Psych (2006–2014): Season 8, Episode 8 - A Touch of Sweevil - full transcript

Shawn is ecstatic when he discovers he's finally been invited to participate in a prestigious paranormal convention for police consultants.

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You...

son of a bitch.

That's right, Professor Stein!

You got bologna
on your face, son!

You got lunch meat.

Right on your face, kid!

Dude, what are you doing?

You know exactly
what I'm doing.

Actually, I don't.

Today is the first Friday
in the month of March.

Okay.



The day...

that Professor Bob Stein,

paranormal forensic expert

from the university
of Santa Barbara,

sends me a rejection letter
to his annual

cutting edge consultants
convention.

Where...

supernatural police consultants
from all over the country

gather for a two-day panel

and all receive major boosts

to their career in the process.

Where have you been
the last three years, man?

Take it, Stein.

Shawn, I just met
the woman of my dreams.



She works at Johnny Rockets.

Pimento...
in your mouth.

Dude, I just met
my future bride.

She's working at a drive-through
at Wienerschnitzel.

Now this is what's up, Stein.

What's up?

Shawn, guess who I met

walking into
the gastroenterologist.

All caught up

in whatever girl
you were chasing around

and creeping out.

But I'm here for you now.

You know what?
It doesn't matter.

It doesn't fricking matter, Gus.
You know why?

'Cause Shawn Spencer--
that's me--

doesn't need
Professor Bob Stein

or his convention of frauds!

Technically, you're a fraud.

If he wants to turn a blind eye

to my skill set
for four years running,

then he can eat
a hot steaming bowl

of suck-it soup!

You know why?

Because guess what I make
from scratch every morning,

using only the freshest
most organic ingredients

local farms.

Suck-it soup?

That's right, son.

Shawn, this is not
a rejection letter.

It's an invitation.

What?

At doesn't belong to you.

Oh, my God, Gus!

I did it!

I made it!

Calm down.

I did it!

Well, Detective Brannigan.

I can certainly see

why the mayor insisted
on me hiring you

as our new head detective.

Okay.

I would be lying if I said

I wasn't impressed
with your file.

It's impeccable.

One of the finest
press records I've ever seen.

Oh, you're too kind.

Look, um, full disclosure.

You were not my first choice

for the position
of head detective.

My former partner
Juliet O'Hara was--

Yeah, I got the lowdown.

Amazing detective.

Intimidating.

Gray pantsuits,
the whole nine yards.

Very big heels to fill.

I'm sorry, are you
doing crafts on my table?

Crafting, technically.

I am just an empty vessel
for the universe to fill

with whatever creative impulse

it feels like expressing
that day.

You like apple butter?

I do not.

'Kay, now listen here.

I work super-duper hard.

And I always go by the book.

I am a team player.

And I always pack my own lunch.

I made this for you

as a gesture
of platonic kindness.

Did you see that?

- See what?
- Ha-ha!

I have finally arrived, Gus!

Look at my fans.

They're so sweet
and respectful.

I'm pretty sure
they're just students, Shawn.

It's okay, guys.

I put these boxer briefs on
one leg at a time.

Shawn, Shawn Spencer.
Hello, I--

Please, no pics or autographs
until I go through the works.

That's slang
for hair and makeup.

Spanx.
Just a touch of bee pollen.

No, I'm Randall Fishbeck.

Assistant to Professor Stein.

- Oh!
- Oh, of course you are!

Up high, Fish!

Please don't play with my name.

No can do.

Tip-top on the crowd control,
Fishman.

I feel good.
I feel safe and secure.

Is there a greenroom, Randall?

If so, I drink
only vitamin water.

Not the sports drink,

just regular Evian
with crushed vitamins.

Flintstones chewables.
All Barneys.

Come on, man!

All I wanted was a minute
with Professor Stein, all right?

I shouldn't have been DB'd, man!

I was wrongfully DB'd!

Hey, Fishfry,
who's the crazy guy?

That's James Earl Craig.

That's the voice
of Darth Vader?

That's James Earl Jones.

May the force be with you.

That's Sir Alec Guinness.

Huh.
I gotta see that flick again.

Well, it is just really sad,
actually.

James Earl was LAPD's
mind-reader consultant.

He helped solve many cases

and was on our panel
for several years.

What happened?

Well, Professor Stein
saw some red flags

and discovered
that he was a fraud.

He outed James Earl
at last year's convention.

It was ugly.

Ruined his career.

Subsequently,
LAPD cut him loose

and he fell to pieces.

Fishtank, let me say this.

If I had one wish in the world,

it would be that frauds get
what they deserve

and not go to heaven.

That and that they're sentenced
to fly around

in those mirrors
from Superman II.

- Shawn--
- Frauds... those dicks.

- Stop wishing.
- Sure.

Okay.

- Whaaaaat's up?
- Come on, son.

Gentlemen, allow me
to introduce

the distinguished Professor--

- Professor Stein!

I'm here!

Let the Shawn Spencer era
begin.

I'm sorry, I don't shake hands.

Afraid you'll be penetrated
by my magical psychic powers?

That, and your hands
are a cesspool of germs.

Mm. Then perhaps we should
hip-bump.

Mr. Spencer, please say hello
to your other panelists.

- Oh.
- That's Hazel Lazarus.

New Orleans PD's gifted
Wicca consultant.

Witch.
I like that very much.

And the fanny pack
is a nice touch.

This is a cingulum,

which houses my incense,
boline, and pentacle.

Amateur.

Hazel, let me just say
that I think

your magical sacred-circle ring
is lovely.

This is a wedding ring, fool.

And Mr. Garth Mathers.

Anchorage PD's ghost whisperer.

And of course, Bernie.

Bernie?

Bernie is
my most trusted entity.

And over the years he's become
my closest friend.

Cut it out, Bernie.

I'm serious.

There's a ghost
on the panel? Really?

Really.

Bernie and I have assisted
on 247 cases since '94.

Wow.

Professor Stein, it's time.

Ah. Thanks, Guppy.

- Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Guppy?

We've been calling him Randall.

Good old Randall,
he's been with me

since he was a little fish.

Both: Oh.
- Okay then.

I will go out
and warm up the crowd.

And then I'll bring you out
one by one.

Shall we?

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Ladies and gents, welcome to

the 2014 cutting edge
consultants convention.

We have an amazing panel
of the country's top...

It's taken so long.

It feels so fricking sweet.

Yeah, sweet it is, but I think

you better patch things up
with Garth and Bernie.

They do not look happy.

It doesn't matter, Gus.

- It does matter.
- Ow!

Uh, hey, Garth.

So how does one go about,
you know, teaming up

- with a ghost?
- Yeah.

Bernie was
a famous bear trapper

in the Kodiak, in the 1830s.

Oh.

He also haunted my
Aunt Junie's house up in Bethel.

Well, that is
an interesting twist

on "meet cute," huh?

Enough, faker.

I'm sorry, I have to agree
with Hazel here.

I'm talking about you!

James Earl should be here
instead of your charlatan ass.

He is a gifted mind reader
and dear friend.

Stein got it wrong.
Yeah, I said it.

From New Orleans PD,
Hazel Lazarus!

Shawn, she just called you
the devil.

Shake it off, man.
Shake it off.

And, all the way
from Anchorage,

Garth Mathers
and his main spirit, Bernie.

Let's do this, Bernie.

- Go get 'em.
- Suck it, Bernie.

All right, listen, man,
this is my time.

Gus, this is my moment.

You may have to hang back,
'cause I don't know

if there's room
on the sofa for you.

There's room
on the sofa for me.

We hope there's room,
but if there's not,

you gonna have to lay horizontal
at my feet, okay?

Or go crisscross applesauce
right in front of my knees.

That SBPD's
resident psychic consultant

is in fact the real thing!

- Take it, it's yours.
- Here we go. Ready? You ready?

Please give a--

- Let's do this.
- Put it in your pipe

and smoke it.

Boom! Aah!

Let me hear it in the east!

I know you can do better
than that!

- Dude.
- What?

Oh.

- Somebody help this man!
- Man.

# 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 #

# I know you know #

There's no shame in crying.

Come on, it's okay, Bernie.

Let it out, man.

Come on.

Oh, would you stop it?

You hardly knew Stein.

I'm a sympathetic crier, Shawn.

It's a fricking ghost, Gus.

You can't see his face.

You can't see his tears.

Now, Brannigan, I'm not saying

I want to hold your hand
through this entire first case.

Hey, you hold it if it helps.

And don't be alarmed
by the balminess.

Bernie, take a seat,
take a seat.

Listen, you gotta get a hold
of yourself, man.

You cannot use this
as an excuse

to fall off the wagon again.

What? Where are you going?

- Where--
- Garth!

- Bernie?
- Guys!

You know what?
I'm not playing this game!

A vision is coming soon

to a crime scene near us all!

Oh, sweet hell in a hardcart.

What is happening here?

Just a regular Tuesday
at the SBPD.

Oh, this can't be acceptable.

I have to corral this.

Lassie!

Uhh!
Lassie!

Lassie, Lassie, Lassie.

- I'm very upset.
- Mm-hmm.

Because that witch is mean.

And the ghost cannot be trusted,

because he has
a drinking problem,

and--hello.

Who is the girl next-door
to your face?

It's our new head detective.

Hi. Betsy Brannigan.

It is such an honor
to meet both of you.

Shawn.

Burton.

You know my name.

Our names.

Of course I do.

Now can I please remove the--

I know it sounds so silly
but here it goes--

the ghost and the witch?

Yeah, Lassie, seriously.

No, you come here.
I can't come there!

I'm serious.
This time, I'm serious.

Brannigan, would you mind

keeping an eye
on the crime scene?

I'm gonna have a quick word
with these two gentlemen here.

- Sure.
- Thanks.

Up here.

I'm just gonna be one second.

Okay, Spencer.

Normally, I would arrest
the witch,

institutionalize
the guy with the ghost,

and not hire you.

- Flattering. Keep going.
- Brannigan has got to go.

Her pure cane sugary-sweet
nonsense

is rotting my chompers,

and I can't take
one more second of it.

Yes, but the mayor
made you hire her.

Yeah, but if she quits,

then maybe I can hire
O'Hara back.

Lassie, you're gonna have
to talk to us like we're five.

- Mm-hmm.
- Don't you get it?

We can drive her out.

All right, if all of us,
myself included,

embrace the ludicrousness
of this case,

then she will realize
that she doesn't belong here.

This is not helping!

Maybe she will leave
on her own.

And by embrace, I mean
that I'm gonna need you,

and to some degree you,

to go from your everyday
drive-me-nuts level 10

antics of stupidity
and kick it up to an 11.

11.

Holy balls, everybody!

Balls, Brannigan!
Balls!

Balls! Balls! Balls!
And tequila!

Gus, I'm trapped!

Bernie! Bernie!

I'm trapped in a bottle
of tequila.

He's trapped in a bottle
of tequila, everybody!

Brannigan!

I mean, uh, Brannigan,

so, are you ready to start
your very first investigation

all proper like?

I am ready to go,
go, go, chief.

Great! Then you can go, go, go
talk to your three consultants.

The thr--what?

Everybody, back up!
Calm down, calm down!

Give the man some space.

He's warming it up.

- What?
- Don't you get it?

We have been given a gift
from the ghost of Jack Webb.

My gut is telling me

that the witch,
the ghost whisperer,

and our own very talented
psychic

are gonna help you
wrap this case up

in a neat, little bedazzled bow

that I'm sure
you can make by hand.

Well, yes, I can.

Definition of insanity is doing

the same thing over and over
and expecting different results.

You know, booze only numbs
the pain temporarily, right?

Excuse--excuse us.

Yes.

I know, we gotta go back
to Pilates.

- What?
- Okay.

Now clearly the ghost has
a soft spot for the bottle,

so I would start with him.

- The ghost, sir?
- Oh, absolutely.

Then you might want to give
an offering to the witch--

just a lock of your hair--
and finish strong with Spencer.

Ooh, who, it appears,
is having one heck of a vision.

- Warm it up, Shawn!
- I can see that.

My, oh, my, I do love watching
that man work.

He made his wormhole,
and now he's resting.

You can tell that ghost that
I will slap him in the face!

I wish you could feel
what Bernie is doing right now!

It doesn't even make any sense!

Calm down! Calm down!

Fantastic.
The whole team is here.

Chief, do you really think
we need all three consultants

in the morgue at the same time?

Are you kidding me?

You have three
incredibly gifted paranormalists

at your disposal.

Not to mention, arguably
the finest coroner

in the state of Califor-ni-a.

There's the Wood-man!

- Here's that vial, Hazel.
- Mm-hmm.

I'm sorry, you can't give that
to a consultant.

Oh, no.
God, no, no.

That's my blood.

You see, Hazel here
has graciously offered

to undo a spell put on me
by my mommy--

ahem, my mother--
years ago.

You can't see the effects.

The magic of clothes.

Who are you?

And are you a fan
of shotgun weddings?

Um, I'm, I'm the new
head detective,

Betsy Brannigan,

and I believe that love travels
at varying speeds.

Well, Brannigan,

believe it's obvious
I have stacked the deck

pretty heavily in your favor
for your maiden voyage.

Try not to let it go
terribly, terribly wrong.

Um, Bernie,

always a pleasure, baby.

Mr. Strode, uh, any,
uh, thing thus far

on your observations
of the body?

Sorry.

No!
Ahem!

Nothing, nothing so far.

I can solve this in a snap.

All I need is
a lock of Stein's hair

and one of his teeth.
Is that possible?

- Got to say no to that one.
- We can solve it too.

As soon as Stein passes
through to the afterlife.

Which, depending on traffic,
could be, you know, soon.

Any chance
it was a topical poison?

I mean, check his hands.

Yes, all signs
do point to poison.

All right, let's keep that
on the down-low.

Excuse me. Care to share
with the class?

It could be topical poison,
check his hands.

- What?
- Whoops!

Ignore that.

Also ignore
that this poison was given

very close to his time
of death.

Oops.

So you're saying
that someone--

Nothing at all,
I didn't say anything.

Come on, Gus.

We gotta beat those quacks
to a clue.

There's got to be something
in Randall's desk.

Professor Stein, it's time.

Thanks, Guppy.

Hey, Gus!

Looks like Randall "The Guppy"
is our killer.

Lassie!

I've had a vision
of who killed Stein.

Wonderful. Sock it to me.

I need human energy!

I need magic head!

It's not enough!

I'm melting.

Brannigan, join the chain!

What exactly is happening here?

I believe he wants to borrow
some of your lifeforce.

Well get in there!

Do you wanna solve
the case or not?

Come on, be a team player!

I'm always a team player!

Come on, Brannigan.

Oh! My power's
coming back, Jack!

Almost there.
Gus, flap it.

Gus, do it, flap it.
Lassie, join it, join it.

You're the cherry
on the top of the sundae.

I do like cherries.

I...got it.

Stein's killer is--

Randall Fishbeck,
Stein's assistant.

How did you know that?

Well, you know, I got
a tip a little bit ago.

And I dispatched
a couple flatfoots.

Oh, there they are now.

Great job, guys!

Man, we got lapped
by the supernaturals?

What are we doing?

You gonna go in there and put
the screws to Randall or what?

No, I'm gonna let Brannigan.

I mean, it was her collar.

It's only fair I let her do
the interrogation.

That's very thoughtful of you.

Let me in!

- I solved this case!
- Me too!

- Bernie's already in there.
- Is he?

- Yeah.
- Shh!

Y'all can suck it!
You can suck it!

- Both of you.
- You suck it!

Plus, since the tip came
from a witch and a ghost,

there's no way in hell this
little weenie killed anybody.

I get to watch Brannigan
publicly crash and burn.

Hmm.

What's it called

when someone's being
sweet and evil

at the same time?

- There isn't a word for it.
- Exactly.

This is our chance
to finally create a word

and get it
in the damn dictionary.

Wait, wait, wait.

Give it to me.

Sweevil.

All right.

Hey, Randall.

- Hi.
- Detective Betsy Brannigan.

So, says here that you worked

for the dearly departed
Professor Stein

for 15 years.

But he never gave you
any recognition or credit?

Not once, is that right?

Yes.

I mean, no. Uh--

I don't know.

Not in any of his articles
or lectures.

And he dedicated his last book
to his pet turtle Beauregard?

I mean, come on.

On a personal note,

that just must make
your blood boil.

I mean, I know it would mine.

You're damn right it does!

Beauregard never did squat!

- What can a turtle do...
- Oh, hell, she is good.

It's gonna be tougher than
I thought to get rid of her.

Bernie's in that
interrogation room, you know!

- What?
- You said he was!

- Oh!
- Wait. What?

Did you hear that, Lassie?

Bernie's in there
with Brannigan.

Would you stop it?

What? He's not supposed
to be in there.

That is great thinking, Guster.

So after years
of Stein's abuse,

you finally snapped like
a turtle!

I mean, heck, anybody would.

So you put the poison
in the one thing

that you knew that
that old, germophobic old man

would need before he walked
onto that filthy stage.

- Hand sanitizer!
- I--

You put that hand sanitizer
into his big furry mitt!

- Didn't ya?
- Yes!

- Yes, Randall, yes!
- But I--

what is he--

- there is a ghost in here.
- What?

And he is not supposed to be!

Chief, I was--

No, the rules of this
department are very clear.

There are no consultants
allowed in the interview room

without the presence
of an authorized shaman.

I'm talking to you, Bernie!

You know this!
All right?

Now get outta here!

Hang on.

Case closed.

Professor Stein, it's time.

Thanks, Guppy.

I'm not so sure
about that, Gus.

Let me ask you this.

- Why would--
- Whoa.

Get up off me, Hazel!

Calm down, just calm down.

All right, now check this out.

Why would Randall
kill Professor Stein

when he was finally
about to get the recognition

he so richly deserved?

All right, well,
thank you for nothing.

That was the lab.

Apparently
the hand sanitizer bottle

tested clean.

There was no trace of poison.

I guess it was discolored

because it had expired
six months ago.

Great. So Randall's
not a murderer.

He's just sloppy and nasty.

I'm not saying I'm angry.

I'm just disappointed.

I'm sorry, chief.

Hey, I think it's time
for an intervention, Bernie.

- Alcoholism is no joke.
- Okay, superfriends.

Can we get back on track
and find me a new suspect?

Especially you.

Dude, if Randall
didn't kill Stein,

who else had motive?

Come on, man!

I just want a minute
with Professor Stein, man!

James Earl Craig,

the mind reader.

The guy that Stein outed
as a fraud last year.

He was gonna drag him

through the mud again
this year.

I can't understand you.

You're slurring your words!

Ames Jarl?

James Earl!

Good boys.
Good boys.

You know
you just heard me say that.

You just took that from us!

There is no way Earl did this.

He is a gifted, gentle soul.

I'm not wasting my time.

I will consult the spirits,

and then I will be at the spa
getting my feet done.

- You don't know--
- Corns.

Dude, please tell me you know
where to find James Earl.

You're in luck.

Randall!

Turn that frown
upside down, man.

We know you didn't kill
Professor Stein.

Really?
Thank you.

You're very welcome.

But we do need to find
James Earl Craig

as soon as possible.

Now do you know
at what hotel he is staying at?

What hotel?

He's totally destitute.

Hmm.

Come on, man!

I just want a minute
with Professor Stein, man!

Dude, I think
I know where he is.

Okay, what is
this animal's name again?

No, wait, don't tell me.

Whiskers.

Max? Princess?

- Pricilla? Patches? Pumpkin?
- Yes! Yes!

Did he just
say "Pumpkin" to him?

- Got that name pretty quick.
- Maybe he's the real deal.

I suppose that's why
I happen to have

a drawing of one in my pocket.

That looks nothing like
a pumpkin.

Hey, I'm a mind reader, okay?

Not an artist.

Then again--
excuse us.

- Nice cat.
- Bad sweater.

We have a very important matter

to discuss with you,
James Earl Craig.

Mainly, how you poisoned
Professor Stein.

Not here.

We can talk in my place.

- This is where you live?
- Please.

Of course not.

This is my place.

This part of the beach
is virtually abandoned.

And it's just temporary.

Brought all my stuff
up here to Santa Barbara

while I try to clear my name.

Is that table from Z Gallerie?

- Yeah.
- Wow.

This stall is nicer
than my apartment in college.

You know you lived at home.

I'm just trying to be nice,
Shawn.

Let's get down
to brass tacks, James Earl.

- We think you poisoned Stein.
- Interesting.

Why would I do that
when his blessing

is the only thing
that could possibly

get my career back on track?

The career you lost

when he outed you
as a fraud last year.

Stein branded me a hoax,
because I was getting lazy.

Instead of reading minds,

I was merely relying on
my keen powers of observation.

You should be ashamed
of your damned self.

I came up here
to prove to Stein

that I've rededicated myself
to my craft.

But I couldn't get near him.

I went to his office,
they threw me out.

I went to his house,

but he was, you know,
shacked up with some harlot.

Harlot? What harlot?

I don't know, I never got
a good look at her.

- Stein's house, you say?
- Mm-hmm.

- All right, let's--
- I know, I know.

I'm still a suspect,

and don't leave town.

Yeah, I'm that good.

Wait, this house was

on the Santa Barbara episode
of Ghost Hunters.

It's supposed to be haunted.

Hmm.

Well, it's a good thing
we don't believe

in that kind of nonsense.

What?

Haven't we proven
on several occasions

that there's
no such thing as ghosts?

- Yes.
- So what's the problem?

The problem is
this house may be haunted.

- I see.
- Mm-hmm.

Man, this place gives me
the heebie-jeebies.

Gives me the drab-bies.

This guy should hire
James Earl Craig

as his interior decorator.

The things that guy can do
to a public can, huh?

Dude, I think Beauregard
is dead.

Nah, man, he's just chillin'.

He's doing his thing.

Beauregard is chillin'!

Dude got to save up his juice.

Mating season.
He's a player.

'Cause turtles'll do
their thing, man.

They seem all slow and docile
under their shells...

What?

But then they stick
their little necks out,

and they're like, "What's up?

I'm ready to get down!"

That's how they talk too.

Professor Stein's bedroom.

Where all the magic happens.

Meaning that this is
where Professor Stein--

Shawn.

Specter detecter, Shawn.

You just got ghost-tagged.

It's an alarm
in case of spectral activity.

You'd know these things
if you'd watch Ghost Hunters.

But you do watch Ghost Hunters.

Yes, I do.

And you couldn't have warned
my ass?

No, I could not.

This is a wedding ring, fool!

- Gus, it was Hazel!
- What?

Come in here, I'll show you.

- I'm not coming in there!
- Start breaking the case.

You must think I'm stupid.

She was having
an affair with Stein.

What?

That's why he keeps her around,

even though
she's obviously a fake.

We gotta get back to the SBPD.

What the hell was that?

Gus?

I guess I'm just finding it
a little unsettling,

all this psychic--

- Chief!
- Hmm?

What?

Have you not heard
a word I said?

About what?

# The spirits have spoken #

And that witch Hazel
is our "killa."

She was shtupping Stein.

He was all,
"Hazel, I love you."

And she was all,
"How 'bout you just be

the professor
of getting up on this?"

And then he was all,

"How 'bout I tell
your husband about us?"

Who we think
might be a warlock.

They're known to be
the jealous types.

Oh, come on, Gus.

We don't know for sure
that he's a warlock.

No. No, I am
definitely feeling warlock.

Warlock.

Okay, so Hazel
was shtupping Stein.

And she didn't want to ruin
her marriage.

So she killed him
to keep him quiet.

- That's our theory, chief.
- I love it.

No, that's a bit of a stretch.

See, Hazel believes in Wicca,

an ancient philosophy
that regards all life as sacred.

So killing anything
would be anathema

to her very core,
don't you know?

How does she know stuff
like that?

- Ooh.
- No!

No, the witch
is definitely our perp.

She's probably already
on her broom

and halfway out of this city.

Brannigan, I need you to contact
air traffic control,

tell them to be on the lookout.

- I'm sorry, for what?
- For the witch on the broom.

Do you really need me
to do that?

If you want
to catch the killer.

Also, put out an APB.

We still do those, right?

Okay, this is exactly
what I was talking about.

The, you know...

Hmm?

Okay.

God, she's on the ropes.

O'Hara's as good as back.

Oh! Just got
a text from Randall.

I bet you that he has evidence
that implicates the witch.

Well, gosh, golly,
you should probably get

over there, don't you know?

It's over, Hazel!

You had an affair
with Professor Stein.

You let him get all...up

under that cingulum.

And then you killed him

because he was gonna tell
your husband.

- The warlock.
- My husband's a CPA.

Really?

I told you she wasn't married
to a warlock.

Let me ask you this.

Is it an automatic red flag

if I take
the home office deduction?

I have no idea.

I knew it.

He's a warlock.

You killed Stein
to keep him quiet.

And then
Randall "Guppy" Fishhook

found out,
and you killed him too.

Mm-hmm.

- Caww!
- Ma'am, calm down.

Aah...

I admit I was having
a fling with Stein.

Nothing serious.

I have a thing
for incontinent men.

Don't you judge me.

Anyway, I just came
to apologize to Randall

for having him arrested.

But when I got here
he was already dead.

You got to come up with
something better than that.

We know sweevil, baby.

Sweevil?

It's just a word Gus and I
created from scratch!

- Mm-hmm. Sweet...
- Equal parts. And evil.

We're hoping to get it
into the next edition

of Webster's.

- You know what?
- What?

That is pretty cool.

We know.
We doin' our thing.

Both: Oh!

No!

Gosh! Oh!

This is not gonna reflect well
on us.

We just need to get
our story straight.

Hazel turned me
into a rubber tree.

And I was a chicken.

What?

A chicken.

Yeah, and when
the spells wore off,

she was long gone.

But I still have the urge
to scratch and peck.

And push out big ol' eggs.

Not big ol' eggs, Shawn.

Well, I, for one,
am just so glad

that you both made it back
into human form

fully intact.

Thanks, Lassie,
we're still ashamed.

Wait, you're serious?

You believe their story?

Why wouldn't I?

He's moving his head
like a chicken.

Well, yeah, there's bound
to be some residual effect.

Okay, I guess I just don't know

what to believe anymore,
least of all my own judgment.

But, I mean, I was sure
that Hazel was innocent.

Hmm.

All right, I'm gonna go back
to the station

and--and rethink things.

Uh, maybe everything. I--

Don't beat yourself up
too much.

We were so close.

Just one more act

of outrageous,
nonsensical buffoonery,

and she will turn in her badge

and run for the hills.

Yeah.

I can't believe I'm the one
that's gonna say this,

but shouldn't we
be focusing on solving the case?

Yes.
Yes, we should.

Speaking of which,
Woody found traces of cyanide

in Stein's blood.

So the poison wasn't topical,
it was ingested.

I'm guessing
it was the same method

used on old Randall.

She's gone.

You can stop pecking.

Look, we need to find Hazel.

Well, I've already alerted
highway patrol

and Amtrak
and airport security.

Hazel's trapped in the city.

She's got nowhere to go.

James Earl should be here
instead of your charlatan ass.

He is a gifted mind reader
and a dear friend.

Actually, Lassie, she does.

Hazel!
Hazel!

We know you're in there!

I got it, I got it.

- What the hell?
- Whoa! Oh, my gosh.

- What are you doing?
- Sorry, sir.

Get out of here!

- As you were.
- Carry on.

- As you were.
- Get out!

- Must be European.
- What?

- Nothing.
- Look.

James Earl's stuff was gone.

You think he went back to L.A.?

Yes!

Damn it!

Must have gone back
to the City of Angels!

Back to his
home-sweet-storm drain!

We just missed him, Gus!

Dang!

Damn it! How'd you find me?

Spirits told me you were here.

- And the spirits don't lie.
- Mm-hmm.

And I'm gonna call Lassie

and tell him that we found
our murdering witch.

No, she didn't do it.

- Shh!
- Shh!

Nobody's talkin' to you.

Oh, man.

- Hazel's innocent.
- What?

She's not plotting
her escape, Gus.

She's in here with James Earl

trying to figure out
who the real killer is,

clear her name.

I like what you did
with the new place.

Oh, yeah, thanks,
it turned out nice.

Pretty good, I gotta say.

I'm the best there ever was,
witchie-poo.

I'm also superman enough
to admit

when the spirits are wrong.

They were.

The only thing you're guilty of

is cheating on your husband.

That poor cuckolded warlock.

I told you, he's an accountant.

What did we miss?

Hazel didn't do it, Garth.

We're back to square one.

Well, yeah, yeah.

What's Bernie saying?

Bernie says he knew Hazel
didn't do it the whole time.

And he wonders where a brother
can get a 40 around here.

What?

You know what, the minute we get
back to Anchorage,

you're going
into a 12-step program.

Calm down, Bernie.

Just calm down!

Dang.

He passed out.

Okay, guys,
can we please just stop

all of this
ridiculous grandstanding?

I mean, look at us.

We are talented
crime solvers, all.

Except James Earl.

Right, he got debunked
last year.

- He did, he did.
- Even the made-up guy.

We should be working together.

Now let's unite.

Like a sad version
of The Avengers.

Let's head back
to the police station,

let's clear
Hazel's decent name,

and let's solve
this damn thing!

You coming or what, Garth?

We'll meet you there.

- Bernie's throwing up.
- Oh, boy.

Come on, buddy.

There they are!

Nice work, Spencer.

Hazel Lazarus,
you are under arrest

- for the murder of--
- She's innocent, Lassie.

- Mm-hmm.
- Huh? Based on what?

A little lotion,
a little potion,

and a whole lotta this.

Yeah, but Spencer,
I do not have time

for your monkeyshines
nor your shenanigans.

I need verifiable evidence.

Fine. I'm sure Woody
pinpointed the time at which

Randall "The Kingfisher"
Fishbeck

was poisoned.

Yeah, between
1:00 and 2:00 P.M. so?

- I was with James Earl Craig.
- At his residence.

Fine. What's the address?

- Leadbetter beach.
- Mm-hmm, public restroom.

Mop closet.

Of course it is.

Can anyone at least verify
your alibi?

A lot of heavy men
in swimtrunks.

I'm pretty sure she's clean.

This whole story seems
outrageously ridiculous!

Which is why
I need you to repeat it

word-for-word
in front of Brannigan.

Okay, Lassie,
may I have a word?

What are we doing?
She's out there.

I'll just--I'll call her in,
and you can say it.

Do you think it's possible
that maybe, just maybe,

you're trying a little too hard
to push Betsy out?

I mean, her name is Betsy.

No! No, I do not!

She is on the ropes.
Listen to me.

I already saw a request
for a transfer

on her desk,
it was halfway filled out!

She's on the cusp!
We need to push her over!

Let's close this son of a bitch!

I need you to kick it up to 15.

No. It's impossible.
It's too dangerous.

Look, any jackassery
above a level 12

and Gus breaks into
Reese's pieces.

It's true.

It's a risk
I'm willing to take.

- What?
- That is cold-blooded.

Oh, Detective Brannigan.

A moment of your very,
very valuable time, please.

It would appear
that we still have

a killer on the loose.

We're here! We're here!

Excelente!

Our entire team
of crack consultants

is ready to go.

At this moment, I would like
to turn things over

to our very gifted psychic,

Mr. Shawn Spencer.

Okay, y'all.

Let us all summon
our collective powers

and make magic
as we have ne'er...

made it before.

Your shoes? Really?

It is an offering
to the spirits.

Gus, I need you on bass.

Hazel, you're on "Uuuhs."

Fugee type "Uuuhs"?

Are there any other kind?

I can do whatever I want.

# Spirits #

- # Spirits #
- # Spirits #

# Sorry to wake you #

- # Wake you #
- # Wake you #

# We need you to tell us #

- # Tell us #
- # Tell us #

# Who killed that dude
and the other dude too #

# And also the first dude #

# Spirits #

Bernie's harmonizing.

# Tell him to suck it #

- # Suck it #
- # Suck it #

He's a baritone.

# Put your filthy hands
in the middle, girl #

- # Middle #
- # Middle #

You too, Brannigan.

# Give me some, team #

Team, team, team,

team, team, team, team,

team, team, team, team,
team, team, team...

- Who are you?
- Oh!

That's recently-discredited
mind reader James Earl.

He's a homeless man.

I love it! You're in!

All: Team, team, team...

Whoa.

Team, team, team,
team, team, team--

- Gus!
- What? What?

Show some respect, man.

Remember, you're a fighter!

- He's a fighter, right?
- Yes, he is.

Hang in, James Earl.

It's okay,
you'll land on your feet.

You're gonna be
just fine, Earl.

What? Tell me?

Oh, you wanna go high fives?

We can go--

Bernie haunted my Aunt Junie's
place up in Bethel.

That and your hands
are a cesspool of germs.

I was wrongfully DB'd!

- Hazel.
- Hmm?

Have you ever been DB'd?

Are you crazy?
Only the frauds get debunked.

- Hells yeah, they do.
- Yeah.

Okay, everybody, back up.

Give the man some room.
Calm down.

He's having a vision, people.
Calm down.

He thinks he's in Philly
right now, but wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait.

He realizes he's not in Philly,
and he's ready to go.

I know who the killer is.

Or should I say "killers"?

It was you, Garth,
who poisoned Professor Stein,

wasn't it?

And perhaps Bernie, the ghost,
gave an assist

while downing a highball
of Woodford reserve, neat,

water back.

The man's delusional.

You slipped into his lab
and spiked his tea, didn't you?

'Cause you knew you were
about to be exposed as a fraud.

Or as the supernatural folk
like to call it, debunked,

or DB'd for short.

Gus, have I made
that part clear?

Yes, you did!

Just like Professor Stein did
to Earl last year,

you saw that it ruined him,

and you weren't about
to let that happen.

Okay. Now Bernie and I
are officially offended.

Well, you shouldn't be.
I put a lotta thought into this.

You figured it out before
the convention, didn't you?

And you knew that the cops
would go after the dude

with the most motive
to commit the murder.

And that was James Earl.

Isn't this amazing to watch?

Yeah, amazing.

Admittedly, it took us a while
to get on to Earl.

First, we thought
it was good old Randall.

Turns out, he just had
"red herring" scribbled

across
his socially awkward face.

He figured out the truth
but he couldn't tell a soul

because you poisoned
his tea too.

Is everyone following this?

Brannigan, how you doing
down there?

I'm doing great, thanks.

You and Bernie Brazenly
decided to stay put

right here in Santa Barbara,

solve Professor Stein's murder,
take all the credit,

and frame an innocent man
for the crimes you committed.

Are you finished
with this nonsense yet?

I think so, Garth.
I think I'm close.

God, I hope so.

We thought it was Hazel,

but Detective Brannigan
was dead-on-balls accurate.

She's no murderer.
She just has a touch of sweevil.

What's up, son?

How you like me now, Bernie?

How you like me now?

And then we circled
all the way back to Earl.

Gifted, homeless,

interior decorating mind reader
that he is,

you poisoned him
just as he uncovered the truth.

But not before he wrote
some pretty damning evidence

on his mitts.

Is everything I just said right,
Garth?

Bernie?

Shawn, I owe you an apology.

It turns out
you are the real deal.

And I hate to say this,

but I strongly suspect
that Bernie did it!

Well, good luck selling that
to the jury.

Yeah.

Brannigan,
care to do the honors?

With pleasure, sir.

Boom!
That's how we do it, people.

Every case, every week.

And sometimes,
we do it like this.

What?
What?

Lassie, you look
positively sweevil.

Well, that might be because

I just saw Brannigan's
transfer request.

It's completely filled out,
just awaiting my signature.

- That girl is good as Gonzo.
- Well, congratulations, man.

I have to say
I feel a little bad about it.

Boo-hoo.

Detective Brannigan!
Penny for your thoughts?

Well, sir, I know
that I have hid it well,

but, um, this last week
has been a little hard on me.

- Really?
- Yep.

Watching you fellas operate
for the past few days,

uh, it's kinda kooky.

And most folks would try and
hide that level of tomfoolery,

but, uh, you didn't.

No. No, we let our tomfoolery
hang all out here.

Yes. So, uh,
I tried to work through it,

and, uh, to the conclusion
that, uh...

it works!

Finally, I have found a place
where I can feel free

to come out
and be my true self.

I place where I don't have
to hide my peccadilloes.

And believe me,
I got a lotta peccadilloes!

No, look, Brannigan--

those are Colt 1911s.

That's what I carry.

Yes, and I got names for 'em.

This one here is Belle Starr.

And this little beauty
is Beatrix Kiddo.

Whoa!
It's so freeing!

I mean, I know
that you probably think

that I am completely objective,

but I'm far from impartial.

I always assume
that everyone's guilty.

Always!

Even if a court frees them,

even if someone else
confesses later.

And at night, before I drift off
to dreamy land,

I've got a wall of suspects

right up there
next to my cat paintings...

because it centers me

and gives me sweet,
sweet dreams.

Brannigan,
I have underestimated you...

and your choice in sidearms.

It's a heck of an honor
to be on the team, sir.

Your team.

Gentlemen, I am home.

- Gimme some sugar!
- Whoa.

Sugar...what?

- What was that?
- Mama--mama sugar.

- Mama sugar.
- What?

You know what?

Deep down, I knew it wasn't
gonna get O'Hara back.

But on the bright side,

I think Brannigan
might work out.

Excuse me.

Lassiter has a clone.

She may be part banshee.

And we have to work
with the both of them.

Man.