"Shawn! Shawn! Wake up! Shawn, dude, its 11:30 -- since when do you sleep in to 11:30!?" Groan. "Shawn? Are you okay?"

Gus was actually starting to worry about his 'psychic' friend – or perhaps that's annoyance. First, he comes over late last night saying he wants to stay the night for no reason at all, and now he sleeps in until 11:30! At least it's Saturday, he doesn't have go anywhere today.

"Gus?" Shawn mumbled, still looking like he was asleep, with his eyes half open and a giant comforter pulled up to his chin. "I feel terrible."

"Well maybe it has something to do with, what was her name? Crystal from the restaurant, she seemed to like her beer. Do you have a hangover?"

Groan. Roll.
"Okay, okay . . . you want some soup or something?"

"MmmhmmSlmmm . . ."
"Shawn! Speak clearly!"
"Your soup sucks."

"Hey! I'm trying to help you here!"

Now smiling, Shawn looked directly up at his friend, or as directly as a very tired looking man can, "Pineapple."
"Pineapple, you're sick -- or have a hangover -- and you want pineapple?"
"Yeah, come on, Pleeease!"

Sighing, Gus stood to get some pineapple, only to return and have it be for nothing.

"Oh now see," Gus shook his head at Shawn, "I leave for one minute, one minute! And you fall asleep! Well–" Cut off by a ringing phone, Gus sighed, again, and realizing that it was Shawn's phone started searching his pockets. But, of course, Shawn has to be ticklish, so he's squirming around under the blanket making it almost impossible to get anything from his pockets.

"Hey! Hey! Gus! Gus, that tickles!" The now hysterically laughing Shawn yelled.

"Well, if you'd stop moving . . ." But it was too late, the phone had stopped ringing, "Dude, if that was important, I'm so not bailing you out!"

"Hey," now calmed to a reasonable volume Shawn started in on his friend, "You were tickling me!"

"I was not!"

"Were too!"
"Was not!"

"Were too!"
"Was n—"
"Is that Pineapple?"

Sigh. "Well you're feeling better all of a sudden."

"It's the magic propert—ohhh . . ." Shawn started, sitting up much too quickly.
"Shawn," Gus started, easing Shawn back down onto the couch, "Are you stupid?

You don't sit up fast when you don't feel well!"

"Ah, yeah, okay . . . can I still have the pineapple?"

"Shawn!"

"What?"
"Go to sleep!"