ext_166134 ([identity profile] daria234.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] comment_fic 2009-06-18 10:46 pm (UTC)

"We are on vacation Shawn! You promised me a vacation!" Gus yelled, trying to physically Shawn away from the crime scene.

Shawn went limp so that Gus had to drop him on the ground. "Dude, somebody got murdered with a falling pineapple! A pineapple dude! How can we NOT take this case?!?"

"It's Hawaii, Shawn. People probably get murdered pineapples all the time. They're everywhere, like crabcakes in Maryland."

"Dude, are you under the impression that there are scores of Beltway insiders being killed by crabcakes? Because the sheer velocity that would take? Like, twice the speed of light."

"That's ridicuolous, Shawn, that would be like a time-travelling crabcake. It would break the universe!"

"Note to self: Must but Universe insurace if I ever get superpowers and run really fast with crabcakes."

+++++++++
"Thanks for joining us on our vacation, Monk," Disher said.

"We are NOT on vacation together, Disher, we are here for a conference, and Monk is joining us because of the pineapple case," Stottlemeyer clarified.

"Well, it's sort of like we're on vacation together, Chief. I shared my sunscreen with you."

Stottlemeyer rolled his eyes, and changed the subject. "Look, Monk, there's a Santa Barbara detective here -"

"A psychic detective!" Disher interjected.

Stottlemeyer continued, "And I want you to solve it before he does. The Chief of the SBPD is Karen Vick, and she and I go way back. The last thing I need is to have her one-up me."

"He totally wants to impress Chief Vick" Disher whispered.

"Shut up before I shove that lei were the tropical sun don't shine, Disher. So, Monk, the guy was killed with a pineapple thrown off the hotel roof. Will you take a look around?"

"Sure, Chief. I think I can do a little bit better than some two-bit psychic."

Just then a man came twirling into their space as if possessed by a spirit who kept reciting characters from '80's movies. He stopped in front of Monk, put his hand right on Monk's face and said, "I can feel it! You are going to help me solve this terrible crime!"

Trying hard not to lose it, Monk said, "Please take your hand off me. Now. Now,now,now,now." When the hand was removed, Monk got several wipes out of his pocket and cleaned his face.

"Sorry. Obsessive compulsive germaphobe?" the man said.

"Wow, you really are psychic," Disher said.

"And I can sense you are a quite intelligent man.. My name is Shawn Spencer and this is my colleague, Magnum P. Imahi-mahi. We are at your service." Shawn kissed Disher on the cheek then and said, "That was from your great-grandmother. She says she is very proud."

Disher gave a pleased smile as Gus, Monk, and Stottlemeyer rolled their eyes in synchrony.

"We are not working with a con artist psychic," Monk declared.

"Is that how it is? Fine, we'll solve the case without your help. And don't worry Chief, I'll tell Vick you said hi. And that you look rosy-cheeked and handsome in the Hawaiian sun. Let's go, Magnum."

Gus asked Shawn as they tried to leave dramatically, "We're going to get some of those macademia cookies before we interview the witnesses, right?"

Shawn answered, "Obviously."



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