They pulled up to a dilapidated warehouse labeled Ventura’s Vintage Velveteen . Shawn hopped out, doing a dramatic tuck-and-roll that ended with him face-planting into a pile of discarded bubble wrap. “You okay?” Gus asked, not moving from the car.
“Gus, don’t be the only spark plug in a diesel engine,” Shawn grinned. “We saved the wax, we saved the wedding, and I didn’t even have to use my backup mustache. I’d call that a ‘This Is Gus’ win.”
“Spencer. Guster,” Lassiter growled, holstering his weapon. “I assume you’re here because of the stolen shipment of high-grade artisanal wax?”
“I’m better than okay. I’m inspired.” Shawn scrambled up. “Inside this building is the secret to why your future brother-in-law, a man named ‘Chet,’ has no digital footprint before 2014 and smells faintly of elderberries.” “He’s a botanist, Shawn!”
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.
“Exactly! A botanist... or a deep-cover operative for the International Jelly League?”
Psych 3: This — Is Gus
They pulled up to a dilapidated warehouse labeled Ventura’s Vintage Velveteen . Shawn hopped out, doing a dramatic tuck-and-roll that ended with him face-planting into a pile of discarded bubble wrap. “You okay?” Gus asked, not moving from the car.
“Gus, don’t be the only spark plug in a diesel engine,” Shawn grinned. “We saved the wax, we saved the wedding, and I didn’t even have to use my backup mustache. I’d call that a ‘This Is Gus’ win.” Psych 3: This Is Gus
“Spencer. Guster,” Lassiter growled, holstering his weapon. “I assume you’re here because of the stolen shipment of high-grade artisanal wax?” They pulled up to a dilapidated warehouse labeled
“I’m better than okay. I’m inspired.” Shawn scrambled up. “Inside this building is the secret to why your future brother-in-law, a man named ‘Chet,’ has no digital footprint before 2014 and smells faintly of elderberries.” “He’s a botanist, Shawn!” “Gus, don’t be the only spark plug in
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.
“Exactly! A botanist... or a deep-cover operative for the International Jelly League?”