Psych 3:: This Is Gus

“You’ve been Gusted,” Shawn shouted, appearing out of nowhere to strike a psychic pose.

“Shawn, I’m telling you, the wedding is in forty-eight hours,” Gus said, his thumb hovering nervously over his phone. “Selene’s sister is coming. Selene’s scary sister. The one who supposedly works for ‘the agency’ but won’t say which one. We don’t have time for a side quest.” Psych 3: This Is Gus

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

Just then, a figure dashed from the shadows. Without thinking, Gus dropped into a perfect sprinter’s crouch. “He’s messing with the wedding vibes, Shawn! Nobody messes with the vibes!” Selene’s scary sister

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

Gus let out a long, high-pitched breath of relief. “See, Shawn? He’s not a spy. He’s just a man who loves candles and smooth finishes. Like me.” He paused, sniffing the air. “Is that… Himalayan Sea Salt wax?” “Don’t start,” Lassiter warned.

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