1987
Henry: People do not become bloodthirsty monsters after they got shot. In fact I ‘ve had a lot of experience in the field with puncture wounds and there’s no way a giant dart to the lungs creates a six-inch hole visible on the other side.
Young Shawn: Really?
Henry: No way! I mean maybe the blood-engorged cavity will become purple and expand and perhaps even explode. I’ve seen that. {Shawn looks less-than-reassured}
Present Day
Buzz: Hey, did you say you were looking for a Big Boy? Like a full-size?
Lassiter: It’s a prank. Or some sort of dare.
Sophie Morris Bridgewell: It’s a three-thousand-year-old mummy that’s missing, Officer.
Lassiter: It’s Detective. And it’s not like it was covered in gold. I mean he wasn’t a king or a prince or even a royal food taster. He’s just some guy, who happened to die, got himself wrapped up and was found in a pretty, cracked box. He probably mummified himself.
Sophie: The mummy disappeared in fifteen seconds or less and our main feed picked up none of it. This all cracks of something larger than petty crime. And not to sound too Shirley Maclaine, scream of something potentially… supernatural. This requires someone with skills beyond the normal person. I want him. {she points to a photo of Shawn}.
Lassiter: No you don’t.
Sophie: Yes I do.
Juliet: Do you think he’s up?
Sophie: We have a complex security system.
Lassiter: Which was due to be overhauled last spring.
Sophie: We pushed it back. We have a very abulic board of directors.
Lassiter: Good. I’d like to speak with each one of them as soon as the sun rises. Now if you’ll forgive us we have several high-profile cases that don’t involve archaic security systems and run-down buildings. O’Hara, put out an APB on the guard’s vehicle, look up the word abulic and meet us back at the station.
Shawn: Well you don’t have to get snippy. You’re the one who drunk dialed me. {…} Oh really. I just assumed. I mean it’s 4:25, right?
Shawn: Uh oh.
Juliet: What’s wrong?
Shawn: They only put one name on the plaque.
Juliet: So?
Shawn: So
Gus is going to have an aneurysm. And not the good kind.
Shawn looking at statuary: Have it. Have it. Want it. Have it. Mine’s bigger.
Shawn: Queen Nerfer-titty?
Juliet: Nefertiti.
Shawn: I’ve heard it both ways.
Shawn: That mummy was not stolen, Miss Bridgewell.
Lassiter: Great.
Shawn: I’m afraid it walked out— {dramatic pause} all on its own.
Chief Vick: What I have to say is very… difficult.
Shawn: If this in any way pertains to Lassiter’s third testicle, I’m afraid we already know.
Chief Vick: This is no time for jokes, Mr. Spencer.
Chief Vick: Effective Friday I am stepping down as chief.
Juliet: What?
Chief Vick: I’m leaving.
Juliet: You can’t do that! Do they know?
Chief Vick: Oh, they know.
Juliet: I will write a letter. I will start a petition. I will leak it to the reporter at the Mirror.
Chief Vick: O’Hara, please. Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment, but the die is cast.
Shawn: Chief, are you sure you don’t want to wait it out just a bit—
Chief Vick: No. Mr. Spencer.
Lassiter: So you’re saying the job is open? {Juliet smacks him}
Sophie: What’s wrong?
Shawn: He won’t break the plane of the mummy room.
Sophie: Why not?
Shawn: He’s afraid of being cursed.
Sophie: He’s not that far off base, really.
Shawn: Please don’t coddle him.
Gus: Fact: every one of those guys that unearthed Tut’s tomb. Cursed. They’re all dead now.
Shawn: Well of course they are. That was over eighty years ago.
Gus imitating Shawn: Look at me. Look at me. I love my hair. I can make obscure eighties references that nobody understands. Laugh at me. Ha ha! Ha! Hey, know something about me? I have a motorcycle, but I never seem to be riding it.
Gus: If you’re going to hide under a barrel, don’t put a phone next to your ear.
Lassiter: I just need to go over a few bank records, see some papers and exhume your father’s body.
Mr. Wyles: What was that last one?
Lassiter: Ah, it’s just more of a technical detail than anything, exhuming your father’s body. I mean you wouldn’t even have to be there. I can have him back in eternal slumber by noon. {pause} 1:45 at the latest.
Shawn: What’s on the hill?
Gus: That’s freedom, Shawn.
Looking at the Confederate Flag
Shawn: What is wrong with this flag?
Gus: Everything.
Shawn: Besides that.
Gus: I don’t know.
Shawn: It’s upside down.
Gus: And backwards. What’s your point?
Shawn: There’s nothing here, Gus. It’s just a bunch of old guns. Not even nice ones, at that.
Gus: The Lexan glass case they’re housed in is worth more.
Shawn: Lexan glass?
Gus: Yeah. It’s bullet-proof.
Shawn: Well it would have to be in case the guns decide to fire themselves. Lexan glass.
Gus: That’s common knowledge, Shawn. People know know that.
Shawn: Who? People in Charlton Heston’s house?
Gus: Yes. And yo’ momma.
Shawn: Gus, don’t be a Traveling Wilbury.
Shawn: Come on, dude. I honestly didn’t know he was going to be pulling a corpse from the ground.
Gus: That’s okay, Shawn. I honestly didn’t know I was going to be putting my foot in your ass. Life’s full of surprises.
Henry awkwardly: I got a, uh, I got a phone call a couple days ago, and… I don’t know if you have any plans, but… Are you busy on Saturday?
Shawn: You want me to come with you to awkward class?
Henry: Forget it.
Shawn: We don’t care what he did when he was living. Only since he’s been a mummy. Let’s do this. {he starts diagramming} First, he was on display for six months in Cincinnatti. He didn’t kill anybody there. Then, he was on loan—Plano, Texas. Nobody had their eyes or internal organs stolen there.
Gus: What’s that?
Shawn: A bowl of chili.
Gus: Whats that up there?
Shawn: It’s Austin Kearns. would you pay attention!
Shawn: Woah woah woah. The name of your film is Night Cycle?
Gus: What’s wrong with that?
Shawn: Well it’s kind of boring! Unless it’s about a motorcycle that comes to life at night and solves crime and does sweet wheelies.
Shawn: Dude, he took the van!
Hannah: The mummy?
Gus: Great. Now we’ve got a mummy on the loose and the son-of-a-bitch knows how to drive a stick?
Shawn: It’s not a mummy, Gus.
Gus: You keep saying that and it keeps coming up mummy.
Shawn: I don’t think anybody’s here.
Gus: How sure are you?
Shawn: Fairly to pretty damn.
Gus: Good because I don’t think I can take one more— {he sees a mummy in the driver’s seat}
Wyles: What am I doing here?
Lassiter: You’ll find out soon enough and whatever it is I’m taking full credit.
Chief Vick: I’m the new chief.
Gus: Not interim?
Chief Vick: Don’t you dare call me that again.
Shawn: Okay, I don’t know if you just read The Secret or watched an emotional Oprah or what. But I don’t think we’re ready to open our souls to each other.
Henry: Well we have no choice, kid.
Shawn: We do. And it’s good. Because what we have is simple and shallow and unobtrusive. So let’s have this conversation when you’re ninety and maybe on an oxygen tank. Because I have a date with a woman who runs a museum. And that’s new for me. {he goes to leave}
Henry: No, Shawn, please, no!
Shawn: It just feels good. You know what, I’ll grab the door for you on my way out. {he opens the door to} Mom.