All language subtitles for Psych.2.Lassie.Come.Home.2020.[TopNow.se]

- Dad?

- Yes, Carlton?

- There's something
I gotta know,

and I don't want you
to spare my feelings.

I can handle the truth.

- Okay, son.
You have my word.

What's on your mind?

- When I grow up, will I be
able to grow a beard like that?

- You're a Lassiter,
and Lassiter men have been

growing legendary face wigs
for generations.

It's a king's beard
born in your blood,

perfected through centuries.

But never forget, it's not
the beard that makes the king.

- I know, I know.
It's the queen.

- That's right, son.

We're almost there.

- Dad?

Dad?

Dad, where are you?

Don't leave me!

Dad!

This is Chief Lassiter.

Shots fired.

I'm down.

I have been ambushed
and shot multiple times.

I need backup...
immediately.

Hold it.

Please, I have a family.

- Carlton, do you even remember
why you're here?

Think, son.
Think.

- We have an officer down.
All units respond.

2016 Arkenstone Road.
Situation critical.

Suspect still at large.
Approach with extreme caution.

Both: Surprise!

- Ah!
- Surprise, surprise!

- What is wrong with you two?

- Check it out.

- What is that?
- That is a gift for you.

Meet Morrissey the rescue dog,

here to rescue you
from your own handsomeness.

- That dog's Chief Vick's.
- He was.

- He kept biting her daughter.

- Affection gnawing
is what the vet called it.

- He called it rabies, Shawn.

- Either way, the Chief, Gus,
and I have come

to a little agreement.

- She set him loose in my office

and sped away in her car.

- Then you called us to come
down here

and the whole thing just felt
like a win-win.

- That dog is eating my foot.

- Morrissey!
- Stop it.

- Psst.
- Stop it.

- Fsst.
- Stop it.

- Excuse me, Carlton,
I didn't realize

you had visitors.

Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Sorry, no pets.

- Pets?
I'm sorry, I...

Oh!
That's Morrissey.

He's a therapy dog.

- Does he have a vest?

- He does, though, he prefers
to call it a "waistcoat."

I think you'll find it all
checks out.

- Hmm.

This an old Theraflu T-shirt

with tape over the "flu"
and "py" in Sharpie.

- You're good.

One point for you, Dolores.

My name is Shawn Spencer

and this is my partner
Bill Poopingtons.

- No.
Shawn?

- What?
- Sidebar.

- All right.

- Carlton, what is happening
right now?

- Let it go.
- Yes.

- Bill Poopingtons.
What kind of nickname is that?

- Transylvania Dutch.
Why?

- No, Shawn.

No more embarrassing nicknames,

especially in front
of peers and professionals.

- Gus, don't be the night

your dad fell asleep
inside your mom.

We can't just stop doing bits

we've been doing for ten years.

We have fans;
they have expectations.

There'll be a huge backlash.

- Shawn, we are two dumbasses.
We do not have fans.

- From now on,
I do the nicknames.

- No, no, no.
Absolutely not.

That's disgusting.

Counterproposal:
you have right of refusal

until we land on one you like.

- It's a Band-Aid,
but okay for now.

- I'm terribly sorry, Dolores.

What I meant to say was,
my name is Shawn Spencer

and this is my full-fledged
partner All-The-Pips-In-One.

- Accepted.
Hello.

- Could you fellas take
a little walk with me?

Hmm.

Lassie, is that
what I think it is?

- Guys, I love animals,
but I'm sure you know

what a prestigious place
the Herschel House is.

- We do, but let me just say,
although the dog

is not fully certified and ate
one of the two gas pedals

in our car
on the way down here...

- Two what?

- We had hoped that
this visit alone would

start to help Carlton heal
his tangled memories.

He's a tough man
with the thick skin

of a northern white rhino,

but the heart of a smaller,
less-white rhino.

- I know, and you're right,
um...

- It's Burton, but you can call
me Jermajesty

or whatever you'd like, Dolores.

- Well, Jermajesty,
I am gonna kick myself

for falling prey
to a dapper, smooth-talking,

devil's food cookie
with a perfect cranium,

but I'll make the exception.

- "Dapper" and "smooth-talking,"

that doesn't sound right.

- Mr. Wilkerson, beautiful day.

Okay, dog stays, but he's on
a very short leash.

Short leash.

And, in exchange,
you guys can tell me why

you're really here.

- Damn, she's good.
- Yeah.

- All right, Lassie called us
last night.

He's seeing things.

- Ghosts.
- Not necessarily ghosts.

- But probably ghosts.

- But there's a lot
of strange stuff

going on around here:

eerie voices in pipes,
bodies being dragged

out into the woods at night,
black Jell-O.

- We're checking to see
if this joint was built

on an Indian burial ground.

- Uh, it was built
on an old Kmart,

and he's never mentioned
a word of this to me.

- That's because he doesn't
want anyone to know.

We've sworn silence.

Shawn can't tell his wife.

My girlfriend thinks
I'm working a double shift.

I can't even take her calls.

- Well, you can't take
her calls,

because you downloaded
a rogue app

that changes all of your emojis

into little Jamaicans.

Seventeen viruses.
- I see.

So you have a girlfriend?
- I do.

- Dolores, I'm gonna be honest
with you.

I only said "black Jell-O"
because that was Gus' nickname

in our adult dodgeball league.

- Mm.

- And Lassie's terrified
that he's going crazy.

Anyone finds out,
it could cost him his job,

his dignity,
maybe even his family.

- Carlton doesn't even remember
why he went

to that abandoned building.

His only recollection
of his shooter is a silhouette,

he's on nine different
medications,

and as you both know,
he suffered a massive stroke

during surgery.

So of course he's seeing things,

but feeding into these fantasies

is the least helpful thing
you can do right now, okay?

Now, I know this goofy
little white guy,

sexy black dude routine
the two of you have going

like the back of my scrubs.

But you really wanna help?

Just be the grown men
that you are.

- Okay, what is going on here?

- What, Dolores?

- The nurse from
"Color of Night"

fawning all over you.

- I don't know,
maybe she's attractive,

but, Shawn, I'm with Selene now.

I can't keep track
of every shorty

that wants what they can't have.

- Where the hell have
you two been?

- Sorry, Lassie.

We were on our way up the stairs

when Gus spotted a Jamba
right across the street.

We made it happen.
Where's the dog?

- He jumped out the window

the second you walked out
the door,

took my Jell-O, and ran
straight into the woods.

- That makes sense.

He is a hunter-gatherer
of the highest order.

- That wasn't the last Jell-O,
though, was it?

- Doesn't matter.
We don't need the dog.

- Lassie, I'm gonna cut
to the chase.

It's gonna be
a hard pass for us.

We simply cannot keep lying
to our ladies

to cover up your spooky
ghost sightings, okay?

It's too hard.
They know each other.

We're grown men with real pubes.

Let me give you a visual.

You remember Eddie Murphy's
mustache in "Raw"?

Well, that's what Gus has
going on right over the twig.

Now look, whatever you think
you're seeing, it's up here.

You've been through a lot
and hospitals are creepy,

even super luxurious ones.

Trust me on this, man.

You're just really high.

- High.

Uh, Shawn.

What's in that dog's mouth?

- Gus, please.

It is nothing more
than a human hand.

Oh, my God!
It's... it's a human hand.

And it's covered
in leaves and moss

and it's human and it is a hand.

I'm gonna have to call my wife.

I'm gonna have to lie again.

Lassie, we're in.

- Of course you're in,
you morons.

There's a hand in your hand.

- Go ahead, Gus.
Knuck it up softly.

- Get that dead hand
away from me, Shawn.

- # In between the lines #

# There's a lot of obscurity #

# I'm not inclined to resign
to maturity #

# If it's all right #

# Then you're all wrong #

# But why bounce around
to the same damn song #

# You'd rather run when
you can't crawl #

# I know, you know #

# That I'm not
telling the truth #

# I know, you know #

# They just don't have
any proof #

# Embrace the deception #

# Learn how to bend #

# Your worst inhibitions #

# Tend to psych you out
in the end #

- Shawn, I don't like this.

- Gus, you heard Lassie.

We need to get this hand
to Woody ASAP.

- If it's ASAP,
why did we stop first

at Pokey Jack's Smoky Shack?

- Because I'm not an animal,
Gus.

- Either way, it says
right there on the wall

we're not allowed
to ship living material.

- Well, if this hand
was still living,

that would be inappropriate,
but it's not.

Now, we need our gear
if we're gonna find

the rest of this body
before we drive home.

- All of our stuff
is back in Psychphrancisco.

- Or is it?

Ow.

- Oh, you wanna bumble
with the bee, huh?

Yeah.

Gus, we're home.

Now give me some Chewie.

- It's getting better.

- Oh.

- Are we on the same page
right now?

- Yes, alternative Spider-Verse.

- No.

- Oh, bienvenue au Litière,

Santa Barbara's only
pop-up cat restaurant.

- Ah.

- Sure.
- Of course.

A cat-fé.
How nice.

Do your parents know
you're doing this?

- What?
How old do you think I am?

- Nine.
- Forty-one.

- Forty-one?
- Like the girl from "Orphan."

Congrats, business is booming.

- Um, we don't open
for another 15 minutes.

- Oh, so the cats
aren't the customers?

- Who the hell are you guys?

- I'm Shawn Spencer, this is
my partner Ding Dong Ditch.

- Nope.
- Claude O'Dirt.

- Mm-mm.
- Big Poppa Pump?

- Warmer.

- Lemona-lemona-lemona-lime...

- Hello.

- How did either of you
reach adulthood?

- Don't worry, you will too
as long as you keep

taking your vitamins.

- Okay, I am not a child.
What do you want?

- Isn't it obvious?
We want love.

- And companionship.

- And the end
of the ivory trade.

- But most importantly,
we wanna know what you think

you're doing opening
a cat-feteria in our office.

- Well, I am
a legit entrepreneur

and I rented this space

and it's mine
for the next 19 days.

Oh, those are for cats.

- I see.

- Okay, I'm gonna be
honest with you guys.

I am in a real Dickens
of a stare down

with the health department,
so I'm gonna need you

to get to the point.

- All right,
here's the nutshell.

I'm a psychic
and he's a sympathetic pooper.

We're back to retrieve
dozens of detectiving tools

that we've stashed
in the walls, ceiling,

and air ducts.

And that may require punching
a hole or five.

- Well, you're gonna need
to take that up

with the landlord,
and he is not gonna like it.

Back there.
- Thank you, old woman.

Or young child,
whichever you may be.

- What do you want?
- Hi.

Looking for approval
to destroy your drywall

and possibly remove
your air conditioner.

- No.
Bug off.

- "Bug off"?
- Hmm.

- Sir, if you would just allow
me to explain the magnitude...

- No.
- Yeah, wait, hold on.

- Back up.

- We can't help but be
disturbed by how low

the register of your voice is.

- You're clearly putting on
some sort of bellowed timbre.

- This is not a timbre.
- It just got lower.

- It's the same voice.
- So you admit it's a voice?

- Yeah, who are you doing,
Tom Waits?

- Kathleen Turner?
- Harvey Fierstein?

- Diedrich Bader?
- Shawn.

Get in here.
- Dad?

How in the hell could
you afford to buy

the Psych office?

- I didn't buy anything.

You neglected to tell
your landlord

that you were moving.

- What?

- I simply picked up
the payments

and started subletting
to every hipster pop-up

coming into town.

I am literally rolling
in disposable income.

Tax-free.

- This seems illegal.

- Why are you bothering
my tenants?

- We may have left behind
a few items when we moved.

- You left behind a slow cooker
with a 3-pound roast in it.

You nearly "This Is Us'd"
the entire block.

- "This Is Us"?

Dad, why are you watching
that show?

They have the same show
on ABC, but newer.

- What do you want?

- Uh, this is embarrassing,

but I think I'm allergic
to these cats.

Not my problem.

- Wha...

- Look, Dad,
this is a Lassie mystery.

The stakes are possibly
life and death,

which means I need
my night vision goggles

and my collection of mustaches

in order to snoop around
undetected.

Will you please help us?

For Lassie.

Of course.

- You're using the voice again.

- Surprise!

- I can see all your teeth,
O'Hara.

Like, all of them.

- I'm sorry, I'm just
inappropriately giddy

to see you.

- Wait a minute.
It's not Monday.

Why are you here?

- Carlton, you are
absolutely paranoid.

I miss you.

- Really?

- Okay, fine.

Truth is, I snuck out
this morning when I saw this.

- Is that Conway Twitty?

- This is Reese Kessler,
the monster who shot you

in cold blood six times.

They picked him up yesterday,
made a full confession,

waived his right to an attorney.

Still ironing out a few details,

but it smells like...

what?

- Nothing.

- I know that face.

Is this not the guy?

- I don't know.
Believe me, I wish I did.

I don't remember.
I'm working on it.

- But maybe the reason
you're making that face

is because this is not
the right person.

Look, the truth is,
I didn't come down here

all the way from San Francisco
just to be a messenger.

I came down here,
because he doesn't mention

a second gun in his confession.

And I know they never found
a slug for it,

but I also know
there's a bullet missing

from the crime scene.

- O'Hara, you've already been
reprimanded twice

to stay off this case.

Please stop jeopardizing
your career.

- Look, I just wanna help.

- "Help"?
Great.

There you go.

- That's a grocery list.

- Untrue.
There's also some errands.

- There are 93 of them.

- Yeah, so it shouldn't take
you that long.

- Gus, we've got everything
we need right here.

Best damn tracking dog
in the history

of the Half Moon Bay
Animal Shelter.

Morrissey already
found the hand.

Now he will meticulously sniff
this entire place

and lead us directly
to the rest of the body.

Morrissey, take a sniff of this.

Huh?

Now, watch and learn.

- I probably should have left
the leash on.

- Ya think?

- Damn, he cleared
the horizon quickly.

- You are the strongest person
I know.

Nah.

- Yeah, and I am watching you
get stronger

every single day.

And I love you, and I don't know

what I would do without you.

And I will be back on Monday

for our regularly
scheduled visit

with a completed errand list

and seven pounds
of Ghiradelli chocolate.

- Okay.

- Oh, and I almost forgot.

- What?

- I thought you might want it
so you never forget.

And I promise next time
I am here, zero police talk,

unless, of course,
you wanna talk about putting

a guard outside your door.

Deal?
- Deal.

We've gotta be honest
with each other.

- Why is Morrissey's dish here?

- Whose what?

- Shawn, we've been lost
for an hour.

That dog's never coming back.

- Babe of all babes.

- I can't believe
you're in Santa Barbara.

- What?
I can explain, babe.

I was just trying to help.

- Please don't.
Just stop.

I'm here too.

I need to talk to you
about dinner.

- Right, dinner.

- Cancel.
- I'm not gonna cancel.

- I think we should cancel.

- No, we're not gonna cancel.
Don't be silly.

I already have something
in motion that's amazing.

Tonight's gonna be a night
we remember forever.

- Um... okay.

I'm just... I'm stuck
at the airport,

and I may need
a little extra time,

so maybe we should just...

- Hey, what you said is perfect.

I'll see you tonight.
I love you.

- She was giving you an out.

- She sounded
really strange, Gus.

- Like Lupita in "Us"?

- No, well, which one?

"Tethered."

- No, not that strange.

I just feel like I really
let her down this time.

- You're protecting Lassie.
He begged us not to tell her.

- It doesn't matter, Gus.

I can't keep sneaking around
and lying like this anymore.

She's probably sitting
at the airport all misty-eyed,

wondering if I'll ever be

the truthful grown-ass
man she deserves.

What am I... Let's go home.

- This is Chief Lassiter.

Shots fired.
I'm down.

I have been ambushed
and shot multiple times.

- We have an officer down.
All units respond.

Situation critical.

- They never found
the slug for it.

There's a bullet missing
from the crime scene.

- I didn't see anything!
Don't shoot.

- I'm not gonna hurt you.
- I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have come back.

- Look, you need
medical attention.

And I need that bullet
in your leg.

- # How lucky can one guy be #

- She's later than us.
Go!

- Dude!
- Go, do it!

She'll be here any second, man.

Make it romantic.

I'll plate the dinners.
You set the mood.

- # Ain't that a kick
in the head #

- Ooh,
next level petal-ing, Gus.

- # She's telling me
we'll be wed #

- Shawn, why did you
choose the menu

from "A Charlie Brown
Thanksgiving"?

- Because it's the only thing
they had

at the gas station, Gus.

- Come on, son.

# I'm Mr. Bootyman#

- Don't... don't answer that.

- I couldn't if I wanted to.

My phone is even worse now.

None of the buttons are working.

- Well, we reap what we sow.

# I'm Mr. Bootyman #

- She's coming.
Okay!

I gotta get the candles.
You sneak down the fire escape.

- Cool.
Wait, fire escape?

- I am really proud of how
you've handled all of this.

It was big of you to bail
on Lassiter's case,

especially with goblins
on the table.

- Thank you, but I also know
that you're not sold

on the guy who confessed
to shooting Lassie.

But, babe, your neck
is way out there on this one.

- Shawn Spencer, are you
the one worried about me

sniffing around
where I shouldn't be?

- That's right, it feels good
to be the adult

in this relationship.

Just this once.

- Yeah.

- Seriously, though, please
promise me

that you'll let
the locals handle this one.

- Of course.
- Of course.

That being said,
I'm gonna take this list.

I'm gonna do all
these errands for you,

which include
"polishing Lassie's rod."

But first, I'm gonna
wrap both of us

in your favorite green Snuggie.

- And we're gonna be in there
for a while.

- It's in the big dresser
drawer with all the bedding!

- Heh.

What are you doing?

- That fire escape was steep,
Shawn.

- Come on, man.
It's been a couple of hours.

Look, I told her all afternoon
that you were gonna be gone.

Now you've turned me
into a liar again.

- You are a liar.
- Your dad's a liar.

- Did you tell her
about the hand?

- No, because the hand
is not important,

because we're off the case.

Now give me this damn Snuggie.
- Get your own damn Snuggie.

- This is my damn Snug...

Ow!

- What's that?

- Nothing, hon.

Hey, babe.

It's weird.
I can't find the Snuggie.

But you know what?

We don't need that particular
Snuggie, because...

# I'm Mr. Bootyman #

- Is that Gus' ringtone?

- That is Gus' ringtone,
isn't it?

He must have left his phone
here, silly black goose.

I just remembered
where the Snuggie is.

It's in the bedroom,
but it's deep.

I think there's a depth to it.
Will you go look for it?

- You just wanna see
who's calling

so you can decide whether
or not to pick it up.

- Will you marry me?

- Only if we can have toast
and jelly beans for dinner

every night.

- Deal.
This is it.

- That's where it's at.
- This is home base.

- Yep.

- Good God, man, turn that off.

- I'm trying.
It's Woody.

- Well, answer it.
He's got the hand.

- I thought you said the hand
wasn't important.

- Where did you get
a Nutri-Grain bar?

- Don't worry about that, Shawn.

- Mmm.

Guys, first of all, thank you

for the delicious smoked meats.

- He ate the hand?
- He didn't eat the hand.

I put some smoked meats
in with the hand.

- Why would you do that?

- Because it was $26
to mail the box

whether it was full or not, Gus.

I thought you of all people
could appreciate

that level of frugality.

Woody?

- I have good news
and I have bad news.

The venison, scrumptious!

Oh, also there was
a usable print

on one of the dead guy's
fingers.

I got a name for the victim.

Some hotshot manufacturing CEO

named Devon Tileback.

- Devon.
Okay, okay.

What's the bad news?

- Shawn, the buffalo was chewy.

Tasted a little bit
like fingernails.

- That makes sense.
It was actually tofuffalo.

- Oh, tofuffalo.
Okay.

- Damn it, now we've got
a real murder case

and a real victim.

- Nope, no, no, no.

He wasn't murdered
or dissolved by a witch.

He committed suicide.

- Suicide?
- Yeah, about a week ago.

Jumped off a bridge
into the Santa Ynez River.

Body was never found
until now, I guess.

Luka, no.
No, sweetie.

Butterfly's baby is playing
with a spleen again.

I should go.
- Yeah, you should.

- Well, this great.

There's no ghost.
It's open and shut.

We're off the hook.

- No, Gus, this is bad.

The suicide, the hand
turning up behind the hospital

where Lassie's seeing ghosts...
Come on.

Jules is gonna go right back
down there

when she hears all this stuff.

We have to save her
from herself.

- What does that even mean?

- It means we go back
to Santa Barbara

and start lying again.

Be careful for spiders.

Shawn!
- Here comes the tickler!

- Morrissey?

No.

What have I told you
about getting up on the bed?

Down.

Off.

I can move you off me
any time I want to.

Actually, that's not true,
is it?

You think I'm a fraud,
don't you?

You think they're gonna
retire me,

gonna be a burden to my family.

Gonna sit in the La-z-Boy
the rest of my life

yelling at the TV.

Oh, crap, that would suck.

I'm gonna level with you, dog,
just between you and I.

I don't know if I'm ever gonna
walk again.

- What are you looking at?

You see that, right?

I mean, that guy's
really bleeding.

Come on, dog, tell me
I'm not crazy.

- Of course you're not crazy.
You're a Lassiter.

- I thought I told you
to leave me alone.

- I know, son, but we have
so much catching up to do.

- Oh, Lassie, Lassie, Lassie.

Look, we believe that you saw
something last night,

but why would a man
soaked in blood

sneak into some stables
at a recovery house?

- I know what I saw.
- Did anybody else see this?

- Yes.

- A dog?

- Oh, my God,
Morrissey ate Dolores.

- Dolores is fine.

- Look, Lassie,
we're trying here, man.

We are.

But that hand, remember?

The hand that Morrissey found
belongs to

some techie CEO that
took a dive into the river.

It has nothing to do with you
or the Herschel House.

And keeping these trips secret
is proving very difficult.

Gus slept in a drawer
last night.

- Full disclosure,
it's the best sleep

I've had in years.

I might even stay there
again tonight.

- Yeah, guess again.
- You'll never know.

- Regardless, your only
witness is a dog,

who I'm not convinced
didn't eat a nurse.

- Guys, please,
just check out the stables

and then you can tell me
I'm crazy.

- He said "please."
- He did.

- Shoot.

Selene.

- Oh, hi, Juliet.

Do you know where I can file
a missing person's report?

- Oh, yeah, I can do
that for you right away.

Who's it for?
- Gus.

- Gus?

- Yes, he's not at work
and he hasn't answered

his phone in two days.

And I've called
from lots of phones.

- Selene, come on, it's Gus.
It's fine.

He doesn't have
a deceptive bone in his... oh.

You know what?

He left his phone at our house

when they got back
from Santa Barbara.

- What?

He didn't tell me he was going
to Santa Barbara.

- Neither did Shawn.

That's 'cause they were
sneaking around

on a case they didn't want me
to know about.

- And that doesn't upset you?
- No.

It makes it easier for me

to sneak around and investigate
cases they don't know about.

- Juliet, there's something
or someone

he's not telling me about.

- Oh, is this about the nurse?

- What nurse?

- Oh, no, it's nothing.

Lassiter's nurse,
she's just very sweet,

and she just seems
to really like Gus.

Super innocent.

Sorry, why would Kessler
contradict his own alibi?

Unless he was forced to.

You know what, Selene?

I am sorry, I have to go
to Santa Barbara

and get a prisoner to recant
his confession.

Gus is way into you.
Try not to spiral over nothing.

Bye!

- A nurse isn't nothing.

- All right,
I guess the bloody figure

would have had to come
through here.

- Man, even the stables
are spotless.

I'd even eat off this floor.
- You'd eat off any floor.

Now, why would they keep

all this medical equipment
down here?

That doesn't make any sense.

What are these?

- Ice chips.

They give them to patients
during therapy

when they can't hold down
solid food.

What are you doing?
Are you eating that?

- Dude, there's, like, five
different flavors in there.

- You can't do that, Shawn.
It's impolite.

- Impolite?

You ate a Nutri-Grain bar

that you found in an armoire.

- Exactly, it didn't belong
to anyone... oh, my gosh.

Blue raspberry.

- Now you see what I'm saying.

This is like a Concord grape.

- Excuse me.
Good morning.

Are you eating
the patients' ice chips?

- I am not.
He is.

- That's not true.
- We're sorry.

We're just... we're both fans
of delicious flavor.

- We're friends of the Chief.
Carlton Lassiter.

- Ah, friends of the Chief's.

Hi.
- Hello.

- I'm Dr. Herschel.
This is my facility.

Those are my ice chips.

- Oh.

- I'd like to remind you,
gentlemen,

that the areas marked
"restricted" are restricted,

because they are restricted.

- That feels fair.
- Mm-hmm.

- We were wondering, did you
have any unexpected visitors

late last night
who had been attacked violently

and perhaps large pools of blood

in this general area
maybe headed that way?

- No, no pools of blood.

- Any people living
in your pipes?

- Maybe speaking their own
tongue, perhaps Parsel.

- I'm fairly certain we do not.

- I feel like we're making
some serious strides here.

- Yes.

- What about
one-handed patients?

Be it by birth,
industrial accident,

or voodoo.

- 100% of our patients have
100% of their appendages.

May I ask, gentlemen,
what is this about?

- Say nothing.

- Carlton may have seen
a zombie.

What are you doing?

- It was not a zombie, sir.

It was a normal man possibly
infected with rage,

drenched in his own blood.

And, oh, did you know there are
bodies in your fields?

Now I'm doing it.

You.
You're good.

You are very good
at extracting confessions.

- Impressive.

- I know that the Chief
has been seeing things

that are unexplainable.

Believe me, we are doing
everything in our power

to help him work through this
during his recovery.

We even sent for a specialist

all the way from the island
of Cuba to help,

Mr. A.V. Catalon, a renowned
homeoneurotraumatist.

- Dr. Herschel, I'm going
to be honest with you.

That title sounds like you
made it up right this second.

- Do you have a picture
of this alleged Dr. Catalon?

- All you have to do is look
into the flap of his book.

What?

He wrote a book?

- May I be honest with you,
gentlemen?

- Please, sir.

- The Chief's behavior
is perfectly within

the realm of normal for someone

who has experienced
such severe trauma.

The only danger is if somebody

were to fuel his fantasies.

Am I being clear?

- Yes.
- Good.

Now, if I am ever to see
you two gentlemen again,

I hope it is in the area
marked "for visitors,"

because that's where visitors

do their visiting.

- It tracks.

- Good day.

- Good day.

- Wait for it...
- Good, good.

Good, good.
- Clear.

I like to suck on the tips.

- What?

- O'Hara.
- Hmm?

- There you are.
- You got it, didn't you?

Police Commissioner,
I can't believe it!

You'll come back
and visit us, right?

- No, final interviews
are later today,

and I'm just one of three.

It's an honor to be considered.
- Mm-hmm.

- Oh, scratch that.

I want it, I need it,
it is mine to lose.

- Yeah.

So why'd you wanna talk
to me so bad?

- Ballistics is having
a little trouble identifying

this slug that
you brought in yesterday,

and I don't recall
the case it's from.

- Oh, I was just
crossing some Ts

in the Embarcadero Shipping
case.

- Okay.
Then, good.

- Yeah.
- And, O'Hara...

- Yes, Chief?

- If you're going to go
after Lassiter's shooter,

please do us the courtesy
of clocking out first

and never lie to me,

even if you think
it's for my own protection.

- I'm sorry.

- I thought they had
someone in custody.

- They do.
- And he confessed?

- He did.

I can explain.
- Oh, I didn't ask you to.

And I don't need to remind you
how many cold-blooded killers

get off on technicalities.

- So, you're going
to Santa Barbara to see

about a prisoner, huh?

Well, I'm going to see
about a nurse.

- Gus, is this place starting
to mess with your head?

I suddenly have the urge
to give myself a tongue bath.

- Focus, Shawn.
- Right.

- Look, I don't get it.

Devon Tileback's life
was perfect.

His company just went public.

Why would he jump off a bridge?

He just started spending
his money like a boss.

He had everything left
to live for.

- I don't know, Gus.

But Lassiter is spiraling

with every single
unanswered question.

We need to prove something,

even if it's not what
we wanna prove.

We've ruled out the hell hag.

Maybe we take a harder look
at Tileback.

Now what are we missing?

That doesn't make sense.
- What?

- Our guy worked from
morning till night, right?

So what's he doing driving
all the way into the hills

to the Vikings Den Ice Bar?

- An ice cream bar?
- No, no, no, ice bar.

The ones where
they give you a parka

and they have
subzero temperatures.

They're either
for tourists or Eskimos.

- He could be an Eskimo.
What?

- Let's go get loaded
for Lassie.

- You're not a public defender.

- No, wait, Mr. Kessler.

I just don't want you to make
a mistake by going to jail

for a crime you did not commit.

Look, I know you've had
a lot of heartbreaks

in your life,
but you can get out of this.

I can help you.

- No, you can't, okay?

They're everywhere.
They're here.

They know everything.

- Think about your wife.
- Look, you don't get it, okay?

I can't trust anyone.
I'm fully exposed in here.

- Don't let anybody force you
to do this.

Think about your child.
- Wait, wait, wait.

You have a kid, and you're
willing to go to jail

for nothing?

What the hell is wrong with you?

- The hell is this?
- Nobody.

- Nobody?

I'm your best friend.
- Best friend?

- What, you brought
your best friend with you?

Look, you know what?
I'm done.

I'm done with you guys.
- You know what?

You're right, we are done,
you ol' deadbeat D'Andre.

- No, look, wait...
- Peace out.

- What?
Kessler, wait.

- Open the door.
- We are not done.

- You know what?

I may have overreacted slightly.

- May...

- I don't like this, Shawn.

We're the only non-motorcycle
in this parking lot

and these people are
extra white,

which is never good.

- Well, you'll just have
to be extra black, then.

- You bet.

- These mittens are
awfully restrictive,

and I'm afraid my hat
used to be a raccoon.

- The fur is fake, Shawn.

What we should have done
was waited to see if

any more of those fancy brown
earmuffs became available.

- Let's just get
the information we need,

drink some chilled moonshine,
and bounce out of here.

- Hello.

- Hi, you must be
the vodka consigliere?

- What the hell is this?

- What can you tell us
about Devon Tileback?

- Don't talk about Devon
in here.

- Why not?

- He owed a lot of money.

- What?
That dude was loaded.

- Look, he was a good guy,
but he was starting to lose it.

Kept going on about
all of his dark secrets

being exposed.

- First of all, thank you
for being so forthcoming.

It's refreshing.
- Yeah.

- What secrets do you mean?

Hello.

- Hmm?

- Ova.
This is my place.

Both: Oh.
- Yes.

You're just the man we'd like
to speak with.

- Question: do you have
any more of

those smoky topaz-brown
earmuffs?

- Those are for our VIPs,
and we're all out.

Have you ever been to Norway?

- Just once
with my brother-in-law.

- We don't talk about that,
Shawn.

- Ova, I'm going to be honest
with you.

Neither of us have heard
of this joint,

and I wasn't even aware
this mountain existed.

- Well, we just opened
last year.

This is my second chapter.

I used to run
a different business,

successful and rewarding
in its own way,

but life has a way
of giving you a new direction.

- It does.

- Can I treat you to
a favorite of mine

from back home?

- Is it Oreo-flavored?

- It is not.

It is cask-aged
by my family in Flekkefjord

for the last 120 years.

- Not to seem ungrateful,

but do you have
anything Russian?

- Gentlemen,
Norwegian tradition.

First, we look
into each other's eyes...

- Mm.

- And we say:

Skal!
- Cheers!

- And cheers!

Ah, kerosene.
- Uh!

- Tell me, who is the bearded
Daryl Hannah over there?

- That's Per.
He's my son.

Both:
Ah.

- He's also clearly
within earshot.

He's already displeased
with me and my career choices.

Perhaps we all stop
gawking at him?

- Fair enough.
Gus, we need to go.

- We do, but first,
I need to go.

This vodka went
right through me.

- Thank you
for your hospitality, Ova.

We'll be back to wear
these coats again,

I can assure you.

Can we reserve two pair of

the extra plush
russet brown earmuffs?

- Be sure to put you
on the top of the list.

- # I'm Mr. Bootyman #

# I'm Mr. Bootyman #

# I'm looking for a cutie #

# With a booty, understand #

# I'm Mr. Bootyman
I'm Mr. Bootyman #

- Stop it.
Stop it.

Stop it.

- What the hell?

- That was not supposed
to happen.

My cousin partnered
with Greg Grunberg on an app

called "Jamaica Me Alla Way."

There are some bugs,
and that's what caused me

to photograph your...

- Hairless genitals over there
twice.

I will erase the photos
immediately.

Bad news, I just tweeted that.

- You are one sick individual.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, no!

Don't retweet that!
Don't retweet that!

Damn it!

You know, sometimes,
I really hate my followers.

- You know what we do
with sick individuals?

- You give them the space
and care they deserve?

- They get what they deserve,
all right.

- What could I do?
I pulled the man's finger.

- Let's go.
Let's go!

Psst.

- It was nice meeting you, Ova.

- And you.
- Let's go!

- Dude, what the hell happened
in there?

- I will tell you
on my deathbed, Shawn.

We go on foot.
- What?

Run, Shawn!

Come on!

- Dude, dude!
Motorcycle.

Let's go!

- No, no, no, no, no.
I can't do it.

- You can't do what,
ride a motorcycle?

- In all the years I owned one,

how many times did you actually
see me ride, Gus?

- I don't care.

Shawn, there's a bunch
of angry Viking bikers

coming this way now.

- No.
- Let's go.

- I promised Jules I wouldn't
ride anymore,

and I gotta be honest
about something.

- Dude, now is not
the time to try

to suddenly live up
to your vows.

Let's go.
- That's fair.

- Make a hard right!
Hard right!

Turn right!
Turn right!

Turn right!

- That wasn't a hard right,
Shawn.

- I tried to tell you, man!

- What do you we do now?

- I guess we just lay here
for a while.

- Who the hell are you guys?

- Who the hell are we?
Who the hell are you?

- You're Devon Tileback.

- Dude, our dog found your hand.

- You're supposed to be dead.

- You need to stop whatever it
is you think you're doing.

You have no idea
who you're dealing with.

More people are gonna die.

Just let me stay dead.

You're ruining everything.

- When you say "everything"...

Where did that shot come from?

- Play dead.

- Buzz frickin' McNab.
- In a suit.

It's even his size.

- What's going on with the hair?

- It's a douche-hawk, Shawn.

- Oh, there's a piece
coming loose.

- Dude, he's got my phone.

- Buzz, you look big and slick.

- Shawn, Gus, what are you guys
doing in Santa Barbara?

- Well, I left a Frisbee signed
by a German film director

Florian Henckel
von Donnersmarck when I moved,

and I've come back
to collect it.

Gus has a new love interest
down here

who happens to be a nurse.

- Not true.

Can I have that?
- It's evidence.

- It's mine.

- You guys got here too quick

for us to fish it out
of the ditch.

- Did you kill that guy?

- Buzz, please, the man was
dead before we spoke to him.

- What?

- He died a second time, Buzz.
Keep up.

- Why are you here?
- Super top secret, man.

I can't tell you or anyone
from your department

or any former members
of your department,

especially not J...

Jules?

That means she's
still working this case.

She lied to me, Gus.
She lied to me.

I'm so turned on right now,
dude.

- Shawn, don't be happy
about this.

You are setting
a dangerous precedent.

Honesty is the key component
in any...

- Who's she talking to?
- This doesn't look

like a hospital.
- Selene.

- What the... dude,
we gotta get out of here.

Selene found me.

Damn it, I knew I was gonna
get caught!

- Just act natural.
- What is happening?

- Buzz, you never saw us.

- But this is a crime scene.

- Okay, listen very closely.

- Guy in a ditch.
- Named Devon.

- Faked death.
- Owed people money.

- Got found.
- Got shot.

- Now dead.
- Case closed.

- We will waive our fee
for solving this,

because you still have to
figure out who shot him.

- Okay, but how am I...

- Whoo-whoo.

- Nope.
- Yep.

- Nope.
- Yep.

Move, sir, move, sir, sir.
- Do not let her in here.

- This is a crime scene.

- What's going on here?

- I'm not sure,
but if I had a guess,

a guy faked his death
and then got shot

by the people
he was hiding from.

- How long have you been here?

- Ten minutes.
- Wow.

That's impressive.

- Thanks, Juliet.
It means a lot.

- Hmm.

Here is the ballistics report
on the bullet

that went through Lassiter.

There was a second gun,

which means the guy
who confessed is a liar.

Don't tell anyone
how you got this.

You understand?

- I'm not sure I understand
anything right now.

- That's the Buzz I know
and love.

How's Francie?

- Oh, she's teaching yoga
to horses now.

A cop!

- Nice hiding space, Shawn.

- Then where do you suggest
we go, Gus?

- We're in the forest
and we look like bears.

- Yeah, but there's cops
everywhere.

- No one is paying attention
to us, Shawn.

No one.
- You're right, that's weird.

- Juliet, if you would simply
take me to the hospital...

- Selene, I am working a case
I have no business working on.

So I am super sorry,
but I would like

to respectfully request
that you shut the hell up.

- Excuse me?
- I'm sorry.

I should have said heck.

- You brought a friend with you?

- It's Gus' girlfriend.
- Hi.

- Oh, you're the nurse.

- No!

- Shawn, Selene's coming back.

Through the car.
- Good call.

Hurry!

Careful, you're getting
footprints

all over Jules' seats.

Stop kicking everything.

You kicked everything
everywhere.

- Shawn, she's coming.

There is no reason
that keeps us here right now.

- Dude, there kinda is.

- Shawn, she's gonna see us.
Come on.

- Juliet, I'll just
get there myself.

- I don't know what I did,
but I'm so sorry.

- Buzz.
- Mm-hmm?

- I'm gonna need your car.

Keys?

I left them in the car.

- Oh, man.

- Dude, will you snap out of it?

- It's impossible.
- What's impossible?

- I think I'm pregnant.

What?

When did you all start trying
to have a baby?

- I don't know, Gus.

I thought we were waiting.

I assumed that we would start
with a hamster,

maybe a mini-leopard.

You know me, man.
I'm not ready for this.

You know the windows in the loft

don't even fully close, right?

I'm gonna have to replace them.
Otherwise this is

"Baby's Day Out" all over again.

- Shawn, calm down, calm down.

You're spinning.

No reason to get worked up
over John Hughes' worst idea.

Are you even listening?

- Lassie just texted, all caps.

He saw Wilkerson running
down the hallway.

- Wilkerson?

The comatose dude
in a wheelchair?

- I think Lassie's hit
a new low.

We're gonna have
to deal with this.

- Uh, shouldn't we be dealing

with this whole
fatherhood thing?

- Yes, but later.

This Lassie thing is
the perfect reason

not to deal with
anything real at all.

How lucky is that?

- And what exactly
are you thinking?

- Well, it is that time.

- What time?

So now Lassie's seeing
some comatose man

up and running around,
but we've got a real dead guy

on our hands.

We're concerned
we've lost him forever.

- Sh...
- Shawn!

I did not steal
your moustache collection.

What is your problem?

- Well, then you misplaced it,
Pop, or you used it

as part of your bedroom play
for whatever

unfortunate jezebels
you convinced to participate

in your sick game.

Ah!

This cat.

Look, I just want 'em back.
I need 'em back!

- You better walk that tone
someplace else

if you want my help.

- All right, can I step in here?

Shawn is having a lot
going on right now.

Big picture life stuff.

- My only concern at the moment
is that my dad is

a liar and a thief.

Do we even know if that merkin
on your face is real?

- Stop!

I thought maybe,
when you got married,

you might take even
half a step toward

being an adult, but you are
regressing big time.

- Oh, well, I am way further
down that road

than you can imagine being.

And this just in, I will never
steal from my child.

I can't wait for you to feel
what it's like

to have to deal with a mini-you.

I am counting the minutes to it.

It'll be the redemption
of my life,

watching you fail.

- And all those years
you thought you were telling me

things I didn't already know.

- All right.

Lassie is spiraling.

We thought we were helping him
by looking into his visions,

but now we're concerned we're
just fueling his imagination.

- Okay, guys, come on, come on.
Now, look.

Carlton is one of the best cops
I've ever known.

He survived six bullets
and a stroke.

His body may be playing
catch up,

but his mind, it's as sharp
as I've ever known it.

Come on, let's face it.

He's never had much
of an imagination, right?

So when he says this guy
Wilkerson is faking it,

maybe you should do
the crazy thing...

Believe him.

- Believe him?

- Gus, you know what this means.

We have to go full...
- Dirty...

- Rotten...
- Scoundrels.

Afternoon, Wilkerson.

How you doing?
- We're new here.

Name's Shawn Spencer.

This is my partner,
L'Eggo My Eggo.

- No.
- Norman Brownbutter.

- Try again, Shawn.

- Dijon Hounsou?
- Accepted.

- Why are you rejecting
nicknames in front

of a comatose guy?

- Because I'm a pro.

Penny for your thoughts, Vic.

- Save your pennies, Dijon.
I got this.

I see it, Jack Daddy.

You play it straight, huh?

Tough guy
from the old neighborhood.

Probably didn't even cry
when Liz Berkley

got addicted to speed
in "Saved By the Bell."

But guess what.

Even tough guys...
- Are ticklish.

Uh-oh.

Looks like a very bad boy
is about to get attacked

by the French tickler.

Tickle, tickle, tickle.

Give it to him, Gus.

Just give it to him.

Give it to him clean, please.

- Yeah, work it.
Prepare it.

Get in there.

Take off his sock, Gus.

Come on, Wilkerson,
you know you can feel that.

- Come on, man.

- You're gonna break,
and when you do,

you can take the window
or the stairs.

Harder, Gus.
- Oh, it's about to get hard.

- Mm-hmm.
Aw, yeah.

Harder.
Harder, Gus.

Gus, go hard!

- Are you getting up in there?
- Oh, it's getting hard.

- Get up in there.
Finish it!

- I'm going hard, Shawn!
- Excuse me.

What are you two doing?

- Oh, we're just visiting
Mr. Wilkerson here.

- Why have you removed
his stocking feet?

- Dr. Herschel,
we have reason to believe

that your Wilkerson is faking.

- Yes.

- Faking?
Faking?

- Yes.

- This man suffers
from severe catatonia.

He has had imparity
of all bodily functions

for quite some time.

We're not even sure he's going
to recover at all,

and you're tickling his feet?

- Well, that's a regional term.
Gus prefers "playing football."

Ow.

Ah.

- At first, I thought you two
had this harmless, idiotic

Ren and Stimpy thing...

- Stimpy.
- Going.

Now, you're proving
to be dangerous.

I want you out.

- Shawn, Gus, what is going on?

- Dolores, great.
I can explain.

Have you ever seen
"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels"?

- Oh, we talking, like,
you and I,

like a Netflix and chill
scenario?

- Nurse O'Riordan, kindly
escort these two pedofetishers

off the premises and then attend

to Mr. Wilkerson
and examine his feet

for signs of violation.

- Violation?

- Get your hands off
that man's eyeball.

- There is a sign
marked "exit."

It is marked "exit"
for the purpose of exiting.

Find it, use it.

Gentlemen, my dander is rising.

- I don't really know
what to say,

but I guess you guys
should probably come with me.

- Oh, come on, Dolores.

You don't think maybe
there's another reason

that dude just got
a dander boner?

Maybe the "Good Doctor"
isn't so good,

and we're on to him
and so is Lassiter.

- On to what?

Dr. Herschel's an incredible
doctor and humanitarian,

who took on Carlton's case
at his own expense.

- What does that mean,
like, for free?

That's just bad business.

- Okay, you know what?

Feel free to reach out
for updates,

but at this point,
I see no other option

than for you guys to stay away.

Good-bye.

- What is that?
That's surreal.

I'm... I don't...

- Shawn, we're done.

I need to get a hold of Selene

before she turns me
into a voodoo doll.

- Nope.

What we need to do is get back
into that hospital

and help Lassie.

- Why can we never just reach
the end of the line?

- Because we're close, Gus,
and we need eyes

on Dr. Herschel.

- What is that?

- That is called plan B.

Arrival papers
and a security pass

for renowned touring trauma
specialist Dr. A.V. Catalon

from Cuba.

Now, he could pick
them up himself,

but I suspect he's gonna get
a phone call later...

Canceling his trip.

Who do we know in
the whole wide world

that could possibly
take his place?

- Who?
- Oh.

- What?
- We.

- Oh, my gosh.

- This is why I needed
my mustache collection, Gus.

Hello.

My name is Amerigo Vespucci
Catalon Estevez.

And you killed my father.
- No.

- Yes.
- No.

- Yes.
- No.

- Yes.
- No.

- Yes, you did.
- I did not.

- Prepare to die.
- It's not gonna work, Shawn.

- Are you kidding me right now?
This is a lock.

I'm virtually unrecognizable
to myself.

- Somebody in here?

- I'm going into
your dad's office

and I am calling the police.

- I know what you're thinking:
"Does he have a plan C?"

No, he does not.

But does he have a plan D?

Yes.

Woody, the mustache is
spectacular.

- From my lip to God's ears.

- Thank you for coming
on such short notice.

- Did you get the materials?

Do you need us to fill
you in on anything?

- I studied everything about
him on the plane.

I know exactly who this guy is.

I know what makes him tick,
what excites him,

his biggest fears.

- I like that very much,
but, Woody,

for our purposes here,
we should probably focus

on the type of medicine
he practices

and how he helps the patients
at this facility.

- I must disagree to disagree,
Shawn.

Sure, that will come into play
down the line, yes.

But more importantly,
how does Catalon feel

about his mother
and her unriddling dominance

over him and his seven siblings?

- He's an only child.

- In his mind, yes,

but that's how he managed
to survive

in a world he distrusted
and the loss of the only woman

he had ever loved, Esmerelda,

hostess at the tobacco farm

where he spent
his formative summers.

Editor's note: his bicycle had
a banana seat.

None of that is in here.

Well, of course it isn't,
dear, simple Gus.

But that doesn't make it
any less true in here and here

and just a little down here.

- I feel woozy.

- Woody, I need you
to concentrate, man.

We need you on the inside,

and we really need this to work.

- Shawn, I am calm.

I am collected.

Not since Ben Affleck in,
well, anything,

has an actor been more prepared
for a role in his life.

- You're not an actor.
- You're barely a coroner.

- You planning on doing
an accent?

Yes, I am.

- Less is more.
- A lot less.

Guys, I got this.

Adios, hombres.

- Is he doing a limp?

You're doing a limp?

- I got this.

Buenos tardes, señorita,
or young lady.

I am Dr. Amerigo Catalon

from the island country
of Cuba reporting for work.

- Dr. Catalon, wonderful.

Could you just spell that
for me?

- No.
No, I cannot.

- Okay.

- You're gonna do great.

- I know.

- These were marked urgent
for you.

- Thank you.

I will check them
after my interview.

- Welcome, Karen.

It's exciting to be nearing
the conclusion of our search.

As you know, the process
has been an exhaustive one.

Uh... oh.

Yes, and thank you
for considering me

for such... such a... lofty...

I can't believe... it's an honor
just... just really

to... to be considered.

And I never thought
that I would reach

such a lofty...

I have to go.

- Excuse me?

We're making our decision today.

- Oh, I know.
Um, choose Pradhan.

She's much more cut out
for this,

and this room is ridiculous.

- Woody.
- Oh!

- What do you got for us?
Did you see Lassie?

- I got all his pills.
- Great job, man.

You were born to do
undercover work.

- I am deep in, guys.
- That's great.

Woody, can you hand us
the pills, please?

We don't wanna get caught
in here.

Sure.

Okay, I just want to point out
that you guys requested

that I take Lassiter's pills.

See, I thought you wanted me
to be the guinea pig on this,

but now I understand your way
is a much better plan.

And the good news is,
they're time-release pills,

and I have one painfully lodged
in my throat,

but watch the problem solver
at work solving the problem.

Come on, man.

- Do you have a surgical glove
by chance?

- Forty-three pairs... they also
come in wine and burnt pumpkin.

I'm a hoarder.

Okay, first of all,
that's a Chiclet.

Wait, there's more.

- What the...

- Someone did not want us
to find this.

- Bandages, stitches...

Peroxide.

Dude, this is all
for an emergency patch job.

Somebody was coming here
for help on the down low

from a doctor.

- Okay, great.

So which doctor was on duty

the night Lassie saw
the bloody guy?

- We were here that day.
Dr. Herschel.

- Guys, I could get
in huge trouble for this.

- Dolores, all the pieces
are falling into place,

so Lassie could be
the next victim.

- I cannot believe Dr. Herschel
could be a villain.

- Really?

It's not like
he emanates warmth.

- Okay, look, I will sneak
you in to protect Carlton,

but you cannot leave this room.

- Of course, thank you, Dolores.

You're the best.

Ice chips.
- Funyuns.

- You can get 'em both.
- Me?

- Why do I have to risk
sneaking around?

- Jackal says what?
- What?

Man.

- Hey, Lass.

Quick ask, you know,
between two gentlemen.

When you first found out
that Marlowe was "with child,"

would you say that you were
overcome with joy

or was it more like
panic and confusion

and, um, a lack of oxygen?

Asking for a friend.

Eh.

- Guster.

- Henry?
What are you doing here?

- I need to see Shawn,
but first, you're gonna tell me

why he was having an extra
sensitive cow earlier.

Something is going on.
- Oh.

- I know my son.
- No, mm-mm.

- Guster.
- Mm-mm.

- Spit!

- Fine.
I'ma tell you one time.

Shawn, Juliet...

"Eliminate hippies."

Gus, don't you come in here
without those blue ice chips.

I'm gonna make you feed me
like a Jamaican baby bird.

What are you doing here?

And why are you looking
at me like that?

- I think I might have crossed
a line back at the office.

I saw something
that I'd never seen.

I think I hurt you.

- No.
No, you didn't hurt me.

- Maybe just a little.

- That's not possible.
I'm impervious.

- Shawn, look.

Being a dad, it isn't easy.

- Is this your version
of an apology?

- Shawn, would you
let me finish?

It isn't easy, but it may be

the best thing a man can do

in his entire lifetime.

Look, what I'm just trying
to say is

that if you're so lucky,
you'll see the day

that your kid is born.

No... whenever that happens.

Your heart, it goes from being
inside your chest

to outside your body
to this other being

it attaches itself to,
who now owns it.

And it swings around
like a frickin' tether ball.

Boom.

You never get it back
and that's the torture.

And I recommend it highly.

- Yeah, well, I don't know
if it's recommended for me.

All due respect, Dad,
I'm not like you.

- No.
Oh, no, you're not.

And that's why you'll be
better than me.

- This is weird
and uncomfortable.

- Yeah, weird.
How can I help?

- Well, I'm supposed to finish

this list of errands for Lassie.

There are 93 items
and I'm on number two.

- Who the hell writes
this small?

- Uh... that is really small.
Let me show you something.

You can use the camera.

You click that and then pinch.

zhoop.

- Ooh.
- Magnification.

- That is sweet Daddy blue eyes.

Wait.
What is that indentation?

"Silent partner."

Dad, he wrote "silent partner,"

and that's the date
of the shooting.

That's why he went
to the warehouse,

to meet with the victim.

Do you think
you could get this...

- Analyzed?
- Yeah.

- I'll be back in two hours.
- Great.

We'll stay here and watch
Lassie, like real men.

- I got greedy, Shawn.
I took everything.

I sure hope none of
these patients get dry mouth.

- My God.
Is that a bundt cake?

- The nurse's lounge
was unlocked too.

- Did you bring forks?
- Come on, son.

- And we're back.

Thanks, Dad.

Sweet.
That looks unusually moist.

Ow.
- That's yours.

- Gus, goo-gooing
in your sleep again.

Knock it off.

- What the...

- Mary?

What?

What the hell are
you doing here, man?

- I'm a baby, Shawn.
It's glorious.

I just finished teething.

Hey, have you
ever been swaddled?

It's like a joyful
mummification.

- What is that?
Why are you doing that?

- Hey, could you do
a quick pivot

and get me out of this diaper?

Because I just filled it,

and I am a little uncomfortable
with how right that felt to do.

- Okay.
Okay.

I see what's going on here.

I got news for everybody.

I don't know how to change
a diaper, okay?

I'm not ready for you.

I don't care what my dad says.

And what does that mean?

Let's talk about that.
Let's unpack that.

- What it means is that
I get why you're here,

but the only thing I know
about fatherhood is

what I learned from all eight
episodes of "Manimal."

- What I need to know is,
where do you land

on the whole
nurture versus nature thing?

I.e. might you offer up
your teat?

- I absolutely will not.

How 'bout a lullaby, then?

Something in G major maybe,
if it suits you, sir.

- All right,
but if I sing to you,

will you go to sleep,
you strange little baby-man?

- That's the idea.

- # So, kid #
- # May I please #

- # No, you can't
have this teat #

- # Such a tease #

- # So, kid #
- # Just a squeeze #

- # It's just a figure
of speech #

# Would you please go to sleep #

- # How can I fall asleep? #

# When I can't have this teat #

- # But you can't have
this teat #

Shawn.

- Who are you gently
and sweetly singing with?

- Gus!
Oh, you look beautiful.

I'd hug ya,
but my nappy's packed

and I could spit up
at any second.

- Do you wanna hear
something funny?

Gus can totally change a diaper.

- You must be
out of your damn mind.

- My point is simply
that you have been ready

for fatherhood your whole life.

You dated a woman with a kid.

You accidentally abducted
some other kid.

All you have to do is copy
what your dad did with you,

because look how you turned out.

That was really sweet, you guys,

in a extremely convoluted way,
but two questions.

One, is there a ladybug
looking over my shoulder?

And two, is there anything else
that you could please

put me in,
so I'm not bouncing here

in my own poop cage?

I don't want to belabor
the point,

but it is getting sloppy.

Whoo!

Have you guys ever seen blue?

Aww.

- Gus, are you seeing
what I'm seeing?

- Wilkerson?
We got jackaled.

- Now, that would be huge
if I wasn't dreaming.

Mary, let me ask you... Mary?

Oh.

- Gus, what is this?
Why are we doing this?

- He's resisting, Shawn!

- Get off of me!
- Are you sure?

It seems a bit one-sided.

- He's a merman!

He's a merman, Shawn with gills!

I can't hold him down
on account of his slippery,

scaly epidermis!

- What is wrong with you two?

- Excuse me, sir.

Are you or are you not a merman?

- No, I'm not a frickin' merman!

- Gus.
Gus!

No gills.

So let me get this straight.

You've just been pretending
this whole time?

- No, not the whole time.

I mean, I still have
some numbness on my right side,

but I can get around, obviously.

And you can't tickle for crap.

- Why are you doing this?
Is this an insurance thing?

And is that a cactus
growing out of your head?

- No and no
and stop touching my scar, man.

- I gotta wake up.
Wake up, Gus.

- Gus.
- Wake up, come on.

- Gus, Gus, Gus!
- What?

- We're not sleeping, dude.

I think baby Mary
was a hallucination.

I'm pretty sure Wilkerson's
the real deal,

but we're tripping on something.

- No, not something,
psychotropes.

You suddenly feel like
you wanna confess something?

- Yeah.

I used to have a major thing
for Jewel,

even after the Civil War movie
and the Bollywood song.

I mean, the tooth
and the van story,

she could yodel...

- Somehow they're getting them
into the patients' meds.

I stopped taking mine,
but it didn't help.

- Carlton may have seen
a zombie.

Did you know there are bodies
in your fields?

Oh, gosh, it's the ice chips.

- What?
- Oh, that's just diabolical.

They know everything.

That's how they get you.

Hey, look, if they find out
that I'm still lucid,

I'm a dead man walking, okay?

I have money.
I can pay you guys.

But please don't give me up,

not after what they did
to my best friend.

- Devon Tileback?
- Yes, how'd you know that?

- We didn't.
- Until now.

- You're the silent partner.

Tell us everything you know
and your truth

will be safe in the vault
of secrets.

- Um, we had an IPO coming up

and, um, we were cooking
the books that the company...

- No!
- It was Tileback's idea.

- Shame.
- I just... I went along with it.

The lying was killing me.
I was having panic attacks.

And the next thing you know
I'm recovering here

from a stroke.

And apparently
I spilled everything

to Herschel during therapy,

because a few days later,
a guy shows up

at our office saying
he knows everything.

And he offers to keep
his mouth shut for a price.

A steep price.

Tileback played along
for a little while,

but once the IPO was announced,

they wanted to bleed us dry.

Tileback tried
to secretly meet up

with Chief Lassiter,
and they shot the Chief.

They tracked Tileback down
and they cut off his hand

as a warning.

He tried to disappear,
but they found him

and then they killed him.

- Who is "they"?
- I don't know, I don't know.

They have someone working
on the outside,

doing all their dirty work
so that they can't be connected

to the recovery house.

Devon was so scared
and now he's dead.

And I will be too
if they ever see me walking.

- Then why are you packing up
your stuff and leaving?

- Because obviously,
it's not safe

for me here either.

- Hey, hey, hey.

Your secret is safe
in the vault of secrets.

- Redundant.

- From one jackal to another,

sit tight until we figure out
who's on the outside,

because that's the guy
who shot the chief of police.

- It's Herschel and his twin.
- What?

- There's one guy standing
over there, Gus.

How many of those ice chips
did you eat?

- I just ate the last one.

- You kept eating them
after we knew

they were laced
with hallucinogens?

- I can't help it, Shawn.
I run island hot.

- Ha!
Dr. Hersch... Woody!

- Well, hey, guys.
How are we doing?

- What are you two
still doing here?

- I get to cover
the night rounds

for Dr. Herschel.

- Dr. Herschel's gone?

- Tell me that isn't the guy
I was supposed to be watching.

- You know, not to pile
on the criticisms, Woody,

but we're actually trying
to close up this case quietly,

which means keeping
the evidence hidden

until we know who
the outside triggerman is.

- This is new stuff.
- What?

- Yeah, I went looking
for that Chiclet I coughed up...

You know, five day rule
and all...

I saw that we missed
some of the hidden bandages.

- Wait a minute.

Is this a smoky topaz-brown
earmuff or am I imagining it?

- I don't know anybody who
would wear a bloody earmuff.

- Gus, I know where
the outside man is.

- Shawn, will you get
your hand off my knee?

- Gus, for the last time.

Someone from this ice bar

went to the Herschel House
covered in blood

and got stitched up
mob doctor style.

Our highly skilled tracking dog,

along for the assist
with this earmuff,

is going to lead us
right to them.

- Shawn, we've done
this routine before.

Do you not know the definition
of insanity?

- Gus, please,
I'm going to leave

the leash on this time.

- So?
- Morrissey, smell this muff.

Ow.
Good news, bad news.

- What's the bad news?

- He ate the earmuff.

- What's the good news?

- He clearly took on the scent,
Gus, body and soul,

and he will now lead us
to the owner of said muff.

- Come on, son.

- I'll be damned.

- You're almost in, man.
Come on, come on.

- What?
- Ah!

- It took four minutes for you
to get inside that window.

- Juliet Spencer O'Hara.

- Shawn, I have never been
more angry with you.

- You can't be angry.
- Why?

- Your blood pressure,
obviously.

- What?
My blood pressure is fine.

What are you doing here?

- We are trying to solve
this case

so that you don't get busted.

We have evidence that the guy
Lassie thought he imagined

is actually real,
came from this place,

and is a VIP.

More importantly,
what are you doing here?

You shouldn't be alone.

- I'm not alone.

- I wasn't gonna let her
come here alone.

And where's this evidence?

- Currently?
Morrissey's stomach.

- Or in his intestines.

- By the way, it could come
back up at any time.

What's your lead?

- Final bullet
that shot Lassiter.

I found it.

- And I found the gun
with the information

she didn't directly give to me.

- Nice, babe.
I'm proud of you.

Now, is there anything else
you'd like to say to me?

- Yes.
- Wait.

All right, I'm ready.

- The slug was traced to

a rare Norwegian-made pistol
registered to Ova Asblorn.

- No, not that.
- Ova?

The bar owner?

No, no.

He's just a sweet retiree

enjoying the second chapter
of his life,

owning a mountaintop
watering hole.

- We're talking
about Ova Asblorn?

- Yes.
- The Butcher of Bodo?

- The Butcher of what?

- No, Bodo, Bodo.
Purse your lips.

- That's a dope nickname.

- Unless he's an actual butcher.

Then it's a little on the nose.

- No, Ova's a gunrunner,
a drug dealer, an extortionist,

ran a major crime syndicate
in Norway.

At least, before he almost died.

- I used to run
a different business.

- Please stop touching my scar.

- Oh, my gooshen, Gus.
Ova had a stroke.

He was a patient
in the Herschel House.

- He's the outside man
and Lassiter's shooter.

- Which means Dr. Herschel's
on the inside

digging out the dirty secrets
of his rich-ass patients.

- Feeding them to Ova
on the outside

to shake down the victims.

- Nobody ever put those two
together until now.

- And we just figured out
the final piece.

- Nasty dance.
Wood on wood.

Nasty dance.

- Guys.
- Morrissey?

Uh-oh.

I guess it's not Ova.

- It's Ova.
- Yeah, but it's not "ova."

- Shawn, it's Ova.

- Gus, this is
nowhere near "ova."

- It's Ova right there, Shawn.
- Guys.

- Well...

- That dog doesn't care
about anything.

- Okay, we gotta get
out of here.

- Oh, come on, dude.

Did you just put
on a dead man's earmuffs?

- He can have them back

whenever he wants them back,
Shawn.

- Got him.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Per... Pern... Per...

What am I looking for?

- I have to roll the R
like that?

- Yes.

Per, listen to me, man.

I see it.
- That's Per. He's my son.

He's already displeased
with me and my career choices.

- Your dad, sweet old Ova,
right?

He suddenly has a stroke
and then boom,

he wants to go down
the straight and narrow, huh?

He wants to turn over
a new leaf and he gives up

the family business.

- What?
- What are you saying?

- I waited my whole life
for my moment.

- Right, fathers,
they disappoint us, man.

That's what they do, trust me.
I know.

Sometimes, in very rare cases,
the hospitals

that care for them use
their secrets

to blackmail their families,
right?

- Well, they tried,
but I changed the deal,

made myself a partner.

- No, you're going
into Norwegian again, man.

We don't have the...

- Your friend Lassiter,
he got too close.

I didn't think he'd make it
after I shot him.

- Chief, help me out here.
What is he saying?

- How should I know?

- Aren't you Swedish
or something?

- No.

- Then did he see my face?
Did he remember anything?

Well, there was only one way
to find out.

Get him into the right recovery
home and watch him.

Gus?

What are you guys doing
back here?

- How many of you are there?

- Selene?
- Gus?

I went to the hospital.
I saw her, your nurse.

- What?
- Yeah.

You know, I don't hate her.
She's kind, pretty.

I mean, I really wish
she wasn't your choice...

- She's not my choice.
- No, just stay here!

Stay here!
- Stop, stop, all of you!

There's only one way this ends,
so let's just get on with it.

She dies first.
- Oh, no, you won't!

- Shawn, step back!

- You will not shoot my wife.

She's pregnant.

- What?
- Jules, I know and I'm ready.

That's a lie.
I'm not ready.

I'm not even sort of ready,
but I mean, I figure

once the whole two-year
gestation period

plays itself out... I mean,
how far along are we?

- Shawn.

- I'm just trying to figure out
how much time we have.

I have.
We're not talking hours, right?

Like, nothing's gonna break
and start cascading, right?

Nothing like...

- Shawn, if this some sort

of weird distraction move,
stop it.

Step out of the open!

- I'm not gonna let you shoot
Shules' baby either.

- What's a Shules?

- You people are making
my head hurt.

- Shawn, step out of the open
or I will shoot you myself.

I am not pregnant.

- Can you two figure this out
in your own time?

- Sweetheart, I get it,
you wanted to tell me yourself,

but I saw the pregnancy test
in your car.

- What?
- Excuse me.

Um, may I speak to my friends,
please?

- Well, by all means.

Gus, I couldn't find you
for two days.

You went radio silent on me,

and I wanted to see
how you really felt about us

before I told you.

- Told me what?

- The pregnancy test is mine.

Praise be.

- Me.

- I know you hate
the late night routine,

Carlton, but bottoms up.

- Hey, I don't recognize
any of these pills.

- Hmm?

Oh, that's 'cause those ones
are different.

Those are designed to make
you go to sleep forever.

And if you don't take them,

then I will just throw a shot
of this into your drip

and Bob will still be
your uncle, I'm afraid.

- Go for it.

- Oh, have it your way, Carlton.

That gorgeous black friend
of yours

and his sidekick are not
gonna make it back.

They were easy to manipulate.

Truth be told, I like you,
Carlton.

You got soft lips
and a chest full of hair

plentiful enough to wig
all of Destiny's Child,

so trust me when I say
this is the last thing

I wanted to do today.

- How can you be mixed up

with something like this?

- Mixed up?

Oh, right, this couldn't
possibly be my idea, right?

I mean, as a woman, I must have
been compromised

or forced to participate, right?

This was all my idea.
All my baby.

And that Boy Scout Herschel
couldn't be more oblivious.

And all you had to do
was lie there

and eat those ice chips, but no,

you and the get-along gang
just could not leave

well enough alone.

- Open your eyes, Carlton.

You're not going anywhere.

I'm afraid I'm gonna have
to put my foot down.

- I think I'm done.

I'm no good to anyone like this.

Can't think straight.
I can't walk.

I'm just so tired, Pop.

- Aw, is it your daddy?

Is he back?

Well, you tell him
you're gonna see him very soon.

- So tired.
- Think about Marlowe.

Think about Lily.
They need you.

- Like I needed you?

- I am so sorry
that I wasn't with you,

but I promise I didn't miss
a single thing.

The day you caught
your first fish...

When you hit your first
and only home run,

it was a foul ball.

- I know.

- Well, I wasn't going
to tell anyone.

I was dead.

- I'm so proud of you, Carlton.

- You said you were
gonna be fine.

You said Lassiters tough it out.

I never got to say good-bye.

- Yeah.

It was supposed to be
a routine bypass.

It was a blood clot.

But you, you have a choice.

You are not done yet.

- What if I don't get better?

How am I supposed to teach Lily
how to fly fish

with just one working hand?

- You will get better,
so live for us both.

Be the husband and father
that I didn't get to be.

You gotta fight, Carlton.
Fight for your family.

Fight for your queen.

- Just so tired, Pop.

Just let me sleep
for ten minutes.

- Oh, that's it.

Sweet, sweet surrender.

It's all gonna be over soon.

- Carlton, get up.

Don't give up, Carlton.
Open your eyes.

Good-bye, Carlton.

- That's my boy.

- How did you get that gun
in here?

- He actually has three.

One in the chair,
one in the fireplace,

and one right up his chute,
a little John Dilly.

- Dad, I got this.

And I forgive you.

I'm sorry.
I just miss you so much,

and I'm damn proud
to be a Lassiter.

You have the right
to remain silent.

- He can go by Danger,
he can go by Shaft,

He can go by Shafty,
he can go by De'Shaft.

- That's God's comma.

- Yes, it does... has
the God comma in it.

- Excuse me, Shawn.
- Yes?

- Can I talk to my baby's daddy?

- Of course.
- Thank you.

- Come on, son.
- Come on, son.

- How are you feeling,

my little chocolate chippy-chip?

- Oh, I'm fine.

You know I didn't really
faint before.

I was just resting my legs.

- Yes, rest those legs.
- Mm-hmm.

- Now listen.

I know all of this happened
very fast.

- Yes.

- So, Burton Guster...

Will you...
- Oh, timeout.

Uh, Selene, I think
you've flipped-flopped

the situation here.

- Shawn.
- You're ruining everything.

This is exactly how
I imagined it would go.

- I'm gonna be a godmother.

- Chief.
- Hmm?

- She's my best friend.

- So, Burton Guster,
will you make me

the happiest woman
on this planet,

on Ares and Pluto...

- And Pluto?
- And marry me?

- Yes, I will do that.

Now...
- Ooh.

- Selene, will you marry me

and protect me from spiders
and polar bears and...

agree to live next door
to Shawn and Jules

and have connecting pools
in our backyards

and a lazy river running
through our living rooms?

- Oh, that's a ton to unpack.
- It is.

- You know what?
Yes, I will!

Yes!
- What?

Yes!

- Aww, ooh, yeah.

- Sure you're not upset
about the whole no kid thing?

- What?
Oh, not even a little.

- Oh, I love you.
- Oh, yeah.

- You're my person.
- Yeah.

- Mwah.

Now, we just have one tiny,
little detail to iron out.

- What's that?
- I'm still married.

- What?
- Don't worry about it.

We'll figure it out.
- What?

- How's it feel?

Blessed be the fruit, huh?

all: Yay, yay, yay, yay!

- You guys, uh...

You guys go ahead.

I'm gonna stay behind.

- Wait, here?

- Yes.

I spoke to Butterfly.

She just wants me
to live my best life.

Also, she hates me.

I think this is where
I'm meant to be.

From now on,
I will be Dr. Catalon,

and you two are sworn
to keep my secret.

- Excuse me, Dr. Catalon.
- Oh!

- I'm sorry to say
I'm a bit flummoxed.

There appears to be someone
here claiming to be you.

- Oh, really?

- Gentlemen, the door.

- Carlton, that is what
they call a collar's collar.

- And I knew the second
they admitted you to

this beautiful facility
that, someday,

you'd find a way to discharge
your weapon inside.

- Thank you, both of you.

- What for?
- How much time you got, Henry?

- So, are you ready
to see Marlowe?

- The question is,
is she ready to see me?

- Oh, I think she's ready
to see you.

- Oh, O'Hara,
I made her go away.

- I know you did.

- I couldn't stand the thought
of her seeing me like this

one more day stuck in that bed
and stuck in this chair.

That woman's the greatest thing
that's ever happened to me.

- Agree.
- To agree.

- Hello, my love.

- Stop.
Please.

- I-I'm sorry.

Did I...?

- Hi.
- Hi.

- I just wanted
to look my wife in the eye

when I said,
"Let's go home."

- I love you so much, baby.

- I love you.
I love you.

- Bye, Pop.

- There he goes!
- Hey, hey!

Hey, wait up!
- Sir... sir, stop!

- # In Paris, they are free #

# In Stockholm, they roam #

# In Denmark, they wear
little clogs on their paws #

- # They have no fear of death #

# They don't steal
children's breath #

# That's a rumor
concocted by dogs #

- # Ah, the cats, the cats,
the cats #

# Round and round they go #

- # Call them gato or chat #

# Tell you I will not #

# I will not throw away
mon chat #