Frozen Bananas and Fake Psychics
Timeframe: Psych – Any time. No known spoilers. Arrested Development – Post Season 3, but ignoring Season 4.
Disclaimer: The idea behind this is mine but, alas, I own neither Psych nor Arrested Development. Except on DVD, but I'm pretty sure that gives me no other claims on them…
Author's Note: So, I started on this idea a LONG time ago. Well before Netflix summoned AD back as a zombie show for Season 4. And well before Shawn & Gus went to Mexico chasing a character played by Jeffrey Tambor in their own show. Actually, I finished it a long time ago, too, but I never posted it. I found it the other day and decided to give it a little polish and finally post it. I hope you enjoy!
Burton Guster was not in a good mood. His morning pharmaceutical sales route had not been profitable. He wasn't going to be able to make up for it during the afternoon, either, because his best friend and partner in crime-fighting, Shawn Spencer, wouldn't stop distracting him. So far, Gus had received 2 phone calls at the office, 4 calls on his cell phone, 3 calls on his other cell phone, 93 text messages and even a singing telegram at one of his sales appointments.
Storming up the sidewalk to the headquarters of their psychic detective agency, Psych, Gus started to rip into his partner the moment he'd passed through the front door. "I can't believe you, Shawn. Over 90 text messages in a 3 hour period, half of them sent to my work cell phone! How did you even get that number, anyway?"
"Gus, it's on your business card. Besides, who wouldn't want to get one of those text picture things of a pineapple that says 'call me' delivered to their cell phone? I know it always makes my day better," Shawn responded, looking up from his comic book as Gus slammed his sample case down on his desk. "Anyway, I had to do something to get your attention."
"For your information, it's called ASCII art. And you thought the best way to get my attention was with a singing telegram while I was on a sales call? Really, Shawn?" Gus bitterly retorted. "Don't you have any cases to work on instead of pestering me while I'm trying to actually get some work done at my real job?"
"Dude, I am working! That's what I was trying to tell you! We've got a huge private investigating job to do down in Newport Beach!" Shawn excitedly informed his partner.
"No, Shawn. I am not driving you to Newport Beach," Gus firmly stated. "Besides, what's so special that would make you want to take a job down there?"
"First of all, who wouldn't want to go to the Balboa Fun Zone? Second, the birthplaces of Howard Alden and Amanda Beard? I'm so there. And how could you pass up frozen dipped bananas on a stick? Personally, they're only my 3rd favorite frozen dipped fruit, but still worth getting," Shawn rattled off. "But most importantly, we've been hired, at an exorbitant fee, to find a couple of missing persons... Missing people? Personas desaparcidas? Anyway, have you ever heard of the Bluth family?"
Gus's eyes went wide. "Are you for real, Shawn? As in the Bluth Company?"
"Yes!" Shawn yelled, pumping his fist in the air. He could see that Gus was already hooked.
"Who exactly are we looking for? And just how much are they paying us to find these missing people?" Gus inquired.
"Enough to pay for our rent and daily pineapple-guava smoothies for the next 2 years," Shawn informed him.
Gus let out a long, low whistle.
Shawn clapped his hands together. "I knew you'd come around!" he gleefully exclaimed.
"Shawn, this is serious. These guys have been in the news a lot lately," Gus informed him.
"Good. So the information should be fresh in that beautiful chocolate noggin of yours. Tell me everything you know about the Bluth family," Shawn demanded.
"OK. The Bluth Company was bumped up to 'risky' on Mad Money by Jim Cramer a few months ago, but that was before their most recent scandal broke out. The matriarch, Lucille, has been arrested by the Securities Exchange Commission for skimming from the company funds. She tried to escape by taking the Queen Mary out to sea. This was right on the heels of the patriarch, George Sr., having the charges dropped against him for treason, as was featured in an episode of 'Scandalmakers'," Gus summarized.
Shawn snapped his fingers. "I knew I'd heard about their problems somewhere before!"
"So, who is it that we're supposed to be looking for?" Gus inquired.
"When the raid on the boat took place, George Sr. and Michael, the acting president while his father was in prison, both managed to escape capture," Shawn disclosed. "It appears that the remaining family members want them back."
"How are they supposed to be paying us, Shawn?" Gus asked. "The SEC has all of their accounts frozen."
"Well, it seems that when they escaped, Michael had $500,000 in cashier's checks with him," Shawn explained. "They didn't tell me how he escaped yet, but we should be able to find out when we go to our first meeting."
"Wait, Shawn. You don't know how he escaped and you didn't think to ask?" Gus asked angrily.
"Of course I didn't ask, Gus," Shawn replied, looking incredulous. "You can't ask an e-mail anything. At least not without looking crazy."
Gus's eyes narrowed and some of his anger returned. "You haven't even spoken to them yet, Shawn? I can't believe this!"
"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud, Gus. We will when we go to the meeting. Besides, the e-mail came from one of the most reputable anonymous webmail providers," Shawn said. He checked the clock on his computer and threw up his hands in frustration. "We've got to get going now and we don't even have time to stop for coffee at that place with the pineapple creamer before the meeting."
"I'm still not going, Shawn."
"Would it make you feel any better if I told you that our meeting is at the corporate headquarters with the temporary president? Judging by his e-mail address, GOB123, he must be a big fan of Everlasting Gobstoppers," Shawn declared.
"That's GOB, pronounced like the book in the Bible. It's short for George Oscar Bluth. He's the oldest son," Gus explained.
"See? There you go. With Mom and Dad and the previous CEO out of the picture, of course the oldest son is running the business," Shawn surmised.
"I don't know, Shawn," Gus hedged.
"Would you feel better if we called the office to make sure the meeting is real?" Shawn offered.
"Yes, I would," Gus declared.
"Fine, mister scaredy-girl-cat," Shawn taunted as he dialed his phone. A few moments later, he spoke into the device with an outrageous Spanish accent.
"Yes, this is Enrique Espanosa with Psych," he lisped. "I was calling to confirm that my boss, the incomparable Shawn Spencer, is scheduled for a meeting with the president at 2:00... Yes, I can wait while you find someone that can use the computer... And while you go find your computer..."
A few minutes later, he spoke again. "Yes, I'm still here... Alright, he will be there. Have a nice afternoon!"
Shawn turned to Gus. "Are you happy now?"
"Very. Now, what are you waiting for? I have a reputation to maintain of never being later."
"Dude, you're late all the time!" Shawn protested. "Just yesterday, you were 2 hours late for your teeth cleaning."
"Only because you rescheduled it without telling me!"