Summary: Lassie is gonna be Maaaaaaaaaad Poem Story

btw, you read the summary. It's a poem story. That's why dialogue is frighteningly strange and different.


Shawn Spencer Will Rue This Horrid Day

"Good morning, Jules," Shawn said with a grin,

"You wanna tell Lassie I'm here to see him?"

Juliet smiled quite nervously,

"And why, pray tell, are you sending me?"

"I doubt he'll kill you, when I tell him the news,

But he'd kill anyone else who was in your shoes."

"And what are you saying to make him so mad?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he said, making her sad.

"Just tell me right now, or I won't get the man,"

"Aw, come on Jules, just say that you can!"

"I can, but I won't, if the news you won't say,"

"You'll find out, I swear, if in the conversation you stay."

He pouted; she smirked, and relented, and said,

"Fine, 'psychic', but if I don't find out, you're dead."

"Whatever, Jules, he'll kill me first, I'm sure,"

But the news didn't at all seem to deter.

Juliet walked, and told Carlton to come,

He saw Shawn, and put a hand on his gun.

"And what has that fake psychic done?!"

But the shout gave Shawn simply more fun.

"Hey, Lassie," He greeted, a smile on his face,

"What are you doing in this danky old place?"

"O'hara said you had news that's grim,

Tell me it now, or you'll end up like him."

He pointed to a man, shackled and sad,

And Shawn merely laughed, fearing nothing bad.

"Well, she told you the truth; no lies, you can see,

I have something to tell you, to you, from me."

"What is, Shawn? Tell me now."

"I'm just wondering how,"

The fraud psychic replied,

Actually tongue-tied.

"Should I give it quick? Hold you down?

I doubt you'll only give me a patented frown.

Should I tell you real slow? Explain everything?

Might take up time, but prolong the sting."

"Just tell me it fast- I've got work to do.

Unlike some people, and that means you."

"Alright, fine, just listen to me:

Promise no hurting, yessiree??"

The detective did grumble,

A hazy 'Whatever',

And Shawn then thought,

'Thanks a lot.'

Then he said,

"I'm gonna be dead.

Alright Lassie, here's the scoop,

I won't be going, loop after loop,

No beating around the bush- that's not for me!

I'll tell you real fast, you will soon see.

I won't hide the point, and dodge around,

I'll tell you fast, then stand my ground.

I'll tell you quick, and I'll tell you now:

I'll even explain the mechanics of how.

I will use my vocal chords, you see-"

"Shawn Spencer, listen to me!

You'll tell me what's going on,

Do you hear me, Shawn!?"

"Fine, you know how a smoothie I enjoy?

And how your car is like a forbidden toy?

How I MUST have it, though it's not mine?

And now I must say a good smoothie flavor is not Pineapple-lime.

I may have tried this, in your car's confines,

And spat it all out, so the seats, they all shine.

In my defense, I tried to clean,

But I left the keys by the car, and there was this teen...

He was pretty shady, and to make a long story short,

He took the car, and crashed into some store.

He got away,

And the cars seen better days,

But that's all- and you forgive, right?

So.. it's pretty late... so goodnight!"

Shawn sped from the room,

Leaving Juliet to doom.

She headed to the door, and heard her boss say,

"Shawn Spencer will rue this horrid day."

Indeed he did, when he found the next morn,

That he had indeed inflicted Lassie's scorn,

When all that they served at the smoothie line,

Was one flavor: Pineapple-lime.


Thank you! I know that sucked, and I have absolutely no idea why I wrote it, but I looked back at it, and I was like, 'This all ryhmes! OMG!' And I was proud of the poem (Even though, as previously stated, it sucks) and decided to put it up here.