congratulations, you're our new astrological forecaster. Now get out of here. You've got a job to do. You've got a deadline to meet.
INT. SANTA BARBARA MIRROR, NEWSROOM, DAY
SHAWN is sitting at a desk, his feet up, and playing with a Rubik’s Cube. GUS walks over.
SHAWN:
(looks up) Hey, dude. Did you read my horoscopes?
GUS:
Yes. They're terrible. Horoscopes are supposed to be vague, so that people can interpret them to mean whatever they want. Yours are all way too specific.
SHAWN:
I wrote them with specific people in mind.
INT. SBPD, BULLPEN, DAY
JULIET is sitting at her desk reading the paper. She finds the horoscopes and reads out loud.
JULIET:
(to LASSITER) "Aries: calcium is especially important to you right now, Mr. Salt & Pepper hair with a maroon car. There may also be a promotion in your future. Try walking backwards through doorways for good luck." Carlton, are you expecting a promotion?
LASSITER:
No. Come on, O'Hara, don't be so naive. It's a horoscope. It's nonsense.
VICK:
Detective Lassiter, may I have a word?
LASSITER:
Of course.
LASSITER crosses the hall to VICK’S office. He pauses before going in, turning around to look at everyone as he walks into the office backwards.
JULIET:
Let's see, what's mine? “Libra: Your one true love will be wearing sneakers and an Apple Jacks tee shirt.” That's kind of a weird detail.
INT. SANTA BARBARA MIRROR, PRITKIN’S OFFICE, DAY
SHAWN, wearing an Apple Jacks T-shirt enter the office followed by GUS. PRITKIN is sitting at his desk looking over copy.
SHAWN:
Phil, heya. Wondering if I could ask you a couple questions about this restaurant critic job.
PRITKIN:
Great, you too?
SHAWN:
Sorry?
PRITKIN:
Everybody, from the ombudsman to the delivery boy wants to be the new restaurant critic. I know it's the cushiest gig in all of journalism, but I hired you to write horoscopes, and that's what I expect you to do.
SHAWN:
Whoa, Phil, I think you're getting the wrong idea. I just could sense that you're totally swamped. I figured I'd come on in, offer up my soothsayer services... Sayer services?
GUS:
Sooth services.
SHAWN:
Sooth services to help you pick the best candidate for the job.
PRITKIN:
I guess you are pretty sharp. Applications are over there. Keep it quiet though. Every single person who works here is playing some sort of angle to get the restaurant critic job.
As GUS goes to check the applications, the NICK sticks his head in the other door, a bag of Cheetos in his hand.
NICK:
Sir, meeting in five. (PRITKIN checks his watch) You know, these Cheetos are so crispy, yet airy. And its subtle flavor is such a wonderful contrast to its eye-catching color.
PRITKIN:
(stands) I get it! (to SHAWN and GUS as he passes) Every day with the Cheetos. (leaves)
GUS grabs the pile of applications from the shelf
GUS:
Shawn, there is 100 applications in here. That's 100 suspects. My uncle's flight leaves today. We don't have time to talk to 100 people, Shawn.
SHAWN:
We don't need to. We just need to talk to the one guy that can link one of those people to the murder weapon.
GUS:
And who's that?
EXT. MUSHROOM FARM, DAY
MOONEY, a mushroom farmer, sits at a table viewing a mushroom through a magnifying glass before eating it. SHAWN and GUS sit opposite him.
MOONEY:
Mmm. Mmm. Delicious.
GUS:
(whispers to SHAWN) Are you sure about this guy?
SHAWN:
(whispers to GUS) He's the only mushroom farmer in the tri-county area. If anyone can help us, he can. (normal voice) Mr. Mooney, thanks again for taking the time to speak with us. So, how many types of mushrooms do you grow here?
MOONEY:
A couple of hundred, depending on the season.
GUS:
Does that include a mushroom called the "death cap"?
MOONEY:
The death cap? Heck no, man, those things are poisonous. Besides, they only grow in the wild.
SHAWN:
Well, let's say we were looking for the death cap around here. Where would we find it?
MOONEY:
Well, I know a few places in the hills. Why do you ask?
SHAWN:
Why do you ask why do I ask?
They laugh lightly.
MOONEY:
Why do you ask why do I ask why do you ask?
SHAWN:
Why do you ask why do I ask why do you ask why do...
GUS:
Shawn!
SHAWN:
I'm... I'm just curious.
MOONEY:
Yeah, well, a guy came in here a couple of weeks ago, and he had the exact same question.
GUS:
Do you remember this person's name?
MOONEY:
Can't say that I do, but I remember exactly what he looked like.
SHAWN steeples his hands and leans forward.
GUS:
Can you give us a description?
MOONEY:
Yeah, okay, man. The guy was about nine-feet tall, right. He had sunshine coming out of his mouth, and he had a hippopotamus for a hand.
GUS:
I don't think I have any more questions.
SHAWN:
Yep, that'll do it.
They get up.
EXT. PSYCH OFFICE, DAY
SHAWN and GUS walk towards the building from the car. GUS is on his cell.
GUS:
Okay, Uncle Burton, just let me know when you're all packed up, and I'll pick you up and take you to the airport. All right. (ends call) We spent two hours riding up to that mushroom farm, and we're right back to when we started.
SHAWN:
Oh. (opens door)
INT. PSYCH OFFICE, DAY
They walk through to the inner office.
SHAWN:
Don't be such a gloomy you, Gus. Look at the bright side. Now we know the killer is a he.
GUS:
And that he has a hippopotamus for a hand? That helps us out a lot.
HENRY is sitting at SHAWN’S desk, feet up on the desk, newspaper in hand.
SHAWN:
Whoa! Dad, what are you doing here?
HENRY:
(reads) "Sagittarius: Please return the bb gun you confiscated from your son in the second grade. P.S., you are a cranky-pants."
SHAWN:
That's an amazing coincidence. Didn't you confiscate a bb gun from me in the second grade?
HENRY:
(takes his feet down and bends over to lift a box onto the desk) Look, Shawn, here's your stuff. Next time you want something from me, be an adult and ask for it. (stands) Passing yourself off as a psychic, that's bad enough. But horoscopes? Shawn… Shawn! What if some idiot out there reads this crap and decides to take it seriously?
SHAWN:
Dad, it clearly states that astrological forecasts are for entertainment purposes only. Besides, I only took the job for a case.
GUS:
We're investigating the restaurant critic murder. The cops already have a suspect, but we're pretty sure that Chef Antonio was framed.
HENRY:
Then I assume you know all about the veggie burger incident.
SHAWN:
(scoffs) Of course we know about the veggie burger incident, Dad. We're professional detectives. (turns his head) Gus?
GUS:
Googling it. (goes to his desk and starts researching)
HENRY:
Shawn, you know, maybe instead of wasting your time writing this garbage for the newspaper, you might try reading it once in a while. A couple of months ago, vegetarian customers at Antonio's restaurant started complaining about how bland the vegetarian burgers were. In my personal opinion, you eat a burger without beef in it…
BOTH:
…you've lost the right to complain about flavor.
SHAWN:
I've heard that speech before. Just call someone a hippie and get to the point.
HENRY:
The point is Antonio decided to make the burgers tastier by adding beef broth to the recipe. Oh, great, all the complaints stopped, till some crazed vegan lady...
GUS:
By the name of Dwyer?
HENRY:
... found out about it, and started organizing boycotts against Antonio's restaurant. They've been feuding ever since.
SHAWN:
This guy secretly fed beef to vegetarians? Why are we trying to get him out of jail?
GUS:
Because he didn't kill the critic. Take a look at this article, Shawn. (SHAWN walks over) She advocates any action to put Chef Antonio out of business for the veggie burger incident. She calls herself the Vegan Vigilante.
SHAWN:
How very villainous of her. You think she could've framed Antonio for Wagner's death or what?
GUS:
Only one way to find out. Do you know where this Dwyer lady might be?
HENRY:
Sure, I saw her at the drive-thru a couple of days ago.
SHAWN:
That's very helpful, Dad. What makes you think she'll be there today?
EXT. DRIVE-THRU RESTAURANT, DAY
DWYER has chained herself to the signpost. Others picket with signs and chant slogans.
DWYER:
Meat is murder! Stop eating your fellow creatures! All animals have got the right to live! Meat is murder!
SHAWN and GUS watch from the side.
SHAWN:
I hate it when my dad's right.
DWYER:
Stop eating your fellow creatures! All animals have got the right to live.
GUS and SHAWN approach DWYER.
SHAWN:
Yo, Vegan Vigilante lady. How long have you been out here?
DWYER:
Three days.
GUS:
We heard that you had a grudge with Chef Antonio. Were you near his restaurant recently?
DWYER:
Yeah, I led a protest outside of his place on Tuesday night.
GUS:
Tuesday night?
SHAWN:
Excuse us.
SHAWN and GUS walk away from DWYER.
GUS:
That was the same night the critic was poisoned.
SHAWN:
Dude, I think we just found our killer.
GUS:
Nice.
They do a little victory dance.
LASSITER:
Detective Lassiter, SBPD! Who's in charge of this freak fest?
SHAWN and GUS turn around to see LASSITER and JULIET approaching.
JULIET:
Guys, we got your message. Will you please tell us what this has to do with the... case? (sees SHAWN’S shirt) Nice shirt.
SHAWN:
Thanks.
JULIET:
Did you buy that today by any chance?
SHAWN:
This old rag? Nah. I've had this thing for just about forever. Remember when I sent off those cereal box tops to get this thing?
GUS:
You didn't do that.
SHAWN:
Sure I did.
GUS:
No, you didn't.
SHAWN:
It was the same year you got your first Cabbage Patch...
GUS:
(jabs SHAWN in the side) Shut up. I remember.
SHAWN:
Why do you ask, Jules?
JULIET:
No reason.
LASSITER joins them.
LASSITER:
All right, this whack job is in violation of at least six different municipal codes, and she smells like curly fries. I say we cut her loose, take her down. Where's the restaurant manager?
SHAWN:
He's probably inside managing the restaurant.
LASSITER:
Copy that.
They watch as LASSITER walks towards the restaurant entrance.
SHAWN:
Wait for it. Wait for it...
LASSITER pauses at the door and turns around. He sees the others looking at him.
SHAWN:
Is there a problem?
LASSITER:
No, no, I'm just... making sure I'm not being followed. A good cop... (points at his eyes) always aware of his surroundings.
SHAWN mimics the motion. LASSITER enters backwards and we hear crashing.
JULIET:
I better go help him. (leaves)
A taxi arrives and a man steps out. GUS sees him first.
GUS:
(to SHAWN) Uncle Burton.
UNCLE BURTON:
(walks over) Burton, I got here as soon as I could. Who are all these strange people?
GUS:
It's all a part of our investigation. We had to come check out a lead. Thanks for meeting me down here.
UNCLE BURTON:
Oh, no problem. That ride in the cab gave me a chance to fill out this postcard letting everybody in the family know about our psychic detective.
UNCLE BURTON pokes GUS in the chest and laughs. SHAWN pats him on the back.
GUS:
Well, I hope you saved some room on there 'cause I just solved the case.
SHAWN claps.
UNCLE BURTON:
Yeah?
GUS:
A few months ago, Chef Antonio put beef broth in his veggie burgers at his restaurant, infuriating vegetarians all over Santa Barbara. That woman (points dramatically at DWYER) tried to put the chef out of business. But it didn't work. (walks over to DWYER) So instead, she poisoned the critic, and framed Chef Antonio for it.
DWYER:
What are you talking about? I never poisoned anybody. You guys are nuts.
UNCLE BURTON:
Hey, watch the way you talk to my nephew, 'cause he can see right into your soul.
GUS:
You were there on the night it happened, and I'm sure that seeing the chef behind bars must make you pretty happy.
DWYER:
Well, of course it makes me happy. He didn't have respect for the rights of animals. Meat is murder.
GUS:
But murder is also murder, Miss Dwyer!
JULIET arrives on the phone.
JULIET:
We'll be right there. (ends call) Guys, there's been a development in your case. Someone died from eating death caps that were discarded downtown yesterday.
SHAWN:
Yesterday?
UNCLE BURTON:
Yesterday?
SHAWN:
Dude, it couldn't be her. She's been chained to a pole for three days. Plus, we're nowhere near downtown.
GUS:
She still could've done it. She could have easily have slipped out of here and done it when no one was around.
JULIET:
Actually, she couldn't have. We have a rough description of the suspect that threw the mushrooms away. It was a six-foot tall man.
UNCLE BURTON:
(tears up postcard) Psychic. Bogus. (walks off)
INT. SBPD, VICK’S OFFICE, DAY
SHAWN is sitting in front of VICK’S desk as GUS, LASSITER and JULIET stand behind him. SHAWN is holding VICK’S glass dolphin.
VICK:
Our second victim was a homeless man. Ate a bag of death caps he saw being tossed in a dumpster yesterday, then went to the health clinic today after complaining of abdominal pains. He died a few hours ago.
JULIET:
What else do we know about the person who discarded them?
VICK:
Not much. The victim died before he was able to give us an accurate description. And Chef Antonio was in custody, so it looks like he's innocent.
SHAWN looks up at GUS who avoids his gaze.
LASSITER:
Not if he had an accomplice. Now that we've got the chef, his partner's out there trying to dispose of evidence. (looks at JULIET) Let's go down to lockup, talk to that chef.
VICK:
Thanks.
JULIET leaves the office followed by LASSITER. The senior detective turns around.
LASSITER:
See you later.
LASSITER walks out backwards and SHAWN smiles.
GUS:
Where was the dumpster located?
VICK:
(pauses in making her phone call) At the corner of Laguna and Vista.
SHAWN stands and he and GUS walk for the exit. They stop in front of the closed door.
GUS:
Shawn, we were on the right track. Laguna and Vista is across the street from the newspaper. Whoever threw out those mushrooms works at the paper. We have to go back over there.
SHAWN:
(checks watch) Uncle Burton's flight leaves in an hour.
GUS:
I don't care. Do you know what's at stake here, Shawn? My entire future with my family.
SHAWN:
Yeah, that, two unsolved murders, and an innocent man who's still in jail. But your family too. Dude, we still have no idea who the killer is. And it's gonna take longer than an hour to figure that out.
UNCLE BURTON knocks on the glass and points at his watch.
GUS:
Fine, let's go to the stupid airport.
INT. ECHO, DAY
GUS is driving, UNCLE BURTON is in the passenger seat and SHAWN is in the back.
UNCLE BURTON:
(searching his bag) Listen, Burton, maybe you're not all to blame for fouling up this case. I mean, I can't help but think that you'd do better at this detective business if you didn't have Shawn weighing you down. I mean, I don't see what he's bringing to the operation. You're psychic, he's not. What do you need him around for?
SHAWN:
You know, Gus, your uncle has a point.
UNCLE BURTON:
What I'm trying to say is it was Murder, She Wrote, not Murder, They Wrote.
SHAWN:
That's true.
UNCLE BURTON:
Oh, this is great. I left some of my clothes at the hotel. Maybe if somebody hadn't rushed me down to the burger stand, I wouldn't have forgotten to pack my new yellow hippo shirt.
GUS:
You mean your hip shirts?
UNCLE BURTON:
No, I mean my hippo shirt. I bought a couple of 'em down on State Street. You know, normally I don't go for modern fashion, but these hippo shirts, they make my arms look so huge. They've got a nice little hippo logo right on the sleeve, see?
GUS:
Nice.
SHAWN sees the logo and remembers MOONEY’S description.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FLASHBACK
EXT. MUSHROOM FARM, DAY
MOONEY:
He had sunshine coming out of his mouth, and he had a hippopotamus for a hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SHAWN realizes the “sunshine” is the cheese residue from Cheetos and that NICK also favored hippo shirts.
SHAWN:
(leans over GUS’ left shoulder and whispers) Gus, I just figured it out. Who had the best access to the person picking the next restaurant critic? Think about it.
GUS:
Uncle Burton, you might be a little late for your flight.
GUS makes a U-turn.
INT. SANTA BARBARA MIRROR, NEWSROOM, DAY
PRITKIN is making an announcement.
PRITKIN:
So I'm proud to announce that our new restaurant critic will be... my hard-working assistant Nick. (shakes NICK’S hand)
Everyone in the office applauds except COOPER.
NICK:
Thank you so much, sir. I am so surprised. I honestly didn't expect to get this job at all.
GUS:
That's not exactly true, is it?! (walks forward)
SHAWN:
(tries to stop GUS) Whoa, Gus.
GUS:
Don't worry, I got it. (to NICK) You knew that Phil Pritikin would give you this job. That's why you murdered Vince Wagner.
SHAWN:
But, Gus, we…
GUS:
I said I got it.
JULIET and LASSITER enter the room.
JULIET:
Hang on, hang on. You're saying he's the killer?
GUS:
Yes. And I'm going to tell you exactly how he did it. In just a second. (pulls SHAWN aside) You never told me how he did it.
SHAWN:
Why do you think I'm trying to stop you?
GUS:
What are we gonna do? My uncle thinks I'm the psychic, the newspaper thinks you're a psychic, and the cops think I'm just translating your visions.
SHAWN:
Give me a second to think.
GUS:
Hurry up.
SHAWN:
Okay, I have a plan. Blurt out something nonsensical. Do it now.
They walk back to their “audience”.
GUS:
Keylaces! Shoeboards! Pineapples!
SHAWN:
Oh, no. The visions have become too complex for one person to decipher. Gus, might I offer my help?
GUS:
Yes, Shawn, you may.
SHAWN:
(puts hand on GUS’ head) Magic head.
GUS:
(puts a hand on SHAWN’S head, possibly pulling hair) Two heads working together as one.
They both grunt in pain as they apply pressure on each other.
SHAWN:
You! You wanted the most coveted job the paper had to offer, and you were in the good graces of the one guy that could give it to you, but there was a problem. Now, what was that problem? (smacks GUS on the back of the head)
GUS:
The problem was Wagner was never going to retire. So what did you do? (smacks SHAWN harder on the back of the head)
Everyone winces.
SHAWN:
You hatched a plan to force Wagner off the job. The first thing you needed was a fall guy. Unfortunately, Lee Majors wasn't available.
GUS whispers in SHAWN’S ear before crossing his arms.
SHAWN:
Apparently, he was available. He lives here in town. But he was a little out of your price range, so you flipped through Wagner's hate mail, and you discovered that Chef Antonio was the perfect candidate.
SHAWN smack GUS on the hand causing the other to moan.
GUS:
You knew Antonio's signature dish was his wild mushroom risotto, so what did you do? (gives SHAWN Indian burn)
SHAWN:
You tracked down some death cap mushrooms, and baked 'em into a risotto that resembled Antonio's. But you made two mistakes. First, you sliced your mushrooms into cubes instead of strips, and second… (stomps on GUS’ foot)
GUS:
Wagner noticed that his risotto was cold. Why would risotto be served cold in a five-star restaurant? (pushes SHAWN at the back of his knee causing him to buckle)
SHAWN:
Because! Antonio didn't cook it. You snuck it in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FLASHBACK
INT. ANTONIO’S, KITCHEN, DAY
ANTONIO:
We just had a surprise inspection a few days ago.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SHAWN:
A simple call to the county will confirm that there were no real health inspectors at Antonio's restaurant that night. You posed as one. And that gave you the cover you needed to switch out the risotto with your poisoned batch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FLASHBACK
INT. ANTONIO’S, KITCHEN, DAY
We see NICK throw out ANTONIO’S risotto before taking a packaged risotto from his briefcase and place it on a plate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GUS cries out as SHAWN rubs his head hard.
GUS:
Stop! Wagner died, Antonio was arrested, and no one suspected you were the real killer.
NICK:
This... This is preposterous! You can't just walk in here and accuse someone of being a murderer!
GUS:
Well, actually we can.
GUS makes a swing for SHAWN who ducks out of the way. When he stands, he holds his fist out for GUS. They bump.
SHAWN:
Damn right we can. They guy you went to about the mushrooms remembers exactly what you look like. After he toned down the drug-induced exaggerations.
GUS:
Yeah.
SHAWN:
Tall guy! Orange cheese powder around the mouth, and a hippo logo on his sleeve.
NICK:
Al Mooney is insane! Nobody will believe what he says.
JULIET and LASSITER look at each other.
LASSITER:
Hang on a minute. I don't believe anyone said the witness' name. You're under arrest. Cuff him, guys.
The officers move forward.
SHAWN:
(does Robot) Busted.
OFFICER:
Hands behind your back, please.
NICK:
I want to talk to a lawyer.
OFFICER 2:
Yeah, sure, come on. Let’s go.
The officers take NICK away. JULIET walks over to SHAWN and GUS.
JULIET:
Looks like you're finally able to communicate your visions again.
SHAWN:
It feels good to be back, Jules. Matter of fact, I'm having another vision right now. You and me, celebrating over dinner, drinks.
JULIET:
Hmm, sounds like you're still a little off. (walks away)
GUS:
Whew, another case solved.
UNCLE BURTON joins them.
UNCLE BURTON:
Yeah.
GUS:
Now, let just get you to the airport.
UNCLE BURTON:
For what? My flight left five minutes ago.
GUS:
Uh-oh. Are you mad?
UNCLE BURTON:
No. Why would I be mad at you, Gus, huh? (puts his arm around GUS’ shoulder and affectionately rubs his head)
SHAWN smiles and mouths “Gus”. JULIET comes over.
JULIET:
Guys, there's been a bank robbery downtown. Chief Vick's asking for you.
UNCLE BURTON:
A bank robbery. Man, that sounds exciting. You guys don't mind if I tag along, do you?
BOTH:
Well...
UNCLE BURTON:
Of course not. Wait for me. (goes with JULIET)
SHAWN:
Don't worry, I have a plan.
SHAWN and GUS follow UNCLE BURTON.
EXT. PSYCH OFFICE, DAY
SHAWN and GUS are saying goodbye to UNCLE BURTON before he gets into a taxi.
UNCLE BURTON:
Gus, take it easy. And, Shawn, don't forget to vacuum the office every night.
SHAWN:
I'm all over it, Uncle Burton. As a matter of fact, you might just want to check out this little ditty before you go. (gives UNCLE BURTON a clipboard folder)
GUS:
What's that?
SHAWN:
Well, Gus, I learned from your uncle that I need to be a better assistant. So I have taken the liberty to draw up a new employment contract that spells out the duties of the psychic detective's non-psychic associate.
UNCLE BURTON:
Assistant.
SHAWN:
(holds up hand in agreement) Assistant. Things like cleaning, emptying the trash, doing the dishes...
UNCLE BURTON gives the clipboard back to SHAWN who holds it open for GUS to sign.
GUS:
Thank you, Shawn. I'll sign it later.
UNCLE BURTON:
Nah, sign it now before he changes his mind.
SHAWN:
Yeah, Gus, before I change my mind.
GUS:
I'm not signing that, Shawn.
UNCLE BURTON:
And why the hell not?
GUS:
‘Cause. Look, Uncle Burton, I gotta tell you something, and I know you're gonna be disappointed.
UNCLE BURTON:
I know, I know. You're confused because I'm here. You don't know whether to sign it "Burton" or "Gus". Let me tell you, son. Your psychic abilities help solve crimes, it makes the world a better place. Thanks to you, the Burton legacy will live on. So sign that thing any way you want to. You've got my blessing. (shakes GUS’ hand) Is that what you were going to tell me?
GUS:
Pretty much.
UNCLE BURTON:
Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Take it easy, fellas. We'll see ya.
UNCLE BURTON gets in the taxi and waves as it drives off.
SHAWN:
Well, there you have it. (opens clipboard) You can sign it any way you want.
GUS:
I'm not signing that, Shawn.
SHAWN:
Dude, you can sign anything you want. He said. (GUS hits him and walks away) You could sign it "Don Cheadle."
GUS:
I'm not signing.
GUS heads for the office.
SHAWN:
D'brickashaw Fillington. Delroy Lindo! (follows GUS)