Psych (2006–2014): Season 8, Episode 1 - Lock, Stock, Some Smoking Barrels and Burton Guster's Goblet of Fire - full transcript

Now you're probably wondering
how this all happened.
And likely you're blaming Gus
and his obsessive need to go to Pottercon.
That's the Harry Potter festival.
Nobody's blaming me.
And why are you using that accent?
Accent? Bollocks, Gus.
This is my natural tim-bre.
This all started back in Santa Barbara.
The new chief hadn't hired us in weeks
when suddenly I got a call.
Hello?
- Uh, I answered the phone. - Fine.
Hello?
Yo, you've never answered the phone that way.
And why would you possibly be dressed like that?
You're not the only one who gets to embellish.
All right, truce.
Facts only from here on out.
It was Interpol.
Yes, that Interpol.
The one on the DVD warning screen.
We had been requested for a case
in the United Kingdom of Britain.
- That's England. - We get it, Shawn.
Within hours, Gus had invited himself along,
and we were zipping through security
- at the airport. - We were being detained.
And you just forgot to mention this hidden compartment?
That is a Phoenix feather, sir, not a weapon.
If you were familiar with the most popular franchise
in the history of film, maybe you wouldn't experience
such confusion here.
My apologies.
My normally sane buddy
is a little on edge because of the very tight window
that exists between our arrival at Heathrow
and the Rupert Grint meet-and-greet
at Leicester Square.
I am a Grint Grunt, loud and proud.
Meanwhile, I have been summoned
to help Interpol with a case.
You know Interpol.
From the DVDs?
I don't care what you're doing.
He's not bringing a giant, sharp, wooden stick
as a carry-on.
That "stick" is a Nimbus 2000,
a gift the wizard Potter received
from Minerva McGonagall, when he joined
the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a seeker...
which you would know
if you had ever successfully opened a book!
- Gus. - What? I'm calm.
That was the point our bags were removed
- from the plane. - No, it wasn't.
- Correction. - I need my potions!
That was.
18 hours later, missing only our luggage,
we arrived at Interpol--
International Police Organization.
They issue the warnings on the blu-ray discs.
We've covered this.
They're also a band.
Thank you for coming, Mr. Spencer.
You're saving our lives here.
I'm Winston.
I'll be briefing you until my boss arrives.
Ah, yes, Her Majesty, the Queen.
Now, does she prefer Liz or Lizzie?
We were never gonna meet the queen.
Perhaps you were confused by what Wilfred was trying to say.
- His name was Winston. - Okay, perhaps I was confused.
From whence shall I begin my investigation?
Oh, Mr. Spencer, you were never brought here
to investigate anything.
Sounds like a wasted plane ticket if you ask me.
We are in the middle of a long undercover sting.
You bear more than a passable resemblance
to an American getaway driver
in a planned heist we're investigating.
- The Yard-- - That means Scotland Yard.
- They know. - Nicked our driver
- two days ago... - That means arrested.
Will you shut up? Just shut up, Shawn.
Mucking up our whole sting.
We thought we were done for.
Until we heard of you.
Heh.
Clearly my exploits are renowned worldwide.
I had no idea you were an investigator.
My superior asked for you.
Sweet Lizzie. Cheeky old dame.
Where's her office?
His name is Royston Cornwallis Staley.
He's our deputy director.
Apparently you two met while he was undercover.
Take me to him.
You didn't say that.
And it's never okay
to throw hot tea in my face.
Apparently you two met while he was undercover.
Royce Staley, you say? Ha.
Well, first I'd like to try these "crumpets"
I've heard so much about,
and then if it's not too much trouble,
I'd like to speak with him.
If that's okay with you, of course.
Mr. Staley is expecting us.
Spotted dick? Spotted dick?
Three spotted dicks, please.
Have you heard about Pluto?
No.
Sir, they have arrived.
Shawn.
Buster.
♪ In between the lines there's a lot of obscurity ♪
♪ I'm not inclined to resign to maturity ♪
♪ if it's all right
♪ then you're all wrong
♪ but why bounce around to the same damn song? ♪
♪ Ooh
♪ you'd rather run when you can't crawl ♪
♪ 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 ♪
You infiltrated Interpol?
How did you pull that off, man?
This is not okay.
- I'm personally neutral. - No, you're not.
- He's right, I'm outraged. - How's this possible?
Well, after a long and glamour-free career
as an analyst here at Interpol,
we found that the criminal world had become more insular.
We had little to no inside information.
As a matter of fact, we were losing.
We needed a bold new idea.
And I got my first chance to go undercover
- from my boss, Wim Stuyvesant. - Wim?
Well, this is an international group.
We, uh--we don't discriminate against the Dutch here.
So underappreciated desk jockey Roy Staley
was erased and decommissioned,
and the character of Pierre Despereaux was born.
Within a year I was a star
of the international crime community...
performing heists organized secretly by the division,
getting prime information
on the London underworld undetected.
53 arrests. All convictions.
The thefts were all set-ups?
I didn't actually steal any items.
I was given them.
- But you went to prison. - Yes.
Because of you I brought down two kingpins inside.
- I meant to thank you for that. - You're welcome.
- You never stole anything? - Got it.
Have you ever heard the expression "one for me..."
Hello, Rembrandt. "One for you"?
I have.
Fortunately, my side work was under the radar.
Pretty harmless stuff, really.
Or perhaps that is until I got recalled.
You didn't do that alone?
You don't actually think that I managed to do all of that
by myself, do you?
No.
I did.
On the day of my return to service,
we finally received a tip on the mother lode of all crooks--
criminal boss Ronnie Ives.
Ronnie is a brutal thug who pulls off enormous crimes
and retreats back into the shadows without a trace.
He's smart, efficient, and never works with the same crew twice.
He assembles a crew of strangers in a Keyser Soze manner,
none of them knowing each other, and thrusts them
into his meticulously pre-planned heists.
Then immediately disbands the group
at the end of each job.
He recently assembled a new team.
We knew where they were meeting.
That is until the mad American got himself arrested.
And that's where you come in.
- Nope. - What do you mean, nope?
I don't believe it. There's no such thing
as a police-sanctioned criminal.
Look, I don't know how you pulled this off,
but kudos to you. This is all a fake--
this office, that amazing secretary out there,
perhaps this whole country.
And there's no American
crazed getaway car driver doppelganger
who happens to look exactly like Shawn.
Did you bring a coat?
Gentlemen, I give you Robert Fino,
Philadelphia born and bred getaway driver.
Perhaps now you can see why I thought of you, Shawn.
This man looks nothing like me.
- What? - His hair is fine and silky,
as if spun by a fabulous spider.
Mine is a helmet, a perfect, brown helmet
inspired by the lives of real beavers.
Okay. I may not be the best judge,
because you people all look alike to me,
but, although shockingly close,
I don't think he's an exact match.
Ronnie never works with anyone he has met.
And their first meeting is scheduled for tomorrow.
- So why doesn't he go? - Yeah?
What?
He doesn't seem to want to cooperate.
He hasn't said a word.
But, uh, hmm, passes the occasional note.
"Ronnie is going to slice his throat
with a straight edge razor."
You misspelled "razor."
Would you like him to correct it?
- Where's the pride, Shawn? - I don't know.
You listen to me.
You have no idea the range of my skill set.
Let's hope to God that you're a fast learner.
- My name is Robert Fino. - What was your mother's name?
- Didn't have one. - Yes, you did.
I was the product of divine intervention.
- Wrong. You're dead. - Raised by water bears?
Can we at least attempt a woman's name?
- Glen? Mulva? - Wrong. Wrong.
- Rollergirl? - Wrong.
- Starchild? - That's ridiculous.
Have you even read the file? Parts of it.
- Which parts? - The parts that say "boobs."
It doesn't say "boobs" anywhere in the file!
All right.
- Where were you born? - Crossfire hurricane.
That's physically impossible. Answer the question.
On the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art,
at dawn, in a grey track suit, Jack.
- That was Rocky Balboa. - Hmm.
Well, that explains why
I was thinking of punching dead animal carcasses.
Why are you using an English accent?
You're supposed to be from Philadelphia.
All right.
When were you last arrested?
Where did you serve time?
How many--excuse me. Excuse me.
Yes?
How is it that he knows the answers and you don't?
I'm a sympathetic learner.
All right.
Let's start with the simplest question.
What state is Philadelphia in?
- Hello. - Hello?
Wrong. You're dead. All right, look.
This is hopeless.
We have nine hours until the meeting.
We need a new approach.
Please stop playing with the earpiece.
It's very annoying.
Thank you. All right, let's review.
Do not speak
unless you absolutely have to.
Don't make eye contact.
Just find out the location
of the job and get out of there.
We'll have a visual on you
in five, four, three, two--
Good God, what are you wearing?
I hit a vantage store this morning, and I feel unstoppable.
Take off that ridiculous hat.
Yep. Overkill.
- And the Jack. - I can't.
It's signed by Burt Reynolds, and it matches my gloves.
- Which gloves? - The gloves
that Winston got for me.
You're welcome.
He told me you approved it.
Can we keep this moving? The only reason why I'm here
is because I have a Pottercon event
in 25 minutes from now,
and I promised my local potterheads
that I'd be returning with a picture
of myself and Rupert Grint possibly pottering.
What on earth is pottering?
You know, where you jump off something high
with a broom and snap a picture in midair.
You appear to be flying.
- What the-- - All right.
I am now in the bloody bucket pub.
It smells vaguely of sausage.
I suspect someone here is boiling cabbage.
Ask him what kind of cabbage.
Yes, just stop talking.
I am stopping talking.
Look, the Rupert Grint meet-and-greet
is less than a 1/2 kilometer from here.
So if Shawn simply asks where the job is right off the top,
then maybe we could--
Holy moly.
- What? - That's him!
- Who? - Rupert Grint.
- That's Grint. - Where?
- Oh, my gosh. - What? Who?
How do I get out of here?
Wait, where are you going?
You're not supposed to leave a surveillance van.
No one's supposed to leave a surveillance van.
Excuse me, ma'am. Have you seen Rupert Grint?
He's, like, this high. Like, about this high.
Red hair? You sure? He was walking this way.
You couldn't miss him.
Take a seat, Fino.
Sorry I'm late.
Listen up, ladies and gentlemen.
We have a problem.
We have a traitor amongst us.
Somebody has been talking to people they shouldn't.
Parkey, a word.
Ha.
Don't speak. Don't speak.
Don't speak. Don't speak.
Don't speak. Oh, please don't speak.
Please, don't speak. Don't speak, don't speak.
Don't speak, don't say anything. Don't say anything.
Please don't say anything. Please, please, please!
- So... - Don't speak. Don't speak.
Deer-da.
- Dierdre. - Deer-Dee.
- Dierdre. - That can't be right.
- How's that spelled? - D-i-e--
That takes care of the traitor.
Job done.
All right, Shawn, it's very simple.
Just find out the location of the heist and get out of there.
All right then.
Let's say we get this show on the road, huh?
Job's off. Kaput.
No, no, no, the job can't be off.
Make this happen, Shawn.
No. No!
I didn't come here all the way from Cleveland
- for this. - I thought you was from Philly.
I do. I do live in Philly.
But I don't fly out of airports that start with "P."
I know, it's a superstition, but I have some
because I gotta do what makes me feel right.
Here's another one. I only stand
for the entirety of transatlantic flights.
First I tuck it and then I do it,
and there's the ocean.
He is as daft as what they say, in't ya?
I'm dafter. Whatever level of daftness
you're talking about, I'm dafter than that.
I mean to finish this.
I mean to see this through. Now let's do this.
Do you not think I want this to happen?
This job is very important to me,
but we're all one man down.
What?
Not anymore, we're not. I know a guy.
What--what--what--what the hell are you doing?
- He's better than good. - Who?
They call him...
"The Wizard."
Hey. Why the long face?
Man, I thought I saw Rupert Grint,
but it was just dumb old prince Harry.
Oh, that's a bummer. I've got something
that'll turn that frown upside down.
Come inside and pretend to be an explosives expert.
Are you crazy?
You must be out of your damn mind.
What is the big D?
You're already pretending to be a sorcerer.
I am pretending to be a wizard, Shawn.
Get your fantasy fiction right.
All right, look. The crew is a man short.
If you don't do this, Ronnie is gonna call off the whole heist,
and you are gonna blow our shot at being
international crime-solving gentlemen of leisure.
Ah, you know, Shawn, I really would like to help you,
but, you know, I have the opening hat ceremony
and then the Horcrux scavenger hunt
and then the Quidditch tournament.
My afternoon is booked solid.
Bollocks.
Do the job, Gus.
Shawn, do not go sexy beast on me.
- Do the job, Gus. - Shawn.
- Yes--yes.Yes. - No. No. No.
- Yes. Yes. Yes. - No. No.
- I will not. - Where there's a will,
there's a way.
Right here, right now, there's a way.
There is no will,
and there is no way, Shawn.
You should be ashamed of yourself.
I'm gonna make it really easy for you.
Will you do the job?
- For the last time, no. - Turn the job yes!
That doesn't even make grammatical sense.
- Yes! Yes! - No. Shawn.
- Yes! Yes! - Will you stop it?
- Yes! Yes! - Shawn. Shawn.
- Will you stop it? - Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.
What's he doing out there?
- No. No. No. No. - Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
- No, no, no, no. - Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Bloody stomping around out there.
- Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. - Shawn.
- Yes! Yes-- - Stop it, Shawn!
- Will you do the job? - I'm gonna kill you.
- Please do the job. - Oh, my gosh.
- Pretty please do the job? - This guy.
Shawn, why does that guy have blood on his face?
Bird flu. It's bird flu.
Although they call it girl flu here.
- Nope. - All right.
So this is the team.
Our fearless leader, Ronnie Ives.
That's 'Arry.
'Cause apparently, there's no "H" in this language.
And last, but certainly not least,
the lovely and exquisite Dee-dra.
- It's Dierdre. - Dirty.
- Dierdre. - Do me.
- Dierdre. - Deer?
- Dierdre. Dierdre. - Deer--deer--
- Dierdre. Dierdre. - Deer--you're saying--wait--
- Dierdre. - Doody?
- Dierdre. - We're making a doody?
- Dier...dre. - One more time.
- Dier-- - Just leave it.
You're never gonna get it.
Let's move on.
As promised, team, I give you...the Wizard.
I prefer to be called "the Iz."
'Ello, love.
You do that again, and I'll cut off your hand
and use it as a doily.
You don't look like any other mucker I've worked with.
What kind of jobs have you pulled, Mr. Whiz?
As far as my exploits go,
let's just say when I was 13, I broke into the ministry,
I fought off mobs, and once I even got splinched.
Splinched?
- What's that? - You don't wanna know.
- Right in the sack. - It wasn't in the sack.
Shawn, just find out
the location of the job.
So, Ronnie, let's talk about the job, shall we?
When it's going down, where it's going down.
You just tell us the location,
a time, and what we're wearing.
Though I assume we'll all be in black singlets.
Masks or no masks?
I don't know about these two, Ronnie.
They seem like bloody idiots to me.
They don't have the proper qualifications.
Well, what do I know about your qualifications, Deandra?
I mean, what have you done with your life that's so dope?
I infiltrated the highest level of the K42.
Well, I got to the 12th screen of Galaga
when I was, like, seven.
The K42's not a bloody videogame, you berk.
It's a private security firm.
Works exclusively for British royalty.
Oh...
Just having some fun.
Got some questions for you, though.
- Really? - How many closets do they have
in that big old palace?
No, no. Which corgi is the happiest?
Sod the royals. They live a life of luxury,
and my old man's worked all his life down the mines.
I say they should all be thrown in the sea.
I doubt that'll do any good, Ronnie.
You know all those rich kids get swimming lessons.
Mm-hmm.
I like him.
He's all right.
I've always had a soft spot for the mad ones.
But, listen, Dierdre's right.
We gotta make sure you boys are legit.
We don't wanna get tucked up now, do we?
- Shall we move on? - Anywhere you wanna go.
No, no, no, no, don't go-- don't go to a second location.
Where are you going? Wh--okay.
They're going. Start the van.
So we're robbing a house, huh?
Kitchen, south-facing window?
Very perceptive, Mr. Fino.
But I'm not interested in your driving skills.
I hate to be a party pooper, Ronnie,
but I don't think we're all gonna fit in that thing.
So you got two minutes to complete the course.
These cones represent, uh--
Lamp posts and letter boxes.
Right. And the, uh...
- the cutouts. - People.
Sure.
Two minutes you say, huh?
That's a piece of puddin'.
Whoo! Whoo!
You ran everything over. Twice.
You pay me to drive.
Something gets in my way...
it's not my problem.
I like him. He's as daft as they say.
- You're in. - What?
Still not sure about you, though.
What?
Make something go bang.
- Uh, it's not that easy. - That's actually true.
Uh, full disclosure--
the Whiz has a little performance anxiety.
Okay? It's called E.D.
- What? - It's a real thing.
Explosives dysfunction.
You remember Steve Sax, anybody?
One out of every five munitions experts suffers from it.
I'd be happy to come back with something for you tomorrow.
What are you trying to say?
Are you two trying to give us the swerve?
I have no idea what he just said.
Yeah, that's just gibberish, Ronnie. What--
- Oi, boss. - What?
What's that? Look.
That looks like a listening device.
- It's a wizard's wand. - Give me that.
It better be.
Otherwise you two are dead.
What's the plan?
What do you got, what do you got?
What are those, pop rocks?
You're gonna throw pop rocks at 'em?
No, it's floo powder.
What does it do?
It makes a smoke cloud so we can run for it.
- Oh, nice. - Expecto Patronum!
Is that it?
Bloody 'ell!
How'd you do that?
Expecto. Patronum.
Winston!
Winston.
Winston. Dude.
I'm sure you heard what went down at the warehouse.
He blew up a trash can.
Staley really saved our crumpets out there.
Mr. Staley is in a meeting at the moment.
He asked that you wait.
He's very upset with you.
You've done everything he asked you not to do.
Well, could you tell him to hurry up?
Because some of us
need to break into Mr. Ives' office.
- What? - I stole Ronnie's key card
when he was about to shoot you in the face.
Hey.
I don't know how
you Americans operate,
but here we follow protocol.
Now Mr. Staley is in charge of this case,
and you will do nothing unless he authorizes it first.
Fair enough.
We're actually pretty jealous of you, man.
Getting to work with him all the time,
solving crimes, eating meat pies.
Actually, I'm not jealous at all.
Truth of the matter is, I never fully trusted the man.
Actually, I've only been working for Roy a short time.
I scarcely know him. And I'm a vegetarian.
- Wait, you don't know Staley? - You eat pies
with no meat in them?
Like the rest, I came in when the staff turned over.
The truth is, no one around here knows Roy.
Do you hear that, Shawn? No one knows Staley.
Obviously someone knows him.
- I mean, who hired him? - Wim Stuyvesant.
Aha! The Dutchman.
I know all about your non-discriminatory policies
regarding the Dutch.
He's a legend around here.
See that, Gus?
Stuyvesant is a legend around here, so you can suck it.
We need to talk to this Wim Stuyvesant.
He never comes out of the field.
I've never met him. No one has.
Really?
- Can you excuse us one moment? - Hmm.
Despereaux is setting us up again.
We don't know that for sure.
The situation is extremely suspicious, Shawn.
- Admit it. - The only thing I will admit
is that the bubble and squeak is neither bubbly nor squeaky.
- All I need is spotted dick. - Be that as it may,
there is only one way to know for sure
if Despereaux is on the up and up.
Lassiter. What do you want, Spencer?
Hello, Lassie.
I need you to run a quick background check
on an Interpol agent named Roy Staley,
and I need you to do it on the D.L.
Let me get this straight. You just want me to drop
everything that I'm doing to investigate a member
of the international law enforcement community
and keep it on the D.L.?
Yes. Yes, I am.
Thank you.
Stop it.
You are acting like an animal.
You are acting like an animal.
- Stop it. - I am hungry.
I'm hungry, I'm hungry.
- No. That belongs to Nigel! - Come on, son.
- Come on. - That is Nigel's.
All right, I am on Interpol's database.
Searching...
No.
There is no one by that name
that has ever worked for Interpol.
What?
Okay, try--try Wim Stuyvesant.
W-i-m. He's a Dutchman.
Hang on.
No.
Not that either.
Thanks.
Despereaux's setting us up again.
Damn it!
You're telling me Mr. Staley is an imposter?
His real name is Pierre Despereaux.
And he is the last of the famous international art thieves.
Mm-hmm. Our theory is that
he infiltrated Interpol during the staff turnover,
created back story, and then forged documents
showing he was hired by Stuyvesant,
knowing good and well that Dutch bastard
wouldn't be here to deny it.
Despereaux knew that Ronnie Ives
was planning a big heist.
So he used this agency--your agency
to figure out what it was so that he could steal it first.
I feel like a fool.
- Well... - Winnie...Little Pooh man,
don't beat yourself up.
Not over this. No.
Despereaux has hoodwinked Gus and I on several occasions.
How's the saying go? Fool me once, shame on me,
fool me twice, won't get fooled again.
Fool me a third time and... well, the second time
didn't really count because, I mean, man, didn't he look dead?
Shawn, that's not remotely how the saying goes.
I have to report this immediately
to the secretary general.
Winnie, no! You make that call,
and Despereaux will disappear into thin air.
We've seen it. Mark my words.
- What are you suggesting? - Well...
Gus and I came all the way to this exotic island nation
to solve an international crime.
And that is precisely what we intend to do.
Uh, I came here to drink my weight in butterbeer,
and that's what I'm gonna do.
You are an animal. An animal!
Winnie, I'm asking you to please
give me back Ronnie Ives' security card
because, make no mistake, Despereaux must be stopped.
Don't do it.
And the only men who can do it are standing in this room.
- Uh-uh. - One, two...three.
Are you in or out?
I suppose I could remain quiet about this for a few hours.
Lock out his access.
This is what I'm talking about, man.
You see that, Gus?
The Brits and the Americans
fighting on the same side again.
Just like World War II.
Well, hear me, gentlemen.
This time, we're gonna win.
Ronnie?
You home?
Rone?
Tenderoni, baby.
Coast is clear.
Shawn, if Ronnie catches us, he's gonna kill us.
Gus, don't be The Howling 2: Your Sister's A Werewolf.
What we gotta do is figure out where the heist is going down,
turn it over to the authorities, become heroes,
get knighted by the queen,
and then spend every single Thanksgiving
in Sir Paul McCartney's submarine.
Or we don't find anything and we get thrown in jail
for breaking and entering.
I'm too pretty to get locked up
in the Tower of London, Shawn.
Oh.
Looks like Ronnie's pop passed away recently.
Oh, wow.
Maybe that's why he's so angry and cockney.
- That is disgusting, Gus. - I said "cockney," Shawn.
What you should do is find yourself a lady because--
The K42 is a private security firm
that works exclusively for British royalty.
So we're robbing a house, huh?
Dude, I know where the heist is going down.
It's at one of the royal residences.
We gotta get back and tell Winston.
Oh, hello...'Arry.
Whiz and I, we just came by to say hi to Ronnie,
- but he's not here. - Shut it.
Okay.
I saw you lift Ronnie's key
at the warehouse.
I've been waiting for you to show up.
You got some neck, ain't ya?
Trying to steal from Ronnie.
Bloody pillocks. I should take me mobile
out my sky rocket and ring him right now.
- What is this man saying? - I have no idea.
But I think he's on to us.
But I'm not gonna do that, am I?
I don't know. Are--are you asking me?
Is it rhetorical? Is it--
I'm so confused right now, Harry.
We're having that key back.
Sure, sure.
- Uh... - Give it to him.
- Yeah. - Give it to him.
There we go.
Now I'm gonna keep this as insurance.
The price for keeping me mouth shut is your share of the heist.
How's that sound then?
- Yeah. - Absolutely.
Don't give it a second thought.
- Why not? - Yeah.
Are you sure the job is at a royal residence?
Because there are 154 of them that fit our description.
Kitchen, south-facing window.
Yes, I am sure, Winnie.
It has a kitchen with a south-facing window.
Well, that helps...a bit.
While you're at it, can you look up Rupert Grint's address?
- No. - Don't bring out the wand.
There you two are. Where have you been?
- I've rung you numerous times. - This is true.
Full disclosure, we snuck off to Pottercon.
- Really? - Yeah.
It was a meet-and-greet with Dingleberry.
Dumbledore.
You were supposed to be finding out
the location of the heist, not wasting your time
at a convention for silly children's films.
Silly? Those movies are a part of your country's history.
We need to discuss
our next move in the Ives case.
My office, now.
Yep, right now. This is work time.
Uh, Staley?
What?
Uh...
I know we're really pressing our luck here,
but do you think it'd be possible for Gus and I
to drop by the hotel real fast and freshen up a little?
I'm starting to smell like Hagrid's dog.
- Fang. - You know fang
but you don't know who Dumbledore is?
- I know dogs. - All right.
A 1/2 hour.
All right, look. If Despereaux comes back looking for us,
you tell him that Gus got his big toe
stuck in the tub faucet, because that really happened.
And call us as soon as you know which one
of these royal residencies Ronnie's trying to hit.
All right? Let's go.
Man, you weren't kidding, you do stink.
- What is that? - Nigel's meat pie went bad.
That's what you get for swiping another man's meat.
I like meat, Shawn.
Oh, come on. What is this?
Another driving exercise?
When are we gonna do the job, Ronnie?
What about now?
You can drive.
Come on. Come on, team!
Let's rock 'n' roll!
- Let's go. - No.
- Do the job. - No.
- Do the job. - No.
Get in the back of the van!
- No. - Do the job.
- Yes, yes, yes, yes! - No, no, no, no.
- No. - Not this time, S--
No. No.
1/2 mile up here, Chuck a left.
You sure about that, Ronnie?
It doesn't look--it doesn't look very royal to me out there.
This is where we pick up the new member of the team.
New? I thought it was a five-member job.
It is. We have a traitor amongst us.
Another traitor. Wow.
You don't think maybe...
maybe you're just a little bit paranoid, Ronnie?
Just a little?
It turns out old Parkey was legit.
I feel a bit sorry for him.
Now I want all of ya to turn out everything in your pockets.
- Not you, you prat! - Sorry.
Sorry, team.
I said everything, 'Arry.
Ah, just as I thought.
I can explain.
- Ronnie. - Bet you can.
Tell it to the road, 'Arry!
It was Fino and the Whiz!
Okay, we'll meet the fella here.
Uh, you sure this is the place, Rone?
Looks like we got ourselves a no-show, man.
Yeah, we might wanna get out of here.
Gentlemen.
- Deer-dra. - It's Dierdre.
Right, stop here.
Spray the cameras.
Okay, how the hell did you get here?
This was your plan all along, wasn't it?
Get us in the job, slide yourself in the middle of it,
and then run off with the loot.
Oi, what are you doing?
Cut the electrics.
Please, gentlemen. I had to improvise.
Something terrible happened.
Winston was hiding key information from me.
Didn't even tell me the job was on.
I'm having Scotland Yard pick him up as we speak.
Terrible surprise.
I'm shocked, really.
Chap had a terrific future.
Uh, did we just get Winston arrested?
Or worse.
Fortunately, I had time to sell out 'Arry
and resurrect Despereaux one last time
to clean up Winston's mess.
- Maybe he meant well. - Yeah, maybe he really thought
- he was doing the right thing. - Yeah.
Hey, I've got an update on your Wim Stuyvesant.
God, please tell me he doesn't exist.
He doesn't exist.
But he did. Somebody completely erased him.
Must have been somebody with a really high level of clearance.
My guess is he turned state's evidence
and went to go play with the limeys.
So that means Roy Staley is real?
I'm sorry.
Is this operation interrupting your phone call?
Look, man, we have a lot to process here.
Well, now you're up to speed.
Due to this Winston backstab,
we don't have backup for a while.
What are we supposed to do until they get here?
We do the job. This way.
Uh, small problem here. I don't actually
know how to blow up an electrical shack.
But, my good man, you already have.
Dierdre, take care of that interior guard.
Right.
You make sure the backup system's off.
You two, I want you to wire up that safe.
- I'll be back in 90 seconds. - Consider it done.
If we were smart, we'd get back in this van,
drive, leave Despereaux Staley here.
- He's done it to us. - Come on, Gus.
We're just gonna attach a couple dummy wires to the wall safe
and wait for the cavalry to arrive.
Shawn, this briefcase is full of candy.
What kind of candy?
This is weird.
This place has already been robbed.
Uh, Shawn, where's the safe?
All right, something is very wrong here.
- Oh, crap. - What?
That's Calvin Dorchester.
He's been dead for at least an hour.
We've been set up.
Sod the royals! They've lived a life of luxury.
My old man, he's worked his whole life down the mines.
I say we throw 'em all in the sea.
- Gus, they're family. - What?
Ronnie's dad died broken and poor, remember?
Then in the aftermath, Ronnie must have figured out
the family secret.
He's a Dorchester.
- This isn't a heist, Gus. - This is an assassination.
Actually...
it's a heist gone wrong.
You two got killed trying to escape.
He killed you with this.
No, no, no, no. That did not happen.
No. But it will.
- Listen, Dirty-- - It's Dierdre.
- How difficult is it to say? - Very.
There's absolutely no reason for the extra "R."
And there's no reason for you to kill us right now.
Okay, I get it, and it sucks.
Ronnie's dad didn't know it,
but he's actually part of the family bloodline.
Oi.
That's right.
And that dead bastard cut my whole family all out of it.
All this should have been ours.
But instead my poor old dad
had to work his ass off down in the mines.
Let it out, Ronnie.
Just let it gently come out of you,
you know, like a soft song,
'cause we're listening.
And then let's finish the heist together
like three gentlemen and a lady.
Unfortunately, the royals are a little bit harder to kill.
Now I need two tossers to tie this investigation together.
- Tossers? I-- - I don't know.
- Oh. - Sure. Sure.
Thanks for volunteering, boys.
Dierdre, when you finish that,
go and pop the Frenchman and place him by the entrance.
I thought you'd never ask.
Shawn, what are we gonna do?
Gus, would you relax?
Any second now, Despereaux/Staley
is gonna show up with the whole
of the international policing community.
They're gonna storm in here, and they're gonna save us.
All we have to do is keep stalling.
Or as Wim Stuyvesant would say,
Shtalling.
- Dude? - Yeah.
We really have to stop trusting that man.
Son of a...
- Shoot him first. - What?
Okay, yes. Yes.
This would seemingly wrap up
the murder investigation of poor Calvin Dorchester.
Two dead criminals come in. Boom.
I get it. Sure.
But there is one thing
that you don't know about, Ronnie.
- And what's that? - I'm not Robbie Fino.
Nope.
- And he's not a wizard. - What?
- What? - I'm no criminal.
Matter of fact, I'm not even crazy.
At best, I'm pleasingly eccentric.
At worst, I'm incorrigible and sophomoric.
But right now I have all of Interpol on their way here
to save us.
And if you don't believe me,
just check his briefcase.
You'll see what I mean.
Get all up in there.
- Yeah. - What's this?
Curly wurlies! And they're delicious.
I know!
Toffee covered in chocolate, Jack.
Like little chains.
Just about had enough of you two.
You've served your purpose.
I got something really cool to tell you, Ronnie!
Oh!
Despereaux's back. He came back!
Staley came back.
It's been emotional.
Didn't I tell you to stall?
You really are Roy Staley.
- Of course I am. - I'm not sure.
Oh, Gus, will you stop it?
We finally know who the man is,
and he's better than he ever was.
So what about the bag of jewels
we saw you with outside?
Staley. My office. Now.
Yes, sir.
Excuse me, who was that brazen fellow
with the crystal blue eyes?
I'm gobsmacked.
That must be Wim Stuyvesant.
Gee.
How do you say "Suck it" in English?
You just did, Shawn.
I can't believe Stuyvesant suspended you.
My dear boy, I'm one of Her Majesty's civil servants.
And as such I must accept the consequences of my actions
without complaint.
That's noble.
I can't help but think it's at least partly our fault.
I mean, if we told you everything we found out,
- Dorchester might still be alive. - Although not for long.
I mean, he was really old. And evil-ish.
Don't feel guilty, Shawn.
I'd have been suspicious of me if I'd been in your shoes.
Well, this bulldog is the last of my chattels.
If you boys ever get back to London, do look me up.
You'll find me toiling away in obscurity
in some dreary old office, no doubt.
Hey.
- I'm proud of you. - Thank you.
You'll be back on top in no time, Despereaux.
You'll see.
My name is not Despereaux.
It's Staley.
Royston Cornwallis Staley.
And you can call me Cory, if you so wish.
- I'm not gonna do that. - Fair enough.
Shawn. Buzby.
Admit it.
Once and for all, you misjudged that dude.
Royston Cornwallis Staley is a standup gentleman.
You know what, you're right. Yes, I did.
Well, I guess we can finally go to your Pottercon thing now.
No. It ended last night.
Besides, all we have is enough cash for a quick drink
and a taxi ride to the airport.
- Bloody bucket? - You know that's right.
Jolly good.
Well, Gus, at least we got to take in
some of the sights of old London town.
Uh, Shawn, we went to one pub and a warehouse.
We might as well have been in British Columbia.
What the--
Room temperature, my ass.
Are you kidding me?
Wait.
Oh, my gosh.
- Dude, that's the Dutchman. - Rutger Hauer? Where?
No! Wim Stuyvesant. He's a fake.
He's a homeless dude with real urine stains on his pants.
Or he's back undercover
as a hobo with fake urine stains on his pants.
That makes no sense, Shawn.
Breaking up an international panhandling ring.
Come on, son. We were set up.
Or we weren't.
What do you choose to believe?
I choose the latter.
I choose beauty.
It's just like Life of Pi.
It's nothing like the Life of Pi.
Which makes you the tiger, Richard Parker.