Lights, Camera… Homicidio

1987

Young Shawn: Dad. What are you watching?
Henry: Oh, nothing, Shawn. It’s your mom’s stupid soap opera. She left it on, I was watching it while I was taking a nap, actually.
Young Shawn: Do you sleep with your eyes wide open?
Henry: Okay, Shawn. Yes, maybe I was half-watching it. Not because I like it but because it’s educational. Pay close attention you might learn a little something too.
Young Shawn: That Logan is probably cheating on Skye?
Henry: No, Shawn. I’m talking about sharpening your skills.

Present Day

Shawn: This is a real life television studio, Gus. What could be better?
Gus: Eating my breakfast. I was having a poached egg with hollandaise sauce on an English muffin.
Shawn: Look, we’ll solve it up quick. Youll be back home in no time. {he answers his non-ringing phone} Hello? {and hands it to Gus} Dame Judy Dench called. She wants her breakfast back.

Lassiter: Spencer, thank god you’re here! Now go home. We don’t need you. O’Hara jumped the gun . It seems pretty much open and shut.
Shawn: Ah, Jules. If you want to spend time with me you don’t have to trump up some case. You just pick up the phone, give me a call, say, “Shawn, I’m here. I’ve got pudding pops.”
Juliet: I’ll keep that in mind.

Shawn: But the best news is that, now that we’re on the case, we have craft service privileges. Which means all the gummi bears and Poppycock we can jam in our bellies.

Juliet: It’s about time. We could use some new blood.
Lassiter: I hate new blood.

Jorge Gama-Lobo (Matt Cendeno): She hates me. She beat me up.
Gus: I hardly think there’s a woman capable of that.
Shawn: Bea Arthur?
Gus: I stand corrected.

Lance Rothstein (Saul Rubinek): I’m just going to the writer’s room, where it’s emotionally damaging but it’s physically safe.

Shawn: Let’s go after her.
Gus: Woah woah woah. Maybe now isn’t such a great time to approach her.
Shawn: You’re right. We only have a day to solve the case. We should wait and hang out.

Shawn: So this is where all the magic happens.
Director (Jay Brazeau): Yes. Smell the dream.

Lassiter: Who writes this crap?
Anita: The writers are all so colorful and brilliant. They’re wonderful with the brutal crimes. They are all some kind of geniuses, I swear.
Lassiter: Some kind of murder geniuses, maybe.

Shawn: She’s sweet. Sweet like Mariah Carey on a bender.

Henry: Acting is not a real job, Shawn. I mean how much attention do you need?

Henry: Did you ever think that maybe this is embarrassing for me?
Shawn: Embarrassing for you?
Henry: First off, your accent is terrible. It’s disgraceful, really. You sound like that El Pollo Loco guy. And then there you go, turning your back on Reynaldo. Even after he defended you when you were accused of Gloria’s kidnapping. Come on!
Shawn: First of all, I am trying to sound like the El Pollo Loco guy.

Henry: Don’t be an idiot. I’m not one of your fans. I barely even like you.

Lance: Shawn, this is so good for me. It’s like Hemingway, like Elroy. Steinbeck, Danielle Steel.
Shawn: Ethan Hawke.
Gus: Judy Blume.
Lance: Exactly! I can wallow in the harsh underbelly of prison life. You know, shake it up a bit with the riff raff.
Gus: Uh. The riff raff? This is the Santa Barbara jail, not San Quentin.
Shawn: It was written up in Fodor’s last year as a nice spa alternative.

Chief Vick: I don’t know a delicate way to put this. Miss Pascaretti has filed an interdepartmental harassment charge against you.
Juliet: What?! That’s outrageous!

Kelly: I had to! She cares too much. And her heart is too big for her chest.
Shawn: Eh…