Psych 3: This Is Gus Page

They pulled up to a dilapidated warehouse labeled Ventura’s Vintage Velveteen . Shawn hopped out, doing a dramatic tuck-and-roll that ended with him face-planting into a pile of discarded bubble wrap. “You okay?” Gus asked, not moving from the car.

“Gus, don’t be the only spark plug in a diesel engine,” Shawn grinned. “We saved the wax, we saved the wedding, and I didn’t even have to use my backup mustache. I’d call that a ‘This Is Gus’ win.”

Gus sprinted, his legs a blur of motion, cornering the thief behind a crate of velvet capes. With a flick of his wrist, Gus used a nearby velvet sash to trip the suspect. Psych 3: This Is Gus

Shawn gasped, clutching his head. “The spirits say… it’s for candles! Giant, ceremonial candles for a cult of people who hate wick-less lighting!”

“Exactly! A botanist... or a deep-cover operative for the International Jelly League?” They pulled up to a dilapidated warehouse labeled

“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.”

As they crept inside, the floorboards groaned under Gus’s expensive Italian leather loafers. Suddenly, the lights flickered on. Standing there wasn't a spy, but Lassiter, looking sharper and more annoyed than ever. “Gus, don’t be the only spark plug in

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.”