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realmofthemuse)
Nov. 14th, 2007 11:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
head_psychicAs a matter of principle, I never attend the first annual anything.
George Carlin
"Alright, then don't do it. That's fine with me. Seriously, how long are you going to keep this thing up anyway?"
"Oh, not again, dad, just what exactly does this have to do with your roof?"
"Everything, Shawn, just everything! You come in here, you climb the ladder, you swish a little here and a little there, somehow make it look like cleaning for about an hour and when you have enough, oh well." Henry shrugged. "What's it to you? Just paint a smiley on my roof and stop making it your business. And that, that, Shawn, is exactly what your job is about. Only it consists of more movement and this whole... psychic... whatsoever bs."
"Alright, first of all, dad? I do not swish. Swish is a word with an actual meaning and it sounds totally creepy when you say it in that high pitched voice. Second, I didn't paint a smiley, I carefully cleaned it into your roof. I thought you'd appreciate it. But well, just wait 'til it rains and it should be gone."
"No, Shawn, no. You are going to clean the rest of it and you are going to clean it right now."
"I so totally would love to, really, but I have to go. We have to prepare the party!"
"The party. What party? It's neither your birthday nor Gus'."
"Dad, our 'We-opened-Psych-and-we-are-so-great-and-awesome-because-of-so-many-other-things-but-that-wouldn’t-fit-on-the-invitation' anniversary party! It's going to be a year tomorrow! You can drop by and congratulate us but don't stay too long so you don’t scare away our guests."
"Shawn, congratulating you on keeping a job for one year isn't something I am ever going to do. Try coming back when you managed to keep it for ten. Or thirty. Or something in between that will guarantee you a realistic pension."
"You don't understand, this is different."
Henry crossed his arms. "Alright, Shawn. I'm listening. What is so different about this job? Convince me."
Momentarily thrown off Shawn blinked, once, twice. "I... Dad, I told you before! I'm good at this!"
"You said that when you started selling hot dogs."
"That was different. This is the best job I've ever had."
"Nope." Henry shrugged. "Sorry, kid. Already used that when you were out there working as a tour guide."
Shawn rolled his eyes and growled in annoyance. "I can't believe you're seriously having a go at this again."
"And that was your flowery phrase for the raft experience. Now get back to that roof or find someone else for your information about that supposedly poisoned coffee ground."
"Come on, dad, what else do you wanna hear? I do chores for you to get this thing done!" Shawn grabbed the bucket and stomped out of the door, muttering angrily under his breath.
Henry watched him leave, the corners of his mouth suddenly twitching. "Well, that's a given."
Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 474
George Carlin
"Alright, then don't do it. That's fine with me. Seriously, how long are you going to keep this thing up anyway?"
"Oh, not again, dad, just what exactly does this have to do with your roof?"
"Everything, Shawn, just everything! You come in here, you climb the ladder, you swish a little here and a little there, somehow make it look like cleaning for about an hour and when you have enough, oh well." Henry shrugged. "What's it to you? Just paint a smiley on my roof and stop making it your business. And that, that, Shawn, is exactly what your job is about. Only it consists of more movement and this whole... psychic... whatsoever bs."
"Alright, first of all, dad? I do not swish. Swish is a word with an actual meaning and it sounds totally creepy when you say it in that high pitched voice. Second, I didn't paint a smiley, I carefully cleaned it into your roof. I thought you'd appreciate it. But well, just wait 'til it rains and it should be gone."
"No, Shawn, no. You are going to clean the rest of it and you are going to clean it right now."
"I so totally would love to, really, but I have to go. We have to prepare the party!"
"The party. What party? It's neither your birthday nor Gus'."
"Dad, our 'We-opened-Psych-and-we-are-so-great-and-awesome-because-of-so-many-other-things-but-that-wouldn’t-fit-on-the-invitation' anniversary party! It's going to be a year tomorrow! You can drop by and congratulate us but don't stay too long so you don’t scare away our guests."
"Shawn, congratulating you on keeping a job for one year isn't something I am ever going to do. Try coming back when you managed to keep it for ten. Or thirty. Or something in between that will guarantee you a realistic pension."
"You don't understand, this is different."
Henry crossed his arms. "Alright, Shawn. I'm listening. What is so different about this job? Convince me."
Momentarily thrown off Shawn blinked, once, twice. "I... Dad, I told you before! I'm good at this!"
"You said that when you started selling hot dogs."
"That was different. This is the best job I've ever had."
"Nope." Henry shrugged. "Sorry, kid. Already used that when you were out there working as a tour guide."
Shawn rolled his eyes and growled in annoyance. "I can't believe you're seriously having a go at this again."
"And that was your flowery phrase for the raft experience. Now get back to that roof or find someone else for your information about that supposedly poisoned coffee ground."
"Come on, dad, what else do you wanna hear? I do chores for you to get this thing done!" Shawn grabbed the bucket and stomped out of the door, muttering angrily under his breath.
Henry watched him leave, the corners of his mouth suddenly twitching. "Well, that's a given."
Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 474
