The Blueberry sped through the streets of Santa Barbara, its engine making a sound that Shawn Spencer insisted was “majestic,” but Burton Guster knew was actually a cry for an oil change.
“It’s for the wax museum, you moron,” Lassiter sighed. “And Chet? He’s the lead restoration artist. I’ve been trailing him because he’s the only one who can identify the thief.”
Just then, a figure dashed from the shadows. Without thinking, Gus dropped into a perfect sprinter’s crouch. “He’s messing with the wedding vibes, Shawn! Nobody messes with the vibes!” Psych 3: This Is Gus
Later, back at the Psych office, Gus straightened his tie. “We still have to get to the rehearsal dinner, Shawn. And if you mention the wax museum to Selene, I will replace all your pineapple smoothies with kale juice.”
Gus let out a long, high-pitched breath of relief. “See, Shawn? He’s not a spy. He’s just a man who loves candles and smooth finishes. Like me.” He paused, sniffing the air. “Is that… Himalayan Sea Salt wax?” “Don’t start,” Lassiter warned. The Blueberry sped through the streets of Santa
Gus looked at the Pineapple on the desk, then at Shawn. “Fine. But you’re paying for the car wash. There’s bubble wrap stuck to the bumper.”
“You’ve been Gusted,” Shawn shouted, appearing out of nowhere to strike a psychic pose. He’s the lead restoration artist
“It’s not a side quest, Gus. It’s a pre-nuptial investigative odyssey,” Shawn replied, wearing a plastic crown he’d found in a cereal box. “My third eye is vibrating. Not twitching—vibrating. That means the mystery is succulent.”