Psych: At the Gay Bar (Gus/Shawn, PG-13, ~8,000w.)
It's kind of like my brain is a factory of ridiculous ideas. I'd say the Gus/Shawn and case-ishness of this are at about the level of the show.
*
Gus/Shawn, PG-13, ~8,000w.
The one where they're gay BFFs. "I have early onset hypothermia, Shawn, hurry up."
At the Gay Bar
1985.
[INT. SHAWN SPENCER'S BEDROOM.
It is nighttime. Gus and Shawn are lying side-by-side on Shawn's bed.]
GUS: Your turn to be the pillow.
SHAWN: I was the pillow last night!
GUS: [shakes head] No, you were the blanket last night.
SHAWN: Fine, but next sleepover you're going to be the pillow and the blanket.
GUS: [yawns, dropping his head onto Shawn's stomach] Okay.
*
[INT. SANTA BARBARA POLICE STATION.
It is morning. Gus and Shawn walk down the hallway.]
SHAWN: Cat-Ra was the Lassiter of Etheria. She was always going about her merry evil business, trying to foil She-Ra's plans, but ultimately --
GUS: I am not going to be Madame Razz in this analogy.
SHAWN: Who said anything about Madame Razz?
GUS: You know she freaks me out, Shawn. Her eyebrows were on her hat, well above her hairline. Who does that?
SHAWN: Anyway, you're obviously Glimmer --
GUS: Why can't I be Bow?
SHAWN: Duh, your blue hair.
GUS: If you want to give up your male genitalia to be She-Ra, that's your problem. I'm going to be He-Man. [lifts chin] I definitely have the jaw for it.
SHAWN: The whole incest thing is going to make it really awkward when we have sex.
GUS: Which is never going to happen, so all the more reason.
McNAB: [appears from seemingly nowhere] Chief's waiting in her office, guys, she doesn't seem too happy.
SHAWN: It's not our fault this is hallway stretches to exactly the distance we need to finish our conversation.
GUS: Actually, that would imply that it's totally our fault.
SHAWN: What, now the universe expects me to cut short my lyrical flow?
GUS: We all pray for the day.
[They approach Chief Vick's door.]
McNAB: What are you guys waiting for?
SHAWN: I was going to be a gentleman and let Gus go in first.
GUS: [crosses arms over chest] You mean a chicken.
SHAWN: Dude, you know you're my I-am-rubber-you-are-glue human shield, with your reflective pecs and those smoldering nostrils.
GUS: There is nothing in that statement that can even remotely be construed as a compliment.
SHAWN: Come on, Gus, think of the Twiggets in the Whispering Woods. Who will save them?
GUS: You already tricked with that once, Shawn, I'm not falling for it again --
McNAB: [opens Vick's door]
VICK: Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster! What have I told you about keeping your cell phones on at all times?
[Gus and Shawn slink into Chief Vick's office.
O'Hara is standing to the right of Gus and Shawn, Lassiter to the left, with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. Chief Vick is seated at her desk and leveling them all with a very disapproving expression.]
SHAWN: I keep telling Gus that he can't turn our phones off every single time he wants to get a taste of the Shawn sweetness --
VICK: We absolutely do not need to know, Mr. Spencer. Now, please. [gestures at chairs]
[Gus and Shawn sit.]
VICK: Now that you've finished with that private case you were working, we'd like to bring you in on an ongoing investigation we're conducting. [nods at O'Hara]
O'HARA: [hands Gus and Shawn files] Last week on Thursday night, Tyson Verde disappeared from the nightclub Gayopolis.
SHAWN: [mouths "Gayopolis?" at Gus]
VICK: He's the D.A.'s son-in-law. I'm sure it goes without saying that we'd prefer to keep this under the radar.
SHAWN: Or does it?
GUS: Well, since she said it, no.
VICK: Then how about I put it in terms you might understand? The D.A. would like to protect her family from the media circus if it all possible, and if you two get in the way of that, I will personally see to it that neither of you finds employment within the Santa Barbara city limits ever again. Do I make myself clear?
SHAWN: Like a pane of freshly squeegeed glass.
O'HARA: So far, we've managed to keep it relatively quiet in the press, but with elections coming up next month we're running against the clock.
[Shawn leafs through file. Vision zooms in on the victim's age, 24, and the time of disappearance, estimated 2:23AM.]
SHAWN: [raises index finger to temple] I'm sensing Tyson wasn't planning on leaving the club alone.
O'HARA: [looks impressed] That's right. He tried to leave with someone -- Jack Ramamurthy -- but somewhere between the dance floor and the door he disappeared.
SHAWN: Has anyone checked the bathrooms? I don't know about you guys, but whenever I venture into a bathroom at a gay club I don't come out for a solid two weeks. Usually with only a feather boa to cover myself and a small Hobbit named Tuck hanging onto my ankle.
LASSITER: You know, Spencer, I thought just this once, being that you're a member of the targeted demographic, you might have some sort of insight to offer that wasn't completely without value. I'm happy to say you've proven me wrong.
SHAWN: I'm here all day, Lassiekins, and there's plenty more disappointment where that came from.
VICK: [narrows eyes at Shawn] I'm sure that I don't need to stress the vital importance of getting this matter resolved. Tyson Verde's life is at stake.
GUS: [elbows Shawn] Of course.
SHAWN: We're on it, Chief. Just point us in the right direction and Swiftwind here and I will fly towards it like -- like --
GUS: Do not say the wind.
SHAWN: Yeah, I realized halfway in that wasn't going to --
GUS: If you say fly I will smack you.
SHAWN: Geeze, Gus, what's with you today? Usually you love my redundant and obvious puns.
VICK: Boys. [Gus and Shawn look contrite.] Now, Detective O'Hara is already in place undercover at Gayopolis --
[Gus and Shawn both repress laughter.]
VICK: [quells them with a look] She's working as a bartender.
O'HARA: From seven to twelve, when it's the Cat Club. [smiles and points at the top of her head] I get to wear little ears.
VICK: And I want you two to get close to Gayopolis --
[Gus and Shawn clutch their sides, strangled sounds emerging from their mouths.]
VICK: I'm sorry, is something funny?
SHAWN: [breathless] Nooooo.
GUS: [coughs, straightening a tie that he's not wearing] Definitely not.
VICK: As I was saying, I want you to get close to Gayopolis and figure out what's going on there. Follow up on anything, no matter how insignificant. The clock is ticking. [gestures at Lassiter] Detective Lassiter is leading the task force here at the station, and you will liaise with him for any backup support you might need.
SHAWN: [looks like he's about to make a joke about the kind of back up support Lassiter can give him]
GUS: [glares]
SHAWN: [sighs]
VICK: [looks at them all] Get me results, people. Dismissed.
*
[EXT. GAYOPOLIS BUILDING.
It is afternoon. Gus and Shawn stand out front, looking at the sign, which is a cityscape done in rainbow and the word GAYOPOLIS beneath in glittering pink.]
SHAWN: I feel twenty percent gayer looking at this sign.
GUS: I came here a couple times, in college. This place makes the strongest drinks on the pink strip. Dude, this one time, after finals? I had six Mango Tangos and all I remember after that is waking up in a pair of tube socks hanging from some rafters down on the South side of town, ten hours later, no idea how I'd gotten there.
SHAWN: Tube socks?
GUS: [shrugs] They matched my sweatervest.
SHAWN: Only you, Gus. Only you would wear a sweatervest clubbing and think that was in any way okay.
[Door to Gayopolis opens, O'Hara pokes her head out. She's wearing a bright red leather mini-skirt and a cut-off white t-shirt with Xena and Gabrielle's faces on it.]
O'HARA: The manager's ready for you guys.
GUS: Manager? I thought we were just here to look around.
SHAWN: [steps out of Gus' smacking range] I maaay have set up interviews for us.
GUS: I am not working at a place called Gayopolis, Shawn. I don't care how out of the closet I am, there is no job this place is going to offer me that I'm going to feel comfortable doing.
SHAWN: Gus, I promise you. I found us jobs that will in no way violate your needlessly complicated morals.
GUS: Fine, but this is not going on my résumé.
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, MAIN ROOM.
It is evening. The club is full, large disco balls turning on the ceiling and bouncing colored lights all over the dance floor. The majority of the crowd is young, a mix of women and men. The bartenders are busy serving the long lines at the bar.
O'Hara is serving, now wearing a pair of cat ears, a sparkly red bikini top and a pair of yellow hot pants. Her hair is tied on a ponytail high on her head and bounces with every step she takes.
Gus and Shawn are in the back room behind the bar.]
GUS: I am not going out there.
SHAWN: Oh, come on. You look great. [smacks Gus on ass]
[Gus turns around, giving Shawn a murderous look. He punches Shawn on the shoulder, hard.]
SHAWN: Ow!
GUS: That's for getting me this job. [punches him again]
SHAWN: Ow! [clutches shoulder] And that? What could that possibly be for?
GUS: General principle. Now get out of the way. I quit.
SHAWN: [stops Gus with a hand on his chest] Gus. A man is missing. We have to do this.
GUS: And you couldn't have gotten us normal jobs? Like busboys or coat checkers or something that doesn't require me being almost naked?
SHAWN: I'm really not seeing the downside.
GUS: I have this little thing, Shawn. It's called pride.
SHAWN: [sighs] Gus, you know I'm way too fabulous to have my hands chafed from the harsh soaps they use at places like this. And coat checking? Really? Come on. Besides. [waves hand in the vicinity of Gus' hips] All you need to do is break out the caterpillar and they'll be eating out of your hand.
GUS: Yeah, well. [nods reluctantly] I also do a mean kangaroo.
SHAWN: That's the spirit. Now you just ease yourself out there at whatever pace is comfortable for you, buddy, I got your back -- [uses two hands to push Gus out the door].
GUS: Shaaaawn!
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, DANCING CAGE ON STAGE.
Gus, clad only in orange hot pants, is standing reluctantly off to the side, his knees turned in, big toes touching. Shawn is in the middle, clad in purple hot pants, gyrating wildly.]
SHAWN: Dude! [dances over towards Gus] If there were ever a time to bust out the kangaroo, Gus, it's now.
GUS: I can't move, Shawn. I am physically paralyzed by indignity.
SHAWN: [humps the middle pole] Don't be ridiculous. I know that deep down in there a dancing queen is just waiting to come out.
GUS: If that's supposed to be a euphemism implying that I am overly feminized and not up to the hyper-masculine standards of your little playing-at-heteronormativity segment of the baby Bear subculture, I'll have you know that not only do I not care, I refuse to be subjugated by your definition of queer norms.
SHAWN: [stops humping, tilting his head to the side] So that's a no on the Mamma Mia karaoke later?
GUS: I'm done. Tell Gay Andy I quit. I will have no part of --
[A young, attractive man slips a twenty in the waistband of Gus' hotpants, smiling up at him. Gus pulls the bill out of pants, examining it. He looks at Shawn.]
GUS: You said we get to keep our tips?
SHAWN: [nods, grinning while hip-thrusting towards the general direction of the crowd]
GUS: Now that's what I'm talking about. [shoves Shawn out of way and starts caterpillaring]
[Crowd cheers and clamors forward, bills waving in air.]
SHAWN: [looks down at his own waistband, free of dollar bills, expression annoyed and maybe a little sad]
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, BACKSTAGE ROOM.
The room is full of go-go boys coming off their shift. There are velvet couches and fold-out chairs. Gus and Shawn enter, Shawn still in his hotpants, Gus with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Shawn's vision zooms in on a zebra-and-leopard print couch. There is a man sitting on it, drinking a soda and relaxing. His hair is fifteen different colors and pointed in every direction. He has matched armband tattoos of train sets circling his biceps.]
SHAWN: Dude. Plush. [walks directly over and sits down]
GUS: [approaches, sits down on other side of man, hand clutched tightly on towel]
SHAWN: What up, fellow dancing -- [looks at Gus] -- er, Czar.
MAN: [looks confused]
SHAWN: Emporer?
GUS: Monarch.
SHAWN: He's not a butterfly, Gus.
MAN: You're the new guys, right?
SHAWN: That's us. [gestures] This is my life partner, Giant Sea Turtle.
GUS: [moves hands like a swimming turtle]
SHAWN: And you can call me The Hare.
CURTIS: Curtis Wong. Welcome aboard.
SHAWN: How do you feel about conflict mediation?
CURTIS: [looks confused] Um. Okay?
SHAWN: Great! Because Turtle here and I are having a pretty sticky one. See, he's got this thing for this guy named Tyson Verde, and I think Jack Ramamurthy is waaaay cuter, and we were just wondering where you stood on the whole matter.
CURTIS: [shrugs] I'm in a long-term committed relationship.
SHAWN: How old are you?
CURTIS: Twenty-one.
SHAWN: So long term is, what, two weeks?
CURTIS: Seven years.
GUS: [impressed] Congratulations.
CURTIS: [smiles] Me and Amir, you know. Been together since we both came out when we were fifteen.
GUS: That's amazing.
CURTIS: Hasn't always been easy, but we make it work. But, hey, Turtle, man, you aren't the only one who wants a piece of Tyson. Half the guys in here are after him every night.
SHAWN: [looks at Gus] Is that a fact?
CURTIS: Yeah, he only goes for real hot model types, though.
SHAWN: [angles jaw to catch the light] Like myself.
CURTIS: Uh.
GUS: I think he means like Jack Ramamurthy.
CURTIS: [nods] Yeah. I mean, not that I'm looking, but Jack is...
SHAWN: Oh, believe me. [sighs dramatically] I know.
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, MAIN ROOM.
Gus and Shawn are standing at the corner of the bar. O'Hara waves at them, busy serving drinks.]
GUS: What now?
SHAWN: Now, we find that hot model type Tyson was trying to take home. [whips out photograph of Jack Ramamurthy]
GUS: Do I even want to know where you've been keeping that?
SHAWN: Probably not, no.
GUS: The police interrogated this guy twice. His alibi's rock solid.
SHAWN: Much like his enormous biceps. [hands picture to Gus, who holds it away from himself with two fingers] I plan to go over both with very thoroughly.
GUS: We better be wearing pants for this.
SHAWN: If you insist.
*
[INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY.
Gus and Shawn are standing outside a door. They are dressed in their normal clothes, although Shawn has a hint of purple peeking out from under his jeans. Shawn knocks on the door.
Jack Ramamurthy opens the door. He is in his early 20s, has curly hair and is wearing vintage clothes and a silver ring on his thumb.]
JACK: Yes?
SHAWN: Hi. My name is Shawn Spencer. I'm the head psychic with the Santa Barbara Police Department, and this is my partner, Honeybaron Whipoorwill.
GUS: [smiles, making a small swirling motion with his index finger in the air]
JACK: More questions, huh?
GUS: If you have a few moments. We apologize for the hour.
JACK: It's fine. I was up anyway.
[Jack opens the door and they enter. His apartment is furnished simply, in bold colors. The TV is on. Gus and Shawn take a seat on his bright blue IKEA couch.]
SHAWN: Word on the gayvine is you were the last guy to see Tyson Verde before he disappeared.
JACK: Yeah, that was me.
GUS: Did anything strange happen before you were separated?
JACK: Not that I saw. I went to the bathroom and he went to get his coat, and we were going to meet at the door in five minutes. When he didn't show, I thought he was jerking my chain and left with my friend.
SHAWN: So you and Tyson weren't already... [wiggles fingers in air suggestively]
JACK: [shakes head] I've seen him around. I like to party, and from what I hear, so does he. But we never really talked before that night.
[Gus and Shawn exchange a look, reaching some kind of silent agreement.]
GUS: Thank you very much for your time. You have a nice night.
*
[INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY.]
SHAWN: Dude, I think my fake crush on that guy just became real.
GUS: He was fine. Think he had anything to do with it?
SHAWN: If he did, he's a good liar.
GUS: And according to the file he has an alibi for the bathroom and the friend he left with.
SHAWN: Sounds like Tyson left a trail of broken hearts behind him. Maybe if we find the one he stomped the hardest one, we'll find our kidnapper.
*
[INT. SANTA BARBARA POLICE STATION.
Gus and Shawn are standing in front of Lassiter's desk.]
SHAWN: Lists, Lassie, we need lists. Preferably with pictures. [waves at temple] My psychic mojo gets bored when there are too many words.
LASSITER: I fail to see the point.
GUS: A place like this, it's going to have tons of regulars. Women and men who go there every single night like clock work looking for a hook-up.
LASSITER: Who would go to that much trouble just for a sexual encounter?
SHAWN: [looks at Gus] Clearly you've never been a 20-something gay guy.
GUS: What, you didn't do any crazy stuff back in college to impress a girl?
LASSITER: One time I discharged my weapon outside a woman's window to let her know I was available for sexual congress.
GUS: Wow.
SHAWN: It is a mystery that you are not more popular with the ladies.
LASSITER: I could not agree more. Anyway, even if I wanted to waste precious resources on your fruitless hunches, we just don't have that kind of information.
[Vick enters, walking quickly.]
VICK: You all need to get to the club, now.
LASSITER: [stands immediately] What's going on?
VICK: We have another suspected kidnapping. O'Hara's handling the scene right now.
LASSITER: We're on it, Chief. [grabs jacket]
VICK: [nods, starts heading back to office and then turns around] Oh, and Detective?
LASSITER: Yes?
VICK: Take a civilian vehicle. Not much chance we'll still be able to keep this under wraps if it is a second kidnapping, but no need to advertise it, either.
[Lassiter and Shawn look at Gus.]
GUS: Fine, but I get to drive.
*
[INT. GUS' CAR.
Gus is driving, Shawn is in the passenger seat, Lassiter is hunched in the back.]
SHAWN: You know, I was picturing this as a cozy vibe, but instead it's awkward and kind of sticky. Think you could dial it back a little, Lassie?
LASSITER: Dial what back?
SHAWN: Oh, I don't know. [waves hand at Lassiter's figure] All of this.
GUS: You are a little... aggressively heterosexual.
LASSITER: Excuse me?
SHAWN: Well, the goal is to blend in.
GUS: Fly under the radar.
SHAWN: Stealth-like.
LASSITER: [scoffs] As if you two buffoons could teach me anything about being stealth.
SHAWN: So when was the last time you went to a gay club?
LASSITER: I -- well.
SHAWN: As I suspected. What do you say, Gus?
GUS: Gotta lose that tie.
SHAWN: Tie. Check.
GUS: And the hair.
SHAWN: And, oh, boy. Lassie, those shoes. I -- I don't even have the words.
LASSITER: I just polished them this morning!
SHAWN: While wearing an ascot?
LASSITER: No, that's only on the weekends.
SHAWN: Well, Gus, you'll be happy to hear we finally have a use for that ridiculously well-stocked bag of clothes you keep in your trunk at all times.
*
[EXT. SIDE STREET BORDERING GAYOPOLIS.
O'Hara is standing near the dumpster with two non-uniformed officers. She is in her bartending uniform. Gus' car pulls up. Gus and Shawn get out, walking over to join her.]
O'HARA: Where's Lassiter? Chief said he was with you.
SHAWN: Lassie! Come on, man. You'll thank us later.
[Lassiter slowly gets out of car. He is wearing aviator glasses, polyester slacks, a paisley shirt, brown-and-white men's shoes with very pointed toes, and his hair is gelled to incredibly high proportions.]
O'HARA: [leans in towards Gus] Wasn't that your Halloween costume?
GUS: [shrugs] He thought it would help him blend in.
[Lassiter approaches, overly casual, thumbs strung through belt loops, chewing on a toothpick.]
LASSITER: Gimme the sitrep, O'Hara.
O'HARA: [clears throat, shaking off smile] Well, at 2:38AM I overheard two civilians discussing the third companion in their group, who was their designated driver, and how they couldn't locate him. His name is Darryl Hawthorne, age 23. Darryl had been talking to someone and mentioned to his friends that they might have to take a cab home. But he never returned to confirm, which according to their accounts is unusual for him. As directed by the Chief, we have been treating any suspicious activity as a crime until proven otherwise, and I instructed two of our undercover agents to search the premises. They found this in the trash.
[O'Hara holds out an evidence bag containing a bloody hat. Shawn steps closer, examining the hat, noting the freshness of the bloodstain. It is white with black stripes and appears to be made out of a mix of natural and synthetic fibers.]
O'HARA: Darryl's hat. The two friends are in a car on the way to the station for statements.
GUS: Does preliminary evidence suggest a pattern?
O'HARA: We're really not sure yet, but the time of disappearance is similar, although we found no indications of violence in relation to Verde's disappearance, however we also got to that scene long after the fact.
LASSITER: No time to clean up his mess.
SHAWN: [vision zooms in the size of the bloodstain] I'm sensing that he used violence because he was caught by surprise. He got sloppy.
O'HARA: I have to get back to my shift. Two of our guys are searching inside, in case the victim is being hidden on the premises. [to Lassiter] See you back at the station. And you two -- go home and get some sleep. We've got another shift to work tomorrow night.
[Gus and Shawn give her matching two-fingered salutes.]
LASSITER: All right, first, you drive me somewhere I can change out of these preposterous clothes. Then back to the station, and, as much as it pains me to admit it, in light of these circumstances, I will be taking your request for a list of regular atendees under advisement.
SHAWN: I knew --
LASSITER: Don't make me reconsider.
SHAWN: -- that I'd be making a "Lassie is awesome" scrapbook this weekend.
GUS: I've got the fabric swatches all picked out.
LASSITER: [rolls eyes and stalks over to car]
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, BEHIND THE BAR.
It is the next night. Gus and Shawn are standing with O'Hara. The crowd at the bar has thinned a bit because of the drag performance going on at the stage; the club's headliner, Angie LaRoux, is singing.]
O'HARA: Two hundred dollars, wow, that's a lot to make on your second night.
GUS: [smiles, petting stack of dollar bills] What can I say? It's a gift.
O'HARA: [wiping down a glass] How much did you make, Shawn?
GUS: [snickers]
SHAWN: [shoots Gus a baleful look] I think we have more important matters to focus on. [reaches down] Like how many of these tiny umbrellas can I fit in my hair? Twenty, perhaps thirty-two?
GUS: [knocks umbrellas out of Shawn's hand]
SHAWN: And who's that guy down there with the awful hair?
[They all look at the other end of the bar. There is another bartender working the other side, re-stocking supplies. He is in his mid-20s. He has brown hair and a bowl cut, and unlike all the other staff, he is dressed in casual streetwear, a t-shirt and jeans.]
O'HARA: Oh, that's the owner's son, Brett.
GUS: [leans in to Shawn] He did it.
SHAWN: Why, Gus. Accusing on first sight. I'm proud of you.
GUS: I've been awake for forty-eight excruciating hours, Shawn. I'd accuse my grandma if it'd get me a decent eight hours' sleep.
O'HARA: Sorry, Gus, no luck. We've already checked out his alibi. He was working both nights and the footage shows that he wouldn't have had time to get the victims out of here. We scoured the place last night and there's nowhere on the premises the kidnapper could have hidden someone.
[As O'Hara is talking, Shawn looks around Gayopolis, noting Angie LaRoux singing a rousing rendition of "It's Raining Men" onstage, her long nails flashing in the multicolored lights and her shining black hair swishing as she moves around the stage. He focuses in on the three EXIT signs and the bouncers in black t-shirts standing at each one.]
SHAWN: [points] Those three doors are the only ways out of here?
O'HARA: [nods] Yeah. Those are our guys we got on staff. They were working during the last disappearance, and here's the weird thing -- they didn't spot anyone suspicious trying to leave through those doors.
SHAWN: [places finger on temple] I sense our culprit found another egret. With wide, white wings and a chipper little beak.
O'HARA: What?
GUS: He means egress. You're sure there's no other way out?
O'HARA: Not that we've found.
*
[EXT. ALLEY BEHIND GAYOPOLIS.]
GUS: I have early onset hypothermia, Shawn, hurry up.
SHAWN: Gus! [holds index finger up, crouching down and looking at the wall] Nut up or shut up.
GUS: Please. You are not even on the same continent as Woody Harrelson, much less the same league.
SHAWN: We both share a love of Val Kilmer, which is more than I can say for you and me.
GUS: [rolls eyes] The last time you tried to spread the Harrelson-Kilmer illicit affair rumor you got yourself a restraining order. Would you just give it up?
SHAWN: Their love is pure, Gus, and until one of them is in my bed, no, I will not give it up. [crouches down lower, looking more closely] I think I've got something.
GUS: [crouches beside Shawn] What?
SHAWN: A really nice view of your abdominals. Have you been doing pilates? Your core is fire, dude.
GUS: Shawn, I'm about to die of exposure. Hotpants are not outdoor wear. Could we get a move on, please?
SHAWN: [gestures] What does this little patch here look like?
GUS: It needs a new coat of paint?
SHAWN: No. Well, yes. But that's besides the point. [leans in and grabs the edge of the patch and starts pulling] You see, Gus, it's also a -- it's also a -- oh my god, my cuticles. What did they seal this with, a lifetime vow of chastity?
[Shawn stumbles back as door comes dislodged, swinging away from the wall.]
SHAWN: As I was saying, I'm pretty sure it's also a door.
GUS: [looks around] And not a bouncer in sight.
SHAWN: Perfect escape route for a would-be kidnapper, don't you think?
GUS: Now what?
SHAWN: Well, Gus, I want you to stand right there, yes, and then we're going to -- [pushes Gus into the dark passageway].
GUS: I'm gonna kill you, Shawn!
SHAWN: [crawls in after Gus] I know you say that with love, buddy.
GUS: [shuffles forward on hands and knees] No, I say that with intent to murder. And you better not be checking out my ass.
SHAWN: [following] It's kind of hard not to, considering it's like a giant Peking duck slathered in orange sauce right in front of me.
GUS: [shuffles faster]
SHAWN: So where do you think it leads?
GUS: Maybe that storage closet we saw when we came in. Wait, I think I see a light up ahead.
[The passageway suddenly widens and they come to a ladder. They each try to climb it first, getting into a slap-fight, and eventually end up each half-climbing it alongside each other until they reach the landing at the top.]
GUS: Another door. At least this one's normal-sized.
SHAWN: I feel a little like Alice when she accidentally mixes E with her poppers.
GUS: What fairy tales did your dad read you growing up?
SHAWN: The ones that tell you always burst through a door with a plan.
GUS: So what's our plan?
SHAWN: [turns doorknob and grabs Gus by arm] This.
*
[INT. STAGE.
Angie LaRoux stops singing and turns to look at Gus and Shawn, who have just stumbled out from behind the curtain. They are filthy from the secret passageway. Gus looks embarrassed. Shawn waves, grinning.]
ANGIE: Boys! [walks over, looking like she's about to put her arm around Gus' shoulder but she changes her mind when she sees the mountainous dust bunnies] When I asked for a pair of volunteers to show us the ping pong trick, I certainly wasn't expecting them to come from behind.
[Drummer hits the punchline sound.]
GUS: [eyes widen] Ping pong trick?
SHAWN: [laughs too loudly] Oh, Angie, we'd love nothing more than to help you, but we're actually in the middle of something right now and --
ANGIE: [grabs the top of Shawn's arm, nails digging in, and lowers voice to a hiss] You interrupt my show again, you little pissant, and you'll find out exactly how fast I can hogtie a little boy like you, got it? [smiles at crowd] Now bend over and shut up.
SHAWN: Gus?
GUS: [swallows] Yeah, Shawn?
SHAWN: Be gentle.
*
[INT. CHIEF VICK'S OFFICE.
It is morning. Gus and O'Hara are seated, Shawn is standing behind them.]
VICK: What've you got for me?
O'HARA: Well, Shawn discovered a hidden passageway that the kidnapper likely used to escape. We're going to station our officers --
SHAWN: No, no, no. We can't do that. I'm getting a really strong vibe that if this guy sees his escape route cut off, he's going to panic and bolt and we'll never get the chance to catch him.
GUS: There are still a lot of unanswered questions. For instance, he couldn't use the stage exit during business hours, so where does he keep his victims prior to leaving the building?
VICK: [nods] You make a good point, Mr. Guster, but my hands are tied on this one. The D.A. and I are in agreement on this: if we can prevent another kidnapping, we are morally bound to do so. You have twelve hours until the club opens to bring me a better idea. Until then, I suggest you get to work.
*
[INT. SBPD HALLWAY.
Gus and Shawn are walking towards the main entrance.]
SHAWN: Dude, twelve hours? We'll have this thing solved in five.
GUS: I hate it when you do that.
SHAWN: Do what?
GUS: Tempt fate. One day, fate's gonna get pissed off and teach you a lesson.
SHAWN: What, is fate secretly my dad now?
GUS: You'll see. All luck has an expiration date, Shawn.
SHAWN: Let me guess. There's going to be some sort of rueing involved in all of this?
GUS: You'll rue like you've never rued before.
SHAWN: I'll make you a deal. We solve it in under five hours, you buy us ice cream.
GUS: And if it takes longer?
SHAWN: [purses lips and lowers voice] I'll let you lick the ice cream off my granite thighs.
GUS: [pushes Shawn into the nearest wall]
*
[INT. HENRY SPENCER'S HOME.
Henry and Gus are seated at the dining table. Shawn is walking back and forth between the door and the stovetop.]
HENRY: Would you stop pacing and sit down?
SHAWN: Yeah, that's -- not gonna happen.
GUS: [tries not to laugh]
SHAWN: [narrows eyes at him] If that's what you call gentle, Gus, I think I know why your last three boyfriends broke up with you.
GUS: They broke up with me because you were always sneaking into my house while we were --
HENRY: Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm trying to eat lunch here, okay? [gestures with fork at plate of eggs and hash browns]
SHAWN: Technically it's more like brunch.
GUS: Early brunch.
SHAWN: Earunch?
GUS: That's hideous.
SHAWN: Brunearly?
GUS: If you're a Viking.
HENRY: Hey! [looks at them until they pay attention to him] Focus. Now, let's go over this from the beginning. What's the biggest hole in this case?
SHAWN: That's easy. The identity of the kidnapper.
GUS: We don't even have a rough description of this person -- sex, age, height, weight, none of it.
SHAWN: They've been over the security tape footage with a fine tooth comb.
GUS: Nada.
SHAWN: Zip.
GUS: Zilch.
HENRY: Well, it's simple, guys. [takes sip of his black coffee] Why waste energy on what you don't know?
SHAWN: So what you're saying is...
HENRY: Use what you do know to fill in the blanks.
*
[INT. PSYCH OFFICE.
It is early afternoon. Shawn lays out two photos on the table. Gus looks on, hands in his pockets. He is wearing khakis and a blue button-up and Shawn is wearing jeans and a green collared shirt.]
GUS: Wow. Jules mentioned these guys looked alike, but this is just uncanny. Looks like our kidnapper has a type.
[Photos show Tyson Verde and Darryl Hawthorne, the kidnapping victims. They have incredibly similar features and coloring; they could be mistaken for brothers.]
SHAWN: And these were the guys the victims tried to leave with. [lines up photos of Jack Ramamurthy and Greg Peck in another row underneath the first]
GUS: They don't look alike.
SHAWN: No, but they do have something else in common.
GUS: Huh. [leans in] You're right. They could both be male models.
SHAWN: Seems like our kidnapees also had a type. [taps lips with index finger] But what does it mean?
GUS: They bought into the idealized and unrealistic image that the media tries to sell young queer men as beautiful, disregarding the multitude of other potential partners available who don't necessarily fit into the cookie-cutter model of male attractiveness?
SHAWN: I knew that Queer Studies minor was a mistake.
GUS: I'm not the one who thinks pansexual means having sex with cookware.
SHAWN: Always hating on the kink, Gus. Just because it doesn't float your boat is no reason to rain on anyone else's copper-plated non-stick parade.
GUS: Please. Like you know the first thing about being kinky. Fuzzy handcuffs and an inexplicable attraction to Jeff Goldblum as a furry blue alien in Earth Girls Are Easy don't count.
SHAWN: But he spoiled me for all other men, Gus.
GUS: It's not even canonically confirmed whether he has a penis in that movie, Shawn. You might wanna reconsider.
SHAWN: Wait just one ballgagging minute. [raises a finger in the air and then slowly points it at Gus] When did you become Mr. Kink-It-All?
GUS: Let's just say, [brushes non-existent lint off shoulder], you don't know everything there is to know about me.
SHAWN: [raises eyebrow] Oh, really?
[Sound of door opening. O'Hara enters. She is in her bartender outfit.]
O'HARA: [waves] Hey, guys. [sits down in a chair, sighing]
SHAWN: Long night staving off the ladies, huh?
O'HARA: I wish.
[Gus and Shawn look at each other.]
O'HARA: I mean, no. No. Nothing like that. I worked the closing shift. And to top it off, it was with this woman who was a huge Gabrielle fan, and you know, I don't hate Gabrielle or anything, but I'm really more of a Xena girl, and she just kept going on and on and on about her, and then by the time we were done cleaning up I'd hit, like, my fifth wind. [yawns] And then, since I was up so late already I thought I might as well just keep looking through the file, y'know? I mean, yes, I've basically memorized it, but I figured one more look, [yawns widely], couldn't really hurt that much, could it? And I just thought, you know, [yawns again], that if I looked at it from a different angle, maybe something would... [head starts tilting to side]
GUS: [grabs pillow from couch and runs over, slipping it under O'Hara's cheek just as she falls asleep]
SHAWN: [whispering] Nice. [offers up fist for bumping]
GUS: [bumps it] Should we just let her sleep it off?
SHAWN: [nods] You get the drapes, I'll get a blanket. Meet you out at the car in five.
*
[INT. GUS' CAR.
Gus is in the driver's seat, Shawn is in the passenger's seat.]
GUS: Where to now?
SHAWN: Well, like my dad said. We have to focus on what we have instead of what we don't. So let's go back to where it all started.
GUS: [dramatically] Gayopolis.
SHAWN: I'm seriously considering naming our first child that.
GUS: [shakes head] I'm not hearing it, Shawn.
SHAWN: Dude, Gayopolis Guspencer? Best name ever.
GUS: [scoffs] Yeah, that won't cause the kid any problems later in life.
SHAWN: Oh, come on, Gus. You know I can't sign off on Lavendar. That name is way too gay.
GUS: [exhales slowly counting to ten under his breath] We have a case to solve. I am focusing on solving the case at hand. Dolphins laughing. Koalas in the mist. [exhales] I am a calm blue river.
SHAWN: How about D'Shawndre Guspencer? Can we agree on that one?
*
[EXT. GAYOPOLIS ALLEY.
Shawn is jamming a credit card into the back door and frowning.]
SHAWN: This always works in the movies.
GUS: That's what you get, learning all your lessons from TV. Popular media is nothing but misinformation packaged in a shiny wrapping, Shawn. All fluff, no content.
SHAWN: [fiddles with credit card more] Says the guy who watches Project Runway and sings American Duo auditions in his sleep.
GUS: For your information, the struggle for creative expression compounded by the time-constrained exercises cuts right to the heart of the human conditi-- [stops, looking suspiciously at Shawn]. How the hell do you know what I sing in my sleep?
SHAWN: Dude, who do you think keeps providing the harmony?
[A guard appears at the end of the alley.]
GUARD: Hey, what are you guys doing back here?
SHAWN: [hides mangled credit card behind back] [steps forward with a smile, offering other hand for shaking] Ferngullius Pennyweather, Alley Inspector, Santa Barbara Alley Department. S'BAD, to those of us in the biz. And this is my associate --
GUS: [steps away, hands raised] I'm not with him.
SHAWN: Backstabby McGee. [waves to encompass surroundings] Great ambiance you've got going here. The stench of urine, really, I couldn't have done it better myself. Everyone could really learn from your example.
GUARD: [looks confused] Don't I know you guys?
GUS: Right, well, we'll just be on our way now --
GUARD: [snaps fingers] Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster. Why didn't you just say something? Did you need to see anything inside the building? The real staff isn't in, yet, but we have two men inside.
SHAWN: You're SBPD?
GUARD: [nods]
SHAWN: [grins at Gus] What was that about fate, Gus?
GUS: You'll rue it, Shawn. You'll rue it good.
SHAWN: [claps the Guard on the back] Lead the way, my nameless yet very good friend.
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS MAIN ROOM.
The two officers are sitting at the bar, talking. They wave at Gus and Shawn when they enter, the third guard returning outside.]
SHAWN: Let's take another look at that stage.
[They walk over to it, walking up the stairs and coming to stand in front of the door they used last night. Shawn leans in, his vision focusing in on the edges of the doorway where the slightest chipping of the black paint is visible.]
SHAWN: These edges are way too clean, Gus. Look at this. [runs finger along the seam of the doorway] With all the use this thing's been getting there should be way more chipping. It's old, splintery, and it hardly fits in the frame because the wood's still all swollen from that storm last week. Someone re-painted.
GUS: [leans in] More than one coat, too, from the looks of it. That means someone who has regular access to the building.
SHAWN: And who knows when to paint.
GUS: Because someone would have noticed if they tried to set up gear back here during a show.
SHAWN: How much does that narrow down our list?
GUS: [considers] That knocks out the regulars, leaving full- and part-time staff and the volunteers. About thirty-five, give or take a few.
SHAWN: Damn. And how long do we have to cross out thirty-four of those people?
GUS: Two and a half hours if you're still trying to bring the wrath of the three Furies down upon you, nine and a half if you're a rational human being going by the Chief's clock.
SHAWN: Gus, don't be a peppermint flavored lubricant that stings my secret places when improperly applied. We'll finish here, head back to the office for a little spoonsie and be back in time for the staff meeting where we can make our list, check it twice, and pick out who's been naughty and nice.
GUS: Whatever you say, Shawn. Whatever you say. [looks around the main room] What else is there to see in here?
[Shawn looks around room, vision focusing in on the unlit exit signs and the positioning of the storeroom and closet doors. Vision stops, narrowing in on the doorframe to the coat check, noting a tiny black smudge on the white paint.]
SHAWN: And we're walking.
[Shawn walks across the room, Gus follows. When they reach the coat check room, Shawn opens the door with a flourishing bow.]
SHAWN: After you.
[Gus inclines his head and walks in. Shawn follows, noticing a few more black smears on the wood of the floor.]
GUS: [looking through the few hanging jackets left over from last night] This place is tiny. It can hardly fit on person, much less two.
[Shawn's vision narrows in on one piece of wood paneling that is slightly lighter than the rest of the pieces. He steps forward and presses on it. Nothing happens.]
SHAWN: Hmm. And I was so sure there was another secret passageway or something back here.
GUS: Two secret passageways in one building?
SHAWN: What, because one secret passageway is normal but two is unheard of?
GUS: Fine. [taps Shawn's shoulder with the back of his hand] Step aside, let a professional handle this.
SHAWN: Professional? What are you, the wood whisperer?
[Gus exhales loudly, shaking out his arms. He smooths his fingers over his eyebrows, kicking his feet out.]
SHAWN: Gus.
GUS: Professional at work, Shawn.
[After doing a few more kicks, Gus bends at his knees and examines the wood carefully. He presses three places on the wood, two with his hands and one with his foot, and the large paneling slides aside to reveal a small chamber, just large enough for one person.]
GUS: [exuding smugness] You were saying?
SHAWN: That you're so freaking hot right now.
GUS: It's very simple, Shawn. The principles of discovering the proper latch-and-release sequences on a hidden door are parallel to the extrapolation of the tumbler cascade on a safe --
SHAWN: And now not so hot. [steps forward, kneeling and peering into the hidden room]
GUS: The kidnapper must have lured his victims in here.
SHAWN: With candy, perhaps. Or those shiny little glow sticks that you should never, ever crack open and try to drink, because no matter what anyone tells you they taste nothing like liquid pixie sticks.
GUS: Not everyone has your gnat-like attention span, Shawn. Maybe he, I don't know, told them there was something important in here they had to get before they left?
SHAWN: [rubs finger on chin] And it would have to be really important to get those guys away from their Calvin Klein hookups.
GUS: [makes a sound of agreement] You know that's right. If a guy that hot ever hit on me --
SHAWN: [smiles, puts a hand on his chest] I'm here for you, Gus. Whenever you need me. Just say the word.
GUS: The word would be no. Anyway. He must've knocked them out, too. Hidden, sure. Soundproof? Not even close. This secret wall is like paper. [knocks on it, it jiggles back and forth from the force]
SHAWN: [nods] If they were screaming in there, someone would have heard them. [reaches down and picks up a stray fibers from floor] And it looks like he tied them up, too.
[Vision zooms in and notices that one of the fibers mixed amongst the rope fibers stands out. It is white and fuzzy.]
SHAWN: Dude. [holds up fiber for Gus] We've seen the hat this came from.
GUS: [eyes go wide] That looks like it's from Darryl Hawthorne's beanie.
SHAWN: So we have the how.
GUS: Now we just need the why.
SHAWN: And the who. And I think I know how we can nail them both with one hammer.
*
[INT. PSYCH OFFICE.
Gus and Shawn are lying on the couch, spooning. They are in their pajamas. Gus is the big spoon.]
GUS: Is it weird that we still do this?
SHAWN: [snuffles against Gus' wrist]
GUS: Yeah, I didn't think so.
*
[INT. PSYCH OFFICE.
Gus and Shawn are looking at the rows of photos again.]
SHAWN: I have a theory.
GUS: Don't make me ask what the damn theory is, Shawn.
SHAWN: [gestures at the pictures] Dude, it's been right in front of our faces all along. Think about it, man. Why do you think our kidnapper had to take these guys by force? Why bother, if you could just charm them out to your car? Obviously neither of them had qualms about leaving a club with a complete stranger.
GUS: ...because he couldn't pick them up.
SHAWN: Exactly. They listened to all those Absolut ads, Gus. They wouldn't give some mediocre-looking guy the time of day. And I think I have a pretty good idea which --
GUS: Oh my God. [jumps up and down excitedly] That Brett dude. It's gotta be him! He's the owner's kid, so he's probably been in and out of that club since he was little. Plenty of time to find secret passages. And he knew exactly how to avoid the security cameras because he knew where they all were. Plus, he'd have access to the coat room and we saw him the other night when he was serving those drinks. No one was giving him a second look, probably 'cause it looks like an animal died on his head. [pumps fist] Bam! I solved the case!
SHAWN: I -- you -- Gus. [waves hands in air wildly]
GUS: What?
SHAWN: Dude. [looks very disappointed] You just ruined my big reveal.
GUS: Oh, I see. So you're the only who gets to figure things out.
SHAWN: No, but -- I -- Gus. You know that's my favorite part.
GUS: [shrugs] Jules, Lassiter and the Chief are all waiting for us at the staff meeting. You can do it then.
SHAWN: But now it'll just be repetitive.
GUS: That's why God created the ellipsis.
*
[EXT. GAYOPOLIS FRONT ENTRANCE.]
LASSITER: Spencer! You're finally here. [eyes bloodshot and hand shaking slightly] I stayed up sixty-two hours straight getting this done. A list of all attendees who were at this club at least four nights of every week for the past three months. [holds out a 2-inch thick stack of paper]
SHAWN: Oh, yeah. [waves hand] That turned out to be a dead end. Thanks anyway, Lassie.
[O'Hara grabs Lassiter's arms when he raises them to strangle the oblivious Shawn.]
GUS: Nice collating, though.
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS MAIN ROOM.
Shawn is standing on the stage, Gus off to the side.]
SHAWN: ...and you'll find, Detectives, that if you go search his apartment, he's got them stashed there. Brett, Brett. [shakes head] Haven't you ever heard of Craigslist?
BRETT: [straining against O'Hara's hold] You don't know how embarrassing it is! My mom owns this place, and no one will give me the time of day!
SHAWN: Hair gel. Invest in it.
VICK: Detectives, take him to the station. Nice work, gentlemen.
SHAWN: Gus! Check our time.
[Gus grumbles. Then he looks at his watch and grins, holding up his wrist and tapping on the watch face.]
GUS: Sorry, Shawn. Five minutes over the deadline.
SHAWN: Seriously?
GUS: Please. My watch is accurate down to the millisecond.
SHAWN: Well, better get that tongue limbered up. You're going to have a lot of licking to do.
GUS: In your dreams.
*
[INT. PSYCH OFFICE.
Shawn is standing in the kitchen area, dripping.]
SHAWN: Gus! I'm melting!
GUS: I already told you, Shawn. It's not happening.
SHAWN: Oh, come on. It's Almond Hazelnut Swirl Häagen-Dazs, your favorite. Think of all the deliciousness going to waste.
GUS: [sighs] Fine. One shoulder. And then you're taking me out for a real sundae.
SHAWN: I see no reason this day can't feature multiple ice cream activities.
GUS: And I get the cherry all to myself.
SHAWN: No halfsies?
GUS: Cherry or no deal.
SHAWN: [sighs] Deal.
*
[INT. GUS' BEDROOM.
It is nighttime. Gus and Shawn are lying side-by-side on Gus' bed.]
SHAWN: Dude, I've been the pillow for the last twenty-five years.
GUS: And my vertebrae thank you. [plops head onto Shawn's stomach]
SHAWN: If it weren't for that Lady and the Tramp stem action earlier I'd be really annoyed at you right now.
GUS: [lays arm across Shawn's waist with a sleepy sigh] Night, Shawn.
SHAWN: [smiles to himself] Night, Gus.
*
PSYCH OUT. (This Psych Out is sponsored by Good Vibrations.)
[Shawn leaps into Gus' arms, wearing only hotpants, wrapping his legs around Gus' waist. Gus holds him up by his ass.]
SHAWN: You!
GUS: I wanna take you to the gay bar.
[Lassiter enters, wearing blue hotpants, a badge at his hip, a policeman's hat, aviators and a pornstache.]
SHAWN: I wanna take you to the gay bar.
LASSITER: I wanna take you to the gay bar, gay bar, gay baaaaaaar.
[O'Hara walks across screen in a Xena costume, scissoring her arms and bobbing her head.]
O'HARA: I've got something to put in you.
VICK: [pops her head on-screen quickly] I've got something to put in you.
McNAB: [slides into frame wearing a leopard print speedo, playing fervent air guitar and grinning] I've got something to put in you!
LASSITER: [hip thrusts] At the gay bar, gay bar, gay baaaaaaar.
[[ dreamwidth entry | reply @ dw |
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*
Gus/Shawn, PG-13, ~8,000w.
The one where they're gay BFFs. "I have early onset hypothermia, Shawn, hurry up."
At the Gay Bar
1985.
[INT. SHAWN SPENCER'S BEDROOM.
It is nighttime. Gus and Shawn are lying side-by-side on Shawn's bed.]
GUS: Your turn to be the pillow.
SHAWN: I was the pillow last night!
GUS: [shakes head] No, you were the blanket last night.
SHAWN: Fine, but next sleepover you're going to be the pillow and the blanket.
GUS: [yawns, dropping his head onto Shawn's stomach] Okay.
*
[INT. SANTA BARBARA POLICE STATION.
It is morning. Gus and Shawn walk down the hallway.]
SHAWN: Cat-Ra was the Lassiter of Etheria. She was always going about her merry evil business, trying to foil She-Ra's plans, but ultimately --
GUS: I am not going to be Madame Razz in this analogy.
SHAWN: Who said anything about Madame Razz?
GUS: You know she freaks me out, Shawn. Her eyebrows were on her hat, well above her hairline. Who does that?
SHAWN: Anyway, you're obviously Glimmer --
GUS: Why can't I be Bow?
SHAWN: Duh, your blue hair.
GUS: If you want to give up your male genitalia to be She-Ra, that's your problem. I'm going to be He-Man. [lifts chin] I definitely have the jaw for it.
SHAWN: The whole incest thing is going to make it really awkward when we have sex.
GUS: Which is never going to happen, so all the more reason.
McNAB: [appears from seemingly nowhere] Chief's waiting in her office, guys, she doesn't seem too happy.
SHAWN: It's not our fault this is hallway stretches to exactly the distance we need to finish our conversation.
GUS: Actually, that would imply that it's totally our fault.
SHAWN: What, now the universe expects me to cut short my lyrical flow?
GUS: We all pray for the day.
[They approach Chief Vick's door.]
McNAB: What are you guys waiting for?
SHAWN: I was going to be a gentleman and let Gus go in first.
GUS: [crosses arms over chest] You mean a chicken.
SHAWN: Dude, you know you're my I-am-rubber-you-are-glue human shield, with your reflective pecs and those smoldering nostrils.
GUS: There is nothing in that statement that can even remotely be construed as a compliment.
SHAWN: Come on, Gus, think of the Twiggets in the Whispering Woods. Who will save them?
GUS: You already tricked with that once, Shawn, I'm not falling for it again --
McNAB: [opens Vick's door]
VICK: Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster! What have I told you about keeping your cell phones on at all times?
[Gus and Shawn slink into Chief Vick's office.
O'Hara is standing to the right of Gus and Shawn, Lassiter to the left, with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. Chief Vick is seated at her desk and leveling them all with a very disapproving expression.]
SHAWN: I keep telling Gus that he can't turn our phones off every single time he wants to get a taste of the Shawn sweetness --
VICK: We absolutely do not need to know, Mr. Spencer. Now, please. [gestures at chairs]
[Gus and Shawn sit.]
VICK: Now that you've finished with that private case you were working, we'd like to bring you in on an ongoing investigation we're conducting. [nods at O'Hara]
O'HARA: [hands Gus and Shawn files] Last week on Thursday night, Tyson Verde disappeared from the nightclub Gayopolis.
SHAWN: [mouths "Gayopolis?" at Gus]
VICK: He's the D.A.'s son-in-law. I'm sure it goes without saying that we'd prefer to keep this under the radar.
SHAWN: Or does it?
GUS: Well, since she said it, no.
VICK: Then how about I put it in terms you might understand? The D.A. would like to protect her family from the media circus if it all possible, and if you two get in the way of that, I will personally see to it that neither of you finds employment within the Santa Barbara city limits ever again. Do I make myself clear?
SHAWN: Like a pane of freshly squeegeed glass.
O'HARA: So far, we've managed to keep it relatively quiet in the press, but with elections coming up next month we're running against the clock.
[Shawn leafs through file. Vision zooms in on the victim's age, 24, and the time of disappearance, estimated 2:23AM.]
SHAWN: [raises index finger to temple] I'm sensing Tyson wasn't planning on leaving the club alone.
O'HARA: [looks impressed] That's right. He tried to leave with someone -- Jack Ramamurthy -- but somewhere between the dance floor and the door he disappeared.
SHAWN: Has anyone checked the bathrooms? I don't know about you guys, but whenever I venture into a bathroom at a gay club I don't come out for a solid two weeks. Usually with only a feather boa to cover myself and a small Hobbit named Tuck hanging onto my ankle.
LASSITER: You know, Spencer, I thought just this once, being that you're a member of the targeted demographic, you might have some sort of insight to offer that wasn't completely without value. I'm happy to say you've proven me wrong.
SHAWN: I'm here all day, Lassiekins, and there's plenty more disappointment where that came from.
VICK: [narrows eyes at Shawn] I'm sure that I don't need to stress the vital importance of getting this matter resolved. Tyson Verde's life is at stake.
GUS: [elbows Shawn] Of course.
SHAWN: We're on it, Chief. Just point us in the right direction and Swiftwind here and I will fly towards it like -- like --
GUS: Do not say the wind.
SHAWN: Yeah, I realized halfway in that wasn't going to --
GUS: If you say fly I will smack you.
SHAWN: Geeze, Gus, what's with you today? Usually you love my redundant and obvious puns.
VICK: Boys. [Gus and Shawn look contrite.] Now, Detective O'Hara is already in place undercover at Gayopolis --
[Gus and Shawn both repress laughter.]
VICK: [quells them with a look] She's working as a bartender.
O'HARA: From seven to twelve, when it's the Cat Club. [smiles and points at the top of her head] I get to wear little ears.
VICK: And I want you two to get close to Gayopolis --
[Gus and Shawn clutch their sides, strangled sounds emerging from their mouths.]
VICK: I'm sorry, is something funny?
SHAWN: [breathless] Nooooo.
GUS: [coughs, straightening a tie that he's not wearing] Definitely not.
VICK: As I was saying, I want you to get close to Gayopolis and figure out what's going on there. Follow up on anything, no matter how insignificant. The clock is ticking. [gestures at Lassiter] Detective Lassiter is leading the task force here at the station, and you will liaise with him for any backup support you might need.
SHAWN: [looks like he's about to make a joke about the kind of back up support Lassiter can give him]
GUS: [glares]
SHAWN: [sighs]
VICK: [looks at them all] Get me results, people. Dismissed.
*
[EXT. GAYOPOLIS BUILDING.
It is afternoon. Gus and Shawn stand out front, looking at the sign, which is a cityscape done in rainbow and the word GAYOPOLIS beneath in glittering pink.]
SHAWN: I feel twenty percent gayer looking at this sign.
GUS: I came here a couple times, in college. This place makes the strongest drinks on the pink strip. Dude, this one time, after finals? I had six Mango Tangos and all I remember after that is waking up in a pair of tube socks hanging from some rafters down on the South side of town, ten hours later, no idea how I'd gotten there.
SHAWN: Tube socks?
GUS: [shrugs] They matched my sweatervest.
SHAWN: Only you, Gus. Only you would wear a sweatervest clubbing and think that was in any way okay.
[Door to Gayopolis opens, O'Hara pokes her head out. She's wearing a bright red leather mini-skirt and a cut-off white t-shirt with Xena and Gabrielle's faces on it.]
O'HARA: The manager's ready for you guys.
GUS: Manager? I thought we were just here to look around.
SHAWN: [steps out of Gus' smacking range] I maaay have set up interviews for us.
GUS: I am not working at a place called Gayopolis, Shawn. I don't care how out of the closet I am, there is no job this place is going to offer me that I'm going to feel comfortable doing.
SHAWN: Gus, I promise you. I found us jobs that will in no way violate your needlessly complicated morals.
GUS: Fine, but this is not going on my résumé.
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, MAIN ROOM.
It is evening. The club is full, large disco balls turning on the ceiling and bouncing colored lights all over the dance floor. The majority of the crowd is young, a mix of women and men. The bartenders are busy serving the long lines at the bar.
O'Hara is serving, now wearing a pair of cat ears, a sparkly red bikini top and a pair of yellow hot pants. Her hair is tied on a ponytail high on her head and bounces with every step she takes.
Gus and Shawn are in the back room behind the bar.]
GUS: I am not going out there.
SHAWN: Oh, come on. You look great. [smacks Gus on ass]
[Gus turns around, giving Shawn a murderous look. He punches Shawn on the shoulder, hard.]
SHAWN: Ow!
GUS: That's for getting me this job. [punches him again]
SHAWN: Ow! [clutches shoulder] And that? What could that possibly be for?
GUS: General principle. Now get out of the way. I quit.
SHAWN: [stops Gus with a hand on his chest] Gus. A man is missing. We have to do this.
GUS: And you couldn't have gotten us normal jobs? Like busboys or coat checkers or something that doesn't require me being almost naked?
SHAWN: I'm really not seeing the downside.
GUS: I have this little thing, Shawn. It's called pride.
SHAWN: [sighs] Gus, you know I'm way too fabulous to have my hands chafed from the harsh soaps they use at places like this. And coat checking? Really? Come on. Besides. [waves hand in the vicinity of Gus' hips] All you need to do is break out the caterpillar and they'll be eating out of your hand.
GUS: Yeah, well. [nods reluctantly] I also do a mean kangaroo.
SHAWN: That's the spirit. Now you just ease yourself out there at whatever pace is comfortable for you, buddy, I got your back -- [uses two hands to push Gus out the door].
GUS: Shaaaawn!
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, DANCING CAGE ON STAGE.
Gus, clad only in orange hot pants, is standing reluctantly off to the side, his knees turned in, big toes touching. Shawn is in the middle, clad in purple hot pants, gyrating wildly.]
SHAWN: Dude! [dances over towards Gus] If there were ever a time to bust out the kangaroo, Gus, it's now.
GUS: I can't move, Shawn. I am physically paralyzed by indignity.
SHAWN: [humps the middle pole] Don't be ridiculous. I know that deep down in there a dancing queen is just waiting to come out.
GUS: If that's supposed to be a euphemism implying that I am overly feminized and not up to the hyper-masculine standards of your little playing-at-heteronormativity segment of the baby Bear subculture, I'll have you know that not only do I not care, I refuse to be subjugated by your definition of queer norms.
SHAWN: [stops humping, tilting his head to the side] So that's a no on the Mamma Mia karaoke later?
GUS: I'm done. Tell Gay Andy I quit. I will have no part of --
[A young, attractive man slips a twenty in the waistband of Gus' hotpants, smiling up at him. Gus pulls the bill out of pants, examining it. He looks at Shawn.]
GUS: You said we get to keep our tips?
SHAWN: [nods, grinning while hip-thrusting towards the general direction of the crowd]
GUS: Now that's what I'm talking about. [shoves Shawn out of way and starts caterpillaring]
[Crowd cheers and clamors forward, bills waving in air.]
SHAWN: [looks down at his own waistband, free of dollar bills, expression annoyed and maybe a little sad]
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, BACKSTAGE ROOM.
The room is full of go-go boys coming off their shift. There are velvet couches and fold-out chairs. Gus and Shawn enter, Shawn still in his hotpants, Gus with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Shawn's vision zooms in on a zebra-and-leopard print couch. There is a man sitting on it, drinking a soda and relaxing. His hair is fifteen different colors and pointed in every direction. He has matched armband tattoos of train sets circling his biceps.]
SHAWN: Dude. Plush. [walks directly over and sits down]
GUS: [approaches, sits down on other side of man, hand clutched tightly on towel]
SHAWN: What up, fellow dancing -- [looks at Gus] -- er, Czar.
MAN: [looks confused]
SHAWN: Emporer?
GUS: Monarch.
SHAWN: He's not a butterfly, Gus.
MAN: You're the new guys, right?
SHAWN: That's us. [gestures] This is my life partner, Giant Sea Turtle.
GUS: [moves hands like a swimming turtle]
SHAWN: And you can call me The Hare.
CURTIS: Curtis Wong. Welcome aboard.
SHAWN: How do you feel about conflict mediation?
CURTIS: [looks confused] Um. Okay?
SHAWN: Great! Because Turtle here and I are having a pretty sticky one. See, he's got this thing for this guy named Tyson Verde, and I think Jack Ramamurthy is waaaay cuter, and we were just wondering where you stood on the whole matter.
CURTIS: [shrugs] I'm in a long-term committed relationship.
SHAWN: How old are you?
CURTIS: Twenty-one.
SHAWN: So long term is, what, two weeks?
CURTIS: Seven years.
GUS: [impressed] Congratulations.
CURTIS: [smiles] Me and Amir, you know. Been together since we both came out when we were fifteen.
GUS: That's amazing.
CURTIS: Hasn't always been easy, but we make it work. But, hey, Turtle, man, you aren't the only one who wants a piece of Tyson. Half the guys in here are after him every night.
SHAWN: [looks at Gus] Is that a fact?
CURTIS: Yeah, he only goes for real hot model types, though.
SHAWN: [angles jaw to catch the light] Like myself.
CURTIS: Uh.
GUS: I think he means like Jack Ramamurthy.
CURTIS: [nods] Yeah. I mean, not that I'm looking, but Jack is...
SHAWN: Oh, believe me. [sighs dramatically] I know.
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, MAIN ROOM.
Gus and Shawn are standing at the corner of the bar. O'Hara waves at them, busy serving drinks.]
GUS: What now?
SHAWN: Now, we find that hot model type Tyson was trying to take home. [whips out photograph of Jack Ramamurthy]
GUS: Do I even want to know where you've been keeping that?
SHAWN: Probably not, no.
GUS: The police interrogated this guy twice. His alibi's rock solid.
SHAWN: Much like his enormous biceps. [hands picture to Gus, who holds it away from himself with two fingers] I plan to go over both with very thoroughly.
GUS: We better be wearing pants for this.
SHAWN: If you insist.
*
[INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY.
Gus and Shawn are standing outside a door. They are dressed in their normal clothes, although Shawn has a hint of purple peeking out from under his jeans. Shawn knocks on the door.
Jack Ramamurthy opens the door. He is in his early 20s, has curly hair and is wearing vintage clothes and a silver ring on his thumb.]
JACK: Yes?
SHAWN: Hi. My name is Shawn Spencer. I'm the head psychic with the Santa Barbara Police Department, and this is my partner, Honeybaron Whipoorwill.
GUS: [smiles, making a small swirling motion with his index finger in the air]
JACK: More questions, huh?
GUS: If you have a few moments. We apologize for the hour.
JACK: It's fine. I was up anyway.
[Jack opens the door and they enter. His apartment is furnished simply, in bold colors. The TV is on. Gus and Shawn take a seat on his bright blue IKEA couch.]
SHAWN: Word on the gayvine is you were the last guy to see Tyson Verde before he disappeared.
JACK: Yeah, that was me.
GUS: Did anything strange happen before you were separated?
JACK: Not that I saw. I went to the bathroom and he went to get his coat, and we were going to meet at the door in five minutes. When he didn't show, I thought he was jerking my chain and left with my friend.
SHAWN: So you and Tyson weren't already... [wiggles fingers in air suggestively]
JACK: [shakes head] I've seen him around. I like to party, and from what I hear, so does he. But we never really talked before that night.
[Gus and Shawn exchange a look, reaching some kind of silent agreement.]
GUS: Thank you very much for your time. You have a nice night.
*
[INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY.]
SHAWN: Dude, I think my fake crush on that guy just became real.
GUS: He was fine. Think he had anything to do with it?
SHAWN: If he did, he's a good liar.
GUS: And according to the file he has an alibi for the bathroom and the friend he left with.
SHAWN: Sounds like Tyson left a trail of broken hearts behind him. Maybe if we find the one he stomped the hardest one, we'll find our kidnapper.
*
[INT. SANTA BARBARA POLICE STATION.
Gus and Shawn are standing in front of Lassiter's desk.]
SHAWN: Lists, Lassie, we need lists. Preferably with pictures. [waves at temple] My psychic mojo gets bored when there are too many words.
LASSITER: I fail to see the point.
GUS: A place like this, it's going to have tons of regulars. Women and men who go there every single night like clock work looking for a hook-up.
LASSITER: Who would go to that much trouble just for a sexual encounter?
SHAWN: [looks at Gus] Clearly you've never been a 20-something gay guy.
GUS: What, you didn't do any crazy stuff back in college to impress a girl?
LASSITER: One time I discharged my weapon outside a woman's window to let her know I was available for sexual congress.
GUS: Wow.
SHAWN: It is a mystery that you are not more popular with the ladies.
LASSITER: I could not agree more. Anyway, even if I wanted to waste precious resources on your fruitless hunches, we just don't have that kind of information.
[Vick enters, walking quickly.]
VICK: You all need to get to the club, now.
LASSITER: [stands immediately] What's going on?
VICK: We have another suspected kidnapping. O'Hara's handling the scene right now.
LASSITER: We're on it, Chief. [grabs jacket]
VICK: [nods, starts heading back to office and then turns around] Oh, and Detective?
LASSITER: Yes?
VICK: Take a civilian vehicle. Not much chance we'll still be able to keep this under wraps if it is a second kidnapping, but no need to advertise it, either.
[Lassiter and Shawn look at Gus.]
GUS: Fine, but I get to drive.
*
[INT. GUS' CAR.
Gus is driving, Shawn is in the passenger seat, Lassiter is hunched in the back.]
SHAWN: You know, I was picturing this as a cozy vibe, but instead it's awkward and kind of sticky. Think you could dial it back a little, Lassie?
LASSITER: Dial what back?
SHAWN: Oh, I don't know. [waves hand at Lassiter's figure] All of this.
GUS: You are a little... aggressively heterosexual.
LASSITER: Excuse me?
SHAWN: Well, the goal is to blend in.
GUS: Fly under the radar.
SHAWN: Stealth-like.
LASSITER: [scoffs] As if you two buffoons could teach me anything about being stealth.
SHAWN: So when was the last time you went to a gay club?
LASSITER: I -- well.
SHAWN: As I suspected. What do you say, Gus?
GUS: Gotta lose that tie.
SHAWN: Tie. Check.
GUS: And the hair.
SHAWN: And, oh, boy. Lassie, those shoes. I -- I don't even have the words.
LASSITER: I just polished them this morning!
SHAWN: While wearing an ascot?
LASSITER: No, that's only on the weekends.
SHAWN: Well, Gus, you'll be happy to hear we finally have a use for that ridiculously well-stocked bag of clothes you keep in your trunk at all times.
*
[EXT. SIDE STREET BORDERING GAYOPOLIS.
O'Hara is standing near the dumpster with two non-uniformed officers. She is in her bartending uniform. Gus' car pulls up. Gus and Shawn get out, walking over to join her.]
O'HARA: Where's Lassiter? Chief said he was with you.
SHAWN: Lassie! Come on, man. You'll thank us later.
[Lassiter slowly gets out of car. He is wearing aviator glasses, polyester slacks, a paisley shirt, brown-and-white men's shoes with very pointed toes, and his hair is gelled to incredibly high proportions.]
O'HARA: [leans in towards Gus] Wasn't that your Halloween costume?
GUS: [shrugs] He thought it would help him blend in.
[Lassiter approaches, overly casual, thumbs strung through belt loops, chewing on a toothpick.]
LASSITER: Gimme the sitrep, O'Hara.
O'HARA: [clears throat, shaking off smile] Well, at 2:38AM I overheard two civilians discussing the third companion in their group, who was their designated driver, and how they couldn't locate him. His name is Darryl Hawthorne, age 23. Darryl had been talking to someone and mentioned to his friends that they might have to take a cab home. But he never returned to confirm, which according to their accounts is unusual for him. As directed by the Chief, we have been treating any suspicious activity as a crime until proven otherwise, and I instructed two of our undercover agents to search the premises. They found this in the trash.
[O'Hara holds out an evidence bag containing a bloody hat. Shawn steps closer, examining the hat, noting the freshness of the bloodstain. It is white with black stripes and appears to be made out of a mix of natural and synthetic fibers.]
O'HARA: Darryl's hat. The two friends are in a car on the way to the station for statements.
GUS: Does preliminary evidence suggest a pattern?
O'HARA: We're really not sure yet, but the time of disappearance is similar, although we found no indications of violence in relation to Verde's disappearance, however we also got to that scene long after the fact.
LASSITER: No time to clean up his mess.
SHAWN: [vision zooms in the size of the bloodstain] I'm sensing that he used violence because he was caught by surprise. He got sloppy.
O'HARA: I have to get back to my shift. Two of our guys are searching inside, in case the victim is being hidden on the premises. [to Lassiter] See you back at the station. And you two -- go home and get some sleep. We've got another shift to work tomorrow night.
[Gus and Shawn give her matching two-fingered salutes.]
LASSITER: All right, first, you drive me somewhere I can change out of these preposterous clothes. Then back to the station, and, as much as it pains me to admit it, in light of these circumstances, I will be taking your request for a list of regular atendees under advisement.
SHAWN: I knew --
LASSITER: Don't make me reconsider.
SHAWN: -- that I'd be making a "Lassie is awesome" scrapbook this weekend.
GUS: I've got the fabric swatches all picked out.
LASSITER: [rolls eyes and stalks over to car]
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS, BEHIND THE BAR.
It is the next night. Gus and Shawn are standing with O'Hara. The crowd at the bar has thinned a bit because of the drag performance going on at the stage; the club's headliner, Angie LaRoux, is singing.]
O'HARA: Two hundred dollars, wow, that's a lot to make on your second night.
GUS: [smiles, petting stack of dollar bills] What can I say? It's a gift.
O'HARA: [wiping down a glass] How much did you make, Shawn?
GUS: [snickers]
SHAWN: [shoots Gus a baleful look] I think we have more important matters to focus on. [reaches down] Like how many of these tiny umbrellas can I fit in my hair? Twenty, perhaps thirty-two?
GUS: [knocks umbrellas out of Shawn's hand]
SHAWN: And who's that guy down there with the awful hair?
[They all look at the other end of the bar. There is another bartender working the other side, re-stocking supplies. He is in his mid-20s. He has brown hair and a bowl cut, and unlike all the other staff, he is dressed in casual streetwear, a t-shirt and jeans.]
O'HARA: Oh, that's the owner's son, Brett.
GUS: [leans in to Shawn] He did it.
SHAWN: Why, Gus. Accusing on first sight. I'm proud of you.
GUS: I've been awake for forty-eight excruciating hours, Shawn. I'd accuse my grandma if it'd get me a decent eight hours' sleep.
O'HARA: Sorry, Gus, no luck. We've already checked out his alibi. He was working both nights and the footage shows that he wouldn't have had time to get the victims out of here. We scoured the place last night and there's nowhere on the premises the kidnapper could have hidden someone.
[As O'Hara is talking, Shawn looks around Gayopolis, noting Angie LaRoux singing a rousing rendition of "It's Raining Men" onstage, her long nails flashing in the multicolored lights and her shining black hair swishing as she moves around the stage. He focuses in on the three EXIT signs and the bouncers in black t-shirts standing at each one.]
SHAWN: [points] Those three doors are the only ways out of here?
O'HARA: [nods] Yeah. Those are our guys we got on staff. They were working during the last disappearance, and here's the weird thing -- they didn't spot anyone suspicious trying to leave through those doors.
SHAWN: [places finger on temple] I sense our culprit found another egret. With wide, white wings and a chipper little beak.
O'HARA: What?
GUS: He means egress. You're sure there's no other way out?
O'HARA: Not that we've found.
*
[EXT. ALLEY BEHIND GAYOPOLIS.]
GUS: I have early onset hypothermia, Shawn, hurry up.
SHAWN: Gus! [holds index finger up, crouching down and looking at the wall] Nut up or shut up.
GUS: Please. You are not even on the same continent as Woody Harrelson, much less the same league.
SHAWN: We both share a love of Val Kilmer, which is more than I can say for you and me.
GUS: [rolls eyes] The last time you tried to spread the Harrelson-Kilmer illicit affair rumor you got yourself a restraining order. Would you just give it up?
SHAWN: Their love is pure, Gus, and until one of them is in my bed, no, I will not give it up. [crouches down lower, looking more closely] I think I've got something.
GUS: [crouches beside Shawn] What?
SHAWN: A really nice view of your abdominals. Have you been doing pilates? Your core is fire, dude.
GUS: Shawn, I'm about to die of exposure. Hotpants are not outdoor wear. Could we get a move on, please?
SHAWN: [gestures] What does this little patch here look like?
GUS: It needs a new coat of paint?
SHAWN: No. Well, yes. But that's besides the point. [leans in and grabs the edge of the patch and starts pulling] You see, Gus, it's also a -- it's also a -- oh my god, my cuticles. What did they seal this with, a lifetime vow of chastity?
[Shawn stumbles back as door comes dislodged, swinging away from the wall.]
SHAWN: As I was saying, I'm pretty sure it's also a door.
GUS: [looks around] And not a bouncer in sight.
SHAWN: Perfect escape route for a would-be kidnapper, don't you think?
GUS: Now what?
SHAWN: Well, Gus, I want you to stand right there, yes, and then we're going to -- [pushes Gus into the dark passageway].
GUS: I'm gonna kill you, Shawn!
SHAWN: [crawls in after Gus] I know you say that with love, buddy.
GUS: [shuffles forward on hands and knees] No, I say that with intent to murder. And you better not be checking out my ass.
SHAWN: [following] It's kind of hard not to, considering it's like a giant Peking duck slathered in orange sauce right in front of me.
GUS: [shuffles faster]
SHAWN: So where do you think it leads?
GUS: Maybe that storage closet we saw when we came in. Wait, I think I see a light up ahead.
[The passageway suddenly widens and they come to a ladder. They each try to climb it first, getting into a slap-fight, and eventually end up each half-climbing it alongside each other until they reach the landing at the top.]
GUS: Another door. At least this one's normal-sized.
SHAWN: I feel a little like Alice when she accidentally mixes E with her poppers.
GUS: What fairy tales did your dad read you growing up?
SHAWN: The ones that tell you always burst through a door with a plan.
GUS: So what's our plan?
SHAWN: [turns doorknob and grabs Gus by arm] This.
*
[INT. STAGE.
Angie LaRoux stops singing and turns to look at Gus and Shawn, who have just stumbled out from behind the curtain. They are filthy from the secret passageway. Gus looks embarrassed. Shawn waves, grinning.]
ANGIE: Boys! [walks over, looking like she's about to put her arm around Gus' shoulder but she changes her mind when she sees the mountainous dust bunnies] When I asked for a pair of volunteers to show us the ping pong trick, I certainly wasn't expecting them to come from behind.
[Drummer hits the punchline sound.]
GUS: [eyes widen] Ping pong trick?
SHAWN: [laughs too loudly] Oh, Angie, we'd love nothing more than to help you, but we're actually in the middle of something right now and --
ANGIE: [grabs the top of Shawn's arm, nails digging in, and lowers voice to a hiss] You interrupt my show again, you little pissant, and you'll find out exactly how fast I can hogtie a little boy like you, got it? [smiles at crowd] Now bend over and shut up.
SHAWN: Gus?
GUS: [swallows] Yeah, Shawn?
SHAWN: Be gentle.
*
[INT. CHIEF VICK'S OFFICE.
It is morning. Gus and O'Hara are seated, Shawn is standing behind them.]
VICK: What've you got for me?
O'HARA: Well, Shawn discovered a hidden passageway that the kidnapper likely used to escape. We're going to station our officers --
SHAWN: No, no, no. We can't do that. I'm getting a really strong vibe that if this guy sees his escape route cut off, he's going to panic and bolt and we'll never get the chance to catch him.
GUS: There are still a lot of unanswered questions. For instance, he couldn't use the stage exit during business hours, so where does he keep his victims prior to leaving the building?
VICK: [nods] You make a good point, Mr. Guster, but my hands are tied on this one. The D.A. and I are in agreement on this: if we can prevent another kidnapping, we are morally bound to do so. You have twelve hours until the club opens to bring me a better idea. Until then, I suggest you get to work.
*
[INT. SBPD HALLWAY.
Gus and Shawn are walking towards the main entrance.]
SHAWN: Dude, twelve hours? We'll have this thing solved in five.
GUS: I hate it when you do that.
SHAWN: Do what?
GUS: Tempt fate. One day, fate's gonna get pissed off and teach you a lesson.
SHAWN: What, is fate secretly my dad now?
GUS: You'll see. All luck has an expiration date, Shawn.
SHAWN: Let me guess. There's going to be some sort of rueing involved in all of this?
GUS: You'll rue like you've never rued before.
SHAWN: I'll make you a deal. We solve it in under five hours, you buy us ice cream.
GUS: And if it takes longer?
SHAWN: [purses lips and lowers voice] I'll let you lick the ice cream off my granite thighs.
GUS: [pushes Shawn into the nearest wall]
*
[INT. HENRY SPENCER'S HOME.
Henry and Gus are seated at the dining table. Shawn is walking back and forth between the door and the stovetop.]
HENRY: Would you stop pacing and sit down?
SHAWN: Yeah, that's -- not gonna happen.
GUS: [tries not to laugh]
SHAWN: [narrows eyes at him] If that's what you call gentle, Gus, I think I know why your last three boyfriends broke up with you.
GUS: They broke up with me because you were always sneaking into my house while we were --
HENRY: Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm trying to eat lunch here, okay? [gestures with fork at plate of eggs and hash browns]
SHAWN: Technically it's more like brunch.
GUS: Early brunch.
SHAWN: Earunch?
GUS: That's hideous.
SHAWN: Brunearly?
GUS: If you're a Viking.
HENRY: Hey! [looks at them until they pay attention to him] Focus. Now, let's go over this from the beginning. What's the biggest hole in this case?
SHAWN: That's easy. The identity of the kidnapper.
GUS: We don't even have a rough description of this person -- sex, age, height, weight, none of it.
SHAWN: They've been over the security tape footage with a fine tooth comb.
GUS: Nada.
SHAWN: Zip.
GUS: Zilch.
HENRY: Well, it's simple, guys. [takes sip of his black coffee] Why waste energy on what you don't know?
SHAWN: So what you're saying is...
HENRY: Use what you do know to fill in the blanks.
*
[INT. PSYCH OFFICE.
It is early afternoon. Shawn lays out two photos on the table. Gus looks on, hands in his pockets. He is wearing khakis and a blue button-up and Shawn is wearing jeans and a green collared shirt.]
GUS: Wow. Jules mentioned these guys looked alike, but this is just uncanny. Looks like our kidnapper has a type.
[Photos show Tyson Verde and Darryl Hawthorne, the kidnapping victims. They have incredibly similar features and coloring; they could be mistaken for brothers.]
SHAWN: And these were the guys the victims tried to leave with. [lines up photos of Jack Ramamurthy and Greg Peck in another row underneath the first]
GUS: They don't look alike.
SHAWN: No, but they do have something else in common.
GUS: Huh. [leans in] You're right. They could both be male models.
SHAWN: Seems like our kidnapees also had a type. [taps lips with index finger] But what does it mean?
GUS: They bought into the idealized and unrealistic image that the media tries to sell young queer men as beautiful, disregarding the multitude of other potential partners available who don't necessarily fit into the cookie-cutter model of male attractiveness?
SHAWN: I knew that Queer Studies minor was a mistake.
GUS: I'm not the one who thinks pansexual means having sex with cookware.
SHAWN: Always hating on the kink, Gus. Just because it doesn't float your boat is no reason to rain on anyone else's copper-plated non-stick parade.
GUS: Please. Like you know the first thing about being kinky. Fuzzy handcuffs and an inexplicable attraction to Jeff Goldblum as a furry blue alien in Earth Girls Are Easy don't count.
SHAWN: But he spoiled me for all other men, Gus.
GUS: It's not even canonically confirmed whether he has a penis in that movie, Shawn. You might wanna reconsider.
SHAWN: Wait just one ballgagging minute. [raises a finger in the air and then slowly points it at Gus] When did you become Mr. Kink-It-All?
GUS: Let's just say, [brushes non-existent lint off shoulder], you don't know everything there is to know about me.
SHAWN: [raises eyebrow] Oh, really?
[Sound of door opening. O'Hara enters. She is in her bartender outfit.]
O'HARA: [waves] Hey, guys. [sits down in a chair, sighing]
SHAWN: Long night staving off the ladies, huh?
O'HARA: I wish.
[Gus and Shawn look at each other.]
O'HARA: I mean, no. No. Nothing like that. I worked the closing shift. And to top it off, it was with this woman who was a huge Gabrielle fan, and you know, I don't hate Gabrielle or anything, but I'm really more of a Xena girl, and she just kept going on and on and on about her, and then by the time we were done cleaning up I'd hit, like, my fifth wind. [yawns] And then, since I was up so late already I thought I might as well just keep looking through the file, y'know? I mean, yes, I've basically memorized it, but I figured one more look, [yawns widely], couldn't really hurt that much, could it? And I just thought, you know, [yawns again], that if I looked at it from a different angle, maybe something would... [head starts tilting to side]
GUS: [grabs pillow from couch and runs over, slipping it under O'Hara's cheek just as she falls asleep]
SHAWN: [whispering] Nice. [offers up fist for bumping]
GUS: [bumps it] Should we just let her sleep it off?
SHAWN: [nods] You get the drapes, I'll get a blanket. Meet you out at the car in five.
*
[INT. GUS' CAR.
Gus is in the driver's seat, Shawn is in the passenger's seat.]
GUS: Where to now?
SHAWN: Well, like my dad said. We have to focus on what we have instead of what we don't. So let's go back to where it all started.
GUS: [dramatically] Gayopolis.
SHAWN: I'm seriously considering naming our first child that.
GUS: [shakes head] I'm not hearing it, Shawn.
SHAWN: Dude, Gayopolis Guspencer? Best name ever.
GUS: [scoffs] Yeah, that won't cause the kid any problems later in life.
SHAWN: Oh, come on, Gus. You know I can't sign off on Lavendar. That name is way too gay.
GUS: [exhales slowly counting to ten under his breath] We have a case to solve. I am focusing on solving the case at hand. Dolphins laughing. Koalas in the mist. [exhales] I am a calm blue river.
SHAWN: How about D'Shawndre Guspencer? Can we agree on that one?
*
[EXT. GAYOPOLIS ALLEY.
Shawn is jamming a credit card into the back door and frowning.]
SHAWN: This always works in the movies.
GUS: That's what you get, learning all your lessons from TV. Popular media is nothing but misinformation packaged in a shiny wrapping, Shawn. All fluff, no content.
SHAWN: [fiddles with credit card more] Says the guy who watches Project Runway and sings American Duo auditions in his sleep.
GUS: For your information, the struggle for creative expression compounded by the time-constrained exercises cuts right to the heart of the human conditi-- [stops, looking suspiciously at Shawn]. How the hell do you know what I sing in my sleep?
SHAWN: Dude, who do you think keeps providing the harmony?
[A guard appears at the end of the alley.]
GUARD: Hey, what are you guys doing back here?
SHAWN: [hides mangled credit card behind back] [steps forward with a smile, offering other hand for shaking] Ferngullius Pennyweather, Alley Inspector, Santa Barbara Alley Department. S'BAD, to those of us in the biz. And this is my associate --
GUS: [steps away, hands raised] I'm not with him.
SHAWN: Backstabby McGee. [waves to encompass surroundings] Great ambiance you've got going here. The stench of urine, really, I couldn't have done it better myself. Everyone could really learn from your example.
GUARD: [looks confused] Don't I know you guys?
GUS: Right, well, we'll just be on our way now --
GUARD: [snaps fingers] Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster. Why didn't you just say something? Did you need to see anything inside the building? The real staff isn't in, yet, but we have two men inside.
SHAWN: You're SBPD?
GUARD: [nods]
SHAWN: [grins at Gus] What was that about fate, Gus?
GUS: You'll rue it, Shawn. You'll rue it good.
SHAWN: [claps the Guard on the back] Lead the way, my nameless yet very good friend.
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS MAIN ROOM.
The two officers are sitting at the bar, talking. They wave at Gus and Shawn when they enter, the third guard returning outside.]
SHAWN: Let's take another look at that stage.
[They walk over to it, walking up the stairs and coming to stand in front of the door they used last night. Shawn leans in, his vision focusing in on the edges of the doorway where the slightest chipping of the black paint is visible.]
SHAWN: These edges are way too clean, Gus. Look at this. [runs finger along the seam of the doorway] With all the use this thing's been getting there should be way more chipping. It's old, splintery, and it hardly fits in the frame because the wood's still all swollen from that storm last week. Someone re-painted.
GUS: [leans in] More than one coat, too, from the looks of it. That means someone who has regular access to the building.
SHAWN: And who knows when to paint.
GUS: Because someone would have noticed if they tried to set up gear back here during a show.
SHAWN: How much does that narrow down our list?
GUS: [considers] That knocks out the regulars, leaving full- and part-time staff and the volunteers. About thirty-five, give or take a few.
SHAWN: Damn. And how long do we have to cross out thirty-four of those people?
GUS: Two and a half hours if you're still trying to bring the wrath of the three Furies down upon you, nine and a half if you're a rational human being going by the Chief's clock.
SHAWN: Gus, don't be a peppermint flavored lubricant that stings my secret places when improperly applied. We'll finish here, head back to the office for a little spoonsie and be back in time for the staff meeting where we can make our list, check it twice, and pick out who's been naughty and nice.
GUS: Whatever you say, Shawn. Whatever you say. [looks around the main room] What else is there to see in here?
[Shawn looks around room, vision focusing in on the unlit exit signs and the positioning of the storeroom and closet doors. Vision stops, narrowing in on the doorframe to the coat check, noting a tiny black smudge on the white paint.]
SHAWN: And we're walking.
[Shawn walks across the room, Gus follows. When they reach the coat check room, Shawn opens the door with a flourishing bow.]
SHAWN: After you.
[Gus inclines his head and walks in. Shawn follows, noticing a few more black smears on the wood of the floor.]
GUS: [looking through the few hanging jackets left over from last night] This place is tiny. It can hardly fit on person, much less two.
[Shawn's vision narrows in on one piece of wood paneling that is slightly lighter than the rest of the pieces. He steps forward and presses on it. Nothing happens.]
SHAWN: Hmm. And I was so sure there was another secret passageway or something back here.
GUS: Two secret passageways in one building?
SHAWN: What, because one secret passageway is normal but two is unheard of?
GUS: Fine. [taps Shawn's shoulder with the back of his hand] Step aside, let a professional handle this.
SHAWN: Professional? What are you, the wood whisperer?
[Gus exhales loudly, shaking out his arms. He smooths his fingers over his eyebrows, kicking his feet out.]
SHAWN: Gus.
GUS: Professional at work, Shawn.
[After doing a few more kicks, Gus bends at his knees and examines the wood carefully. He presses three places on the wood, two with his hands and one with his foot, and the large paneling slides aside to reveal a small chamber, just large enough for one person.]
GUS: [exuding smugness] You were saying?
SHAWN: That you're so freaking hot right now.
GUS: It's very simple, Shawn. The principles of discovering the proper latch-and-release sequences on a hidden door are parallel to the extrapolation of the tumbler cascade on a safe --
SHAWN: And now not so hot. [steps forward, kneeling and peering into the hidden room]
GUS: The kidnapper must have lured his victims in here.
SHAWN: With candy, perhaps. Or those shiny little glow sticks that you should never, ever crack open and try to drink, because no matter what anyone tells you they taste nothing like liquid pixie sticks.
GUS: Not everyone has your gnat-like attention span, Shawn. Maybe he, I don't know, told them there was something important in here they had to get before they left?
SHAWN: [rubs finger on chin] And it would have to be really important to get those guys away from their Calvin Klein hookups.
GUS: [makes a sound of agreement] You know that's right. If a guy that hot ever hit on me --
SHAWN: [smiles, puts a hand on his chest] I'm here for you, Gus. Whenever you need me. Just say the word.
GUS: The word would be no. Anyway. He must've knocked them out, too. Hidden, sure. Soundproof? Not even close. This secret wall is like paper. [knocks on it, it jiggles back and forth from the force]
SHAWN: [nods] If they were screaming in there, someone would have heard them. [reaches down and picks up a stray fibers from floor] And it looks like he tied them up, too.
[Vision zooms in and notices that one of the fibers mixed amongst the rope fibers stands out. It is white and fuzzy.]
SHAWN: Dude. [holds up fiber for Gus] We've seen the hat this came from.
GUS: [eyes go wide] That looks like it's from Darryl Hawthorne's beanie.
SHAWN: So we have the how.
GUS: Now we just need the why.
SHAWN: And the who. And I think I know how we can nail them both with one hammer.
*
[INT. PSYCH OFFICE.
Gus and Shawn are lying on the couch, spooning. They are in their pajamas. Gus is the big spoon.]
GUS: Is it weird that we still do this?
SHAWN: [snuffles against Gus' wrist]
GUS: Yeah, I didn't think so.
*
[INT. PSYCH OFFICE.
Gus and Shawn are looking at the rows of photos again.]
SHAWN: I have a theory.
GUS: Don't make me ask what the damn theory is, Shawn.
SHAWN: [gestures at the pictures] Dude, it's been right in front of our faces all along. Think about it, man. Why do you think our kidnapper had to take these guys by force? Why bother, if you could just charm them out to your car? Obviously neither of them had qualms about leaving a club with a complete stranger.
GUS: ...because he couldn't pick them up.
SHAWN: Exactly. They listened to all those Absolut ads, Gus. They wouldn't give some mediocre-looking guy the time of day. And I think I have a pretty good idea which --
GUS: Oh my God. [jumps up and down excitedly] That Brett dude. It's gotta be him! He's the owner's kid, so he's probably been in and out of that club since he was little. Plenty of time to find secret passages. And he knew exactly how to avoid the security cameras because he knew where they all were. Plus, he'd have access to the coat room and we saw him the other night when he was serving those drinks. No one was giving him a second look, probably 'cause it looks like an animal died on his head. [pumps fist] Bam! I solved the case!
SHAWN: I -- you -- Gus. [waves hands in air wildly]
GUS: What?
SHAWN: Dude. [looks very disappointed] You just ruined my big reveal.
GUS: Oh, I see. So you're the only who gets to figure things out.
SHAWN: No, but -- I -- Gus. You know that's my favorite part.
GUS: [shrugs] Jules, Lassiter and the Chief are all waiting for us at the staff meeting. You can do it then.
SHAWN: But now it'll just be repetitive.
GUS: That's why God created the ellipsis.
*
[EXT. GAYOPOLIS FRONT ENTRANCE.]
LASSITER: Spencer! You're finally here. [eyes bloodshot and hand shaking slightly] I stayed up sixty-two hours straight getting this done. A list of all attendees who were at this club at least four nights of every week for the past three months. [holds out a 2-inch thick stack of paper]
SHAWN: Oh, yeah. [waves hand] That turned out to be a dead end. Thanks anyway, Lassie.
[O'Hara grabs Lassiter's arms when he raises them to strangle the oblivious Shawn.]
GUS: Nice collating, though.
*
[INT. GAYOPOLIS MAIN ROOM.
Shawn is standing on the stage, Gus off to the side.]
SHAWN: ...and you'll find, Detectives, that if you go search his apartment, he's got them stashed there. Brett, Brett. [shakes head] Haven't you ever heard of Craigslist?
BRETT: [straining against O'Hara's hold] You don't know how embarrassing it is! My mom owns this place, and no one will give me the time of day!
SHAWN: Hair gel. Invest in it.
VICK: Detectives, take him to the station. Nice work, gentlemen.
SHAWN: Gus! Check our time.
[Gus grumbles. Then he looks at his watch and grins, holding up his wrist and tapping on the watch face.]
GUS: Sorry, Shawn. Five minutes over the deadline.
SHAWN: Seriously?
GUS: Please. My watch is accurate down to the millisecond.
SHAWN: Well, better get that tongue limbered up. You're going to have a lot of licking to do.
GUS: In your dreams.
*
[INT. PSYCH OFFICE.
Shawn is standing in the kitchen area, dripping.]
SHAWN: Gus! I'm melting!
GUS: I already told you, Shawn. It's not happening.
SHAWN: Oh, come on. It's Almond Hazelnut Swirl Häagen-Dazs, your favorite. Think of all the deliciousness going to waste.
GUS: [sighs] Fine. One shoulder. And then you're taking me out for a real sundae.
SHAWN: I see no reason this day can't feature multiple ice cream activities.
GUS: And I get the cherry all to myself.
SHAWN: No halfsies?
GUS: Cherry or no deal.
SHAWN: [sighs] Deal.
*
[INT. GUS' BEDROOM.
It is nighttime. Gus and Shawn are lying side-by-side on Gus' bed.]
SHAWN: Dude, I've been the pillow for the last twenty-five years.
GUS: And my vertebrae thank you. [plops head onto Shawn's stomach]
SHAWN: If it weren't for that Lady and the Tramp stem action earlier I'd be really annoyed at you right now.
GUS: [lays arm across Shawn's waist with a sleepy sigh] Night, Shawn.
SHAWN: [smiles to himself] Night, Gus.
*
PSYCH OUT. (This Psych Out is sponsored by Good Vibrations.)
[Shawn leaps into Gus' arms, wearing only hotpants, wrapping his legs around Gus' waist. Gus holds him up by his ass.]
SHAWN: You!
GUS: I wanna take you to the gay bar.
[Lassiter enters, wearing blue hotpants, a badge at his hip, a policeman's hat, aviators and a pornstache.]
SHAWN: I wanna take you to the gay bar.
LASSITER: I wanna take you to the gay bar, gay bar, gay baaaaaaar.
[O'Hara walks across screen in a Xena costume, scissoring her arms and bobbing her head.]
O'HARA: I've got something to put in you.
VICK: [pops her head on-screen quickly] I've got something to put in you.
McNAB: [slides into frame wearing a leopard print speedo, playing fervent air guitar and grinning] I've got something to put in you!
LASSITER: [hip thrusts] At the gay bar, gay bar, gay baaaaaaar.
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