Please don't touch it.
Excuse me.
Gus, Gus, Gus!
Where's your project, Shawn?
- Did you even do it? - My project?
Of course I did it.
When?
Last night.
It's right here.
This head is to exact scale.
It took me three months to make it.
Yours took five minutes.
No, Gus, you're totally wrong.
It took me a whole hour.
Check this out.
I hate you, Shawn.
Lompoc.
Okay, I did it.
That's seven in row.
Eight... the gas station guy confessed last week!
Oh, I wouldn't call myself a hero.
I'm just doing my job just like all of you.
Hey, that's enough goofing off.
Let's get back to work, huh?
You too.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Detective Lassiter!
Oh, stop it!
- Jules! - Shawn.
- Is there a problem? - With what?
With you. With me. With the Chief.
She hasn't called in a month.
Is she still mad about me requisitioning the Segway?
You did that?
No.
Well, I don't really
have time right now, but the short answer is
we just haven't really needed any outside help.
Well, what's the long answer?
I mean, throw a "but" in there
and add something about a dream
where you and I got thrown out of a mattress showroom.
Detective Lassiter is literally on fire.
What kind of fire are we talking about?
Michael Jackson in the Pepsi commercial fire
or misusing the word "literally" fire?
He's solved eight cases in a row fire.
Nine... I just rembered the DeShano case.
Hey, Shawn. What's new?
You still doing the psychic thing?
Is this some sort of weird dream?
On the last two cases, the first suspect
Lassiter questioned confessed.
It's really magnificent.
We are talking about Carlton Lassiter, right?
Yea high?
Bats ninth for the department softball team?
Tenth. We play with a rover.
Spencer, long time, no see.
Or is that no need?
I can't believe this.
Oh, believe it. It's real.
They've done a preliminary on the body down
at the marina, Detective.
They're ready for you at the scene.
Well, I would love to stay and chat,
but duty does call.
Oh, Spencer, you look so sad.
Come on, we'll show you how real cops do it.
No comeback?
Shawn, that's slightly embarrassing.
Where'd you get that... suit? The toilet store?
Good luck with this one, Detective.
There's no identification.
Nobody's been reported missing fitting this description.
Oh, Mr. Spencer.
I'm surprised you didn't take the Segway.
She did know about that.
O'Hara just told me.
Traitor.
I'll deal with you later.
So what's the new case we've got?
A slight error in grammar there, buddy.
Which part? "Got. "
I came all the way down from the office, Shawn.
Gus, don't be a giant snapping turtle.
We'll have a case in five minutes.
Nobody can explain these puncture wounds.
We can't rule out an animal attack.
No... no, there's nothing in these waters
with a bite radius that large.
No, this is maybe a... boating accident.
The wounds caused by some machinery.
I can't really be sure at this juncture.
Completely stumped.
You getting something,
Mr. Spencer?
Yes.
Yes, I am.
No, no, no! No, hold on. Okay, I've got it.
The wound on the head
was caused by the edge of a boat
when he fell in the water unconscious.
And the wounds on the back,
they were caused by a large industrial crab trap.
Or a whale.
It definitely could've been a whale.
Lost from his pod.
Separated, migrating north or south.
And sees our man dead, already floating up
above the surface.
Thinks it's a seal and then... whale.
A whale?
What's your guy got?
Watch and learn, Jules.
Watch and learn.
Or... Detective,
if you don't mind,
I'd like to see what Mr. Spencer has to offer.
All right, look,
this is gonna be a little rough, okay?
I didn't have time for shading.
There's no forced perspective.
If I had really had my druthers,
I would've done it in charcoal.
You know what I'm talking about.
Look, what I'm trying to say is,
I'm not the artist I'd like to be...
Okay, Mr. Spencer, enough.
Can you or can you not tell us who's responsible
for this man's death?
If I can present you with a semi-accurate sketch
of the culprit, is that enough to get us on this case?
Yes.
All right.
The puncture wounds.
They're the key.
Giving me the impression that this crime could only
have been committed... by this guy.
This guy here.
Excuse me.
What?
Chief?
Where are you off to?
So what, that's a no?
Gus!
This is not a boating accident.
Psych 202 : "65 Million Years Off"
o/~ I know you know o/~
o/~ That I'm not telling the truth o/~
o/~ I know you know o/~
o/~ They just don't have any proof o/~
o/~ Where's the deception? o/~
o/~ Learn how to bend o/~
o/~ Your worst inhibitions o/~
o/~ Tend to psych you out in the end o/~
Synchro: Flolo et Arbu www.SeriesSub.com
You're mad.
No, I'm not mad. I'm happy.
I'm thrilled. I love looking like an idiot.
Well, that explains your shoes.
You almost closed down our agency
with that little act of yours, Shawn.
Me?
You're the one spending all your extra time
at your little "side project. "
You mean my real job?
Soon to be my only job?
Gus, you're panicking. Don't panic.
Those bite marks are consistent with a tyrannosaurus bite.
You know that. Yes, I know that.
The hard way.
I was canned from the Wyoming Natural History Museum
for that little shot.
The bruises from the teeth didn't go away for a year,
but totally worth it.
It was my best screensaver ever.
Gus, please, connecting a dinosaur to this case
is the least of our worries.
Look, I can I stash a toy dinosaur
in the window of the killer.
I can link him to a box of Dino Bites or Fruity Pebbles.
I can play Six Degrees of Dinosaur with you right now.
You've never been in a movie with Kevin Bacon
or a Dilaposaurus, have you?
How about you play Six Degrees of Kiss My Ass?
First of all, that sounds like a totally disturbing game.
What's weird is that my guess on the jaw radius
was actually spot on.
It almost seems to make sense.
So now you're getting on board with your own joke theory?
How are you gonna match your bite radius
to the victim, Shawn?
Drag the body to the Wyoming museum?
I can do you one better.
What?
I need to borrow my dad's truck.
You coming or what?
That's clearly a no.
The one thing we can be sure of is
the cause of death was not drowning.
Blunt force trauma to the head was severe enough
to knock him unconscious.
More than likely he fell from some sort of
a platform after knocking himself on the head.
And this is how he ended up in the water?
No, he landed on something hard.
Dislocated a rib.
He has bruises consistent with a six, seven,
or eight-foot fall.
My guess is that he landed on something else
and ultimately expired before tumbling into the water.
You know, this might be a leap,
but I would check the offshore oil rigs.
See if any of them are missing workers.
I'll make some calls.
Interesting, Detective.
Thanks, Chief.
This theory feels good. Just makes sense.
The work boots, the odd configuration of the wounds.
You know us, Ted. It's worth a shot, right?
- We don't go out on limbs too often... - Thanks, guys.
I just need to measure something.
Oh, good!
You're all here. Get ready to be shocked.
Can we get the sheet off the dead guy, please?
Confirming the bite radius...
No! Mr. Spencer...
Whoa, hey, hey, be careful. This isn't mine.
Mr. Spencer, your antics have always been a little...
let's say unorthodox.
But let me be as frank as I can be
with my assessment of your most recent behavior.
Seek help.
Chief, sometimes you have to jump off a cliff.
You have to close your eyes.
You have to unhook your clip "chasses"...
Chassis?
Climbing thing...
and you have to leap.
Now I ask you, Chief...
will you leap with me?
Are you thinking about jumping off a cliff?
Maybe.
Dad!
I've brought the keys back. Hello!
Okay, this is creepy. Why is Gus here?
Why do you think, Shawn?
He's a hostage.
Perhaps I can shed some light on that.
Two hostages.
Doug Devette is an old colleague of mine from the force.
The Chief asked me to have him drop by.
Why?
Doug is the department psychologist, Shawn.
What is this, some sort of intervention?
Yeah, sort of.
We don't like to use the term "intervention," Shawn.
Gus?
Don't look at me.
I'm here for the cupcakes.
Dad, I am not on drugs.
Oh, nobody thinks that, Shawn.
Well, I'm not completely sure about that, Doug.
We're all just a little concerned
that you might be stretching yourself
a bit too thin.
It wasn't my idea, but he's right, Shawn.
You're acting like a nut job.
Just because I take Gus' giant dinosaur
head down to a dead body does not make me a nut job.
What?
You took my T-Rex?
My mom gave it to you?
Gladly.
She also gave me some pictures you can pay me to not show
your next girlfriend.
What pictures?
The ones that document your Terence Trent
D'Arby phase.
Whatever, Shawn.
You took Danny Dino to the police station?
No, Gus, give me some credit.
I took him to the morgue.
Good news.
Your specifications were spot on.
Your father tells me you have delusions of magical powers.
Delusions? Really.
Doug, I'm employed as a psychic.
I've solved 18 cases this year.
I have business cards and a personalized coffee mug
that backs up the whole thing.
I feel things about people.
You, for instance, are color blind.
That's nothing to be ashamed off.
You're also really stressed about something.
College.
It can be very expensive, Doug.
Oh, that was good, Henry.
Doug, do not be a stooge.
Not a stooge, but in this one case, he was right.
Knock at door.
Karen, do you mind?
We're in the middle of an intervention here.
We don't have time for that.
But you're the one who asked for this.
And I thank you, Henry,
but I'm afraid that this can't wait.
We just got a break in the case.
We just found out the name of the dead man.
You want to tell him who he is, Detective?
No.
His name was Christopher Franzen.
He is a paleontologist.
A dinosaur hunter.
As expected.
Doug...
pleasure was all mine.
Oh, no, Shawn, mine.
We should get together.
All right, here's what we know so far.
A man, a paleontology professor, washes ashore with wounds
specific to a dinosaur.
I don't think we can rule out the possibility of island
somewhere in the Pacific where dinosaurs do exist.
And have an appetite for Jeff Goldblum.
I'm being serious, Shawn.
Well, look who's Mr. Onboard and sounding like
a whacked wombat.
Then what is it?
I don't know.
It actually scares me that my wild dinosaur reach
landed so close to the bull's-eye.
This guy was possibly killed by something dinosaur-related,
but it was probably a model or something from
the archaeology department.
We'll have to spend the better part
of the next 24 hours sifting through
their entire collection of artifacts.
And by "we" I mean mostly you.
This is all there is?
No. No, no, no.
This is just the big stuff.
We got the trilobites in a shoebox,
but the shelf is kind of high.
You've got Pinhead, Chatterbox, Surgeon, and Stitch
up there on a shelf?
Shawn, those are Cenobites.
Well, what are trilobites?
Fish fossils.
Oh, Gus, for my sake, at least pretend like
you don't know this stuff off the top of your head.
Do this move.
Trilo... trilobite?
What... it'll help you!
I'm serious.
Look, Ethan, I can honestly say
there were more historically significant items
in the lost and found at the Taco John's in Porterville.
Yeah.
Yeah, it's a little sad.
Word is the whole program is going under.
You sure about that?
Look, Professor Franzen would never really give us
a straight answer.
In fact, most nights he wasn't around to give us any answers.
He was a pretty crappy advisor.
And when he did show up, he was late, tired,
completely disheveled.
Nobody really trusted the guy.
Look, do not ever take a class from him.
He's dead.
Oh, yeah.
Then totally.
Well, this sure was a dead end.
Yep, but at least we were the first ones
to find the dead end.
Oh, come on!
He really is on fire.
Literally.
I don't get this.
The cops beat us to the dead guy's house.
I don't know how I feel about the police department
being so proactive.
Feeling the heat?
What, do you think I'm afraid of a little competition?
I know you're afraid of competion.
Why else would you have purposefully broken
the Battlezone at Pizza Royale?
Dude, you beat me once.
And only because you first
used the eye piece and then revealed you had pinkeye.
Let's venture off the beaten path.
What's wrong?
I'm just trying to figure out what to do here,
since as a rule we don't break and enter.
What do you mean we don't break and enter?
The 2400 Motel.
The Hotel de la Cruz.
The spellmaster's box.
Yeah, but we really shouldn't pick this lock.
You know I want to pick that lock.
Yes, I do.
Watch out.
What are you, the lock whisper?
Are you channeling Michael Jackson?
Who heard the second click?
I heard the second click.
Really?
Come on.
I can't see anything.
Oh, I got it, I got it.
Gus, that thing is brighter than the sun.
Think you just gave me glaucoma.
You can't give someone glaucoma.
Thank you.
This is better than the entire university department.
It sure is.
And his digging equipment is some heavy duty stuff.
Looks like some shovels are missing.
Part of a portable light kit.
A lot of brushes.
And fine finishing equipment, which I would assume
he was only using in the lab.
Dude, I got something. What?
He was the worst tic-tac-toe player
in the history of the world.
I'm investigating and you're analyzing his doodles?
Doodles are the window to the soul, Gus.
Or maybe that's the epiglottis.
Where's the uvula?
Lassiter's here.
That guy's like five minutes behind us everywhere we go.
Don't sleep in the nude tonight.
Spencer.
Enjoying your time riding my behind?
Definitely not in the nude.
This lock looks too high tech for a backyard shed.
We gotta find somebody who can crack the code.
There's already someone here who can do that.
That person... is me.
Well, make yourself useful.
I'll need you to step back, please.
Give me some room to operate.
Further, please.
Further.
Jules, could you help me out here?
Just get him back onto the cobblestone.
That's good, that's good.
Thank you.
I am sensing the first two digits.
What is it, 31?
Gus, help me out here.
Come on, buddy.
You can have my Tony Gwynn rookie. 25.
25!
Eight?
Three.
Three!
Four?
Two.
And... two.
There's one more.
Wait!
There's one more.
Nine.
That was amazing.
I'll give you that one.
Can't see a thing in here.
Oh, I've got it.
Wait, I'm sensing a light switch.
Tools are missing.
Good work, Detective.
He had a blunt force trauma.
That could be supplied by one of these missing items.
Maybe this rock hammer or this medium shovel.
But where would they be?
The bed of his pickup.
It wasn't parked out front or at the university.
We find that truck, we find the murder weapon.
Let's go, O'Hara.
Burning daylight.
Excuse us.
Man, you missed the truck?
I'm not the psychic.
What?
Why would someone frequent a fruit stand
that's over 50 miles away?
They like pomegranate?
Yeah, I know him.
He was my best customer.
Don't know his name.
But he comes by every night before closing.
Did you ever see which way he went?
Yeah.
Always up the hill.
That's all I see.
Although every once in a while
I see him come back down the hill early in the morning.
Well, thank you very much.
Gus, you got anything else?
Yes, is that peach pie in the back?
Yeah.
Another dead end.
Let's turn around.
Hold on a second.
This looks like a place someone's been sneaking into.
What is this?
Looks like some kind of farmland
or grazing plain.
Oh, look at that.
It's like that movie. The one with Sigourney Weaver.
- Aliens? - No.
- Alien. - No.
Alien: Resurrection.
Gus, the one with the holes and Shia LaBeouf.
They had holes in Shia LaBeouf?
The holes are in the ground, dude, like that.
And Jon Voight was walking around all crazy.
Oh,Anaconda.
Yeah, never mind.
Gorillas in the Mist?
- Death and the Maiden? - No!
Half Moon Street?
Just let it go.
I'll be damned.
What?!
Somebody's shooting at us!
Oh, God! They're shooting!
We're gonna die!
Run, Gus!
Gus, run like the wind!
No... get... get up!
Come on, get in the car!
Hurry up, Shawn!
Start it, start it!
Go, go, go!
Dude, look at the road while you're driving!
- I'm staying down for safety. - He was shooting
directly into the air, Gus.
Bullets go up. They have to come down.
Do you know what the trajectory would have to be for that to happen?
Don't you dare argue physics with me.
Not while we're in the process of almost being killed.
Didn't you see the "Trespassers Will Be Shot" sign?
Oh, yeah.
It totally said that.
My bad.
Mr. Spencer, if you have any substantial information concerning
the Christopher Franzen case, please get on with it.
I've got something.
It's a cluck.
A cluck?
Actually there's two.
Two clucks.
A cluck-cluck here.
A bawk-bawk... there.
Here a bawk. There a...
Cluck?
Everywhere a bawk-baaawk.
Let me guess. You have a name.
MacDonald, perhaps?
No. No, it's a farm.
With a farmer. An old farmer.
Farmer... Shooty Pants.
That's a nickname.
- I don't think that's his actual handle. - I've got it.
Lassiter found the paleontologist's truck.
- You helped. - I did help.
It was his hunch.
It was down at the old marina. I just had a feeling.
I also found the prints of a certain grad student named Ethan Robinson
along with a stack of letters from said grad students demanding the professor
stop ruining his life.
We're sending a car over to pick him up.
Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting your trance?
I don't buy it.
Which part?
The damning evidence or the murder weapon?
There's more going on in this guy's life. Chief, I'm sensing...
digging.
Yeah, the archaeology department was going under.
He was trying to make a big discovery.
Put him on the map, get more funding.
The farm.
I can see the name of the farm.
It's Wallll...
Wall...
Walker Farms. Yeah, we got that lead off the phone records... Yesterday.
Apparently our victim made a series of phone calls
to the farmer trying to buy some of his land, but it wasn't for sale.
Farmer was forthcoming, cooperative.
Definitely not a suspect.
Anything else?
I have to say, you have been very through.
We're just doing what any good cops would do.
- Shawn, what are you doing? - Yeah, what are we doing, Shawn?
- I need to borrow some tools. - What kind of tools?
Digging tools. A little excavation project we got going on.
- Are you still on that dinosaur thing? - We're still on that dinosaur thing?
What, is there an echo in here? Yes, we're still on the dinosaur thing.
We step foot on the far end of this guy Walker's farm in Ojai
and he starts blasting us with buckshot.
We know our dead guy was there every night leading up to his death,
digging around the periphery of this property.
No, Shawn, wait.
I don't want you borrowing my tools.
Oh, Gus will leave his class ring as collateral.
- No, I won't. - Yes, you will.
- No, I won't. - Sure you will.
No, I won't.
I can't support this.
Well, there's a shocker.
You not being supportive.
Would you shut up and listen?
I'm saying I can't support you going somewhere where you could get shot.
What, are you... Are you worried about me?
Shawn, I've been worried about you since you were three years old
and started eating your own toenails.
Well,
Dad, I'll be fine, okay?
We're not gonna go anywhere near the house.
And if it'll make you feel any better, I will stand behind Gus the entire time.
- No, you won't. - Yes, I will.
- No, you won't. - Oh, yes, I will.
You want to bet?
I don't like it.
It doesn't feel right.
I know feelings.
Pardon me? Did...
Did you just say... "I know feelings"?
Perfect.
This will be easy.
Oh, there's a pattern here.
Those guys dig with a reason.
How do you know that?
Gus, I worked at the museum for almost an entire weekend before I got canned.
He was the worst tic-tac-toe player in the history of the world.
Wait a second.
Those weren't tic-tac-toe boards.
Those were all the places he'd dug.
There were like 25 Xs.
No way he scored that often.
The Xs were misses.
In this case, "O" marks the spot.
And that's the "O."
This is the only hole filled by a bulldozer.
No self-respecting paleontologist would use a bulldozer.
Why do you know that?
Because, Shawn, if you use a bull...
- Gus, I don't actually want to know. - Then don't ask.
This shouldn't take long. Grab a shovel.
And keep an eye out for that farmer.
- How you doing on your side? - Good, solid.
I'm holding up.
- Shawn! - What?
I'm keeping watch. That's how the other guy died.
What, you're not concerned?
All right, I get it!
It's my turn.
This is the end of the loose dirt. Be careful.
This is weird.
What, that there's rocks in the ground?
These aren't rocks.
These are fossils.
But they've been processed, finished off, residue,
rocks chipped away.
Stuff you would normally do in a lab.
Franzen found something.
Why wouldn't he just take it out
and do the work in the lab where it should be done?
Unless...
Unless it was too big to move.
Oh, dude, I'm gonna get the leaf blower.
You brought a leaf blower?
You gotta be kidding me.
I just discovered a dinosaur.
Filling that hole was the worst idea ever.
It had to be done, Gus.
We have to save it for when we unmask Franzen's killer.
I still don't get it.
He was on the trail of a fossil graveyard.
It lead him right to Deacon Farms.
Farmer wouldn't let him dig on the land, so
he takes matters into his own hands after hours.
But why wouldn't the farmer let him dig?
Maybe he didn't want his farm disturbed.
A dig like that is worth millions to a land owner.
And the fossils I discovered weren't even on crop land.
You discovered?
Don't try to take away my dinosaur discovery, Shawn.
I wouldn't dream of it.
I'm sorry. It was all you. I'm very proud of you.
Don't you think once they unearth that thing
there would be a swarm of people crashing in from all over the world?
Why didn't he just lease the land?
I don't get it.
- I've got an idea. - What?
Let's ask him.
What?!
We're pretty sure we just found a cold-blooded murderer,
and you want to go to his house and ask him about it?
We can ask nicely. No!
All right, all right. We come up with a cover story.
We're vacuum salesmen.
No...
Traveling gypsies.
No, no, no!
We'll do Of Mice and Men.
- I'm Lennie. - No.
"George, you said that I could take care of those rabbits, George."
Shawn.
"And later on you're gonna cook those beets. "
Shawn!
"Beets make me go... "
No Lennie.
Gus, you know how long I've been waiting to pull out my Lennie?
No, Shawn, we do the National Paleontology Society thing as agreed.
And we keep it very, very simple.
It's not as much fun as whipping out my Lennie.
And why are we stopping here?
Have you tried these peaches?
You're back.
Yes, sir, we are.
We're addicted to your citrus.
Peaches aren't citrus, Shawn. They're stone fruit.
- It's the same thing. - No, not the same thing.
They have pits. Peaches, cherries, plums, and apricots.
I can't do this with you right now. Does your fruit come from Walker Farms?
Oh, no. We grow on our own little parcel of land.
Deacon Walker's farm used to be a supplier of ours years ago,
but they don't grow nearly as much as they used to.
Thank you so much for your information.
If you have a moment, my friend and I would like to buy every peach on that truck.
Including the one you're eating.
You sure you don't want to do Of Mice And Men?
You so much as slur one word, I'll give you an Indian burn so hot
your socks will catch fire.
"Indian burn. "
I haven't been threatened with that this millennium.
Take a shot if your ulna feels safe.
I don't think the ulna's in the forearm.
Trust me, it is.
- How can you Indian burn a bone? - Stop analyzing my threat.
- Get it right. - I got it right.
- Deacon Walker? - Sullivan Walker.
Is Deacon Walker home?
There is no Deacon Walker.
That's confusing.
I've got nothing. Gus?
Then why name the farm Deacon Walker Farms?
Because it used to be called Deacon Walker.
Roger Deacon was my partner.
He's not anymore.
That cleans it up nicely.
- Maybe we come in? - No.
What do you want?
We're from the National Paleontological Society...
Not interested.
Clearly he's not interested.
We would like to make you
a very sizeable offer on a very small portion of your...
Hello, my name is Lennie.
I like to...
You think he'd open up if we knocked again?
I'm glad it only took us an hour to get up here.
Not like I wasted a whole day.
Franzen dug up here too?
No, he didn't.
These are all new and dug with a bulldozer.
A real paleontologist...
would never use such an indelicate tool. I got it.
- So our farmer's been digging too. - Right.
But if the gold mine's out there, why is he digging over here?
It's my dad.
Think he wants his leaf blower back?
Shawn?
Shawn, you're not anywhere near that farmhouse, are you?
Dad, how dare you? Of course not.
Good. Stay away, Shawn.
I know where I rember that farm.
Deacon Walker Farm. I was up there about 20 years ago.
A girl reported that her boyfriend went missing.
Roger Deacon.
He was a partner in the farm.
He was never found, Shawn.
Never found?
That's right, the farmer claimed he went back to England or some nonsense.
The point is, we never found out where he went.
I think I might know where he is.
Where?
- I might be looking at him. - Shawn!
Gotta go.
Shawn! God...
- Dude. - What?
It now appears a lot of our evidence is circumstantial.
We're checking the grad student's alibi, but...
I'm not as confident as I like to be.
- Shawn Spencer's on line one. - What does he want?
He wants us to go meet him in the Ojai Valley somewhere.
We're in the middle of the Franzen case.
I told him that.
He guarantees that in ten minutes he can solve the case,
nab the killer, close an additional unsolved murder, and...
And what?
Unearth a dinosaur.
Well... I'm curious.
This is as far as my property goes. That's all there is.
Well, I've answered all your questions, Detective.
What more do you want from me?
- I'm not entirely sure, sir. - We just have one more person
we need you to talk to.
Lennie?
Don't even ask.
My name is not Lennie, Mr. Walker.
But if it were,
- I would've been amazing. - No, you wouldn't have.
Would've brought tears, Gus.
Guys, the point?
The truth is...
I'm a psychic.
I work for the SBPD.
And the mystic vibrations
of the sea have brought me here
to solve not one, but two murders.
You're a what?
Christopher Franzen was a persistent annoyance, huh?
He couldn't help it.
His department was going under.
He was desperate to find something significant
to save his career.
And he knew that your property held the key.
But you wouldn't let him dig.
You couldn't let him dig.
So he did what any self-respecting paleontologist
on the verge of a nervous breakdown would do.
He dug anyway.
Secretly.
Under the blanket of night.
And into the early morning.
And he dug, and he dug, and he found something.
And that's when you found him. You knew the magnitude
of the find.
Once word got out, you'd never be able to keep
the rest of the world from digging here too.
And you couldn't have the rest of the world
digging here either, could you?
Shawn!
Dad?
What are you doing here?
I was worried.
About my tools.
What?
If I had known you were finally smart enough
to bring some backup, I wouldn't have had
to come up here, Shawn.
Shawn, will you tell them why Walker wouldn't let him dig?
Roger Deacon.
Deacon is buried on the property!
Dad!
Dad, you just blew the big reveal.
You already mentioned his name, Shawn.
No, Deacon was the partner
Walker killed 20 years ago.
- Hey, now wait a minute here... - He what now?
Yeah, he killed Deacon and he buried him
somewhere on the farm and he can't rember where.
Isn't that right, Farmer Shooty Pants?
I don't have to stand here and take this.
No, actually you do.
What does this have to do with Christopher Franzen?
He killed Franzen when he caught him standing above his
dinosaur skull discovery, sending him flying right into
the teeth of the dinosaur.
But he couldn't bury him here.
No, no, no, he had called the farm.
He had snooped around the farm.
There was a trail to the farm.
No, he had to dump him somewhere where there'd be no forensics.
Like the ocean.
Just let the salt water clean the corpse and wash it ashore.
And the murder scene.
Well, he hopped on his handy bulldozer
and filled the hole.
I'm getting a bad feeling about your streak.
You too, huh?
I think I need a lawyer.
I think you're right.
Put your hands behind your back.
- What? - You heard me.
You still haven't answered the question
why he dug all the holes around the house, Shawn.
Dad, that's the finale.
That's why I don't invite you to these things.
He was looking for Deacon's body.
Whatever.
Are we done here, Mr. Spencer?
No, we're not done.
For my final demonstration...
I will now... discover a dinosaur.
Shawn!
Actually... Gus will discover a dinosaur.
Wait a second.
You just want me to dig this hole.
I do not.
I'm not falling for that, Shawny boy.
You dig it.
I'll take credit for the discovery.
Oh, no, you won't. Give me that shovel.
It's too late.
You blew it. What?!
And whoever discovers it gets to name it.
I'm naming him Zippy.
Or Chompy.
Zippy the Dinosaur, discovered by psychic
paleo-sleuth Shawn Spencer!
Give me this shovel, Shawn!
Killed by a dinosaur.
And he's right.
It was an actual dinosaur.
Technically, it's the fall
that killed him.
Not helping.
Who am I kidding? I am doomed.
I am never gonna suspect an extinct creature.
How can I compete with that?
You don't have to compete.
O'Hara, I am physically incapable of pointing the finger
at a dragon or a leprechaun or the Loch Ness Monster.
I quit. I'm gonna donate my badge to charity.
It was a good run, Carlton. All streaks have to end.
Lou Boudreau fielded the ball cleanly.
You have to let it go.
Who the hell is Lou Boudreau?
He recorded the out that ended DiMaggio's hit streak.
Don't you watch baseball?
Of course I watch baseball.
I just don't know meaningless
- facts from 75 years ago. - 66.
You disturb me.
Do you need a hug?
Oh, what do I look like?
Yeah, I'll take the hug.
Okay, thanks. Okay.
Oh, come on, you guys.
We're still doing this intervention thing?
Yes, yes, Shawn, we are.
Son, you have no sense of responsibility.
And lately you've been purposefully putting yourself
in a severe amount of unnecessary danger.
On top of which, you are constantly belittling
the good work of... Actually, Henry,
I stretched the truth a bit.
This isn't about Shawn.
- This is about you. - What?
Can we talk about your obsessive need for control?
You come into my house, Devette.
You lie to me?!
Let's try to be rational.
Did you really drive all the way up to Ojai just to crash
Shawn's crowning moment?
Get out.
Henry, we're here for you.
- At least listen. - Out now.
Get out!
Out!
I'd like to start.
When I was about seven, he...
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