Burton Guster was a good, God-fearing, black man. His childhood friend Shawn Spencer had often led him astray. If it hadn't been for the pseudo psychic, Gus would not be in this mess.

He would not be a bus.

More specifically he wouldn't be Gus Bus.

"Beep beep," said Gus Bus on a bright Santa Barbara day.

A very frightening gang of buses approached Gus Bus.

"BEEP beep," they said, "We are DEAD REVENGE. We are a GANG." A bus lit a bus cigarette and blew a ring of smoke in Gus Bus' windshield. It was mean. Gus Bus had asthma because of smoking a pack of cigarettes in his childhood because Shawn had forced him to. Gus Bus cried.

"Hisssss," hissed a gang bus. "Call me 80. Jake 80. I'm the leader of this here gang."

Jake80 was promptly shot by an actual piece of human excretement.

"TROLOLOL not anymore. Hi Gus Bus, we've been itching to recruit you." He said in a lowkey slimy and sketchy way. He had the voice of a 14 year old girl. In fact it was like a double voice. Gus Bus was concerned. You could tell by the way wiper fluid was dripping all over his bus body and also the sidewalk.

Imagine you're going about your business...or BUS-ness… as usual and suddenly threatening gangsters appear out of thin air. Yeah, that's his experience. Imagine the sheer fear. Like, he got a personal invitation to a gang. His mother had always told him that if he ever joined a gang or any kind of shenanagans, he'd be thrown out of the house. Now he was a grown man. But was he gangster material?

"Dead Revenge?" He wondered aloud, trying the name out for himself. It sounded like a complete scam. "Dead Revenge...Dead...Revenge."

A sketchy little brown bus rolled up to Gus Bus. She licked her lips. She looked young. "Yeah, our goal is to be the best gang, annd to ultimately," she paused, looking around as if her business weren't completely legitamite, "Take down….BRODLUM."

The Brodlum?

"That's...that's crazy." Gus Bus said, going into reverse to make a K-Turn. Unfortuneately he sucked at K-Turns. He made more of a YMCA turn.

"Will you help us?" The disgusting guy who killed Jake80 asked. "You can call me ThePoop or even Mr. Incognito." He shoved a fedora on his bus head.

Gus Bus felt threatened and beeped a "yes" out. He wasn't a big fan of Brodlum either.

Mr. Incognito grinned. "Fan tas tic."

Gus Bus new instantly that this was a mistake.

At the police station, Head Detective Carlton Lassiter was not happy. At. All.

He had once been Irish Bus, but by some miracle he had escaped bus purgatory. Everyone had...except Gus of course. Now Shawn Spencer was free to misbehave in the police department even more than usual. Gus was not there. Lassie missed him.

He looked down at Shawn who was now in his lap.

"Lassie, your hair is terrible today," he clucked. Shawn of course was half chicken...er...rooster...well he certainly was cocky.

Shawn licked Lassie's face.

Carlton pretended like he was a lolipop. It was the only way he could get through the day. Juliet ran away. The sexual tension was too real and too unresolved.

Karen ran away because of the UST. It was rough. So unresolved.

Juliet cried because her OTL was involved in an OTP with her partner. Then she saw something suspicious. It was Gus Bus with a gang. A gang of buses. He had become a gangster bus. She gasped.

She ran away, but saw Shassie happening behind her so she ran to the gangster buses. She prepared herself to be a victim of whatever was about to happen.

Then, a scary gangster with a fedora swooped in.

"I am Brodlum."

A disgusting gangster bus threw a rock at him. Then threw his gun at him. Then a bullet.

Juliet stared.

Brodlum has an infinite crew bank so the disgusting gangster immediately died. He was also extorted of all of his money. Brodlum laughed. "Ha-ha-ha you can't fool me for I am thetruemaster."

A horse galloped in the distance before it's hoof got caught in a pile of glue that had been carelessly left by Shawn Spencer. Earlier that day. The horse whinnied and collapsed into the glue. A greasy janitor whacked the horse with his broom, the slick oil drenched the horse. The horse died because of malnutrition. Rice has no nurtitional value after all. Culture is pointless and so is fasting. I ran my heart out until my knees popped out and now I can't run anymore. His name was Pasta.

A sketchy-ass man who may or may not have been part of Gus Bus' gang then did unspeakable things to the horse. He screamed "OH YES, MY LOVELY LADY," as his excitement escalated. The horse cried pitifully.

Juliet ran away to watch Shawn and Lassie making out. Anything would be better than this complete b.s.