Psych (2006–2014): Season 2, Episode 2 - 65 Million Years Off - full transcript

Please don't touch it.

Excuse me.

Gus, Gus, Gus!

Where's your project, Shawn?

- Did you even do it?
- My project?

Of course I did it.

When?

When?

Last night.

It's right here.

This head
is to exact scale.



It took me three months
to make it.

Yours took five minutes.

No, Gus, you're totally wrong.

It took me a whole hour.

Check this out.

I hate you, Shawn.

Lompoc.

Okay, I did it.

That's seven in row.

Eight... the gas station guy
confessed last week!

Oh, I wouldn't
call myself a hero.

I'm just doing my job
just like all of you.

Hey, that's enough
goofing off.

Let's get back
to work, huh?



You too.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Detective Lassiter!

Oh, stop it!

- Jules!
- Shawn.

- Is there a problem?
- With what?

With you. With me.
With the Chief.

She hasn't called
in a month.

Is she still mad about me
requisitioning the Segway?

You did that?

No.

Well, I don't really

have time right now,
but the short answer is

we just haven't really needed
any outside help.

Well, what's the long answer?

I mean,
throw a "but" in there

and add something
about a dream

where you and I got thrown out
of a mattress showroom.

Detective Lassiter
is literally on fire.

What kind of fire
are we talking about?

Michael Jackson
in the Pepsi commercial fire

or misusing the word
"literally" fire?

He's solved eight cases
in a row fire.

Nine... I just rembered
the DeShano case.

Hey, Shawn.
What's new?

You still doing
the psychic thing?

Is this some sort of
weird dream?

On the last two cases,
the first suspect

Lassiter questioned confessed.

It's really magnificent.

We are talking about
Carlton Lassiter, right?

Yea high?

Bats ninth for the department
softball team?

Tenth.
We play with a rover.

Spencer, long time, no see.

Or is that no need?

I can't believe this.

Oh, believe it.
It's real.

They've done a preliminary
on the body down

at the marina, Detective.

They're ready for you
at the scene.

Well, I would love
to stay and chat,

but duty does call.

Oh, Spencer, you look so sad.

Come on, we'll show you
how real cops do it.

No comeback?

Shawn, that's
slightly embarrassing.

Where'd you get that... suit?
The toilet store?

Good luck with this one,
Detective.

There's no identification.

Nobody's been reported missing
fitting this description.

Oh, Mr. Spencer.

I'm surprised
you didn't take the Segway.

She did know about that.

O'Hara just told me.

Traitor.

I'll deal with you later.

So what's the new
case we've got?

A slight error
in grammar there, buddy.

Which part?
"Got. "

I came all the way down
from the office, Shawn.

Gus, don't be
a giant snapping turtle.

We'll have a case
in five minutes.

Nobody can explain
these puncture wounds.

We can't rule out
an animal attack.

No... no, there's nothing
in these waters

with a bite radius that large.

No, this is maybe
a... boating accident.

The wounds caused by
some machinery.

I can't really be sure
at this juncture.

Completely stumped.

You getting something,

Mr. Spencer?

Yes.

Yes, I am.

No, no, no! No, hold on.
Okay, I've got it.

The wound on the head

was caused by the edge
of a boat

when he fell in the water
unconscious.

And the wounds on the back,

they were caused by a large
industrial crab trap.

Or a whale.

It definitely
could've been a whale.

Lost from his pod.

Separated, migrating
north or south.

And sees our man dead,
already floating up

above the surface.

Thinks it's a seal
and then... whale.

A whale?

What's your guy got?

Watch and learn, Jules.

Watch and learn.

Or...
Detective,

if you don't mind,

I'd like to see what
Mr. Spencer has to offer.

All right, look,

this is gonna be
a little rough, okay?

I didn't have time
for shading.

There's no forced perspective.

If I had really
had my druthers,

I would've done it
in charcoal.

You know what
I'm talking about.

Look, what I'm trying
to say is,

I'm not the artist
I'd like to be...

Okay, Mr. Spencer, enough.

Can you or can you not
tell us who's responsible

for this man's death?

If I can present you
with a semi-accurate sketch

of the culprit, is that enough
to get us on this case?

Yes.

All right.

The puncture wounds.

They're the key.

Giving me the impression
that this crime could only

have been committed...
by this guy.

This guy here.

Excuse me.

What?

Chief?

Where are you off to?

So what, that's a no?

Gus!

This is not a boating accident.

# I know you know #

# That I'm not telling
the truth #

# I know you know #

# They just don't have
any proof #

# Where's the deception? #

# Learn how to bend #

# Your worst inhibitions #

# Tend to psych you out
in the end #

You're mad.

No, I'm not mad. I'm happy.

I'm thrilled. I love looking
like an idiot.

Well, that explains
your shoes.

You almost closed down
our agency

with that little act
of yours, Shawn.

Me?

You're the one spending
all your extra time

at your little
"side project. "

You mean my real job?

Soon to be my only job?

Gus, you're panicking.
Don't panic.

Those bite marks are consistent
with a tyrannosaurus bite.

You know that.
Yes, I know that.

The hard way.

I was canned from the Wyoming
Natural History Museum

for that little shot.

The bruises from the teeth
didn't go away for a year,

but totally worth it.

It was my best
screensaver ever.

Gus, please, connecting
a dinosaur to this case

is the least of our worries.

Look, I can I stash
a toy dinosaur

in the window of the killer.

I can link him to a box
of Dino Bites or Fruity Pebbles.

I can play Six Degrees of Dinosaur
with you right now.

You've never been in a movie
with Kevin Bacon

or a Dilaposaurus, have you?

How about you play
Six Degrees of Kiss My Ass?

First of all, that sounds like
a totally disturbing game.

What's weird is that my guess
on the jaw radius

was actually spot on.

It almost seems to make sense.

So now you're getting on board
with your own joke theory?

How are you gonna match
your bite radius

to the victim, Shawn?

Drag the body
to the Wyoming museum?

I can do you one better.

What?

I need to borrow
my dad's truck.

You coming or what?

That's clearly a no.

The one thing we can be sure of is

the cause of death
was not drowning.

Blunt force trauma
to the head was severe enough

to knock him unconscious.

More than likely he fell
from some sort of

a platform after
knocking himself on the head.

And this is how he ended up
in the water?

No, he landed
on something hard.

Dislocated a rib.

He has bruises consistent
with a six, seven,

or eight-foot fall.

My guess is that he landed
on something else

and ultimately expired
before tumbling into the water.

You know, this might be a leap,

but I would check
the offshore oil rigs.

See if any of them
are missing workers.

I'll make some calls.

Interesting, Detective.

Thanks, Chief.

This theory feels good.
Just makes sense.

The work boots, the odd
configuration of the wounds.

You know us, Ted.
It's worth a shot, right?

- We don't go out on limbs too often...
- Thanks, guys.

I just need
to measure something.

Oh, good!

You're all here.
Get ready to be shocked.

Can we get the sheet
off the dead guy, please?

Confirming the bite radius...

No! Mr. Spencer...

Whoa, hey, hey, be careful.
This isn't mine.

Mr. Spencer, your antics
have always been a little...

let's say unorthodox.

But let me be as frank
as I can be

with my assessment
of your most recent behavior.

Seek help.

Chief, sometimes
you have to jump off a cliff.

You have to close your eyes.

You have to unhook
your clip "chasses"...

Chassis?

Climbing thing...

and you have to leap.

Now I ask you, Chief...

will you leap with me?

Are you thinking about
jumping off a cliff?

Maybe.

Dad!

I've brought the keys back.
Hello!

Okay, this is creepy.
Why is Gus here?

Why do you think, Shawn?

He's a hostage.

Perhaps I can shed
some light on that.

Two hostages.

Doug Devette is an old colleague
of mine from the force.

The Chief asked me
to have him drop by.

Why?

Doug is the department
psychologist, Shawn.

What is this, some sort
of intervention?

Yeah, sort of.

We don't like to use the term
"intervention," Shawn.

Gus?

Don't look at me.

I'm here for the cupcakes.

Dad, I am not on drugs.

Oh, nobody thinks that, Shawn.

Well, I'm not completely
sure about that, Doug.

We're all just
a little concerned

that you might be
stretching yourself

a bit too thin.

It wasn't my idea,
but he's right, Shawn.

You're acting like a nut job.

Just because I take
Gus' giant dinosaur

head down to a dead body
does not make me a nut job.

What?

You took my T-Rex?

My mom gave it to you?

Gladly.

She also gave me some pictures
you can pay me to not show

your next girlfriend.

What pictures?

The ones that document
your Terence Trent

D'Arby phase.

Whatever, Shawn.

You took Danny Dino
to the police station?

No, Gus, give me some credit.

I took him to the morgue.

Good news.

Your specifications
were spot on.

Your father tells me you have
delusions of magical powers.

Delusions?
Really.

Doug, I'm employed as a psychic.

I've solved 18 cases this year.

I have business cards
and a personalized coffee mug

that backs up the whole thing.

I feel things about people.

You, for instance,
are color blind.

That's nothing
to be ashamed off.

You're also really stressed
about something.

College.

It can be very expensive, Doug.

Oh, that was good, Henry.

Doug, do not be a stooge.

Not a stooge, but in this
one case, he was right.

Knock at door.

Karen, do you mind?

We're in the middle
of an intervention here.

We don't have time for that.

But you're the one
who asked for this.

And I thank you, Henry,

but I'm afraid
that this can't wait.

We just got a break
in the case.

We just found out
the name of the dead man.

You want to tell him
who he is, Detective?

No.

His name was
Christopher Franzen.

He is a paleontologist.

A dinosaur hunter.

As expected.

Doug...

pleasure was all mine.

Oh, no, Shawn, mine.

We should get together.

All right, here's
what we know so far.

A man, a paleontology professor,
washes ashore with wounds

specific to a dinosaur.

I don't think we can rule out
the possibility of island

somewhere in the Pacific
where dinosaurs do exist.

And have an appetite
for Jeff Goldblum.

I'm being serious, Shawn.

Well, look who's Mr. Onboard
and sounding like

a whacked wombat.

Then what is it?

I don't know.

It actually scares me
that my wild dinosaur reach

landed so close
to the bull's-eye.

This guy was possibly killed
by something dinosaur-related,

but it was probably a model
or something from

the archaeology department.

We'll have to spend
the better part

of the next 24 hours
sifting through

their entire collection
of artifacts.

And by "we" I mean mostly you.

This is all there is?

No. No, no, no.

This is just the big stuff.

We got the trilobites
in a shoebox,

but the shelf is kind of high.

You've got Pinhead, Chatterbox,
Surgeon, and Stitch

up there on a shelf?

Shawn, those are Cenobites.

Well, what are trilobites?

Fish fossils.

Oh, Gus, for my sake,
at least pretend like

you don't know this stuff
off the top of your head.

Do this move.

Trilo... trilobite?

What... it'll help you!

I'm serious.

Look, Ethan, I can honestly say

there were more
historically significant items

in the lost and found at the Taco
John's in Porterville.

Yeah.

Yeah, it's a little sad.

Word is the whole program
is going under.

You sure about that?

Look, Professor Franzen
would never really give us

a straight answer.

In fact, most nights he wasn't
around to give us any answers.

He was a pretty crappy advisor.

And when he did show up,
he was late, tired,

completely disheveled.

Nobody really trusted the guy.

Look, do not ever take
a class from him.

He's dead.

Oh, yeah.

Then totally.

Well, this sure was a dead end.

Yep, but at least we were
the first ones

to find the dead end.

Oh, come on!

He really is on fire.

Literally.

I don't get this.

The cops beat us
to the dead guy's house.

I don't know how I feel
about the police department

being so proactive.

Feeling the heat?

What, do you think I'm afraid
of a little competition?

I know you're afraid
of competion.

Why else would you have
purposefully broken

the Battlezone at Pizza Royale?

Dude, you beat me once.

And only because you first

used the eye piece and then
revealed you had pinkeye.

Let's venture off
the beaten path.

What's wrong?

I'm just trying to figure out
what to do here,

since as a rule we don't
break and enter.

What do you mean
we don't break and enter?

The 2400 Motel.

The Hotel de la Cruz.

The spellmaster's box.

Yeah, but we really
shouldn't pick this lock.

You know I want
to pick that lock.

Yes, I do.

Watch out.

What are you, the lock whisper?

Are you channeling
Michael Jackson?

Who heard the second click?

I heard the second click.

Really?

Come on.

I can't see anything.

Oh, I got it, I got it.

Gus, that thing is
brighter than the sun.

Think you just gave me glaucoma.

You can't give someone
glaucoma.

Thank you.

This is better than the entire
university department.

It sure is.

And his digging equipment
is some heavy duty stuff.

Looks like some shovels
are missing.

Part of a portable light kit.

A lot of brushes.

And fine finishing equipment,
which I would assume

he was only using in the lab.

Dude, I got something.
What?

He was the worst
tic-tac-toe player

in the history of the world.

I'm investigating and you're
analyzing his doodles?

Doodles are the window
to the soul, Gus.

Or maybe that's the epiglottis.

Where's the uvula?

Lassiter's here.

That guy's like five minutes
behind us everywhere we go.

Don't sleep in the nude tonight.

Spencer.

Enjoying your time
riding my behind?

Definitely not in the nude.

This lock looks too high tech
for a backyard shed.

We gotta find somebody
who can crack the code.

There's already someone
here who can do that.

That person... is me.

Well, make yourself useful.

I'll need you
to step back, please.

Give me some room to operate.

Further, please.

Further.

Jules, could you
help me out here?

Just get him back
onto the cobblestone.

That's good, that's good.

Thank you.

I am sensing
the first two digits.

What is it, 31?

Gus, help me out here.

Come on, buddy.

You can have my
Tony Gwynn rookie. 25.

25!

Eight?

Three.

Three!

Four?

Two.

And... two.

There's one more.

Wait!

There's one more.

Nine.

That was amazing.

I'll give you that one.

Can't see a thing in here.

Oh, I've got it.

Wait, I'm sensing a light switch.

Tools are missing.

Good work, Detective.

He had a blunt force
trauma.

That could be supplied
by one of these missing items.

Maybe this rock hammer
or this medium shovel.

But where would they be?

The bed of his pickup.

It wasn't parked out front
or at the university.

We find that truck,
we find the murder weapon.

Let's go, O'Hara.

Burning daylight.

Excuse us.

Man, you missed the truck?

I'm not the psychic.

What?

Why would someone
frequent a fruit stand

that's over 50 miles away?

They like pomegranate?

Yeah, I know him.

He was my best customer.

Don't know his name.

But he comes by
every night before closing.

Did you ever see
which way he went?

Yeah.

Always up the hill.

That's all I see.

Although every once in a while

I see him come back down the hill
early in the morning.

Well, thank you very much.

Gus, you got anything else?

Yes, is that peach pie in the back?

Yeah.

Another dead end.

Let's turn around.

Hold on a second.

This looks like a place
someone's been sneaking into.

What is this?

Looks like some kind of farmland

or grazing plain.

Oh, look at that.

It's like that movie.
The one with Sigourney Weaver.

- Aliens?
- No.

- Alien.
- No.

Alien: Resurrection.

Gus, the one with the holes
and Shia LaBeouf.

They had holes in Shia LaBeouf?

The holes are in the ground,
dude, like that.

And Jon Voight was walking
around all crazy.

Oh,Anaconda.

Yeah, never mind.

Gorillas in the Mist?

- Death and the Maiden?
- No!

Half Moon Street?

Just let it go.

I'll be damned.

What?!

Somebody's shooting at us!

Oh, God! They're shooting!

We're gonna die!

Run, Gus!

Gus, run like the wind!

No... get... get up!

Come on, get in the car!

Hurry up, Shawn!

Start it, start it!

Go, go, go!

Dude, look at the road
while you're driving!

- I'm staying down for safety.
- He was shooting

directly into the air, Gus.

Bullets go up. They have to come down.

Do you know what the trajectory
would have to be for that to happen?

Don't you dare argue physics with me.

Not while we're in the process
of almost being killed.

Didn't you see the
"Trespassers Will Be Shot" sign?

Oh, yeah.

It totally said that.

My bad.

Mr. Spencer, if you have any
substantial information concerning

the Christopher Franzen case,
please get on with it.

I've got something.

It's a cluck.

A cluck?

Actually there's two.

Two clucks.

A cluck-cluck here.

A bawk-bawk... there.

Here a bawk.
There a...

Cluck?

Everywhere a bawk-baaawk.

Let me guess. You have a name.

MacDonald, perhaps?

No. No, it's a farm.

With a farmer. An old farmer.

Farmer... Shooty Pants.

That's a nickname.

- I don't think that's his actual handle.
- I've got it.

Lassiter found
the paleontologist's truck.

- You helped.
- I did help.

It was his hunch.

It was down at the old marina.
I just had a feeling.

I also found the prints of a certain
grad student named Ethan Robinson

along with a stack of letters from said
grad students demanding the professor

stop ruining his life.

We're sending a car over
to pick him up.

Oh, I'm sorry.
Am I interrupting your trance?

I don't buy it.

Which part?

The damning evidence
or the murder weapon?

There's more going on in
this guy's life. Chief, I'm sensing...

digging.

Yeah, the archaeology
department was going under.

He was trying to make a big discovery.

Put him on the map, get more funding.

The farm.

I can see the name of the farm.

It's Wallll...

Wall...

Walker Farms. Yeah, we got that lead
off the phone records... Yesterday.

Apparently our victim made
a series of phone calls

to the farmer trying to buy some
of his land, but it wasn't for sale.

Farmer was forthcoming, cooperative.

Definitely not a suspect.

Anything else?

I have to say,
you have been very through.

We're just doing what
any good cops would do.

- Shawn, what are you doing?
- Yeah, what are we doing, Shawn?

- I need to borrow some tools.
- What kind of tools?

Digging tools. A little excavation
project we got going on.

- Are you still on that dinosaur thing?
- We're still on that dinosaur thing?

What, is there an echo in here?
Yes, we're still on the dinosaur thing.

We step foot on the far end
of this guy Walker's farm in Ojai

and he starts blasting us
with buckshot.

We know our dead guy was there
every night leading up to his death,

digging around the periphery
of this property.

No, Shawn, wait.

I don't want you borrowing my tools.

Oh, Gus will leave
his class ring as collateral.

- No, I won't.
- Yes, you will.

- No, I won't.
- Sure you will.

No, I won't.

I can't support this.

Well, there's a shocker.

You not being supportive.

Would you shut up and listen?

I'm saying I can't support you going
somewhere where you could get shot.

What, are you...
Are you worried about me?

Shawn, I've been worried about you
since you were three years old

and started eating your own toenails.

Well,

Dad, I'll be fine, okay?

We're not gonna go
anywhere near the house.

And if it'll make you feel any better,
I will stand behind Gus the entire time.

- No, you won't.
- Yes, I will.

- No, you won't.
- Oh, yes, I will.

You want to bet?

I don't like it.

It doesn't feel right.

I know feelings.

Pardon me? Did...

Did you just say... "I know feelings"?

Perfect.

This will be easy.

Oh, there's a pattern here.

Those guys dig with a reason.

How do you know that?

Gus, I worked at the museum for almost
an entire weekend before I got canned.

He was the worst tic-tac-toe player
in the history of the world.

Wait a second.

Those weren't tic-tac-toe boards.

Those were all the places he'd dug.

There were like 25 Xs.

No way he scored that often.

The Xs were misses.

In this case, "O" marks the spot.

And that's the "O."

This is the only hole
filled by a bulldozer.

No self-respecting paleontologist
would use a bulldozer.

Why do you know that?

Because, Shawn, if you use a bull...

- Gus, I don't actually want to know.
- Then don't ask.

This shouldn't take long. Grab a shovel.

And keep an eye out for that farmer.

- How you doing on your side?
- Good, solid.

I'm holding up.

- Shawn!
- What?

I'm keeping watch.
That's how the other guy died.

What, you're not concerned?

All right, I get it!

It's my turn.

This is the end of the loose dirt.
Be careful.

This is weird.

What, that there's rocks in the ground?

These aren't rocks.

These are fossils.

But they've been processed,
finished off, residue,

rocks chipped away.

Stuff you would normally do in a lab.

Franzen found something.

Why wouldn't he just take it out

and do the work in the lab
where it should be done?

Unless...

Unless it was too big to move.

Oh, dude, I'm gonna get the leaf blower.

You brought a leaf blower?

You gotta be kidding me.

I just discovered a dinosaur.

Filling that hole was
the worst idea ever.

It had to be done, Gus.

We have to save it for when
we unmask Franzen's killer.

I still don't get it.

He was on the trail of
a fossil graveyard.

It lead him right to Deacon Farms.

Farmer wouldn't let him
dig on the land, so

he takes matters into his
own hands after hours.

But why wouldn't the farmer let him dig?

Maybe he didn't want his farm disturbed.

A dig like that is worth
millions to a land owner.

And the fossils I discovered
weren't even on crop land.

You discovered?

Don't try to take away
my dinosaur discovery, Shawn.

I wouldn't dream of it.

I'm sorry. It was all you.
I'm very proud of you.

Don't you think once
they unearth that thing

there would be a swarm of people
crashing in from all over the world?

Why didn't he just lease the land?

I don't get it.

- I've got an idea.
- What?

Let's ask him.

What?!

We're pretty sure we just found
a cold-blooded murderer,

and you want to go to his house
and ask him about it?

We can ask nicely.
No!

All right, all right.
We come up with a cover story.

We're vacuum salesmen.

No...

Traveling gypsies.

No, no, no!

We'll do Of Mice and Men.

- I'm Lennie.
- No.

"George, you said that I could
take care of those rabbits, George."

Shawn.

"And later on you're gonna
cook those beets. "

Shawn!

"Beets make me go... "

No Lennie.

Gus, you know how long
I've been waiting to pull out my Lennie?

No, Shawn, we do the National
Paleontology Society thing as agreed.

And we keep it very, very simple.

It's not as much fun as
whipping out my Lennie.

And why are we stopping here?

Have you tried these peaches?

You're back.

Yes, sir, we are.

We're addicted to your citrus.

Peaches aren't citrus, Shawn.
They're stone fruit.

- It's the same thing.
- No, not the same thing.

They have pits.
Peaches, cherries, plums, and apricots.

I can't do this with you right now.
Does your fruit come from Walker Farms?

Oh, no. We grow on our own
little parcel of land.

Deacon Walker's farm used to be
a supplier of ours years ago,

but they don't grow nearly
as much as they used to.

Thank you so much for your information.

If you have a moment, my friend and I
would like to buy every peach on that truck.

Including the one you're eating.

You sure you don't want
to do Of Mice And Men?

You so much as slur one word,
I'll give you an Indian burn so hot

your socks will catch fire.

"Indian burn. "

I haven't been threatened
with that this millennium.

Take a shot if your ulna feels safe.

I don't think the ulna's in the forearm.

Trust me, it is.

- How can you Indian burn a bone?
- Stop analyzing my threat.

- Get it right.
- I got it right.

- Deacon Walker?
- Sullivan Walker.

Is Deacon Walker home?

There is no Deacon Walker.

That's confusing.

I've got nothing.
Gus?

Then why name the farm
Deacon Walker Farms?

Because it used to be called
Deacon Walker.

Roger Deacon was my partner.

He's not anymore.

That cleans it up nicely.

- Maybe we come in?
- No.

What do you want?

We're from the National
Paleontological Society...

Not interested.

Clearly he's not interested.

We would like to make you

a very sizeable offer
on a very small portion of your...

Hello, my name is Lennie.

I like to...

You think he'd open up
if we knocked again?

I'm glad it only took us
an hour to get up here.

Not like I wasted a whole day.

Franzen dug up here too?

No, he didn't.

These are all new and
dug with a bulldozer.

A real paleontologist...

would never use such an indelicate tool.
I got it.

- So our farmer's been digging too.
- Right.

But if the gold mine's out there,
why is he digging over here?

It's my dad.

Think he wants his leaf blower back?

Shawn?

Shawn, you're not anywhere
near that farmhouse, are you?

Dad, how dare you? Of course not.

Good.
Stay away, Shawn.

I know where I rember that farm.

Deacon Walker Farm.
I was up there about 20 years ago.

A girl reported that
her boyfriend went missing.

Roger Deacon.

He was a partner in the farm.

He was never found, Shawn.

Never found?

That's right, the farmer claimed he
went back to England or some nonsense.

The point is, we never found out
where he went.

I think I might know where he is.

Where?

- I might be looking at him.
- Shawn!

Gotta go.

Shawn!
God...

- Dude.
- What?

It now appears a lot of our
evidence is circumstantial.

We're checking the grad
student's alibi, but...

I'm not as confident
as I like to be.

- Shawn Spencer's on line one.
- What does he want?

He wants us to go meet him
in the Ojai Valley somewhere.

We're in the middle
of the Franzen case.

I told him that.

He guarantees that in ten minutes
he can solve the case,

nab the killer, close an additional
unsolved murder, and...

And what?

Unearth a dinosaur.

Well... I'm curious.

This is as far as my property goes.
That's all there is.

Well, I've answered
all your questions, Detective.

What more do you want from me?

- I'm not entirely sure, sir.
- We just have one more person

we need you to talk to.

Lennie?

Lennie?

Don't even ask.

My name is not Lennie, Mr. Walker.

But if it were,

- I would've been amazing.
- No, you wouldn't have.

Would've brought tears, Gus.

Guys, the point?

The truth is...

I'm a psychic.

I work for the SBPD.

And the mystic vibrations

of the sea have brought me here

to solve not one,
but two murders.

You're a what?

Christopher Franzen was
a persistent annoyance, huh?

He couldn't help it.

His department was going under.

He was desperate to find
something significant

to save his career.

And he knew that your property
held the key.

But you wouldn't let him dig.

You couldn't let him dig.

So he did what any
self-respecting paleontologist

on the verge of a nervous
breakdown would do.

He dug anyway.

Secretly.

Under the blanket of night.

And into the early morning.

And he dug, and he dug,
and he found something.

And that's when you found him.
You knew the magnitude

of the find.

Once word got out,
you'd never be able to keep

the rest of the world
from digging here too.

And you couldn't have
the rest of the world

digging here either,
could you?

Shawn!

Dad?

What are you doing here?

I was worried.

About my tools.

What?

If I had known you were
finally smart enough

to bring some backup,
I wouldn't have had

to come up here, Shawn.

Shawn, will you tell them
why Walker wouldn't let him dig?

Roger Deacon.

Deacon is buried
on the property!

Dad!

Dad, you just blew
the big reveal.

You already mentioned
his name, Shawn.

No, Deacon
was the partner

Walker killed 20 years ago.

- Hey, now wait a minute here...
- He what now?

Yeah, he killed Deacon
and he buried him

somewhere on the farm
and he can't rember where.

Isn't that right,
Farmer Shooty Pants?

I don't have to stand here
and take this.

No, actually you do.

What does this have to do
with Christopher Franzen?

He killed Franzen when he caught
him standing above his

dinosaur skull discovery,
sending him flying right into

the teeth of the dinosaur.

But he couldn't bury him here.

No, no, no,
he had called the farm.

He had snooped around the farm.

There was a trail to the farm.

No, he had to dump him somewhere
where there'd be no forensics.

Like the ocean.

Just let the salt water clean
the corpse and wash it ashore.

And the murder scene.

Well, he hopped on
his handy bulldozer

and filled the hole.

I'm getting a bad feeling
about your streak.

You too, huh?

I think I need a lawyer.

I think you're right.

Put your hands
behind your back.

- What?
- You heard me.

You still haven't answered
the question

why he dug all the holes
around the house, Shawn.

Dad, that's the finale.

That's why I don't invite you
to these things.

He was looking
for Deacon's body.

Whatever.

Are we done here, Mr. Spencer?

No, we're not done.

For my final demonstration...

I will now...
discover a dinosaur.

Shawn!

Actually... Gus will discover
a dinosaur.

Wait a second.

You just want me
to dig this hole.

I do not.

I'm not falling
for that, Shawny boy.

You dig it.

I'll take credit
for the discovery.

Oh, no, you won't.
Give me that shovel.

It's too late.

You blew it.
What?!

And whoever discovers it
gets to name it.

I'm naming him Zippy.

Or Chompy.

Zippy the Dinosaur,
discovered by psychic

paleo-sleuth Shawn Spencer!

Give me this shovel,
Shawn!

Killed by a dinosaur.

And he's right.

It was an actual dinosaur.

Technically, it's the fall

that killed him.

Not helping.

Who am I kidding?
I am doomed.

I am never gonna suspect
an extinct creature.

How can I compete with that?

You don't have to compete.

O'Hara, I am physically incapable
of pointing the finger

at a dragon or a leprechaun
or the Loch Ness Monster.

I quit. I'm gonna donate
my badge to charity.

It was a good run, Carlton.
All streaks have to end.

Lou Boudreau fielded
the ball cleanly.

You have to let it go.

Who the hell is Lou Boudreau?

He recorded the out that ended
DiMaggio's hit streak.

Don't you watch baseball?

Of course I watch baseball.

I just don't know meaningless

- facts from 75 years ago.
- 66.

You disturb me.

Do you need a hug?

Oh, what do I look like?

Yeah, I'll take the hug.

Okay, thanks.
Okay.

Oh, come on, you guys.

We're still doing
this intervention thing?

Yes, yes, Shawn,
we are.

Son, you have no sense
of responsibility.

And lately you've been
purposefully putting yourself

in a severe amount
of unnecessary danger.

On top of which, you are
constantly belittling

the good work of...
Actually, Henry,

I stretched the truth a bit.

This isn't about Shawn.

- This is about you.
- What?

Can we talk about your obsessive
need for control?

You come into my house,
Devette.

You lie to me?!

Let's try to be rational.

Did you really drive all the
way up to Ojai just to crash

Shawn's crowning moment?

Get out.

Henry, we're here for you.

- At least listen.
- Out now.

Get out!

Out!

I'd like to start.

When I was about seven, he...

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