Psych (2006–2014): Season 7, Episode 11 - Office Space - full transcript

At Gus' pharmaceutical job, Creech could be the world's worst boss. As Gus quits that night, he finds Creech dead. Gus ends up getting his fingerprints on every piece of furniture. He goes ...

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---
[Tapping on glass]

What the--

- I screwed up bad, Shawn.
- Shh.

Man, what are you doing
out here?

Keep it down.
Jules is asleep.

It's bad, Shawn.

It's really, really,
really bad.

I'm freaking out.

- I'm gonna cry.
- Don't cry.

Don't--don't do it.

Meet me around front.



Jesus, man.

- [Sobbing]
- Come on.

Don't touch anything.
You're all filthy.

- I know.
- Come on.

Okay.

Shh, man, be quiet.

You look like Bruce Willis
in Blind Date.

I know.

- What happened to you?
- Okay, okay.

It all started this morning
at work.

For the nth time,
what do I take in my coffee?

- Two creams, three sugars.
- No!

No, two cream,
three sweet'n low,

you mousy, imbecile twit!



Can you believe this guy?

Who does he think he is,
talking to her that way?

You know Creech
is a total jag bag.

Should we say something to him?

Are you kidding me?

I fantasize about killing
that man every day.

I would love that!

Okay?

And I don't open my own mail.
You do!

Creech, that is enough!

Excuse you?

Uh...
you heard me.

I don't even know you.
Do you work here?

I'm Burton Guster.

And that is a person
you are yelling at.

Her name is Helen Blaine,

and she's not
just your assistant,

she's a human being, so you
can't just talk to her that way,

not as long as I have
something to say about it.

Whoa.

You actually said that?
Out loud?

I did.

I wish it ended there...

but it doesn't.

[Scoffs] Well, guess what.

You have nothing
to say about it

because I'm your boss,

and you're nothing but a scared,
weak, pathetic peon.

Run along now.

Helen, get in here!

What happened
with the San Antonio email?

- I sent it.
- When did you send it?

- This morning.
- To the wrong person!

Do you know that?
So now what are we gonna do?

What is San Antonio
gonna do now

to get the numbers
to the right people?

Take this to Creech's office.

What?

Right on, buddy, right on!

No, not right on, Shawn.
Not at all right on.

What, are you crazy?
Get back over there, man.

I'm proud of you, man,

not just standing up
for that girl

but for sticking it
to your boss on your own behalf.

To be honest, I didn't even
realize you still worked there.

But it takes
titanium knickknacks

to stand up and quit like that.

No, I don't know
what I was thinking, Shawn.

I need that job.
I have bills.

I have Psych bills.

I have your bills.

You selfish son of a bitch!

That is the most irresponsible
thing you could've done.

Will you let me finish
my story, Shawn?

Well, hurry up.

Okay.

I heard footsteps.

At the time, I was thinking

maybe Creech was burning
the midnight oil,

and he's still there.

I could apologize.

He was dead, Shawn.

Totally dead.

Stabbed to death.

- Stabbed to death?
- Yes.

- Did you kill him?
- What?

No, of course
I didn't kill him!

What's the matter with you?

- Well, did you call the police?
- I was going to...

but then something happened.

What does that mean,
"Something happened"?

What happened?
You got out of there, right?

You got out of there,

and you didn't touch
anything, right?

I was gonna leave.

Then I saw the note I wrote
to Creech still in his hand.

- You ate the note?
- I panicked, Shawn.

There was no place else
to put it.

I didn't know what to do.

All right, all right!

All right, so you did that.
You did that.

But then you walked
out of there.

You walked out of there
without touching anything else.

Am I right?

[Wheezing]

Is that--
is that everything?

[Coughing]

[Yelping]

Oh, my God!
I can't--aah!

Ah!

Ahh!

All right, calm down.
Hey, hey, hey, calm down.

I'm sure you're making
this sound worse

- than it actually was.
- I'm not, Shawn.

Look at me.
We're in this together.

- Okay.
- Just like we always are.

You and me.

- I'm gonna put some pants on.
- Okay.

- I'm gonna put on some coffee.
- Okay.

We're gonna go down there
together,

and we're gonna look at this,
we're gonna make it kosher.

- Okay.
- What does that mean?

The meats and cheeses,
they're not gonna touch.

Touch, right.
They're not gonna touch.

They're not gonna touch.

Stay here, I'll be right back.

Holy living--

Yeah.

Dude, I think

you might have actually
undersold this thing.

- You didn't kill this guy, right?
- No!

All right, well, you've got
innocence on your side.

- What?
- I think we should call

the police and let the chips
fall where they may.

You're talking
like a real white guy

right now, Shawn.

Brothers don't get the benefit
of the doubt.

I will not rot in a cell.

You said
we were in this together.

Come on, man.

You know I'm gonna bake you
a cake with a gun in it.

You said that the meats

and the cheeses
are not gonna touch, Shawn.

Well, they're touching
right now!

They're touching right now,
they're touching right now.

You're gonna poke me
and talk to me crazy--

Yow!
Aw!

- Dude!
- Oh, man!

Now I'm all dirty!

Shawn, your nose.
It's bleeding.

- What?
- Your nose, it's bleeding.

[Sneezes]

[Gus whimpering]

[Knocking on door]

Dad, we really, really,
really screwed up.

[The Friendly Indians'
I Know You Know]

♪ I know you know
that I'm not telling the truth ♪

♪ I know you know
they just don't have any proof ♪

♪ Embrace the deception,
learn how to bend ♪

♪ Your worst inhibitions tend
to psych you out in the end ♪

7x11
Office SPACE

Listen, guys.

Everything's gonna be okay,

as long as you didn't tamper
with the crime scene.

You didn't tamper
with the crime scene, did you?

- Did you?
- [Sobbing]

I can't believe
I'm saying this.

We're gonna have to go back in
there and assess the situation.

I gotta see this for myself.

No! No!

That's it.
You are gonna come clean.

No, no, no, dad.
We can't do that.

I'm still black, remember?

This is not a discussion!

Henry.
What are you doing here?

Juliet,
there's something that--

We would like to give to you.

It is a small gift,
but it'll have to wait

because--ha.
What's going on here?

Uh, well, first of all,
that was ridiculously fast.

We got an anonymous call
about a body,

and I just texted you.

Well, you know us.

Someone gets murdered
in Santa Barbara,

Gus and I are bound
to be close by.

Juliet, a moment
of your time, please.

I think the guys would like
to tell you--

What?
Dorian Creech is dead?

[Gasps] Oh, no.

Oh, no!

Oh, n--

no.

- You knew this man?
- Of course.

Dorian Creech.
I work here.

You still work here?

Life is so fleeting.

One day you see a man alive,
yesterday.

And then today, without seeing
him at all in between...

he's dead.

- Hark the herald angels.
- Wow.

I'm sure his family
would appreciate

this heartfelt
and descriptive tribute.

[Whispering] Hey.
What happened to you last night?

That's a fair question.
I disappeared.

I had to take Papa Bear here
to the urgent care clinic

because he was having
chest pains

and delusional memory loss.

Daddy, it's me.
I've come home.

That's it!
Enough, Shawn.

Juliet, there's something
these guys are--

- Sir...
- No!

You're beet red, and your brow

- is abnormally sweaty.
- Is it?

- It is very sweaty.
- Yeah, your son's right.

- You should come with me.
- No, I'm--

Come on, pop, just relax, put
your head between your knees.

Get your hands off me!
Shawn, get in here.

All right, our victim
has multiple stab wounds

to the back.

Whoever we are dealing with,
they're an expert.

This scene has been wiped clean
as a whistle...

with little evidence
of foul play.

Also note the victim's socks
have been removed,

but the shoes are still on.

Could be some sort
of sicko murder ritual.

Your blood is on his socks!

Oh, God!
Oh!

Detective,
don't let me interrupt.

I just wanted
to introduce myself.

I'm Leslie Sally,
head of security,

Central Coast Pharmaceuticals.

You said your name was...
Leslie Sally?

Leslie Valerie Sally.
Yes.

Well, uh, Sally,

this is sort of
an Adult Swim type situation,

so why don't you and your blazer
run along

and solve the mystery of,
oh, I don't know,

who stole Jenson's lunch?

Shawn, I stole Jenson's lunch.

Let's bag and tag
everything on this desk.

Sorry, detective.

You may have noticed
a slight trill in my voice.

I have a minor fear
of speaking in public,

but I wanted to note
that each executive office

is issued a wastebasket
with a liner,

and that liner is missing.

Gosh, that is a...

great tip,
junior G-Man.

Dude, that vase wasn't broken
when we left.

- Detective--
- Why are you still here?

You may wanna check
the victim's palm.

His hand seems to be
gripping something.

Then again,
it's my first murder case.

What do I know?

I was gonna check the palm.

Part of a note.

"'Re an a-ho."

Smiley face.

Hmm. Funny thing.
Beginner's luck, detective.

This morning,
on the way to work,

I had a V8,

which may account
for how sharp I've been.

I've also accounted
for all 17 trash receptacles.

Each one has its liner,

except one down the hall
from this very office.

And here's
the interesting thing.

The trash has not been picked up
from last night.

Get out.

Are you sure your title

isn't "Chief of Trash
Receptacle Liners"?

Perhaps you'd all
like to join me in the hallway.

That's not gonna happen, Sally.

Where the hell you going,
O'Hara?

Go.
[Clears throat]

Here, soda dropped from
the bottom of the waste bag.

I believe the killer
took this route

to dispose of the trash.

[Struggling]

This way!

- I--
- Follow me, Shawn.

This is narrow.

Okay, he went down the hallway
this direction!

All right, all right.
Shawn.

Shawn! Gus!
This has got to stop!

You guys have got to come clean
and turn yourselves in.

Both: Shh!

Don't make me take you back
to urgent care.

You're a part
of this lie too now.

Besides, none of us
killed the guy.

You stole the man's socks!
What kind of sickos do that?

- Mr. Spencer, your heart.
- Guster!

- I will choke you out.
- Dad!

- Spencer, calm down.
- Yeah, seriously, dad.

Why do you wanna sound off
alarm bells

before Gus and I have
had a chance

to investigate this murder?

That's what we do.
That's what you used to do.

Have a little Spencer faith.

You're floundering, Shawn.

You don't even have a suspect.

I fantasize about killing
that man every day.

Oh, yes, we do.

There!

This is where the trail ends,
and our killer made his getaway.

Yes, that's correct.
The killer got away clean.

Clean as a whistle.

- Unfortunate, but it's over.
- [Whistling]

Nobody should be whistling
just yet.

This way, folks.

It's just a theory.

That's not the dumbest thing
I ever heard.

What kind of a psychopath
stabs a man to death

and then drinks
a cup of coffee?

[Both grunting]

With any luck, this bad boy'll
yield some prints.

Let's have a look, shall we?

Well, lookee there.

It's covered with 'em.

And Bob's your uncle.

Oh, don't tell me.

It's my mug.

Neil Nebersol
is out as a suspect.

He was on the phone
with his shrink

when Creech was murdered.

I verified it.

Square one.
Shawn!

I don't even like coffee.

It's just a thing people do.

"Oh, I'll put on
a pot of coffee."

Damn you, Cagney...

and Lacey.

A lot of acid build-up
in the esophageal gland.

Evidence of aggravated vomiting
prior to death.

Could be foul play,
or he could just be bulimic.

Uh, this just in.
I am not bulimic.

Yesterday, I ate a donut
out of the garbage.

Huh.

There's no evidence of vomit
at the scene.

The killer must've
cleaned that up as well.

That liner is missing.

Wounds are deep,
but they're narrow, smooth.

I'm thinking maybe
an ice pick at this point.

And I don't open my own mail.
You do!

Creech!
That is enough!

Not me.

I'm thinking
it's a letter opener.

Yes. Helen Blaine,
Creech's assistant.

He threw a letter opener
at her yesterday morning.

Now that's something to go on.

I'll check out this Blaine.

O'Hara, get that mug
down to forensics asap.

Uh, ASAP feels
a little zealous.

Soonish would suffice.

Jules.
Jules, Jules.

Now that we're back
in the saddle

at ye old homestead--

Shawn, it's still my homestead,

and nothing is back yet.

Last night was one-time thing.
We're adults.

- Right.
- It happens.

Right.

We can work out
the logistics later.

Remember that little talk
we had about honesty?

Little?

Well, honest Shawn has
something tiny to disclose.

Are you kidding me?
What were you guys thinking?

Gus panicked.

I acted like a normal person
in a highly charged situation.

Man, you ate a buck slip.

I will not lie for you, Shawn.
I can't be a part of this.

No, I'm sorry.
It's too late for that.

I'm sorry, Jules.

The mug in the bag
is the mug from the house,

which means your fingerprints
are all over it too.

You took our mug to a murder?

Damn you, Tyne Daly...

and Sharon Gless.

Well, my fingerprints
won't be on it

if you did the dishes
like you said you did.

Another moment of honesty?

I heard the dishwasher running!

It was empty, okay?
I ran it empty.

- What's happening right now?
- Look.

I don't need you to lie.
I just need you to delay.

All right? Forensics goes
to lunch in ten minutes.

So if you wait 12 minutes
to drop that off,

then they won't get to it
till after lunch.

Which means Gus and I
will have time to nab a suspect.

You have to stop looping me
into this stuff.

I am not good
in these situations.

How is it that I'm now
being punished for being honest?

[Gasps]

Hello, O'Hara.

- Lay off the coffee.
- Coffee? What?

I haven't had coffee
in, like, 28 hours.

29 hours.
28 hours.

Okay.

So Sally the security guard
came by apparently to see

what a big boy police station
looks like

and to tell us
we may still be able to recover

some images off the damaged
hard drive

from the security cameras
outside Creech's office.

So...stay tuned.

The killer destroyed
the hard drive.

Why didn't I think of that?

- Gus, this isn't a great thing.
- Why not?

Because the killer
would've been on camera

breaking into Creech's office,

and then we wouldn't be
in this situation right now.

Yes, but I would be
on there too, Shawn.

Yes, but you didn't kill him.

You didn't kill him, did you?

I cannot do this with you
right now.

Do what?

If you killed him,
just tell me.

I can't do it, Shawn.

Everyone is looking at me
like I'm a murderer.

Okay.

That's it.

You have to pull yourself
together.

We have to find Helen
before Lassiter does.

- Now tighten it up!
- I can't.

We have a job to do.

And you actually have
a job to do.

I quit yesterday, remember?

The only one who knows that
is dead as a donut hole.

Now tighten it up!

Fine.

Ah, Burton Guster.
Just the person I wanted to see.

Really?

This is Mr. Murray,
SVP from corporate.

Flew in from Sacramento
headquarters this morning

to attend the in-office
memorial service for Creech.

Mr. Murray,
it is an honor to meet you.

You are one
of the founding fathers,

you're a legend around here.

- Who cares what you think?
- What?

I'm kidding.
I'm not kidding.

[Chuckling]

Uh, what is this?

That's a scratch-n-sniff
sticker. Enjoy it.

Burton Guster.

I recognize the name

but didn't think
you worked here anymore.

Oh, yeah, I represent
the entire line of Alovaticine.

Ah, yes.
Makes sense.

You're the perfect guy
for scrotal inflammation creams.

Oh.
Why is that?

- Keep up the good work, huh?
- Mm-hmm.

I'm sorry.
Who are you?

I'm Shawn Spencer.

I am a singles champion
of hopscotch.

I also use Alovaticine
all the time.

So you don't work here.

Do you have a pass?
Did you sign in?

Hit the bricks, pal.

Oh, no, no.
He's my best friend.

- And he's white.
- I'm white.

Today was "Bring Your White
Best Friend To Work" day.

Did you not get the memo?

I didn't get the memo.

And even if I did, I don't have
a white best friend.

That makes two of us.

Though I am an avid camper.

I'm sorry, Guster.

I need you to copy
this sentence three times.

I'm sending off
a handwriting sample

from everybody in the company

to be matched against the note
left in Creech's hand.

Oh! That's
in your job description?

Front and center, please,
Guster.

I strongly suspect
that whoever wrote that note

is involved in the murder.

- Oh, my gosh.
- That's a shame.

We'll have to--

Just "A-B-C, A-B-C, A-B-C"
please.

Can't be that hard.

I don't wanna miss
the memorial service.

Dorian Creech's untimely death
is a tragedy

and not because he was
a good human being.

Who cares about that part?

But because he was one
of the best salesmen

of his generation.

Where is Helen Blaine's desk?
Take me to it.

- Follow me.
- The sweet music of success.

You all deserve scratch-n-sniffs
and should be sniffing

- to your heart's delight.
- She's not here.

Well, what time
does she usually roll in?

- She's never late.
- Where do you think she is?

- I have no idea.
- We gotta find out.

- I'm so sorry for your loss.
- We're up in Phoenix.

We're up in Louisville.
We're up in Sioux City.

So what I need you to do
is to move forward

and continue to prosper.

We'll do it for Creech.

"D," deceased.
"R," recovery.

"O", opportunity.
"S"...

smile.

Dr. Os?

Dorian Creech is dead.

He's gone,
he's not coming back.

Painful, but it's a fact.

This company needs
a new leader.

Is it gonna be you?
You?

You?

I know it's not gonna be you.

And smile.

So when yourself
getting the sad and gloomies,

sell yourself a smile.

- I'll sell you a smile.
- Suck it, Shawn.

Now, would anyone else
like to say a few words?

- You should probably say--
- Shh.

Mr. Finch.

Neil.

Where's Helen?

Called in sick.

I should've done the same.

I can't watch Finch
go much further down this road.

Oh, that's convenient.

Kill your boss,
and then call in sick.

♪ Sitting in my cubicle

♪ the clock ticks,
and I think of you ♪

♪ I tried to make plans,
you postponed ♪

♪ now you're dead

♪ projects on our time

You think Helen's really sick?

- Not at all.
- ♪ Left behind

We find Helen,
we find our killer.

♪ You left without a sign ♪

♪ your R.R.S.P.s
are now R.I.P.s ♪

♪ all out of time

♪ I just cut you an extra set
of my keys ♪

♪ now there's no time

[phone vibrating]
♪ you promised

Spencer for hire.

Woody!

I think you boys
should get down here

right away.

♪ Never told you, but you look
just like Chris Klein ♪

♪ you were sublime

Let me tell you a little story.

As I was doing my standard
inventory of the body--

stomach contents,
wound analysis, sniff test.

Oh, I didn't realize the sniff
test had become standard.

The body had a distinct aroma,

one that is quite familiar
to me.

It was the scent
of cocoa butter.

Tsk!

Man, you know sweat activates
my lotion.

What have I told you?
You go around smelling

like a vacation,
it's gonna come back to bite us.

Not so fast, Shawn!

I also smelled a significant
amount of Axe body spray.

- No.
- Instinct I believe.

I don't think so.

How badly did you two
manhandle this guy?

A--uh--

All right, listen to me, Woody.

We may have had a little run-in
with the body.

- Oh!
- Post-death.

Post-death.

Gus ate something
that was in his hand,

and I stole his socks.

Look, it's a long story,

but what we need from you
right now

- is man-discretion.
- Shh.

Just sit on this info
until we can make

some real progress
in this case.

Fellas...

we're brothers.

There isn't much
I wouldn't do for you.

I am a vault of secrecy.

- Thanks, man.
- I will tell no one.

Brothers from another mother.

Thank you.

Oh, one last thing, fellas.
I cannot be trusted.

I will tell everyone!
Anyone!

I was already reaching
for my phone

to call someone.

- Woody, you're calling me.
- Don't pick up.

[Phone vibrating]

[Clears throat] Hi, Jules.

Okay, I just dropped off
the mug to forensics.

You've got 2.5 hours.

Please tell me things haven't
gotten further out of control.

They have not.

Are you being honest?

Nope.

Shawn, have you guys
lost your minds?

Yes, meaning we'll need
to find them.

Mine is gigantaur
and soft to the touch,

like a chia pet head.

Gus' looks like a kidney bean.

Ah!

Mahalo, Juliet.

My God, Woody, are you okay?

Happier than a swine in poo.

By the way,
this was all my idea.

I cannot be trusted.

Okay, this is out of control.

You have tied the coroner
to the couch.

You guys do realize how insane
this is, right?

Yes.

You call it insane,
we call it Tuesday.

- It's Thursday.
- Is it really?

It's fine, J, girl.

I got everything I need
and more.

What if something happens?

What if you have to go
to the bathroom?

All covered, a little
something I can depend on.

He's wearing diapers?

Yes, Juliet, he is.
But you know what?

I think Jack Bauer also wore
adult diapers.

How do you explain him
not going to the CanSki

for what, eight years?

- Gus, a snack perhaps?
- What do you want?

Ooh!
Uh, Serrano ham on rye,

touch of whole grain mustard,
and a slice of queso--

anything domestic.
Surprise me.

- We have cheese trumpets.
- That'll do.

Would you be a doll
and gently feed me?

- Thanks, friend.
- Okay, this is too much.

All right?
I'm gonna set Woody free.

It's the right thing to do,
end of story.

Jules, you don't understand.

I know you're knee-deep
in this, Juliet.

I'll sing like a bird
to anyone who will listen.

[Phone ringing]

Hey, Carlton.

Sounds good.
Okay.

Where am I?
Um, I'm--

- Rob Lowe's house.
- Color me mine.

Any cave.

I'm at the-the...
lady doctor

for the--
Okay, I'm sorry.

Okay, good-bye.

Dang it, Shawn!
I just lied to my partner.

You said lady doctor.

Well, I panicked.
I got all flustered.

I have to go meet him
at the station.

He was just at Helen's house.

She's not there,
but a neighbor saw her leaving

in some work-out clothes,
which is weird

because she doesn't have a gym
membership anywhere in the city,

so we're gonna expedite
a search warrant.

[Exaggerated sigh]

Ooh! I think I know
where Helen might be.

First of all, Helen,
good morning.

My God, you scared me.

We know what you did,

so do us all a favor
and stop running.

Seriously, I mean,
please, I'm begging you.

- Stop running!
- We get it, okay?

You can run.
You're a runner.

But what you need
to do right now

- is stop and turn yourself in.
- Yes.

Okay!
I admit it.

I hated Creech so much,

so I put eye drops
in his coffee, okay?

I'm not proud of it.

That's why Creech
was throwing up.

But when I returned later that
night to pick up some files,

I found him laying
on the floor, dead.

I had no idea the eye drops
would kill him.

I panicked.

Helen, what you didn't see

were the stab wounds
on Creech's back.

You didn't kill your boss.

I really didn't kill
the son of a bitch?

No! Now can we please
stop running?

No way! I'm so happy, I feel
like I can run forever!

Don't you say that!
Don't you say that!

Okay. Okay, Helen.
You were Creech's assistant,

so you must know
better than anybody

who might've had it out
for him.

How about everyone
on the sales team?

- Yourself included.
- Oh, no, no, no.

I mean, seriously,
his job paid a million bucks.

- A million?
- But corporate loved him.

He was a star.

That's it, Gus.
A million bucks.

Whoever killed him must've been

the one who was next in line
for his job.

- Yeah.
- [Pained yell]

- Okay.
- [Pained yell]

Oh, great, so...

Helen, thank you very much
for your assistance.

Okay.

I said it once, Shawn,
and I'll say it again.

I do not feel comfortable
being here right now.

Would you relax?

We're gonna figure out
who's next in line

for Creech's mac daddy job

and hopefully get him
to fess up right now.

Well, we better do it quick.

Because I can tell
I'm already guilty

in everyone's eyes.

You know it's only
a matter of time

before Sally gets
the handwriting results back,

and then I'm done, Shawn.
Done!

Dude, you're so right.

He might already have
those results.

Mr. Guster.

Would you care to join
Mr. Sally and myself

in the conference room?

Mr. Guster, please.

Sally here has uncovered
the details

of a public confrontation you
had with Mr. Creech yesterday.

[Chuckling]

I don't know if I'd call it
a confrontation.

- Oh, no?
- No.

You told him, and I quote,

"Say hello to Beelzebub
after you fly first class

"to the fire pits of hell,
you black-hearted,

baby girl bastard."

I don't think
those were my exact words.

You know what this
is evidence of, Mr. Guster?

This is evidence of a man
with brass stones.

I'm sorry, what?

- You're fearless, Guster.
- I don't think I'm following.

You stand up
to authority figures,

and that's exactly
what we're looking for

in a new leader.

Congratulations,
you son of a bitch.

You son of a bitch.

You're the new vice president
of this branch of Central Coast.

Son of a bitch.

Welcome to the club.

[Laughs]
Son of a--

- Yeah, we're gonna shake.
- Oh.

Okay, that's enough touching.

Now, Guster, you're a man
of power here now.

- Okay.
- That having been said,

I'm gonna have to ask you
to tighten it up.

- Tighten what up?
- Tighten yourself up.

Make yourself sing, Guster,

and I'm talking
about the naughty opera.

I don't know what that means.

It means

go live the "you're not
the boss of me" dream.

Sally?
Anything to add?

Yes, I do.
[Clears throat]

Mr. Guster, now that you're
calling the shots around here,

I'm sure you'll agree

our top priority
should still be

figuring out
who killed Mr. Creech.

Oh, yeah.

That's the--ooh!
That's the tippy top.

I'm closing in on the culprit.

- Really?
- Yes.

The handwriting experts
have narrowed it down.

- No.
- Obviously you...

will be...

- excluded.
- [Chuckling]

Of course he'll be excluded.
Don't be ridiculous, Sally.

- You're not part of this.
- You're the boss!

He can murder anybody he wants!

- Ah!
- Yeah! All right, yeah.

- Hey, you're funny.
- You have a pencil?

- Yeah, right.
- I almost forgot to mention...

What's that?

The video surveillance
hard drives

are in the final stages
of data recovery.

Soon, we'll have an image

of whoever was coming and going
at the time of the murder.

Oh.
Okay.

Nice work, Sally.
Thank you.

That's a scratch-n-sniff
sticker for you.

Congratulations.

Go lead the troops, boss man.

Hey, Guster, one more thing.

You're gonna have to lose
that almond cocoa butter lotion

you're sporting.

Frankly, it's an embarrassment.

You smell like a jerk.

Go ahead.
Scratch, sniff it.

Bananas.

Bingo.

I'm having a meltdown.

You should be having
a meltdown.

- Well, I am.
- Good!

- Shawn.
- All right, relax.

- I'm still proud of you.
- You are?

Under normal circumstances,
this would be a great thing

- for both of us.
- Mostly for me.

Sally's moving in fast.
We need to find that killer now.

Gus, follow me.

Stupid Guster and his stupid,
perfect, handsome face

and his beautiful
mochaccino skin,

teeth that look like
they came from Atlantis.

At does someone even eat
to look like that?

Finchy may be our murderer.

I also think
he's in love with you.

He is not in love with me,
Shawn.

This is good.

These prints
are gonna give us our killer,

tie this case up
in a neat little murder bow.

Oh, yeah.

You know,
it's just so satisfying

matching prints to...
murderers.

Oh!

What the hell?
You okay?

No. No, you know, I'm feeling
nauseous and crampy

- and--
- Lady doctor.

Yeah.

Oh, dear God.

O'Hara, you can tell me.

Are you carrying
Spencer's unborn demon seed?

Oh.
Crap!

Guster and his perfect
athletic build.

That's what got him the job.

Makes sense I would--
I would give him the job.

But he could get any job!
Why does he want my job?

It's because he's got
perfect teeth.

Man, Finch is in love with me.

Nope. I am not gonna let
you date a smoker.

I'm not gonna date him, Shawn.

[Phone vibrating]

Hey, Jules.

Okay.
That's not great.

Weird.

Super weird.
Okay, bye.

We are out of time.

Lassie's about to the have
the print results.

Jules is trying to stall him

by pretending to be carrying
Starfish Spencer.

Starfish who?

My firstborn, Starfish,

named after the graceful
and stylish sea creature.

Oh. I like.
I like it a lot.

Thank you.
[Door shuts]

Man, your boyfriend is gone!

He's not my boyfriend, Shawn.

What?

Where did he go?

What the--?

Man.

I don't wanna run anymore!

Hello, gentlemen.
Sorry to bother you.

Uh, hey, Sally.
What's happening?

Look what I found.

Wow.

Just for poops and giggles,
how did you find that?

I did a hypothetical
evidence disposal route

based on the criminal profile
I'd established

for the perpetrators
of the crime,

which led me to T.J.Maxx,

where I bought these boots.

Priced competitively.

Then I went to the dumpster

behind Calamity Juan's
Mexican cafe.

Ring a bell?

I also have this.

Guess who wrote the note
that was clenched

in Mr. Creech's dead hand?

Okay, okay, Sally.
You got me, all right?

You got me.

You know who wrote note
to Creech? Me!

It was me.
But you know what?

I did not kill him.

Mr. Guster,
I know two things to be true.

One, Teddy Fincher
is in love with you.

- Told you.
- Suck it, Shawn.

Two, you did not kill
Mr. Creech.

Thank you.

You crafty son of a bitch.

You know exactly
who killed Creech, don't you?

Well, go ahead.
Tell us who it is.

Sally?
Sally!

What--

Sally?

Gus, remind me what deja vu is.

This is deja vu.

Gus, you realize that bag
is a treasure trove of our DNA?

Oh.

Blood, sweat, tears,
hair, your boogies.

We're gonna fry
for this, Shawn.

Yeah.
Well, you'll fry.

I'll plead down to community
service of some kind.

What?

But I am still with you
on this thing, man.

And if you wanna go
against everything we stand for,

learn from our mistakes,

then we should probably
not dispose of that evidence.

But if you wanna stick
with tradition,

make the same mistakes
over and over and over again,

- then we should just--
- No, no, no.

I'm not touching a thing,
Shawn.

I don't need to.
You know why?

I'm innocent,
and the truth shall set me free.

Hurricane Carter,
I'm proud of you.

I'm proud of me too.

But the truth
is gonna land you in a field.

Probably in Mohab
in front of a firing squad

full of men that look
like Patrick Wilson.

Spencer! Guster!

You two have a lot
of explaining to do.

This ends now, Shawn.

Gus!

Never!

I've got something.
Follow me.

Where the hell are you going?
What are you--

Play time's over, Sally.
Get up.

Sally!

Oh, crap.

Guster.

Sherman, call this in.
Secure the crime scene.

Morrison and whatever the hell
your name is,

- come with me.
- We have a body--

Where the hell are we?

It's in times like these,
our darkest hours,

- I find clarity--
- Sorry, everybody.

Sorry.
Sorry, everyone!

Excuse us.
Sorry to interrupt.

With regards
to this month's sales contest,

first prize is
a Cadillac El Dorado.

Second prize,
a set of steak knives.

Shawn, we do not have time
for Baldwin.

Lassie's gonna come over
in that corner any second now

- and arrest us.
- All right, all right.

It is at this point that
I will give you all closure.

I know who killed
Dorian Creech.

It was this guy.

Mitch Murray,
the sharp-dressed salesman

who gave his life
to this company,

but he was also cooking
the books,

inflating the numbers,
so it looked

as if every branch office
of Central Coast was doing

gangbusters business.

That is completely
and categorically false.

The police have a large bag
of evidence

on level 4F
of the parking garage.

5E, Shawn.

Inside this large bag,

they will discover a fax

of various earning reports
sent by Dorian Creech,

a fax containing
the real numbers.

You came down here
to sweet-talk him, didn't you?

You knew he was
on to your little scheme,

and I am sensing that you tried
to buy his silence

by offering him a job
as starting small forward

for the San Antonio Spurs.

With our pharmaceutical
division in San Antonio.

That too.
But he didn't want that job!

He wanted the sweet big-wig job
you have in Sac Town.

- Isn't that right?
- No, you know what?

I don't want your stupid job
in San Antonio.

I'm gonna get your job.

And because Dorian Creech

is a three-time gold medalist
of D-bags,

he relished the opportunity
to take you down.

So what did you do?

[Groans]

You stabbed him,

three times in the back
with a letter opener.

Are you really gonna listen
to this guy

who doesn't even tuck in
his shirt?

No one even knows your name.

What's my name?

Suck it.
That's my name.

And what's your fatal flaw?

You didn't realize
that one of your contact lenses

popped out during the attack.

This is Mr. Murray,
SVP from corporate.

That's what put you
at the crime scene, Jack.

And what you definitely
didn't count on

was rock star bad-ass
security guard

- Valerie Laverne Sally.
- His name is Leslie, Shawn.

Sally was getting too close,

just hours away
from restoring the footage

on the damaged security
hard drives.

So you poisoned
the man's thermos!

Now the $60,000 question,
is that accurate?

You're darn right it is.

Nowadays,
I gotta pump up numbers

and make excuses
for all you losers

and that greedy son of a sailor
Dorian Creech.

He decides he's gonna out me
and take my job?

Well, that wasn't gonna happen--
not by him, not by nobody.

I even promoted this boob
to lead the branch

so as to avoid that
ever happening again.

Do not move!

Spencer! Guster!
I am--

He just solved it, didn't he?

Damn it!

You two nimrods still have
a lot of explaining to do.

[Grunts]

Eh?

Helen.

Goodness.

I like your shirt, Gus.

Thanks, Finchy.
Thanks.

It's all right.

[Phone ringing]

Psych.

Finchy, I can't talk right now.

Yes, of course
I like spicy food.

What? No, I can't go out
to dinner with you.

As a friend or--

No, I will not text you later.

What was that all about?

Gus' co-worker's
in love with him,

but he's a smoker.

Guys, I've made a decision.

I would like to remain
in the dark

when it comes to the ways
you guys

go about solving your cases.

Jules, that is
a very wise decision

and not just because we are
in the dark.

The true beauty is that you
have nothing to worry about.

Gus and I never leave
anything behind

when we clean up our messes.

[Whimpering]

[Groaning]

Ah!

Hey, guys.

Both: Woody.