[Tapping on glass]
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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.
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
Sync & corrections by honeybunny Resync for WEB-DL by lost0ne www.addic7ed.com
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?
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.
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