Psych (2006–2014): Season 4, Episode 7 - High Top Fade Out - full transcript

A member of Gus's college singing group is murdered, and while the other surviving members are no longer on speaking terms with Gus, they hire Shawn anyway to investigate the crime, after the police classify the death as accidental.

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---
Dad, can I please
get a home computer?

Mrs. Phillips said it would help
prepare me for the future.

Get your head out of the clouds.
Those things are another passing fad

like rap music, Madonna,
and L.A. Law. Here.

Why don't you focus on something
that might make you some money one day.

All right?

I didn't see anything.
I swear.

Please...

don't shoot me.

Don't worry.

We're not gonna shoot you.



How do you not have a black suit?
What grown man doesn't own a black suit?

Besides me, the joker, colonel Sanders,
Matthew McConaughey?

He doesn't count.
He doesn't own a shirt.

- He doesn't need a shirt.
- You know that's right.

Sit down.

- So that's them, huh?
- Yes, unfortunately.

Come on, man, it's been ten years.
Can't you guys just hug it out?

And for the last time, I'm here
to say one final good-bye to Leonard.

He was a good friend.
And then that's it... we're out.

Thanks for coming.

Dearly beloved,

we gather here today not to...

mourn a death,

but to celebrate...



a life.

Can I give an amen
if the preacher guy asks for it?

Of course.
But wait for it.

Leonard Callahan, or "Diddle", as he was
known to those closest to him...

- Diddle?
- We all had nicknames, Shawn.

... was tragically taken from us

by a hit-and-run driver.

But we know...

Diddle is in a better place now.

Diddle is in a better place now.

- Can I get an amen?
- Amen!

And he continues to live

- in our hearts.
- Hallelujah!

- Sit down!
- Got caught up in the moment.

- I was in the moment.
- And now, in light of his...

home-going service,

Leonard's former bandmates
from college

would like to dedicate a special song
to his memory.

He was in a band.
That's cool.

- What are you doing?
- To pay my respects. Be quiet.

Get back here!

I can't believe you've been
holding out on me for all these years.

It's one of my lifelong dreams
to be part of a 4-piece singing group.

Five-piece was my backup.

Now I find out not only were you in one,
you let it all slip away...

- I must know why, I must!
- Enough, Shawn.

That was like a new edition
reunion concert minus Bobby and Ronnie.

What could have come between men
capable of creating such sweet harmony?

Gimme a hint.

You can give me a baby hint.

All right, fine.

I wish I could have known you
when you were black.

You're the psychic.

Yes. Uh, Shawn Spencer.

I'm Tony.

This is Joon.

We read about yours and Gus's detective
agency in our alumni newsletter.

Look, I gotta tell you guys,
you sounded amazing up there.

- I do a little singing myself.
- Yeah, thanks.

Diddle was the heart and soul
of our group.

The day he was taken from us
was the day the music died.

I just keep thinking
he can't be dead... He can't be!

And then I look at that casket
and I'm like...

That's gotta be Diddle in there.

Because why would they put his picture
on another dude's coffin?

And that's when I lose it!

So... tragic.

Look, man...

We don't think that Diddle
died in any bicycle accident.

I mean, he was the only brother I knew
who rode a bicycle as a grown man.

We think he was murdered.

- Have you notified the police?
- What if they did it?

Normally...
We wouldn't even associate ourselves

with somebody who would partner up
with a buster like Gus.

- Buster!
- But I checked out that newsletter,

and it seem like you are pretty good

at solving stuff
without a lot of evidence.

- The less evidence, the better.
- Good.

'Cause Diddle doesn't deserve
to go out like that.

Not him.

I mean, the man was barely 5'10"
and could dunk with two hands!

- There I go again.
- It's okay, it's all right.

Can we hire you?

You know, man, I think
that might be a little complicated.

Then again...

What are best friends of mysteriously
estranged old college pals for?

Psych 407
"High Top Fade Out"

G-whiz.

- Joon.
- Sweet!

Now that that's out of the way, let's go
ahead and bring Gus up to speed.

Fine.

It all started
when we got this weird email

from Diddle on the day that he died.

- "It's so hard to say good-bye."
- There's a huge file attached to it.

It's not like any file
I've ever seen.

And it's heavily encrypted.
It can't be opened.

We can't figure out
what the message means,

but it has something
to do with him dying.

You're listed as a recipient here.
Do you remember getting this email?

I got it, and I immediately proceeded
to place it into the trash bin.

That's cold, B.

Yo, that's like Beyonce
and the first destiny's child cold.

Me and Diddles' relationship
was rock solid.

We never lost contact.

But he would send us these emails
about getting the group back together,

which involve reconciling
with these jokers,

- and that was not gonna happen.
- Not happenin'.

Not even if Jesus was our manager.

You're not serious about that.

- No, I ain't serious. I was... playin'.
- All right.

Then it's settled.
There'll be no reunion

unless Jesus agrees
to manage the group.

That's fine by me.

If Jesus

was our manager

he would bring us

all together

We aren't gonna sing
our problems away.

Look, you guys,

whatever happened between you,
it happened a long time ago.

You've clearly suffered a great loss.
Look at the bright side.

You've the opportunity
to make Diddles' wish come true.

Yeah, but look at the dark side. Being
together makes a bad situation worse.

Look on the dark side?
Who talks like that?

The most negative dude I know.

Okay, guys, let's just...
Let's get the email up

and we'll see what's what.

Call me negative.
He's been doing that all these years.

- I read the purpose driven life!
- Man, transformation equals change.

- It's encrypted, all right.
- Well, de-cryptify it.

You can't just un-encrypt something.

You need a data key,
a pass code, a complex algorithm.

Whatever this file is,
he went out of his way to protect it.

- Diddle worked for Cybervault.
- I know.

- Diddle worked for Cybervault.
- This dude...

Companies hire them to protect
and encrypt data sent over networks.

So they can or cannot lift
the parental lock on my laptop?

That was me.
It was for your own good.

They protect
credit card transactions,

trade secrets,
classified government documents.

Those guys are running
some big brother-type stuff over there.

We think Diddle maybe stumbled across
some secret information

somebody was trying
to get their hands on.

Now you feel where we're comin' from.
How'bout you, Gus?

Oh, man. He's not even hearing it,
much less feelin' it.

It's clear to the 3 of us that you're
neither hearing it nor feeling it.

What I can't discern is
are you mad at it?

All right.

We need to retrace
Diddles' final steps.

Diddles' time of death was pegged
right after he sent the email.

- So he had just left the apartment.
- Brilliant! We'll start there.

We're helping the family collect
his things so we can gain full access.

No, he didn't keep these.

What?

Let me see, let me see.

- Mine still fits!
- Mine does too.

Like yesterday.
Let's do the steps.

All right.

Mine smells like mothballs.

- Yeah, mine smells like mold.
- Like my grandmama feet.

- You think I could have Diddles'?
- No. Let's get back to work.

Let me ask you something.
Was he always this safety-conscious?

Once in college, he left his seatbelt
on during a drive-in movie.

He's not the guy that would go cycling
without his protective cycling gear.

Good point.

Check that out.

Who uses a power strip for one plug?

I'm sensing that some
of Diddles' computer equipment

has been stolen and that there is more
going on here than meets the eye.

Hi, Jules.
Hi, old penguin from Happy feet.

- What do you got?
- I'm so sorry to hear

that Leonard is a friend of yours, Gus,
but we looked at it again,

and we agree
with the initial assessment.

Even though it was a grisly accident,
it is a straightforward hit and run.

That's it?
Can we look into it?

I'm afraid not. City's cutting down
on wasteful spending.

That includes
all non-essential expenditures.

And we already have a team on that,
so no need for a psychic consultation.

Anything else?

Did Lassiter throw his voice
into your mouth?

Because that's really unsanitary.

That's nice work.

Shoo, flies.

If I could just get a psychic reading
on the autopsy report...

Gosh, I'm sorry, see that would
require one meeting with the new coroner

which requires an official police detail
which one does not have because...

one is not welcome here.

Shoo.

And we're shooing.

We're shooing.
We're shooing.

Auf wiedersehen.

Sweet.

You heard Lassiter.
We need a police detail.

Don't be the American adaptation
of the British Gus.

- I'm not impersonating a coroner.
- Fine. You're on your own then.

It's the one without any teeth.

Tell me what to do!
My knees and calves are locking up!

- You must be out of your damn mind!
- Do it for Diddle.

- I get claustrophobic.
- You're a cadaver.

Cover you because cadavers don't wear
shirts from Abercrombie and fletch.

It's Abercrombie and Fitch.
And, no, you haven't heard it both ways!

- Hey there.
- Hi.

- You must be the new coroner.
- I just transferred over.

But don't worry, I've been playing
with dead things since I was a toddler.

I'm Shawn Spencer.

This dead body here
is detective Miles.

- Another one of the good guys, huh?
- No, sir. His first name is detective.

Of course. Well, leave him right there
while I prepare a toe tag.

You got it.

You know, an emt buddy of mine
said he brought in

a hit and run victim the other day.
Nasty stuff, huh?

I worked that specimen.
It was pretty bad

but consistent
with an automobile/cycling collision...

Multiple cranial fractures,
crushed larynx,

fractured hyoid bone,
contusions this,

blunt force trauma that.

Stupid government pens.
I'll be right back.

A crushed larynx and broken hyoid could
also be consistent with asphyxiation.

- Did you say a token hemorrhoid?
- I said broken hyoid...

Yeah, you know what?
That's pretty much what he said.

Then he went on
to say something pretty crazy.

That the crushed larynx and hyoid

could have meant
that he was asphyxiated.

Asphyxiation?

- That wouldn't make any sense.
- That's what I said.

Unless this crash...

was postmortem.

That was my Caruso.

Not bad, right?

Oh, man!

I'm gonna need another release form.

I filled this out in farsi
by mistake.

I've been using the rosetta stone
to learn new languages in my down time.

That computer software
really works, huh?

Wait a second.

There's software called
the rosetta stone too?

- You got me! Touche!
- Revenge!

I've got some more release forms
in the back, you boob!

Dude, did you hear that?

He said someone could have
used the accident

to cover up the way that Diddle died.
They were right. This was murder!

Is the guy still here?

He's in the back.
I really didn't mind him though.

Yeah. He's a real character.
Can we get outta here?

Poor Diddle. They probably threatened
to torture him first

then tortured him second.

Then they threatened to kill him third.
Then they killed him fourth.

Stop making up conspiracy theories.
You don't know if they tortured him.

I do know,
because that's what they do.

- Who is "they"?
- "Them".

He should've just played dead.
I always say

that's what I would do if somebody
was trying to kill me... Just play dead.

I mean, they'd be like...
"we're gonna kill you!"

And then I'd be like... dead.

Then they'd be like, "He's dead.
Let's go kill somebody else."

- And then they would leave.
- Guys, I'm afraid I have more bad news.

Whoever they are, they might know

that Diddle emailed
the 3 of you the file.

You guys could be
in some serious danger.

- I didn't get any email.
- What?

- We all got the email.
- Y'all got it... I didn't.

You can't pretend
you're not a part of this.

- I don't even have a computer.
- You do too!

- I didn't get the email either then.
- You would even sell out each other.

Don't talk to me, crazy.
I didn't get it.

Let's get outta here.

My mama bought me that car!

I'm not with you!

- Okay, here's the deal.
- Now do you believe there's a case?

We need to see if the bomb squad
has any evidence we can trace

- like residue, fragments, detonators...
- Slow down.

Nobody said anything
about you being put on this case.

It's not that simple anymore.
We're under direct orders from Vick.

Now, clearly, something's going on,

but the top brass has instituted
a whole new layer of protocol.

The first thing we need to do is run
full background checks on your pals,

make sure all
doesn't start with them.

- You are kidding, right?
- No, I'm not, Guster.

Your attitude confirms that this case
presents a conflict of interest for you,

which is precisely
why you won't be getting involved.

- What do we do in the meantime?
- Just sit tight.

And take the bus.

What?

Too soon?

All right, Jules,

I'm now entering
our cone of confidentiality.

Get to the point.
I'm really busy.

Let's be honest with each other.

This is you paying me back
for the awkwardness

and tension that I've allowed Abigail
to cause between us.

Contrary to what you may think, Shawn,
it isn't always about you.

When I open an investigation,
I have to answer to people in authority

above me.

I understand.

Especially if,
by contrary to what I believe,

it isn't always about me,
and when you open an investigation

you have to answer to people
in authority above you, you mean

it's because of Abigail.

I'm supposed to giggle, because
your charm is just too irresistible?

Almost.

I was gonna bring it home
doing both sides of the conversation

using my high-pitched
eighth grade Jules voice.

I'm sure
that your girlfriend appreciates

you using her as a tactic
to scam information.

Gold star, Shawn.
Really.

Well?

Crashed and burned.

Then somehow crashed again in Chile,
only to be eaten by my soccer teammates.

We're on our own.
That much is clear.

We'll stash Tony and Joon
at my dad's place.

That way we can focus on the case.

We need to figure out
what was on that encrypted file.

It was way too complicated
for any normal person to crack.

Then we'll find someplace
with people just as smart as Diddle

like a chemistry lab or...

- Cybervault?
- What?

Bringing your good stuff today, man.

I'll figure out the processing power

we'll need to run our localized servers
and report it to I.T.

- Better yet, you do it.
- Copy.

And what about the open source
coding seminar?

I know it's important.
I don't have the time.

Here's an idea.
I'll do it.

Let me take the lead on this one.
You're way out of your element here.

Make it quick.

Thank you for taking the time to speak
with us, sir. My name is Gus... Brown,

and this is my associate
Shawn White.

We're friends of Leonard Callahan,

and we're wondering if someone could
help us with one of his encrypted files.

I doubt it. Leonard was the best we had.
No one could break his encryptions.

He even had patents on them.

I can't even figure out...

what he was working on
before he died.

I don't suppose either of you can create
an 802.1q spanning tree loop

using auto forwarding
non-wintel based equipment?

I can make a straw wrapper crawl
like a worm.

And...

make the inside of my elbow
look like a butt.

- Thank you for your time.
- See?

Dude, it's Diddle's cubicle.

Maybe there's a clue there
about what was on that encrypted file.

That's just what I was thinking.

This guy's almost as organized
as you are.

Those brothers, they couldn't color-tab
their way out of the staples.

You're on them cause
they're not anal-retentive enough?

- What happened between you?
- Move on.

Dude, I've always wanted to do this.

Look what I just did.
I'm like Mr. Wizard.

I wonder what was so important

about those addresses.

- That's interesting.
- What?

Your boy liked big butts,
and I cannot lie.

What?

Looks like Diddle
had a little stalker in him.

Diddle was a saint, Shawn.
Don't talk about him like that.

I'm not mad at him.

Excuse us.
We were never formally introduced.

I'm world-renowned
psychic/lothario Shawn Spencer.

- This is my associate...
- Gus.

But you can call me John Slade.

I'm Chelsea.

I'm getting a psychic transmission
right here as we speak, Chelsea.

A fleeting glance

a stolen moment between coworkers.

Leonard had a little thing for you.

- How'd you know that?
- Psych... psychic... I'm...

I could always tell, the way he'd...

hold the door for me
or offer to help carry my files.

He finally got up the nerve
to ask me out right before he...

He was very sweet.

You don't meet many guys
like that these days.

There, there.
I know how you feel.

Do you recall anything unusual
about his final days?

We just started talking.

I never...
got to know him all that well.

He sure loved his music, though.
Always humming

or riffing on songs
over there in his cubicle.

Talking about some group
he used to sing with back in college.

Blackapella.

I was a part of that group, but...

Anyway.

If you can think of anything else

or if you just need someone
to talk to, please...

Feel free to give us a call.

This is my work card, but my personal
cell number's on the back.

- Thank you.
- Thank you, Chelsea.

All right.

Dude,
you realize that's the third variation

of "my work card with my some other
number on the back in pencil" move

that you've used this month alone?

It's called showing off
my penmanship, Shawn.

Ancient culture saw it
as a sign of virility.

- Shut up.
- It hurts.

Dad.

We left them here to keep them safe.

- Who did this?
- They did. Damn fools shot themselves.

Who the hell left them
with a BB gun?

I did.

They said they wanted to be able
to defend themselves.

Dumb move.

Calm down. The BB bounced off you.
It's like you're made of rubber.

I thought you two were wusses.
You're commandoes compared to them.

Please tell me you're onto something,
'cause our lives may depend on it.

- You can say that again.
- Don't you worry.

My meta-ethereal game
is as tight as Gus's workout shorts.

Checking some addresses here
that are psychically linked to Diddle.

Hello.

Hello.

Yes. This is John Slade.

Hey, Chelsea.
How you doing?

No. I'm glad you called.

Drinks later?

Okay, sure.

All right.

Who the hell is John Slade?

Hell, no, B.

I know you not using Diddle's death
to get some play with that shorty.

All I did was give her my number
in case she need to talk.

Let me guess.

Did you write it out for her
so she could see your good penmanship?

- I taught you that move, B.
- Say it ain't so, B.

- Who the hell is B?
- Everyone but you.

Gus will always sell out his boys
for some woman.

- Amen to that.
- What?

Last week, you left me at a Coco's
to help a chick to move a table.

Sister had green eyes.
That's a special circumstance.

Doesn't surprise me.
Gus has never honored the code.

- So you wanna go there?
- We can go there.

- You sure?
- We can.

- You wanna bring up the past.
- Absolutely.

It hasn't really been
long enough, okay?

It still kinda cuts deep
like a machete in the bush.

I'm the one that should be hurt.
You two slept with my girlfriend.

- She wasn't your girlfriend.
- She was a groupie!

An a cappella groupie?
That exists?

It was college, B.
We had the matching jackets...

And free biscuits and gravy
after every show.

It doesn't matter
what you two saw her as.

I was way into her and she was into me,
and you knew that.

You don't fall in love with a groupie.
That's part of the code!

Even Patrick Fugit knows that.

You don't sleep with your mate's girl.
That's the code!

I thought the code was about not having
a fling with your best friend's sister.

Wait a minute.
You hooked up with Joy?

- My hero!
- Gimme some.

- Stop it, Shawn.
- No, you stop it, G-Whiz.

You broke up Blackapella, man.

We were going places!

The whole world was our oyster, man.
Everybody loved us.

Did you see that video at the funeral?
We looked like idiots.

Those were hammer pants.
Five years behind the curve.

It wasn't about that.

We played shows at the student center
and the Cinnamon Festival, that's it.

It was about college and friendship
and having the best times of our lives.

And you betrayed me.
The both of you.

Got your minds mixed up in nonsense,
and it broke my heart!

We're all over this case, okay?

We're gonna check out these addresses,
and we will report back what we find.

In the meantime, you two stay put.

Diddle was here
the night that he died.

That's messed up.

What the...

I specifically told you guys
to stay at my dad's.

But then you gave us the nod.

So clearly you were saying, don't trust
something this important to Gus, B.

No. I'm not nearly adept enough
at using "B" to work it into a nod.

I was saying, "good-bye for now."

I told you not to mess with the nod.

Never.
You've never once said that to me.

Bottom line...
If you want this case to get solved,

you have to trust us,
and you have to stay away.

You're targets, remember?

- All right.
- Bet.

We're gonna check this out.
You go back to my dad's and stay put.

We'll check in with you later.

We'll wait five minutes and then
follow them inside with the BB guns.

You know that's right.

It looks like this party's over.

It actually looks suspiciously
like Steve Martin's office

in The Spanish Prisoner.

Help!

Help!

They got Tony and Joon!

- Tell me you have a plan.
- Sit down. We'll be doing the talking.

Two of my friends are missing,
and I'm next on the list.

- I'm entitled to...
- You're entitled to nothing.

And as far as your friends go,
you've got yourself to blame for them.

You must be out of your damn mind.

Enough, both of you.

Gus, I know this must be difficult,
but Lassiter is right...

Your friends had no business
being near that warehouse.

They followed us.
What were we supposed to do?

We tried to stash them at my dad's.
They bolted while he was on the throne.

We told you there was something rotten
in Sweden, but you wouldn't listen.

I am ordering you two to lay low
and stay out of our way.

We will call you
when we find your friends.

And Shawn, if you are feeling anything,
you better tell us right now.

Really?
Would that be useful?

I'm gonna put my energy
into making sure that my best friend

isn't the next domino to fall,
since that's the least of your concerns.

- We just...
- Just nothing.

Time is wasting.
Let's go, O'Hara.

Come on.

I know what'll make you feel better.

- Feel better?
- A little.

I never wanted to punch Lassiter
before today.

- Really?
- The worst part is that he's right.

Tony and Joon are not detectives.
They had no business being there.

They're grown men with free will.

There's so many things left unsaid.
All those years of radio silence...

I wish I had a chance
to tell them how I truly felt.

You have had countless opportunities
in the last 48 hours alone.

You know what?

You should have sang that song
you came up with for our high school.

Same one you sang for the principal
in the bathroom.

That's fromlean on me,
and you know it.

Don't act like you really care.

The reason why you took this case is
because you wanted to sing in our group.

All right, look...

I'll admit the thought
may have crossed my mind very briefly.

The truth is,

I took this case
because I got freaked

that you could have a falling out
with dudes that used to be so close.

If it could happen to you,
then it could happen to us.

Don't you realize that none
of the myriad of stupid, selfish,

and ultimately life-threatening stunts
you pulled over the years could do it?

It's probably not gonna happen.

So what do you wanna do?
We should probably hide you somewhere.

What would we do if we were still
on the case and looking for them?

Whatever Diddle was tracking,

the second warehouse on his list
is probably next, so...

we throw caution to the wind,
dress up like american ninjas,

and check it out.

- I don't wanna get shot, Shawn.
- Just stay low. You'll be the lookout.

Good 'cause I can look out
from outside.

Get back here!

That's weird.

What? What is it?

There's one hair on my knuckle
that's like...

twice as long as all the other ones.

What do you see, Shawn?

Dude.

It's some sort of secret deal.
With briefcases.

It looks super-shady.

How did Diddle get himself
mixed up in all of that?

He was the smartest,
most responsible brother in our group.

It's drugs.

This is all about drugs?

The weird guy from the funeral
is here!

- What is Reverend Watkins doing here?
- It's not Reverend Watkins!

- Who is it?
- The weird guy with the scar.

He left early, I told you.

That's a lotta dough.

This is straight out
of To Live and Die in L.A.

They put their pinky in the blow
and taste it to see if it's good?

He just did. It's good.

It's really good.
Dude, he double-dipped.

- That's unsanitary!
- Not if it's for his personal stash.

- We don't know.
- Do you see Tony and Joon?

Don't come up!
There's not room for you up here!

They're not here.

But I bet one of these b-holes
can lead us right to them.

I say we go back to the car,

wait, and then
follow the guy with the scar.

- That rhymed.
- Hello.

What are you doing?
He heard that!

- It's my phone!
- Turn it off.

- I'm trying to.
- Who could be calling you at this...

You are!

I tell you about putting your phone
in your back pocket.

That's ridiculous!

It is me. It is me.

Who are you?

You move, and I paint this wall
with your brain matter.

Now, who the hell sent you?

You wouldn't believe us.

Try me.

Mikhail...

- Dudikoff.
- Russian mob?

American ninjas.

Hello.

Get in the car!

I don't wanna get tortured, Shawn.

Shut up!

You two have managed to stumble
into the biggest undercover operation

- in this department's history!
- Where are Tony and Joon?

Tony and Joon are safe and sound
in the room right next door.

Joon is on his third doughnut.

This is detective Moses Johnson
from narcotics.

He's our inside man.

We simply couldn't risk
exposing him.

You two...

Sure have a propensity

for being in the wrong place

at the wrong time.

It's a refined skill.

Keeping track of you two
is getting sticky.

That's why we scooped up
your two friends.

Last night,

you literally landed
in the lion's den.

I'll be in the conference room.

How... in the hell
could you not tell us about this?

- We are members of this team!
- We solve a murder a week.

- Why did you leave us here all night?
- It was for your own protection.

What is all of this about,
and what did Diddle get himself into?

The SBPD uses undisclosed warehouses

to store the caches of drugs and weapons
they seize from busts.

The street value on this contraband
is astronomical.

Somebody cracked our network system,
discovered these locations,

and stole the confiscated drugs.

Detective Johnson was undercover
as a drug lord trying to make a score.

Diddle worked for Cybervault.

They protect credit card transactions,
trade secrets,

classified government documents.

I can see it.

Sbpd contracts Cybervault
to do their network security.

It's probably their biggest account.

We didn't make the connection
until you came

saying that your friend's death
wasn't an accident.

Diddle

discovered a workaround
in his company's code...

One that would allow
someone to access

any of their clients' protected
network communications.

He tried to take it to his supervisor,
got blown off,

and then he went
and followed the evidence for himself.

Your buddy was one smart cookie.

He got close enough to the rat

to catch him making the deal
with the bad guy on video.

Which is what we think
he attached to the email.

He also managed
to get himself killed.

Tony and Joon gave us the file.

We've had one of our best techies
working on it with no luck as of yet.

They've tried
every decryption algorithm.

I'm really sorry.

Your friend Leonard really seemed
like a stand-up guy.

I can't believe this.

- Man, it's good to see you too.
- Man, we thought we was dead for sure.

Tony started praying out loud
in the back of the car,

so then the scary Sugar Hill dude
was like, "shut the hell up back there!"

- Tell 'em what I said .
- Then...

I said, "man, don't you know
when it's time to keep your mouth shut?"

You understand me?
I was thinking words in my head,

but I wasn't saying them.
See? In my mind, I was like...

None of this would have happened

if we'd have got the group back together
like Diddle always wanted us to.

Right?

He sure loved his music, though.

So then when the bad dude
with the gun was like, "shut up!"

I was just like...

Because my mama taught me
from a very early age...

very early age...
I would say four, five, or six...

She was like,
"all you need in this world...

Basic morals, values, and respect."

Joon, shut up!

It's so hard to say good-bye.
Diddle gave us everything we need.

I gotta see the encryption on this file.
You guys...

Warm up your voices.

Follow me!

- Not now, Spencer.
- No, I think I got it.

Right.

I've run every algorithm imaginable.

There are four separate locks,
and I can't see a pattern anywhere.

It's not what you can't see.
It's what you can't hear.

- May I?
- Be my guest.

Fellas.
It's so hard to say good-bye.

Just like the old days,
minus the hair and satin.

It's working!

- The last strip?
- There were four of us. The harmony.

I got it! I'll do it.

That can't be.

Wait a second.

- That's the rat?
- Who is that?

Let's go!

Babies.

Chelsea Patterson.

You're under arrest.

What is this...

- John Slade?
- It's the end of the road.

Leonard discovered
the leak in your security code

and reported it to your supervisor
who, as always, passed it off to you.

Copy.

Unlike my friend,

you didn't do the noble thing
and decided to try and get yours.

You used the leak to acquire
the locations of the SBPD warehouses

and then sold that information
to a drug kingpin.

Diddle caught it all on camera.

He wasn't creepily
checking out your posterior.

- That's not creepy at all.
- He was investigating you.

You felt horrible
that your dealings led to his death,

but by then the damage
was already done.

Because of you, those same drug dealers
went after Gus, Tony, and Joon.

I'm officially canceling drinks.

- Probably.
- Nobody was supposed to get hurt.

Least of all Leonard.
I'm sorry.

You'll have plenty of time
to think about that.

In fact, we might be able
to cut into some of that

if you were to name some names
and lead us to your associates.

Do it for Diddle.

Nice work, guys.

- No thanks to you.
- Especially you.

I can't believe you didn't let us in.
I thought we were on the same team.

You are not a cop, Spencer.
You never will be.

Thank god for that, B.

I heard singing.
What's going on?

Tony's cousin's getting married
next week,

and one of the singers fell out,

- so we're stepping in.
- We need a fourth.

- Only question is, are you down?
- Are you kidding me?

With Shawn part of the group,
we can't use our old name. Blackapella?

- True, that.
- I've...

Actually given this some thought.

I think I got it.
What?

Quarterblack.

- That doesn't make any sense.
- It makes perfect sense. It's math.

One of me and three of you.

Quarterblack would be one black
and three white.

No, wait.

I like the ring of that.

Quarterblack.

It's like we're all...

Randall Cunninghams.

Three to one. I think that's settled.
Quarterblack it is.

That's not how it works.
We don't vote.

Who thinks we should start voting?

Who's hungry?

Who thinks Gus should pay?

You know what? I'm out.
I should have known better.