Gus - Psych 3: This Is

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.

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. Psych 3: This Is Gus

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!” As they crept inside, the floorboards groaned under

“You’ve been Gusted,” Shawn shouted, appearing out of nowhere to strike a psychic pose. They pulled up to a dilapidated warehouse labeled

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 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.”

“Spencer. Guster,” Lassiter growled, holstering his weapon. “I assume you’re here because of the stolen shipment of high-grade artisanal wax?”