Psych

- You do your homework? - Uh-huh.

Finish those beets?

Yup.

Can I have the fudge cake?

Close your eyes.

- Dad, I don't want to-- - Now.

Which letter is out in the exit sign?

The "X."

- What color is the vinyl? - What's vinyl?

It's the stuff these seats are covered in.

- Purple. - Maroon. Close enough.

- Manager's name. - Who?

She's wearing a name tag.

The woman standing at the front door when we first walked in.

You saw her.

Marie. Can I have the cake now?

- How many hats? - Come on, Dad!

Shawn, you want a piece of cake? How many hats are in the room?

- Does a beanie count? - What do you think?

- Three. - You didn't describe them.

- That's not fair. - Time's almost up, Shawn.

One has a flower: the one the lady's wearing.

One has a picture of some kind of lion,

on the weird guy with the crooked tooth.

The last one is on the chef.

- What about the beanie? - A beanie's a cap, not a hat.

- All right. Open your eyes. - Thank you.

Wow. That's amazing.

It's adequate.

Get him his cake.

I guess I know what you're gonna be when you grow up.

Oh, I'm never gonna grow up, ma'am.

- Nice place. - Thank you.

...later on in the week, but all in all,

a wonderful day to take a hike.

Now back to you, Dana.

The department could use a boost--

I knew you were gonna be my best table.

Ohh! Oh!

...voicing her concerns regarding the department's long-time policies.

Ooh.

Joe, do the police have any leads at this time?

We're at a loss. we really don't know what else to do.

It's been a tough few weeks. Basically run out of ideas.

Hopefully, the-- the police will be able to crack this one for us.

Closing the books on the Visions break-ins

could be just the olive branch needed to set things in the right direction.

- Ooh. - What are you doing?

I'm calling the police.

- Any particular reason? - I think I just closed a case.

You didn't tell me you're a cop.

- Oh, no, no, no. Definitely not a cop. - Oh.

Does that disappoint you?

I just thought you might have... handcuffs.

Oh, I have handcuffs. Hello?

Santa Barbara Police Department.

Uh, it's the store manager. He did it.

- Pardon me? - The stereo robberies.

At the Visions chain store.

He's on Channel 8 news right now.

His hands. Nervous tic. Dead giveaway.

And he won't look at the reporter in the eyes.

- And your name is? - My name?

My name is Shawn. Spencer.

- And is there anything else today? - No, that's gonna do it.

Retailers are waiting and hoping--

Actually, the tags on the news van have expired,

but that's completely unrelated.

I know. Eighty dollars--

Hello, Officer.

Okay, but you gotta go.

It was awesome. Well, yeah.

Yeah.

- Hi. - It was amazing.

I'm Shawn Spencer.

And the other thing is--

Well, now, I'm not gonna pay for it. Uh-uh.

Oh.

Oh. No, no.

No, that's not for me. Uh--

I'm here for a commendation. I called in a... tip.

Uh-huh.

Oh, no, Michelle. I can't pay for that.

Here's the thing. These are new pants.

Clearly, you feel very strongly about this.

Right.

Eighty dollars is a lot for a reading.

But she was astounding.

I mean, she knew about Granny's childhood

and the curios she left Bobby.

I mean, I could literally feel her spirit in the room.

Get out of here.

You know I have the same tattoo?

They spelled "Bloodthirsty" wrong on mine. Can you believe that?

I mean, you'd think somebody, somebody,

would develop some kind of spellchecker for these ink guys.

Cannot believe you didn't test that out first.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

What'd you do? Bust up your ex-wife's car?

- Her new boyfriend's. - That'll teach her.

They got no witnesses.

Sweet.

Might wanna brush the shards of taillight off your sleeve.

Just a tip.

Gee. Thanks, guy.

Sure.

Right this way, Mr. Spencer.

So, when do I get my money?

- Money? - Yeah, the reward?

You guys arrested the store manager, am I right?

Why don't you let us ask the questions for a while?

Okay.

So, which questions might those be?

Oh, I don't know. Like...

where were you the night of the last robbery?

I was robbing a stereo shop.

I wasn't.

I don't know.

I guess I was doing the same thing you were doing.

- Not solving crime. - You're not helping your case here.

My case.

W-W-W-- I'm actually a suspect?

Oh, you're our lead suspect.

- I gave you the guy. - He had a partner.

Wh-- I have to find that guy? I'm confused. When do you start chipping in?

See, your information was good.

So good, it could only have come from the inside.

Inside of what?

Look, I've called in dozens of tips, okay?

- Just check it out. - I did.

I checked out a whole lot of stuff.

Like... Oh, you're currently unemployed.

You've never held a job for more than six months,

and you have a criminal record.

- I was 18. - Oh, 18?

Well, that makes it okay. Let me just scratch this out.

- I borrowed a car. - You stole a car.

To impress a girl.

- Was she? - Very.

Till they slapped the cuffs on her.

Then, all of a sudden, she's not the wild child she claimed to be.

Look, forgive us, Mr. Spencer, if this seems far-fetched.

Would it help at all if I told you that she had a bit of a reputation,

and I was oh for...

high school?

Okay, fine. There were extenuating circumstances.

The arresting officer was my father.

He was trying to teach me a lesson.

Did you learn it?

I learned I hated my father, so, sure.

Well, pardon me if I'm just a little skeptical.

Believable, as it is, that you solved all these crimes--

One second. What was it?

"Watching the local Channel 8 news reports."

I confess. That's not true.

Sometimes I watch Channel 5.

I prefer Channel 8. The weather girl? Adorable.

So you're telling us that you can read guilt off of TV interviews.

Can't you?

Don't you try and trivialize police work.

I think you're doing a bang-up job of that all by yourself.

You can't keep me here, guys. I know my rights.

Good. Then you know you have the right to remain silent.

You have the right to an attorney.

If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.

Wait a minute.

You're serious?

Few hours in a holding cell might jog your memory.

Just give us a reason, Mr. Spencer. That's all we need.

- How did you get this information? - No. It is too late for that.

Officer Allen, book him.

"Book him"?

Oh, come on. Cuffs? For the walk back to the lobby?

Or you could give us a plausible explanation.

I--

Okay. Okay.

Fine. You win.

I got the information because...

I'm psychic.

- Get him out of here. - Oh, boy!

Your grandma would be so proud.

- You spoke to her? - I did.

She's...

safe, comfortable.

She wants you to stop spending all your money on those charlatans.

- The palm readers? - The palm readers.

Okay. Just to be clear:

You're claiming to be a psychic, Mr. Spencer.

How else would I know that you two are sleeping together?

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One--

- When's the wedding? - May 3rd.

Wait. How'd you know?

I'm getting dance lessons for a wedding reception.

And you are getting good.

Wow. That's amazing.

Oh, come on. Who's buying this?

I got it.

Go to Detention Room Number Two. Shake down your vandal.

You'll find all the evidence you need.

All the evidence is in his left shoe.