Welcome back to The Crock Pot,
Crock-os and other, lesser beings.
Hey, Dean, are you alive over there?
Come on, I feel like a kid again, Crock.
Well, try not to wet yourself,
or at least put a towel down this time.
[Laughs]
Dean and I are here with two local psychic detectives,
Shawn Spencer and Vijay Amritraj.
Now, Shawn, before the break, you were about to tell us
just what it feels like to have these other-worldly abilities.
I mean, basically, you're like Drew Barrymore in Firestarter,
except you don't get older and then get naked in Doppelganger.
Have I got that right? Have I got it right?
You pretty much nailed it, Crock.
[Laughs]
Well, you know, Crock,
I'm the spark that lights the fire,
and I can tell you what time it is anywhere in the world,
except for the poles. [Crickets chirping]
Why don't you liven things up a little bit
and read Dean-o's mind and tell us
what Jonas brother he's daydreaming about right now?
- What? - You guys are crazy!
Oh, you guys.
It's like a zoo in here. [Laughter]
Except for vegetables.
Eh, it's always a bit of a dice roll with venison.
Well, not today. It was an absolutely lovely meal, Henry.
- Thank you so much. - Oh, please.
It's been ages since I've been able to grill for anyone.
Shawn doesn't come around much these days.
Nope, not since the incident.
- More than fair. - Look, Shawn.
What happened between your mother and I
that night was completely natural
- and arabesque. - Oh, God.
Shawn, you saw your parents shagging?
[Sobs]
[Slow-motion] No!
He's still not ready to talk about it.
Whoa, look at that, [Clears throat]
It's time for The Crock Pot.
- Oh, no! - What?
We are not spending the next two hours
listening to Crock Daniels.
- Who's Crock Daniels? - Who's Crock Daniels?
He's like the Howard Stern of radio.
That doesn't even make any sense.
I can't believe you guys like him.
He has the mentality of a five-year-old.
Oh, come on, Jules. He had us on his show.
To make fun of you.
He was laughing with us, Jules,
and you know, he's matured since then.
He tackles the real issues on air the now.
- That's right. - Proctology is witchcraft.
Pass.
Do you fancy a walk on the beach?
That sounds delightful.
You're on with the Crock Pot.
What seemingly important issue do you have that you want...
- Be careful. - It's better this way.
To share with thousands of people
who will immediately judge and berate you?
Time for the Crock to put a bit of money in the bank,
so stay put. You know I want you to think,
but just don't think about touching that dial.
This is the Crock Pot.
Syd! I'm bringing in a live alligator next segment,
so honey up your sack.
Wow, so you're going to London for six months?
It's my temporary visa, it's a nightmare situation.
It wouldn't be so terrible if I hadn't met Burton.
Mm, how is he taking it?
[Clicks tongue] Oh, you haven't told him.
I don't know how to break it to him.
He cries at the drop of a hat.
- Ugh. - Literally.
[Laughter] Yeah, this dude is a fool.
People want to talk, and they don't want to listen.
Hey, hey, what the hell are you doing?
No, please! No, please, don't! No!
[Gunshots]
Was that a gunshot?
It's gotta be some kind of a joke.
Yeah, it's gotta be. It's Crock, right?
- He's up to his old tricks. - No.
No, it was a gunshot.
Somebody shot the Crock Pot?
[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 ♪
7x12 Dead Air
Sync & corrections by honeybunny Resync for WEB-DL by lost0ne www.addic7ed.com
[Indistinct chatter]
Moment of silence for the Crocker, Gus.
Oh, heavenly bearded father of the Nazarene--
- That's not silence. - Shh.
[Clicks tongue]
- Such a bummer, man. - Mm.
Who are the real-world Illuminati ? Find out @ saveanilluminati.com
What time did we hear that gunshot?
Ten minutes into the show.
I remember, because Crock just made his crank phone call
as Willie, the two-year-old telemarketer.
- That baby could sell anything. - What?
Let's hear it again.
No, you-- Oh, please, don't! No!
[Gunshots]
Dude, I--
Hey!
I think I just heard a voice on the recording,
just before Crock was shot.
Is Crock okay? Tell me he's okay!
Who the hell are those whackados?
Those are Crock-os, Crock's biggest fans.
Does he need soup?
She does realize he was shot, right?
What kind of soup do you think she's packing?
Not sure. Something seasonal, though.
Winter bean.
Let's make the rounds, see what we can find out.
[Cell phone ringing]
[Chuckles] Hey, boo.
I'm at the crime scene, talk later?
All right. Kisses.
Okey-dokey. [Kissing]
Man, Rachael can't get enough of this.
I think she can, and I suspect she will.
Gus, someone here knows something.
Where you want to start?
We should start at the top.
I hope he's near a kitchen.
That soup made me hungry.
Yeah.
Ahem. That is my private office.
And you are?
Miranda Sherrod. I own this station.
- Oh. - I see.
Well, I am psychic detective, Shawn Spencer,
and this is my partner, Django Unchained.
I'm not amused by that.
You want to try it again?
I wouldn't if I were you.
Oh, excuse him. My name is Burton Guster,
Ms. Sherrod. We were huge fans of Crock.
I know this must be devastating for you.
You can't replace these kind of numbers.
No, I was talking about as a friend.
Being a friend is not in his job description.
This is a cutthroat, stab-you-in-the-back,
take-no-prisoners corporation, you dig?
I gave Gus fun names.
Like silly, impromptu nicknames.
- I've always done that. - There you are.
Would you stop wandering off like children?
Who are you, and why are you hiding in here?
Miranda Sherrod, owner, and, no,
I am not going downtown to answer questions.
Bert Johansen is my attorney. He will ruin your life.
As you were.
Uh, Ms. Sherrod, we were trying to get
some insight into Crock, his brief history here.
He doubled the ratings of his previous show in six months.
He doubled the ratings of his previous show?
How is that possible, with audience erosion
and competition from Internet and satellite?
Looks like someone here is more than just a pretty face.
[Chuckles] Well--
Crock's success was impressive,
and it drove his competition crazy.
As in his old partner, Dean Ballou?
Dean? You bet your megawatt smile
that he was jealous of Crock.
Now would you two get the hell out of here?
- I have a crisis to manage. - Yes, ma'am.
- She's just mean. - Yeah, she is.
So we'd like to speak to you
about your former partner, Crock Daniels.
I'm sure you heard that he was murdered.
Such a tragedy, Dean-o.
Since we were on the show, we consider ourselves family.
This hurts us just as much as it hurts you.
Ow!
He deserved it!
What?
I hated that bastard with a passion.
Why are you speaking in that ridiculous voice?
This is a serious matter.
- This is my voice. - Sure it is.
And graffiti is an art form.
We were together for 20 years,
then last year, he comes in and says it's over.
Did he say it like a normal person,
or like the movie phone guy?
He bailed on me to take a seven-figure payday
- at that dump hole station. - Seven figures?
Mr. Ballou, I don't know if you know how this works,
but unless you have a firm alibi,
you're painting yourself as our number one suspect.
I was doing what I'm doing right now, my radio show.
Speaking of which...
I've got a show to do.
It's incredible out there.
Thanks for joining us, kids, cats,
and teen queens and guys in blue jeans.
KKSB drive time.
That's my radio voice.
- What a bummer. - [Scoffs]
- Man. - I'm getting a warrant
to search this guy's house. He's our man.
What? There's no way he could have
pulled off a clean murder. You saw the dude.
O'Hara, let's check his alibi.
I'm guessing it's Swiss, as in cheese,
as in full of lactate.
- Lactate? - Hmm.
Crock was pulling in over $1 million.
Man, you kidding me?
Now we know how Miranda got him to switch stations.
I wonder what that meant for the rest of the staff.
Probably a lot of pay cuts.
Which could be motive for someone to bump off Crock.
Well, well, well.
Looks like someone's more than just a brownish face.
She said pretty face, Shawn. Pretty.
Hello again, Ms. Sherrod.
It's your favorite psychic, Shawn Spencer,
and his partner, Burton Guster.
You just threw in the towel on your nickname game, huh?
Well, I thought you didn't--
Gus, what a pleasure to see you again.
- Ms. Sherrod. - Miranda to you.
- Just to him? - Yes.
Miranda, we have reason to believe
that Crock's killer is in this station,
someone he worked with.
And why would you think that?
Because I have had a vision
of other staffers taking huge pay cuts
so that you could bring in a big shot like Crock.
Yes, and they were happy to take less
and not be sent packing. Try again.
My advice to you, and I think you'd be wise to take it,
is to give us access to every department.
I'm talking ad sales, on-air personalities,
program directors.
You know your stuff.
Well, I worked at my college radio station
for a semester. I was a bit of a star.
You fell asleep during your own show.
It was a 3:00 A.M. show, Shawn. I was doing radio verite.
Nobody noticed.
What I'm saying is you're in good hands.
- They don't suck. - They're not great.
Knock yourselves out, but you better make it quick,
'cause I'm about to shut the station down.
Both: What? - Uh, Ms. Sherrod,
I realize that your staff is small,
and while my talents are prodigious,
it will take me some time to vet them all.
Without Crock, I have nothing,
and I can't keep putting these other morons on the air.
Well, why don't you bring in some new blood?
And what do you suggest I do?
Just pluck someone off the street?
Good morning,
Santa Barbs!
[Cow bell tap]
Hell, you've just been S-bagged...
[Cow bell tap] on Santa Barbara's newest
and most potent morning show, Spence-Air!
Look, whoever this is, I'm coming down there,
and I am [bleep]ing you up for [bleep]ing prank-calling me!
Wait a minute.
- Shawn? - Oops.
You [bleep]ing idiot! [Click]
That's what it sounds like to be bald, angry, and divorced...
[Cow bell tap]
with nipples like elephant darts.
- [Laughs] - We'll be right back,
- after we pay some bills. - [Laughs]
Phew!
Man, I'm exhausted.
I guess, now that we have the first hour under our belts,
it'll get easier, huh?
- Sea legs, and whatnot. - Hour?
You've been on for seven minutes.
What? We have 4 hours and 53 minutes to go?
Talk about your personal life. Listeners love that stuff.
Yeah. Yeah, what Syd said,
expose myself, open up, get personal.
Welcome back, Santa Barbara.
You guessed it, it's time to get personal.
[Cow bell tap]
Uh--
Hey, Gus, how do you feel about your girlfriend
heading back to the U.K. for six months?
What? Rachael's heading overseas?
Juliet told me. I assumed you already knew.
Juliet knows? And now, so does all of Santa Barbara.
Why is she leaving? Why hasn't she told me?
That's not the mute button...
and you have a call.
We have a Rachael from Santa Barbara.
No, no, no. No, Shawn, do not take that call!
You deserve an explanation.
Not on the ra--
not on the radio!
Rachael from Santa Barbara, you're live on Spence-Air.
Gus? We need to talk.
I don't have anything to say, Rachael.
Buddy, that's just bad radio.
I don't care.
My life is not fodder for your show, Shawn.
I'm not going to use my pain to fill air time.
Rachael, how could you do this to me?
Is this about Max's dad?
Only going back to sort out some immigration issues.
- [Scoffs] - Gus, that relationship
- is long over. - [Scoffs]
I'm with you now.
You've nothing to be afraid of. Do you hear me?
You stay classy, Santa Barbara.
Thanks for spending your morning with me!
Spence-Air, out.
Man, I can't believe I just to confessed
to all of Santa Barbara that I make love with my socks on.
You sure did.
Hey, guys, I'm going to take off.
I just wanted to say thank you.
Thank us? For what?
Oh, for not asking me to measure my junk
or crank-calling my birth mom on the air.
What are you talking about?
That was always Crock's move.
He did whatever he could to humiliate me for laughs.
You were okay with that?
No, but what could I do?
Pop a couple caps in him
and pretend someone knocked me out?
[Laughs] Syd, that's--
- That's...dark. - No.
Dude, did that man just confess to us?
No. It's way too easy.
We should talk to the other employees.
Yeah, all right.
I'm filing him under "Suspect number one."
[Knocking at the door]
Hello?
- Dang! - Whoa.
This guy Redd kills a lot of stuff, Shawn.
It certainly explains why my dad
likes his outdoors show so much.
Hey, beaver. Look at ya.
Nature's engineer.
You don't belong stuffed in somebody's office.
Maybe Redd needs a taste of his own medicine,
see what it's like being stalked and hunted.
Just name the time and the place.
Whoa, hey, Redd Herring.
[Chuckles] I am radio personality, Shawn Spencer,
and this is--
The man who's gonna hunt me.
Son...
do you really think you have what it takes
to track me down and shoot me?
Uh, Redd, did you kill Crock?
[Laughs] If I wanted to kill Crock...
I wouldn't have missed.
Fair point. That's fair.
But were you angry with him?
Because you did have to take a pay cut when he came on board.
And, um, are you sure you didn't kill Crock?
Well, I did have to take a teeny pay cut,
but most of Crock's salary come out of Miranda's bird bag.
She just used Crock to boost her ratings
till she could sell the station to clear channel
and make her money back, but the deal fell through.
- Really? - Deal fell through?
- Good talk, Redd. - Great talk.
- Good-bye forever. - See you
in my recurring Hunger Games nightmare.
Dude, Miranda had motive to kill Crock.
Once the station didn't sell,
she was on the hook for the rest of his deal.
We gotta put the nails to her.
How? She knows we're investigating.
She'll see us coming a mile away.
If only we knew someone with a megawatt smile.
- He could get her from behind. - What?
You know, slip in beneath her guard
- with his gorgeous face. - Man!
[Doorbell dings]
[Sighs]
Hi. Our dinner reservation is at 8:00.
We will arrive in separate vehicles.
Once there, we will converse about business only.
After our meal, we will shake hands
and drive away separately.
I see.
You're like a more agitated Blair Underwood,
but I have a counteroffer.
We stay here. I cook you a jerk chicken dinner
wearing this.
Counter-counteroffer. Jerk chicken, no apron,
we talk about what's going on at the station.
Counter-counter-counteroffer. Jerk chicken,
apron on top of dress, option to bend over only as needed.
Deal.
Oh, gosh.
So this deal with Crock
was the largest talent acquisition
you ever made, right?
- Mm-hmm. - Hmm.
Mm-mm.
I like how you know your way around a chicken leg.
Mm-hmm.
How do you do with the human kind?
Um...
as I was saying,
if all your assets were wrapped up at the station,
you'd be in some pretty hot water
if a business deal suddenly went south.
You're talking about the clear channel deal?
But Crock's death makes his contract void, am I correct?
Oh.
You think I killed him just to get out of the money I owe?
[Scoffs] Wh--?
Uh, uh,
well, hold on. Hold on. Hold on, now.
Miranda, Miranda, Miranda, calm down.
No one said anything about anybody killing anybody.
I love that you think that I could be so cunning,
so calculated that I could pull off the perfect murder.
I didn't say "perfect."
It would be if I did it.
- Interrogate me, Burton! - What?
Turn the screws. See if I'll break.
Uh, where were you the night of the murder?
- Faster. - Uh, where were you
- the night of the murder? - Slower.
Where were you... the night of the murder?
You're not attracted to me, are you?
Well, no, that's not it.
That's rhetorical. Of course, you are.
Look, I'm in a relationship, Miranda, a real one,
and not just one with God.
Rachael and I have our issues, yes,
but we are committed to making it work.
You have sex with your socks on
because your toes get cold. Isn't that right?
Yes! [Whimpers]
See--see, here's your problem, Miranda.
Some men--evolved men-- seek a chase, seek romance.
I am one of those men. I believe in slow seduction.
I believe in feeding each other poached eggs in bed
and leaving love notes squeegeed on the shower door.
I believe in writing
the soundtrack to each other's lives.
I believe I can fly.
What?
I believe in making my woman my queen.
Well, Shawn, I have good news and bad news.
You know I'm bad news first
ever since we saw Prometheus on opening night.
I had to endure some serious sexual harassment last night.
Miranda actually wanted to be interrogated.
- How is that the bad news? - That's not the bad news.
The bad news is that she made a decision to cancel your show.
- What? - Yup.
Come on, son, I was only on for a day!
The radio game is brutal.
Sure is. Ain't that a--
Well, what's the good news?
She found a replacement.
[Slurps coffee]
Ahh.
Awwww, yeeeaaah.
Santa Barbara, you are now entering the Smooth Storm.
[Thunder effects] KJAD's new after-dark talk.
I'm your host, a player named Gus.
Now sit back and chillax with me,
as I take you on a funky ride.
If you don't scream, well, I sure enough won't holler.
[Chuckles] You feel me, White Chocolate?
Seriously, you're gonna do "A Player Named Gus?"
Man, you couldn't even stay awake
doing this shtick in college!
Miranda has a vision for me, Shawn.
Yeah, you, standing naked, posing like Captain Morgan.
She still believes I know women and how they operate
and what it means to touch someone.
I have the power to touch people, Shawn.
She probably killed Crock Daniels.
Well, until we know for sure...
why don't we open up these call lines
for all you lovers out there?
We have long-time caller, Laura, on line one.
What? He actually has a caller?
Awwww, yeeeaaah.
L-Boogie. Why don't you tell a player named Gus
what's on your mind?
I've always listened to KJAD,
and I was a big fan of The Crock Pot show,
but after hearing your smooth voice,
I knew I had to be the first to call and say hello.
Well, I like how you sound, girl.
[Chuckles] I like how you sound too.
[Chuckles]
What is your relationship situation?
Well, L-Boogie, I do have a special friend.
Oh, does that mean I can't have a hug?
[Laughs]
I tell you what, this is me hugging you over the airwaves.
Mmm. Mmm.
[Chuckles] You feel that?
Hey, maybe I should come on down.
Uh, A Player Named Gus is going to take another call
as quick as he can, so you hang right there, Laura.
- I'll be waiting. - Right now,
we have Jalinda on the line.
[High-pitched] Oh, hi. My name is Jalinda.
And I was just wondering
if this is the same player named Gus
who back at Camp Tiki-Hama had to use rubber sheets,
because every night, he would water-log his mattress.
Uh, people out there, A Player Named Gus was five,
you dig? And then he discovered he had a shy bladder.
[Giggles] Well, that makes me feel funny.
Jalinda, you keep on talking right there, all right?
Is this the same Player Named Gus
that used to run so hard and so fast
in his squishy boots at the playground,
that once he tripped and sprained his ding-ding?
Dude, what are you doing?
What am I doing? I'm investigating.
What are you doing?
What I was born to do, Shawn.
Yeah, well, while you're exercising your birthright,
I found this.
Miranda's worth over $8 million in assets alone,
and she owns three El Pollo Locos.
Really? Which ones?
The one with the really huge salsa bar?
Man, you know they all have big-ass salsa bars.
Wait a second, that means Miranda most definitely
didn't kill Crock over the clear channel deal.
No kidding, Bruce Wayne.
First rule of radio,
someone actually has to be on the air.
- You're filthy rich. - And just plain filthy.
Why didn't you just clear your name last night?
What, and miss the opportunity
to have you turn the screws to me?
Now, will you two get back on air?
L-Boogie, you still there?
Of course, I'd wait all day.
Awwww, yeeeaaah.
[Cow bell taps]
Are you sure you don't want a walk to your car?
[Chuckles] Very.
- Stellar debut, Gus. - Shut up.
Thank you for everything.
You're welcome. [Chuckles]
[Keys drop on the ground]
[Gunshot]
[Screams]
- [Whimpering] - Come on, Gus.
Come on, buddy, breathe. In through your nose
- and just--just breathe. - [Whimpers]
All right, nobody got a look at our shooter,
but we do have the security video from the parking lot.
Just downloaded it from the main server.
- Oh. - Nice, Syd, nice.
Okay.
[Screaming]
That must have been when I fainted.
This is when Miranda found him and gave him mouth-to-mouth.
- She what? - Hmm.
I'll fast-forward this. This goes on for a little while.
Uh, yeah, just--
Mouth-to-mouth.
- Mouth-to-mouth. - All right, okay.
Your little legs are just
kicking all over the place there.
I'll tell you what, Gus, I think we can probably
- take it from here. - Yeah.
Why don't you, uh, why don't you clear your head
- and rinse and spit. - Okay.
[Wincing]
- Should I be worried? - What, about that? No.
She just thought my condition was worse than what it was.
- I'm sure she did. - Yeah.
- Come on, let's get you home. - Okay.
So I think it's safe to assume whoever took a shot at Gus
also killed Crock.
Why is it safe to assume that?
I mean, I was on the air first, nobody tried to kill me.
What's the difference between my show and his show?
Where to start? Um, Gus was good.
- What? - Gus had callers.
Come on, Syd.
I have a link between Gus and Crock.
It is a caller, and her name is Laura.
She was the president of Crock's Fan Club.
Odd duck. Nice cans.
Which means she would have known the station well enough
to get in, kill Crock, and get out without being seen.
You got all that from her cans?
Rumor was, she and Crock had a fling at one point.
- [Whistles] - Ooh, think maybe
she was a jilted lover who was out for revenge?
It's worth checking 'em out.
Her. It's worth checking her out.
- I know what you meant. - Wow, guys, wow.
[Laughs]
- Have a seat. - Thank you.
So we are investigating the murder of Crock Daniels,
and we'd like to talk to you about the dozens of calls
you made to The Crock Pot show.
Don't touch those. Those are Crock's jelly beans.
I was a big fan girl of his. We made out once.
I was devastated when he was killed on the air.
- Hmm. - Uh-uh!
You also made numerous calls in to the Smooth Storm,
right before someone tried to kill its host.
What? Is A Player Named Gus okay?
Oh, my God.
He's fine.
By the way, his name is just "Gus,"
and he wears footy pajamas,
and he gets gout, like, three times a year.
- Oh! - I'm serious,
we call him "Burton Gout-ster."
[Laughing]
Laura, right now, you are the common link
between these two incidents.
Listen, I call in to plenty of radio shows.
Ever since my parents died,
it's just kinda lonely
in this big, old house all by myself.
Mm, don't care. Where were you last night,
and also at the time of Crock's murder?
Right here,
making shirts and buttons and pudding and things.
Pudding.
Awwww, yeeeaaah.
That's a monumental waste of your time.
Do you mind if I take a look around your house?
Oh, no. To be honest,
I thought you were here to talk to me about Bob.
- Who's Bob? - My stalker.
Um, isn't that sort of like a bird eating another bird?
That happens all the time.
Shh. Sweetheart, I thought we agreed
that birds were my thing.
Bob is this guy who used to hang out
at my local coffee shop, Latte Da.
He once bought me a muffin.
Anyway, he started showing up at the places I go to regularly,
and I was nice to him, but he took it the wrong way.
Does Bob have a last name?
Don't know it. Don't want to know it.
He freaked me out.
He also somehow got my phone number
and started calling me.
[Deep voice] "Hi, Laura, why weren't you at coffee today?
Too busy on the radio?"
The eggheads down at the department
said they pulled a gravelly voice
off the recording of Crock's last show.
Could you describe this Bob to a sketch artist?
Of course, absolutely. That's neat.
What? I decided to stop hatin'.
This is the sketch artist's rendition of Bob,
based on Laura's description.
Could this guy look any more
like a stereotypical comic book villain?
Great, thanks guys.
So listen to this-- a guy named Bob
called in to the Crock show a few weeks ago
and had some choice words for him,
right after a long on-air exchange with Laura.
The tech lab guys just matched
the gravelly voice from the recording of Crock's murder
with Bob's voice from a few weeks ago.
That's fantastic. Somewhere in Bob's deluded mind,
he thought he'd have a chance with Laura
if he eliminated all the people that she adores,
first by killing Crock...
Then by trying to kill Gus.
I bet you Bob will strike again the next time
he hears Laura gushing over someone--anyone on-air.
A sting.
No, we should set a trap.
We should create a situation that seems like one thing,
and then... [Squeaks] spider fly.
But who do we use as bait?
Awwww...
Yeeeaaah.
Santa Barbara,
you are entering the Smooth Storm.
[Thunder effects] Can love lightning
be caught in a man bottle?
The answer when we return after this commercial break.
[Chuckles]
- Nice. - [Sobbing] No.
No! No! No! No! No! I can't do it.
The man is a living comic book villain, Shawn!
I know, it's ridiculous,
but you gotta relax.
You're wearing a bulletproof vest.
We got you covered here. Isn't that right, Lassie?
Well, yeah, provided Guster sticks to the plan
and doesn't screw up.
We got the perimeter of the station monitored,
and the phone lines are tapped.
- We'll get this bastard. - You see?
You are safe and sound.
Now, remember, when Laura calls in,
you keep her on the line as long as you can.
You make it hot, you make it wet,
you make it smooth.
- Hot, wet, and smooth. - That's right.
We gotta get Bob all riled up, so he tries to kill you again.
You're not helping, Shawn!
We're back in five, four, three--
[Laughs]
And the answer is in.
Love lightning can be caught in a man bottle,
and the label reads, "A Player Named Gus."
So call if you've got a story of electric love.
That's our cue.
[Dials on phone]
We have Laura on line one.
This is go time.
I don't have a story of electric love,
but I do have a fantasy of one...
with you, A Player Named Gus. [Giggles]
Ohh, baby!
Well, A Player Named Gus has 100,000 volts of love for you,
and my currents run deep, if you know what I mean.
What do you mean?
Really, Shawn?
You're gonna choose now to something about anything?
Well, when can I see you, so we can blow up the power grid?
Yeah, I'm, uh, just-- I'm going to another room.
Somebody call con Edison and prepare for a blackout
'cause A Player Named Gus and Laura
are gonna make the lights go out in this city.
Awwww, yeeeaaah.
Hey, you can't go in there.
Your boyfriend's helping with a police sting.
He didn't mention anything to me about a sting.
Obviously, there are a lot of things
he hasn't mentioned to you.
- [Scoffs] - Hey!
I just said you can't go in there.
- Oh, you didn't. - Oh, yes, I did.
What are you gonna do about it?
- Oh-- - What?
What are you gonna do about it?
Oh, missy, no. I'm going to push you back.
Make a wish! [Cow bell taps]
- Oh! - Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Rachael! What has gotten into you?
[Sighs] I know I said I was okay,
and I'm absolutely not freaking out,
but I'm not okay, and that's why I came down here.
I'm nervous and clearly a little jealous,
especially if this man-eating trollop
tries to shoplift you the second I board that plane!
- What did she just call me? - Ladies,
this is not the way to handle this.
Rachael, you are British and sophisticated.
Miranda, you are rich
and...gosh! But look,
as much as this would check an item off of my bucket list,
you two cannot fight.
I just have more to say, and I think,
if I don't lay it out, I don't believe we'll make it,
and I so badly want us to make it, Gus.
Me too, boo, and we'll talk, I promise,
but right now, I have to go
flirt my butt off with some white women
and get a comic book villain to shoot me.
Play nice.
Guys, we have Bob on line one.
Be tough, man. Don't be weepy-boy Santos.
All right, Guster, keep him on the line.
We need 30 seconds more for the trace.
Awwww, yeeeaaah, Bob.
Tell A Player Named Gus what's on your mind.
I've been listening to you trying to smooth-talk Laura.
She doesn't want someone like you.
Keep him talking. We almost got him.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, Bob. Calm down.
I think Laura has made it clear
the kind of person she wants and who she doesn't.
Ooh-ooh!
Almost there.
Got him.
Oh, no.
[Phone ringing]
- O'Hara. - O'Hara, we traced Bob's call.
He's headed towards you. We got it wrong.
He's making his move against Laura.
Got it.
Okay, Bob's nearby.
[Whines]
Stay put.
[Glass breaking]
Ugh!
So you got that? Cool.
Jules! Oh, dear, dear goodness.
- Are you okay? - What?
Here, sit. Sit in this chair, it has a cushion.
Look, I...am...here...
for...you.
Oh, my God, you think I have brain damage?
There's a good chance that you do,
but I will not abandon you.
Why don't you have a seat, miss?
We found her about three blocks away,
hiding in some bushes. She ran out the back door.
You sure you're okay, O'Hara?
Oh, considering I let the guy get the jump on me,
oh, yeah, I'm just aces.
Oh, don't be so hard on yourself.
We've all had our clocks cleaned by a perp at least once.
Except for me, of course.
- Lassie! - Dude.
Did you I.D. your assailant?
- Was it Bob? - The perp hit me from behind.
I didn't get a face.
I just can't understand how he got
through that little window.
You're sure you locked down the entire house?
Of course I did! I'm not a total moron.
And even if you were, I would clean up your messes.
Gus, I need to talk to you in the bathroom.
What? You must be out of your damn mind.
Dude, I just need your expertise for a second.
- Now, come on. - I don't care.
Stand if it's one, sit if it's two.
That's all you're getting from me, Shawn.
I don't need to use the bathroom, just--
I'm not going to the bathroom with you.
[Overlapping bickering] I don't care.
I can't have this conversation in front of everybody!
That's--that's-- fine!
Excuse me.
Man, this is weird, Shawn, even for you.
- Where are you going? - What?
We didn't really come up here to cross streams, Gus.
I have a hunch.
Oh.
You think we're back at Camp Tiki-Hama?
Come on, son.
- Whoa. - Dude.
Laura's an addict, Gus, a real pill popper.
I wonder what else she's involved in.
Murder, perhaps?
These drugs aren't recreational, Shawn.
You can't take these in a park or an arcade?
These are antidepressants,
mood stabilizers, antipsychotics.
These are for a serious condition.
What condition?
Jules! Oh, Jules.
Jules, can you understand me, sweetheart?
Were you with Laura when she called in to Gus's radio show?
No, I was rechecking all the doors and windows.
And where was Laura when you were attacked
and almost turned into a delightful dimwit
with no control over your faculties?
Uh, she was in the next room.
Well, I'm sensing that Crock's killer,
who is also Juliet's attacker, is right here in this room.
That's what you two nimrods came up with in the crapper?
That the perp is one of us?
Not one of us.
One of her.
- Laura? - Yup.
Laura is Bob, and Bob is Laura,
and who knows how many other personalities
you have swimming around in your cute but crazy,
Aimee Mann-looking face. Am I right?
Yes and no. Yes, I've had problems in the past,
but I take my meds religiously.
I'm in a really good place.
Maybe Laura's in a good place,
but Bob is an Eli Roth movie.
He flipped and killed Crock,
and he did it all on the cheap in Romania.
There is a Bob! A real Bob!
Yeah, and pigs fly.
I knew it!
- What? - Look.
As far as Crock knew,
it was Laura who came to the studio that day.
He had no reason to be alarmed.
It was just a visit from his number one fan
who he used to make the spanky-tank-pank dance with,
but that day, you were Bob,
and Bob was jealous of Laura's relationship with Crock,
so he killed him.
Hey! What the hell are you--?
No! Please, don't!
No! [Gunshots]
It was you, as Bob, who called in to Gus's radio show,
which is why Lassiter traced the call back to this area.
And it was you, as Bob, who attacked Juliet,
tried to turn her into the other sister.
Laura, Bob, whoever else is in there,
we're gonna have to head down to the station
- before we can clear this up. - Let's go.
Phew!
What?
I have to say, these last two days in our relationship
- were pretty rough. - Well,
I guess we both flipped out a bit, didn't we?
Yeah.
But we can handle this separation thing, right?
Oh, yeah. Definitely.
- Don't you think? - Absolutely, yes. No doubt.
[Car horn honks]
- Well, that's my taxi. - Yeah.
Look, no matter what happens,
I'm so happy for these last few months I've had with you.
And trust me,
I will count down the next six months like a stopwatch.
Um, call me when you land, so I know you got there safely.
Except it will be in the middle of the night there.
Oh, yeah. Well, send me a text, or email me.
You know, if you get the chance.
I will.
I'll see you in six months.
I'll be here.
[Knocking at the door]
[Whimpers]
Bob?
Ugh!
O'Hara, so here's some strange news.
I spoke with Laura's doctor, who said
she's actually doing really well.
The meds have been working, and no other personalities
have surfaced in over two years.
- Hmm. - Maybe there really is a Bob.
Two years?
Gus was supposed to call me when he got home.
He hasn't called.
Laura was telling the truth about having a stalker?
Stalker? I love her.
She just can't see it 'cause people keep getting in the way.
You killed Crock,
and then you took a shot at me at the station!
You're just figuring this out?
Breaking down a case is harder than it looks!
I'm trying to remember stuff that happened days ago
and keep track of what's going on now.
You shouldn't have tried to take Laura from me.
I wasn't trying to take your girl, man!
I already have a girl.
Please, I heard you talk about that on the radio.
Like that's gonna last the six months.
[Knocking at the door]
No doubt that is the police, Bob.
It's time to give it up.
Gus, I happened to be in the neighborhood--
[Gasps]
What are you doing here?
- Seizing an opportunity. - What?
Indian girl's on the plane, right?
Oh, my gosh! You need Jesus.
That would kind of ruin the mood.
- Ugh! - [Screams]
[Grunts]
I see you, Bob.
You are underappreciated.
God, you're huge.
- Stop talking. - I can't.
- I said shut up! - [Screams]
That's enough, Bob!
[Urgent knocking at the door] [Gasps]
Son of a-- [Grunting]
Gus! Hey! Hey, hey, hey!
- You did good, playa. - Did I?
Awwww, yeeeaaah.
Well, I'm glad you and Max landed safely.
Did he get the surprise I left in his bag?
Not yet. He slept most of the flight.
Oh. Oh, wait till I tell you what happened.
[Gasps] Daddy! You surprised us!
You know what, another time.
You know Max really enjoyed spending time with you, right?
Yeah, but I know it's not the same.
Well, I guess we better--
Yeah.
Call me when you get a chance.
I will.
[Farting]
Shawn.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I couldn't resist, man.
How cool is it that Miranda gave us
Crock's sound effects panel as a thank-you gift?
[Scoffs] I have a feeling
I'm going to be the one to regret it.
I've been there, buddy, it sucks.
You look like you could use some time alone.
You know what? I'll hit the bricks.
[Footsteps]
[Door opening and closing]
[Car starting]
[Mouthing words]
- [Engine revving, tires screeching] - Really?
All right, I'm done. That's it.
Just trying to lighten the mood. I'm done.
Cool.
[tires screeching, crash]
Shawn!
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