Psych: The Movie Page #6

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It involves both a curb

and a bus.

I see a tax issue.

- I don't pay taxes.

- That's the issue.

Sorry.

Forgive me.

You must lay off the salt.

- Salt?

- Salt.

- Salt.

- Salt.

Gus...

- Okay. All right.

So you're not

gonna cleave us?

- We'll see, won't we?

- Uh...

how we doing, babe?

- Shawn, I owe you an apology.

I know I have been

acting strange

and icing you out,

but the truth is,

I'm scared, and I

need your help.

- You had us at Shawn.

I used all of the cases

referenced in this manifesto

to create this board.

It is every suspect

that went away

for every crime mentioned.

So these are the victims

of your supposed crimes?

Yes. Now, I know,

what you're thinking.

And here's the thing.

It's true.

Look, every single one

of these dirtbags

is guilty as sin.

But I have done some things

that I am not necessarily

proud of.

- I've to pee since 2:00.

- Gus, it's 2:
05.

- It doesn't matter, Shawn.

It does matter.

We stopped specifically

on the way here so that

you could go pee.

- There was someone in there.

- There were 12 stalls.

- I don't care.

When are you gonna get

a handle on this

bashful black bladder thing?

You know what?

Do you, Shawn.

- I...

I fudged the rules.

I skipped some protocols to put

these dirtbags away, Shawn.

And now I feel like Sam's blood

is on my hands,

and I have no one to blame

but myself.

- Hey, hey, hey.

I love these hands.

Especially the right one,

because that's the one

I generally hold.

- I...

I like to walk on the left.

You do like to walk

on the left.

You're a leftie walker.

They call that southfoot.

- I'm a southfoot.

- You're a southfoot.

Look, you have watched me

lie and cheat and steal

for the better part of what,

a decade?

All in the name

of catching bad guys.

You didn't do anything

illegal, am I right?

Then let's figure out who

the hell is doing this to you,

and put 'em away.

This is work time.

Okay.

All of these criminals

had a beef...

a technicality they

hoped would get them off.

The problem is that

none of them

should feel more slighted

than the other.

It's impossible to know

who is Sam's killer.

- 'Cause it's none of them.

It's none of the perps.

It's your snitch.

- Billy McGoldrick?

He gave information

on all of them.

- What's his beef?

- I still sent him to jail.

- Well, obviously he's out.

And he's the one who's

been following you.

Surveillance photos?

They're spying on her.

- Jules...

your house keys

were in your hand.

That picture was taken

from here, Gus.

Wait.

Ah, no, actually, the picture

was taken from ac...

- I'll be damned.

- That's him!

Freeze!

You betrayed me

and ruined my life!

You were a snitch

and a criminal!

Of course she sold you out!

- Guys...

- And you killed Sam,

you son of a b*tch!

- Yeah!

- Oh...oh, come on.

Sammy's not even d...

oh, bloody hell, he is dead.

Well, look, I wish

I'd killed him!

But that honor went to

my beautiful new associate...

- Heather Rockrear.

- Heather Rockrear?

What? That's what

we're calling her.

And the brother's the Black

Gentleman Dandy.

That's correct, Gus.

And you're the Thin White Duke!

- You're spot on.

- Eh, well...

- What?

Look, man, I hate

to break it to you.

You don't sound anything

like David Bowie.

- No.

- Well, hang on.

Nobody sounds like David Bowie

but David Bowie, full stop.

Well, I think Jemaine Clement

has a pretty good Bowie.

- Yup.

- Look, psychic boy

and Magic Head,

Juliet, I would love to kill

all three of you

right now, but unfortunately,

I've already promised I won't

do that yet.

And unlike you,

I keep my promises.

Promises?

What are you talking about?

Oh, come on, Jack.

Let's not ruin the ending.

- Hey!

I'll be doing all the

jack-tagging around here,

okay, Jack?

- Drop the gun!

Nice, babe.

That's nice. That's clean.

I have just one thing

to say...

always have a plan B.

Ha!

That couldn't have been

what you were going for.

You check the batteries

in the remote?

Bloody hell.

Uh, the plan was,

I was gonna do a flippy-do

into here,

hit the button,

massive metal door

just like, sha-kunks down.

You know, like in

"Empire Strikes Back."

Now it's busted, and I'm

really embarrassed.

You have the right

to remain silent.

- Yahtzee!

- Wait!

Damn it, we walked

right into that.

It was kinda dope, though.

- Let's go.

- Yeah.

Lord, I'm gonna pay

a steep price

for what I'm about

to do to my body.

Hey, Gus, come check out

this douchebag in the hat.

- Shawn!

- Oh, my God.

My dad's having a full-on

seven-eighths life crisis.

Dad, I specifically told you

to dress for dinner,

not Adam Levine's funeral.

- I'm allowed to evolve, Shawn.

- Is that scarf tweed?

- I'll be honest, Pop.

I have been actively shopping

for a walk-in tub

and something called a Rascal

for you for Christmas.

There is no way that you think

this outfit is appropriate.

Shawn, exactly how old

do you think I am?

- I know it starts with one.

- Yep, it's definitely tweed.

- Why do you own a ukulele?

Would you please stay out

of my stuff,

and if you must know,

I recently learned "The Remedy"

from Oliver and Angus.

- Oliver and Angus?

Yes, they work at FOMO

next to my loft building.

- Did you hear that, Gus?

Oliver and Angus work at FOMO.

What...I saw you

five months ago.

What happened?

- I bought my retirement loft

with an unobstructed view

of my boat.

I did not plan that the area

would gentrify

as quickly as it did,

but rather than getting all

Scroogey about it,

I stayed fluid.

Show me your belly button

and prove you're my father.

- Man, some of us are eating.

- Hey, Juliet.

- Henry.

What a surprise.

- Um...

- Hey.

If somebody makes my

future daughter-in-law

a target, you can bet your ass

I'm not staying home

for Christmas,

plus there's a drum circle

down at Union Square

that I'm already

kinda committed to.

- Is this a cricket bat?

- You should've stayed home.

Whatever this psycho

McGoldrick is up to,

he wants me, not you...

any of you.

McGoldrick? The ginger

who works at the baths

down at the Funkzone,

he's behind all this?

No, Dad.

Not that McGoldrick.

This one's one of Juliet's

snitches.

Said he promised someone else

he wasn't gonna kill her,

so the question's who and why.

Puts us back

to square one.

Countless perps

with axes to grind.

Yeah, but he knows

who we are too.

That rapscallion

called me Magic Head.

Well, he picked on

the wrong family.

Shawn, that would be

your cue.

- Yeah, I know my cue, Pop.

This isn't 2010, okay?

I can read my own

girlfriend.

I know when she needs to be

comforted, et cetera.

- Fianc.

- That's what I said.

- No. You said girlfriend.

- It's semantics.

- It's not semantics, Shawn.

- Y...

you ate all the Quatro

Quesos Dos Fritos?!

- Yes, and now I pray for dawn.

- It's my problem, Shawn.

Sweetheart, you keep

saying that; it's ridiculous.

Since when is a psychopath

trying to kill you

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