Psych: The Movie Page #5

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Lassiter threw me a party

at Buca di Bepo.

I got a condo with

a Japanese bidet

in both bathrooms and a urinal

in the foyer.

Mm. Those were halcyon times.

Then he got fired

for closing up a cadaver

with a chili dog

in the chest cavity.

- Not... true.

Butterfly.

I got fired for opening

the cadaver back up

to retrieve the chili dog

because I took a working lunch.

- Ohh.

- Wow.

- Yup.

- But hey, here we all are.

It's like no time

has passed at all.

Look at you guys.

Look at me.

Editor's note:

I have hemorrhoids.

Thrombosis.

But they make pillows for that.

Far be it for me to rain

on this reunion,

but could you please

shed some light

on the murder of my partner?

- Yes.

I can tell you he was

asphyxiated.

My guess is with a pillow.

We're combing the body for DNA.

At this point, I can say

with 100% certainty...

- Burton Guster?

- What the...

So anyone can come in

to the morgue now.

Cool.

So weird.

What are the odds?

How have you been?

Is that a dead body?

- Yeah.

- Uh, so,

I was hoping to explain myself

from our date last night.

That wasn't a date.

That was an assault.

Do you work here?

Ew, no.

This place is gross.

But I did see

your cute Instagram post,

and I thought I'd pop by.

- You Instagrammed the morgue?

I have followers

to think about, Shawn.

Excuse me.

- Who is this?

That's the girl from

the telescope party.

Oh, I'm so glad that

she's here with us.

- Okay, yeah...

- Shh.

Listen. I'ma be honest

with you, Burton.

I am an ambitious woman with

a lot to do in my life.

I don't have time

to mess around.

I took your business card,

and I did my due diligence.

I checked you out

on Linkedln,

Classmates.com,

BlackPlanet...

- BlackPlanet?

- I got a friend.

The point is, you passed.

- Passed what?

- All of it.

All of it.

I choose you.

I choose you, Burton Guster.

Is there a world in which I

walk you through what I was

doing when you guys got here?

- Please. I'm begging you.

- All right, so...

wait, there...there's something

lodged in the stomach.

She's not great.

- You don't even know me.

- I know all I need to know.

You like the sky, your mother,

safecracking,

a bakery called

Boom Boom Boom Muffins.

That's all

on my business card.

I know when you were

eight years old,

you won a contest for

doing a comic strip

about an Egyptian dog

that became Pharaoh.

You know about

Mesopotamian Pomeranian?

I wish I

would've known you then.

I bet you were a dead ringer

for Bud on "The Cosby Show."

Look, you can't

follow me around,

research me, try to kiss me,

sniff my head, make me

feel uncomfortable...

He's literally done all those

things since Thanksgiving.

He's getting Gussed.

No wonder he doesn't like it.

And yes, maybe your lips

are warm and soft

and taste like caramel,

but those lips are wrapped in

an electric blanket of crazy

set to medium-high,

and it doesn't

give you the right

to invade my private cone.

- Hm. Completely fair.

- Hm.

- I will leave you my resume.

- Your resume?

- Yes...my romantic history,

a few references.

I think you'll see I

check out quite nicely,

save possibly for a brief

dalliance with Lester Holt

and a semi-public rock-out

with Wilmer Valderrama,

but to be completely fair,

it was all under the shirt

but over the bra.

Oh, and I also made you

this fluffernutter sandwich.

Your mother said it

was your favorite.

So, there you have it.

I'm gonna keep this

fluffernutter sandwich,

because I think it's rude

to waste food.

- I will circle back with you

once you've had a chance

to look over my materials.

But in the meantime...

get out!

- What?

You know, like the movie.

Okay, bye.

You know what?

I'm gonna go.

- Oh, well, this is new.

- I know that dongle.

- Let's hope it still works.

Mine does not.

Not always.

You should at least try

that sandwich, yeah?

- Get your own stalker, Shawn.

- Ugh.

It's completely wiped.

- Wait.

There's one file added

after the wipe.

I don't know what

to tell you, Gus.

She took the file; she won't

show me the document.

I'm freaking out.

I mean, what if I'm

sleeping with Nick Nolte

from "Mulholland Falls"?

Well, then you're

really getting

the short end of the stick,

"Mulholland Falls"- wise.

- You know, it's funny.

When people steal from me,

they tend to run

much farther away.

- All right, all right.

Let's all be reasonable here.

He didn't mean

to steal from you.

He was just working a case.

A case?

Who do you work for?

- I can't tell you that.

Oh, boy. Shawn,

tell the man with the knife

who the client is.

- Ohhhh,

I'm afraid I'm gonna have

to invoke, uh,

detective-client privilege.

- Who's the damn client, Shawn?

- I...

it's me.

It's me. I'm the client.

I am looking for

an engagement ring.

It's my ring, and it was stolen

from me while I was proposing.

- Are you kidding me?!

This guy...this guy right here...

he has ruined our business

because he keeps searching

for this damn ring

that he's never gonna find!

Not true, Gus!

May I just...

- I'm telling you, Shawn,

that ring is cursed!

This ring is the opposite

of cursed.

Here it is. And I cannot

get married without it, sir.

- This ring is worthless.

- To you.

Sure. But to me,

it's everything.

- You ever considered that

maybe you're just

using the ring

as an excuse to cover

your fear of change?

Thank you.

That's exactly what...

- This isn't about you.

- Got it.

Please continue.

The ring was

my grandmother's.

Right? It was supposed

to go to my dad,

But they often butted heads.

On the night before

his wedding,

she pulls the ring back.

So he had to scramble,

and he went into debt,

made a bunch of very poor

financial decisions

which ultimately resulted

in a divorce,

because he didn't

have that ring.

It's possible that I'm

editorializing,

but I'm not gonna make

the same mistake.

- Thank you for the answer.

Kill them.

- No, no! You can't kill us!

You can't kill us!

We just bonded!

You and me, like gentlemen.

- Business is business.

Plus, you now know that

my real name is Ted.

Only because

you just told me.

I'm sorry about this,

but no one's going to miss

some lowly private detective.

Time out.

Lowly? No.

I'll have you know I am the

preeminent psychic detective

in this whole alley, Jack.

- Psychic?

- That's right.

Please, take a look.

That's me, with the sweet hair.

This makes no sense.

Why does a psychic

operate in the shop

from "Gremlins"?

To potentially

meet Phoebe Cates.

- Okay.

Read me.

- Read you.

Covfefe.

You like knives.

You like kittens.

You like...

Middle-aged...kittens.

- Mm-hmm. The past.

Anyone can read the past.

- I got the kittens right?

- Tell me the future.

- Look.

Gus, he has own Ta-rote cards.

- Tarot cards.

He just carries them

around with him.

That's not scary at all.

Shall we adjourn

to the Mahjong Room?

The Merle of Haggard.

- Merle of what?

He foretells

of a dangerous situation.

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