Psych (2006–2014): Season 6, Episode 11 - Heeeeere's Lassie - full transcript

After Lassiter moves into a new condominium building and strange things start happening to him, he is forced to hire Shawn and Gus to figure out what could be causing the supposed paranormal disturbance.

Are you wondering how healthy the food you are eating is? Check it -

Uh, Shawn, what's going on here?



You remember when I spent
all that dough

on the weekend retreat with Jules?

It was my dough.
Of course I remember.

Okay. All right.

Look, dude, we don't have
a case, no money.

So I'm just trying to raise
a little cash to pay you back.

I've already made 50 bucks.

- Hey, Thurman.
- What's happening, kid?

Is this a joke?

No, it's not a joke.

If you don't like it,
buy something else.

Listen, Shawn,

if you really want to raise some cash,

why don't you just sell
the engagement ring

you didn't give to Juliet?

Are you crazy? How dare you?


That is
my grandma-gamma's ring.

It is a prized
Spencer family heirloom.

Which you stashed
in a Nintendo D.S.

and almost lost forever.

Which will never happen again,

because now it's
in the most secure place ever.

Where, a safety deposit box?

Even better...
A thundercat.


- Speaking of which...
- That will be $7.

Where is that thing?

Thundercats, ho!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

That is not for sale.

Sorry, Thurman.

You're just going to have
to hand that over.

He did pay full price for it, Shawn.

Well, I'm going to buy it back, Jules.

Price just went up, Kingfisher.


Thurman, I will give you $15
and not a penny more.

Give me the...

This is $57.

It's all I have.



Hey, Carlton.

Uh, okay, I'm at the Psych office,

so I'll be there
in, like, ten minutes.

Well, I think they're going
to follow me no matter what.

Okay, good-bye.


Nothing suspicious.

I'm going to have to go rogue

and fabricate something
to get us in on this.

How is that different from usual?

- I'm completely sober.
- You're an idiot.

- I could eat.
- Me too.

All right, people, listen up.

Deceased's name
is Marc Waraftig, age 35.

Kept a tidy living space.

I respect that.

His body was found

by the building manager,
a Mr. Lloyd Marr.

I'm here.

Oh, uh, right.

Well, we will, uh...we will call
you if we need anything.

Don't have a cell phone.

All right, well, we have
the building number,

and, uh, you live here.

Well, Jules, my vision has told me

that the hanging dude hung himself.

So should I just invoice you,

or is there a cash machine nearby?

Hmm. That doesn't
really strike me

as a billable observation, Shawn.

- Damn it.
- Hmm.

Well, Shawn and I
will find the kitchen.

Then we'll figure out
what our hourly rate is

for coming up with nothing.

Hey, Lloyd?

Say, um, two bedroom,
two bath...

approximately what, 1,600 square feet?


Original oak floors,
some lovely period details.

I wonder if it's still knob and tube.

Solid plumbing.

- Hey, Spencer!
- Yo!

What's the appliance situation
like in the kitchen?

12-can dispenser
in the fridge...

Super dope!

But his snacks
are disgusting...way too healthy.

Please tell me you are not shopping

for real estate right now.

In exactly 93 days and 94 nights,

Marlowe will settle up
her debt to society,

and I think that it's high time
that I stepped up to the plate

and bought a home for myself
and the woman I love.

Besides, anything more than
a cot and a hot plate

is going to look
like Versailles to her.


I can tell just by glancing,
they're not my size.

- Oh, my God.
- Lloyd, my man...

I'm going to need
Marc's next-of-kin information.

That'd be, uh, his sister, June.

I would love to get a price

on her dead brother's living room set

before the estate-sale vultures
swoop in.

Oh, it's plush, still quite firm.

Gather round, everyone!

There is some big news that you
are all going to want to hear!

I have just purchased a new condo

for myself and my girlfriend, Marlowe,

who will be joining me

upon completion of her prison term.

There was a competing bid
on the place,

but I squashed that like a bug.

You are looking at the newest resident

of Prospect Gardens.

The Prospect Gardens?

Yes, McNab,the Prospect Gardens.

Try and hide your jealousy.
You're embarrassing yourself.

No, you didn't.

You're right.

Thank you.
Now, then...

I will be hosting a little, uh...

move-in soiree this weekend,
and you are all invited.

Wear clothing that you
don't mind getting paint on.

And back braces are recommended,
but not required.

Okay, get back to work,
crime fighters!

- It's going to be fun!
- Wow, Lassie.

You bought the dead guy's condo?

You see, Spencer,
this is what a real man

in a committed relationship does.

He provides for his lady love.

Watch and learn,
and maybe, against all odds,

O'Hara just might stick around.

Probably not.

Carlton, right?

Amy, on the second floor.

Quick directions
from you to me...

exit this door, hard right,
three floors down...

I know where your apartment is.

Okay. Ooh, wow, I love what
you've done with the place.

It's cozy
but with a heavy dose of man.

I dig it.

Sad about Marcky.

He was good people.

Can I help you?


But I have something for you.
It's a potluck basket.

I like to do it for all the newbies.

See, everybody in the building
gives a little gift,

and then I make it
look all "purty."

Here you go.
Welcome to Prospect Gardens.

Rat traps?

Oh, um, yes, they are from
Lloyd, the building manager.

He's got them all over the building,

just in case you get rats.

The bath salts are from me.

# A little something
for you and your lady #

How do you know if I have a lady?

Oh, please.

As if something like that
could still be on the market.

It's not, right?

Well, uh, listen, Judy...

- Amy.
- Maybe you can save me

some time and an altercation or two.

- Mm-hmm.
- I dropped my nest egg

on this place,

and that's years
of interrogations and arrests.


Are you a man in blue?

I'm head detective of the
Santa Barbara Police Department.

Oh, get out of this condo!

I need you to do something
for me, Sally.

- Amy.
- I need you to spread the word

that there's a new sheriff in town.

And I'm going to be doing
background checks

on everyone in this building,

including that duplicitous
seven-year-old next door.

Good, 'cause he's
a full-on little d-bag.

Hey, any chance you could get Lloyd

to replace that hideous awning?

Consider it done.
I leave no stone unturned, Amy.

Now go spread that word.

Spread it door-to-door

like a northwest wildfire
being fed by an August wind.

You're kind of super awesome.

- Thanks for noticing.
- You're welcome.

And listen, if you
need anything, I'm...

What's going on?


- I've learned my lesson.
- Hmm.

It turns out that toys

are not the safest place
to hide expensive jewelry.


Hey, Lassie!

What, did you come by to thank us

in person for your housewarming gift?

I'm here because I have a...

situation at my new condo.

- Dead hookers?
- Robot cockroaches?

I heard things.

All right.

Take a load off, Lassie.

What's...what's going on?

Just strange sounds and...

jiggling and hissing, and...

I also, um, saw some things.

What kind of things?

Just general
spooky-type things,

things that are hard
to explain, like, um...

people that are there
when they shouldn't be

and should be when they aren't.

And, um, there were some chairs
that moved on their own.


Your place is haunted!

No, no, no, it's not.

It is not haunted, you simpletons.

It's's nothing
more than nonsense probably,

and since nonsense is your specialty,

I thought I would come here first.

We appreciate that.

What the hell is this?

Standard hiring contract.

Legal stipulations,

sexual-harassment guidelines,
labor laws.

And an envelope for per diem.

That's 60 bones per dude
and a slushy fund.

That's money set aside
strictly for slushies.

You two morons are really
enjoying this, aren't you?

- Not at all. Not really.
- No.

I will pay your standard flat rate,

not a penny more...
take it or leave it.

We will take it.

You know the address.

Meet me
at the condo at 6:00.

- Don't be late.
- You got it.

You understand why I'm upset, right?

Lassie, we have to be prepared
for any and all scenarios.

Including ones
that may involve spirits,

shades, or sprites,

even though we know
it's not any of that.

- Take those off, Guster.
- Okay.

Now, listen, if anyone in the building

inquires about your presence,
you're here for a sleepover.

Okay, not a sleepover.

You're here
on official police business.


Let's do this.

Ooh, howdy, neighbor!

So, you know,
I was just talking to Lloyd,

and I was telling him that I think

we need a vegetable garden
on the roof.

And he was all, "Screw off,"

and I was all like,
"You're hilarious."

Had to be there.

Anyway, who are you friends?

Shawn Spencer...
psychic detective, S.B.P.D.

This is my partner...
Fellatio del Toro.

We're investigating a haunting
in Lassiter's new condo.

That's some good skinny.

I got to get up
to this floor more often, huh?

They're joking.

They're here
on official police business.

Mm, copy that, Poncharello.
That's the haps.

You know, I got to say,
I feel a whole lot better

having a big, strong
man in blue on the beat.

Ooh, got to get off to work.

Nice to meet you, Shawn...



Hello, Rose Marie.

Hello, Carlton.

I see you're still with child.

Yep, that's sort of how it works

when you're pregnant
and haven't had the baby yet.

Hey, Rose Marie, I don't suppose
you've given any more thought

to soundproofing the wall we share

in anticipation
of your offspring having colic?

I don't suppose
you've given any more thought

to kissing my fat,

Jelly Bean, give me those bags!

Hey, Carlton, how are you?

Hello, Ed.
I'm fine.

Tony, come home, sweetie.

So, listen, we're doing
movie night tonight,

and if you don't have
anything else to do,

why don't you come on by?

Lassie, can we?
Can we, can we, can we?

Oh, gosh darn it, Ed.
That sounds really fun.

But they're here
on official police business.

Well, uh, uh, next time, then.

Say, uh, Carlton...

who you gonna call?

I do not like those people.

So where'd you see
those ghostly nude twins?

They weren't nude.
They were elderly.

Maybe in your imagination.

Down at the end of the hall.

It's a hallway, not a nightclub.


That's Art.

He was in Korea.

Lloyd, my good man.

I've been wanting to talk
to you about something.

Let's keep those lightbulbs
under 60 watts, huh?

The old girl's wiring
wasn't built for speed.

- Mm-hmm.
- Carry on.

Ah, ah, don't you ever touch me, son.

Duly noted.

My apologies.

Have a good day.

What are you doing?

Where are you going?

What are you...

Well, hello, ladies.


- Can we...
- Help you?

You know what?
I think I have the wrong condo.

My bad.

Good day.

That will be $1,000.

Fine. So the creepy twins
live in the building.

But I haven't touched my chairs

since someone or something
put them on top of the table.


No, no, no, no, no.

No, this...
this is impossible.

- Uh-oh.
- That'll be another $1,000.

You have to believe me,

something strange is occurring here.

Lassie, you have any idea

how badly I wanted those twins

to be a set of freakish apparitions?

- More than you'll ever know.
- Place looks great, by the way.


I think this is just a case

of your imagination
getting the best of you.

Happens to Gus and I
once every seven days.

This is not my imagination.

All right, think about it.

How sure must I have been
that something nefarious

is at play here for me to come
to you two dunderheads for help?


He's got a point.

Stop it!

Stop it.

Okay, we'll stay.

But we need to be free
to do what we do.

There's an intensity to our work.

A focus so pure that even
the slightest distraction

could cost us very dearly.

Gus, give me your face.

What's up, girl?

Worthless idiots.

Oh, I want to blow the bubbles!

Get it, girl. Get it.




Did you have a bad dream, baby?

Aah! Aah!


Oh, my God.

What the hell?

- Lassie!
- Lassie!

- What?
- Get in here!

Go to sleep!

Son of...

This better be good!

- Lassie!
- What, what, what?


Is that...


Woody, we came right down.

Why did you send us a 911 text
when we were just upstairs?

No, it was a 711 text,

and I was hoping
you could bring me a slurpee

or a quesadilla
in the shape of a tube.

Did you analyze the blood from
my light fixture like I asked?

I did, but first,

may I interest you
in a game of shuffleboard?

- Ooh, me first!
- Yes, please.

- Just spit it out!
- The blood wasn't human.

I'm sorry?

The blood wasn't...

- Chupacabras?
- Dead robot hookers?

Some kind of animal...

one with abnormally high triglycerides

and what appears to be an STD.

Lloyd's rat traps.

That's it...
his rat traps!

Some sort of very, very large rodentia

got caught in one of the rat traps

and bled out into the light fixture.

How does that explain
all the other weird stuff

you've experienced?

Stress, exhaustion,
presence of you two nitwits.

Oh, this is so stupid,

just forget
about the whole thing, okay?

Do not breathe a word
of this to anyone.

Why would we spread this story around?

So Carlton's new condo is haunted,

and his ceiling is bleeding?

- Yes.
- It all happened when we took

a late night trip to Tinkletown.

Not together.

Carlton, what...
what happened to you?

These two happened.

You know, fellas,
I didn't mention it before

- because it goes without saying...
- You're welcome.

You're fired.

As usual, thanks
for absolutely nothing.

Rat traps.

We should have told her
about Lassiter's kitchen chairs

being mysteriously placed
on top of the table.

Gus, I'm not telling
Juliet about things

that we don't believe
actually happened.

Oh, my God.
I believe that happened!

I was afraid
you were going to say that.

This isn't a haunting, Gus.

Someone's behind it,
and if we can prove who,

Lassie has to pay us
for services rendered.

That might be
the most pragmatic thought

you've ever had.

But who's doing it?

Tonight's movie night.

So, if you're not doing anything,

why don't you come on by?

There was a competing bid
on the place,

but I squashed that like a bug.

Lassie's neighbors...
the Farrows.

They seem pretty normal to me.

I will spill my own blood

to defend thine honor with my life.

My one, my only...



So cold.

And curtain.

Now, where were we
before we were interrupted

by my impromptu performance?

We are aware that you have
interest in the condo next door.

Expanding your space?

Well, yes, of course
we were interested,

especially with a new baby on the way.

And, yes, I had some plans drawn up.

It was going to be incredible...
one big penthouse.


We owned a lingerie store...

Frisky Business.

We had to close the doors
about a month ago.

So, until we get back on our feet,

we have to put our plans on hold.

We even withdrew our offer on 536.

And as far as anything
strange going on here

the past couple of days,
we only got in town yesterday,

and last night we had to take
Tony to the emergency clinic.

He was running
a very, very high fever.

I can't imagine why.

One last question...

Is there any merchandise left
over from Frisky Business?

Well, okay, Lloyd, but
as long as we are in agreement

that that awning
is a real eyesore and...

I'm changing it!


Ooh! Hello.

You know what
I was just thinking?

I should put together
a camping trip...I love to camp.

Do you love camping?
I love camping.

The whole building could go camping!

Think on this.

- You liked that?
- I didn't mind it.

Lloyd, my good man, I'm Shawn Spencer.

This is my partner,
Eddie Adams from Torrance.

Yeah, I remember you.

You had your hand
in a dead man's fridge.

May we sneak a word with you?

Come on in.


- He did tell us to come in.
- I guess so.

Where'd he go?

Hey, Lloyd!

Really love what
you've done with the place.

Clean lines.

This is disgusting.
Who lives like this?

Aah! Wow.


Silly man.


We...we are here to ask you
kind of an odd question.

There's nothing around
here that seems odd,

at least if you've seen
what I've heard

and heard what I've seen.

So you're aware
of the unexplained phenomena

in unit 536?

Well the business
in unit 536 ain't unexplained.

- That's what we were thinking.
- Right.

I told you we came to the right dude.

We think someone is trying
to scare Carlton Lassiter

out of 536.

You're right, and I know
who the culprit is.

Oh, okay.

Condo 536.

- Hmm.
- I think we're done here.

No, wait, wait.
I've seen it.

Sound-minded men
move in there.

Then they begin to unravel.

And before you know it...

they're delivered
into the mouth of madness.

Condo 536 has a curse
within its walls.


We need to get out of here.

Thank you for your time, Lloyd.

All right, Papa Bear...

Previous residents
of Lassie's place...go.

All right, first of all,

there's definitely
something strange going on here.

It says that a guy named
Ray Brauer lived in condo 536

for about three years, before one day,

he decides to take a flying leap
out the bedroom window...

dead at the scene.

- What?
- So the last two guys

who lived in Lassiter's place
took their own lives?

Yeah, apparently.

Now, according to this,
Brauer was increasingly erratic

before he took the big plunge.

Now, I'm no expert in this stuff,

but there's definitely
something weird going on here.

- It's not haunted.
- No, it isn't.

- I think it's haunted.
- It probably is.

- Gus!
- What?


I've been doing a little more digging

into the history
of Lassiter's building.

It gets even more weird.

I'm not sure that's even possible.

Prospect Gardens' architect

was a man named
J. Michael Hageman,

who conceived it as his masterpiece.

But the project had a lot of problems,

like structural issues,
a series of contractors,

and eventually he saw his pet
project as a colossal failure.

It was reported that his behavior

became more and more erratic,
and then he just disappeared.

Was he ever found?

Three days later, in the building,

dead along with his wife...

It's haunted.
It's haunted!

- I'm with Gus on this one.
- Would you two please stop?

All I'm saying is someone

other than me might want
to go check on Lassie

to make sure the condo
hasn't taken him.

All right, let's go.

Other than me.
Other than me, Shawn!

It's a coincidence, Gus.

Did you even listen to Juliet's story?

What, some hack architect
has a mean wife?

It's a tale as old as time.

Buildings do not drive people crazy.


- Lassiter?
- Hmm.

Woody, you got to give us something.

Lassie's off his tree,
and he's only getting worse.

My brethren, the death
of Marc Steven Waraftig

has me vexed.

Blood screen says
the man's blood contained

a surprising amount of amyl nitrite.

- Poppers?
- Super job, Guster...

Psychoactive inhalant commonly
used as a recreational drug,

usually before a long shift.

But his snacks
are disgusting...way too healthy.

That doesn't make any sense.

Waraftig was some sort of health nut.

Woody, can you pull up the
autopsy report for a Ray Brauer?

Oh, boy.
Did you see that?

- No.
- Yes.


Swan-dive out
his bedroom window.

I always wanted to try that.

Traces of amyl nitrite in his system!

Guys, that must be it!

This psychoactive drug drove
Brauer and Waraftig crazy,

and now someone's trying to do
the same thing to Lassie.

Clearly we're looking for
someone who knows the building

and has access to the units.


This is exhausting.

Remind me again what
I'm supposed to be looking for?

I don't know...
anything that'll let us know

why Lloyd had it in
for the guys of 536.

Dude, this is the housewarming
gift we got Lassie.


A.S.P.C.A. gift card?

But we made a donation
in Lassiter's name

on behalf of squirrels everywhere.

Question is, why does Lloyd have it?

Because Lloyd is stealing
from his residents.

This is Rose Marie's hat.

Based on this random
collection of junk,

who knows how long he's been thieving?

This guy's a serious klepto.

I think he has one of Amy's paychecks.


This is the stuff Woody
was talking about...

amyl nitrite.

The stuff that was found
in the two dead guys from 536.

Yeah, Lloyd is literally gassing them.

Uh, go up to Lassie's place.

See if you can find
any traces of this stuff.

I'm going to call Juliet
and look for Lloyd.

Why do I have to go to Lassie's?

You would rather go look
for Lloyd in some dark corner?

I'm going to Lassie's.



What are you doing here, Guster?

Oh, listen...

Someone has been messing
with your place.

And we know who it is.

- So do I.
- You're not in your right mind

'cause you've been breathing
a dangerous chemical...

this stuff.


Because you put it there just now.

No, I found it.

There is no limit to how far
you and Spencer will go

to mess with me, is there?

Okay, Lassie, just try
to pull it together.

And why? Because I am moving
forward in my life,

and I have finally scratched out
a little bit of happiness

and you two can't stand to see it!

- Well...
- Especially you.

I mean, at least Spencer
has a girlfriend.

That's cold-blooded, Lassie.

Here's the juice, Guster.

I will prevail.

I have worked too long and
too hard to get to where I am,

and I am not about to let
you two take this away from me.

Okay, you know what?
You are out of your damn mind.

Stay here and relax.
I'm going to get you some help.

- You're not going anywhere.
- What is that supposed to mean?

Are you crazy?

En garde.

Lassie, Lassie!

Oh, strike one!

Hey, Jules.

I need you to come down
to Prospect Gardens

and ask Lloyd the manager
a few questions.


Guster, come out and play!

The reason those guys
killed themselves

is because they were
out of their heads,

just like you!



You can run, but you can't hide!


That was dumb.


It's time to come out!


- Boo!
- Aah!

Guster! Come on!

It's going to be fun!

It wasn't me!
It was Lloyd!

Lloyd is the one who's doing this!


You win.

I guess I'm just gonna leave.

You're not leaving.

You're just making footstep sounds!


Have it your way.





- Aah!
- Aah!

Damn it, this door's really solid.

I think it's oak.

I guess I better just
huff and puff on this one!





- Hey, Guster?
- Yeah?

You know, at this rate, this
is going to take me forever.

So, uh, how about you
help a brother out

and unlock the door, huh?

So you can kill me?
Hell, no!

I guess we're going to have to do this

the old-fashioned way, then.



Stop, stop!

Tony, Tony, help me!
Help me!

Tough luck, Guster.

No, please!
Please don't!


That's it, Lassie!
It wasn't Gus! It was Lloyd!

It was Lloyd.

You can let me up now.


What is that rattling?

It wasn't Lloyd.

All right...

If you could think
of one thing in the world

that would make you feel better
right now, what would it be?

I wouldn't say no to a Sloppy Joe.

Thank you.


What the hell is this, Spencer?

Ah, that, my friend, is gazpacho.

It's very refreshing.


All right, I'm going
to get him out of here.

We're going to be back at
the station if you all need us.

Oh, I'm so sore.

Sorry I tried to kill you
with my sword, Guster.

Shawn, if Lloyd isn't our killer,

then who else could it be?

This guy's a serious klepto.

I think he has one of Amy's paychecks.

We need to get back in Lloyd's place.

What? Why?

Are you going to explain
to me what's going on, Shawn?

Yes, Gus.
Yes, I am.

And it is a doozy.

We thought
that Lloyd had stolen

one of Amy's paychecks.

But upon further inspection,
it's not a paycheck.

It's a bill.

237, should have known.

You don't work at the hospital,
do you, Amy?

We paid a little visit
to a psychiatrist

named Dr. Anctil.

You're his patient.

Too bad the doctor-patient-
confidentiality agreement

is moot when you're suspected
of murder.

Yeah, he told us
you have mommy issues...

and daddy issues...

and something called
acute rejection disorder...

probably has something to do

with you being left at the altar.


You fell madly in love
with the first victim,

Ray Brauer, but the feelings
just weren't mutual.

So you used the folklore
of Prospect Gardens...

stories of its haunting borne
by the murder-suicide

committed by the building's
architect, J. Michael Hageman,

many years ago.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

You methodically made Ray
think he was losing his mind

by haunting and drugging him

and eventually pushing him out
of his own bedroom window.

It worked so well that you decided

to do the same thing again to Mark,

who also gave you the cold shoulder.

- That's not true.
- Ah-ah-ah.

Still not finished, Bananas Foster,

'cause there's poor, poor Lloyd.

After all these years of kleptomania,

his sticky fingers
finally found evidence

that you were up
to some nasty, nasty business.

So you killed him

and somehow figured out
a way to stuff him

into the world's largest
industrial dryer.

And put him on a long cycle.

Cops are on their way, Amy.

- It's the end of the line.
- Sorry.


Are you kidding me?

- Come on.
- Are you kidding me?

She's got the crazy
coursing through her legs!

All right, stop!

We're wildly out of shape.

No, he's out of shape.

The air's too thin for me up here.

I know why you were
haunting Lassiter...

head detective of the S.B.P.D.

Not going to leave any stone
unturned in your building...

had to turn up the heat
to get rid of him.

Just throw in the towel.

We can get you the help that you need.

Let it end here.

"Let it end here"?


There's so many floors...

So many floors!

Give it up, Amy!

There's no escape now!

Where'd she go?

This is not the greatest
escape strategy, Amy.

Unless you led us up here
for some reason.

For what? What? It's not like
there's an amazing view.

It's mostly trees.



# Ave Mar...

Good thing Lloyd replaced that awning.

Yeah, I guess.

She's crazy!

She did it.

Get back!

- Jeez.
- Yeah.

Hey, dude, I remember where
I hid the ring.

Gus, that was money.

I must have shined that to you.

You can't shine, Shawn.
But you can use your brain.

I did. I am.

I'm going to re-hide the ring.

This time, I've narrowed it down
to three super-secret spots.

I want you to pick your favorite one.

Reptile house...

How about you put it
back in the drawer

at your dad's house before
he notices that it's missing?

That's not really hiding it, Gus.

That's more like giving it back.

That's right.

Or are you keeping it
because you're planning

on proposing again?

No, I told you...that was never
even really on the table.


Yeah, fine.

Just to show you
that I'm on the level,

I'll do it, all right?

I will take the ring
back to my dad's house.


Because marriage proposal is
the furthest thing from my mind.

- Mr. O'Hara?
- Gus.

I haven't eaten in 72 hours.

I need a sandwich and
a cold drink, non-carbonated.

Sandwich should have cheese,
but that's not a deal breaker.

I'm not a young man.

All right.

Frank, here you are...
dressed like that.

I came as soon as I got
your voice mail.

- Voice mail?
- You left me

an urgent message saying
you were headed out

for a weekend getaway with my daughter

and you wanted to talk to me first.

Oh, right, I did not forget
that I did that.

But I left you that message
a week ago.

- Where were you?
- Tanzania.

You climbed Kilimanjaro?

Gus, don't make up words.

What were you doing
in Australia, Frank?

Shawn, this is not about you and me

and whether or not I conned the Igbos

into revealing the location
of the crystal skull of Mawibi.

I sense that you had an urgent
question about my daughter,

so spit it out.

Don't mince words.

I gambled and went with a pickle.


Okay, here's the deal.

I got this crazy idea in my head

that Jules wanted me
to propose marriage

on our vacation, so, uh...

so I called you,

and...and then I stole
my grandmother's engagement ring

from my father's bedroom.

Well, anyway, it was a huge
misunderstanding, thank God.

But since you're here
and you traveled all that way,

maybe I should bank your blessing

in case I need it in the very,
very distant future.



I don't know...
you're sharp, but...

I always dreamt that my daughter
would marry someone unlike me...

someone honest.

Now look me in the eye and tell me

you've never lied to my daughter, huh?

Yeah, birds of a feather.

I've always had trouble
with the truth, all my life.

And it's taken its toll
on the people closest to me.

Mr. O'Hara, yes, Shawn
has bent the truth on occasion,

but he's as decent as they come.

In fact, he's the type of guy

I'd want my daughter to bring home...

Provided he was mostly black...

- And God-fearing.
- Okay.

And she wasn't really my daughter.

I'll think about that,
that's very sweet.

I'll wait for your next call.

- Gus, what happened to my pickle?
- You ate it already.

Can't put anything over on you!

Look at the time.

I got to fly.

If the NSC calls looking for me,

tell them I've dumped my cell phone.

Thanks, man.

You're welcome.

He still didn't give me his blessing.

And he took the plate I made
from Color Me Mine.

This guy...