Disclaimer: I don't own the show or network.
It was a typical day for Shawn and Gus at the office. Gus sat organizing the business's finances and Shawn was playing desk football with himself, flicking the football at Gus' head for the touchdown.
"Shawn, can't you see that I'm doing something?" demanded Gus after being hit for the seventh time.
"No, can't say that I can from this angle. My feet are blocking my view."
"That's not funny Shawn and if you can hit me with a paper football then you can see my desk just fine."
"Meh," Shawn muttered as he made another football out of a second notice bill.
The telephone on Shawn's desk rang. "Gus, can you get that?"
"Shawn the phone is on your desk. Move your feet and lean forward. It's not that difficult."
Shawn leaned forward with his feet still on the desk. "Nope can't get it Gus." Gus glared at Shawn as he stood up and walked to Shawn's desk. He pushed Shawn's feet off the desk as he picked up the phone.
"Shawn, get your lazy butt up and pick up the rest of your crap off my front porch!" came the voice of an angry Henry over the line.
"I'm sorry Mr. Spencer," said Gus pleasantly to Henry "but this is Gus not Shawn."
"Then put my son on the line. NOW!"
"Dude it's your dad," said Gus to Shawn.
"I'm not here," said Shawn tossing a paper ball though a mini basketball hoop over the trashcan.
Through the telephone line Henry said "I heard that, and tell him that if he doesn't come get his crap now, I'll set it all on fire in front of that so-called office of yours."
To Shawn, Gus said "I think he means it this time Shawn. I would prefer if you just got your stuff instead of us having to call the fire department."
"You know what Gus? Tell my dad that if he did that that I'd call the police for arson and he'd lose his nice cushy job working at the department again."
"Gus, tell my fake psychic son that if he does that then he can forget about ever getting the police to call him for jobs ever again because I'll tell them all about his 'psychic' abilities."
"He threatened to tell the cops about your 'gift.' Come on Shawn we don't need any more bills," said Gus desperately to a bored Shawn.
"He was the one who verified that I was psychic so he'd still be in bigger trouble. And I'm sure our bills aren't that bad," Shawn put his feet back up onto his desk and his arms above his head.
"Not that bad? Shawn, what did you think I was doing over there with all of our final notices?"
"Getting ready for the best paper football tournament we've had since grade school?"
"Don't worry Mr. Spencer, Shawn and I will be over in just a second," said Gus to Henry "Won't we Shawn?"
"We? What we?"
"Shawn!"
"Thank you Gus, you have half an hour or you'll want to start dialing for the fire department." The dial tone sounded in Gus' ear.
"Come on Shawn," said Gus getting ready to go.
"Eh, I think one of us should stay here and continue to organize the bills," said Shawn dunking another paper basketball through the hoop.
"And by organize you mean put all of the bills second notice or lower into the trash and placing all the final notices into the misplaced pile?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
It was at times like these that made Gus wish that he had never met Shawn Spencer. However there was one way to save the agency's precious front lawn and it was so not beneath Gus to use it. After all it is how Gus managed to get Shawn to do anything. All he needed was…
Drat! He had used his last Snickers in his coat to get Shawn to that environmental clean-up. He paused for a second. Maybe there were still a few in his desk drawer. He sat back down and opened up the top drawer, nothing but papers. He slid open the second drawer, yoyos and a pineapple. What was a pineapple doing in his drawer? And why was it wearing sunglasses? Saving that question for another time, Gus opened the bottom draw of his desk and found that he still had a stash of candy in the far back. He pulled it out.
"Shawn, why have all my skittles been replaced with bags of rice?
"An excellent question," said Shawn "I did notice some birds with oddly colored tongues outside today."
"Shawn, tell me you have not been feeding my candy to the birds."
"I would never do buddy, but it could have been those nasty lep-"
"Forget it Shawn," Gus said as he picked up his last snickers and making a mental list to buy some more candy and a safe that Shawn couldn't, or at least have a harder time, cracking.
"Gus where are you going?" asked Shawn noticing Gus getting ready to leave.
"Same place as you: to get your stuff off your dad's front porch."
"Nah, I'll get it tomorrow." Gus resisted the urge to slap his hand to his face.
"Here, have a Snickers Shawn," said Gus as he held up the candy.
"Oh, you know they are so filling," said Shawn getting up and following Gus out to his car.
Constructive Criticism please.