This was stupid. No, this had flipped stupid off while passing it in the right lane. This had given stupid a Jimmy Nickles sandwich to the face and taken its lunch money. This was so unintelligent as to offend Gus's sense of honor and he felt vaguely dirty just thinking about it, like that time he came across a typo in the dictionary or when he'd skipped to the end of A Tale of Two Cities because Sister, Sister was on but he'd still gotten an A on his (arguably well-structured) essay.

He should just do something. He knew it. His co-workers knew it. His neighbor knew it. His dentist -- who was a surprisingly warm and gentle man once you got to know him and had a real knack for being non-judgmentally supportive during Gus's time of need -- knew it.

Sometimes, Gus daydreams about having a new best friend.

Most of the time, he can comfort himself from the trials of Life as Shawn Spencer's Best Friend with thoughts of a tell-all book, or by planning a trip to Vegas where they don't nearly get their kneecaps broken. When it gets tough, he just thinks about how popular his blog would be if he started telling all of Shawn's secrets, like how he's read all the Twilight books, and kind of thinks Robert Pattinson is dreamy.

"I don't really want the wolf to be my new partner, Shawn. Why would I want a wolf as my new partner?"

According to the rulebook of Shawn Spencer, once dibs are called there are no take backs.

"Gus is missing."

Juliet raises an eyebrow. "He is? Since when?"

"Since this morning," Shawn whines. If Shawn whined. Which he doesn't. He's totally not a whiner. Gus is the whiner. Shawn needs his whiner back.

"Okay, Shawn, it's only 11:30am. It's still morning."

"Really? My stomach totally said it was lunchtime. It's the stress; stress makes me eat."

After the seventh girl Shawn dated tried to kill him (this one with a pitchfork. A pitchfork), Gus staged an intervention. "You're right," Shawn agreed, because he still had a concussion and Gus was making those sad eyes and had brought pineapple upside down cake that he was holding just out of Shawn's reach. "It's a problem. I need to be stopped."

"Mr. Spencer's better half is also out of town, as it happens. I thought the two of you could work together on this one."

Spencer threw his arms open wide. "Lassie! Come to papa."

Except Shawn chose just that moment to start grinding back against him, and Carlton prayed that Shawn wasn't really psychic. "Ooh, Gary!" Shawn half-moaned in the same falsetto he used to badly imitate Juliet. "You big, strong man, you."