AN: Heyllo! Me again! :) i really wanted to write a funny story, and I got the idea for this when my English class was assigned a similar assignment :D RxR if you wish~!

DISCLAIMER: Although I have donated numerous pineapples to the Gods, I don't own Psych. Pish...

~*~PSYCH~*~

Shawn Spencer swaggered through the glass door into the police station, flipping the too-cool double shotgun fingers at McNab, who dorkily smiled back. Close behind Shawn, his buddy Gus strode in, his spotless pants in a twist because Shawn had closed the door in his face. Shawn brushed aside his complaints with a single pinkie and immediately seated himself on uptight Detective Lassiter's spotless, orderly desk.

"Hey, Lassie, ole buddy! What's shakin' in the hiz house?" Shawn held his hand out for a fist bump, which he quickly retracted when greeted with Lassiter's infamous withering glare.

"Shawn, what are you doing here? And more importantly, why is your tucus seated on MY DESK?" Lassie punctuated his statement with a menacing stare.

Shawn bounced off Lassie's desk as he noticed the professionally beautiful Juliet O'Hara approaching, "Chillax Lassie! Don't turn into a rabid monkey on me. The Chief just called me in...probably for some superduperextrafantastically important case, you know, the usual." Shawn was clearly showing off in front of Juliet, who merely rolled her eyes and continued walking towards her desk.

Just as Shawn made to follow her, Chief Vick leaned out of her office and ordered, in her official voice, the four of them to assemble in her office immediately. Shawn reached over and tugged Gus's broad nose, bringing him spluttering out of the amused state he had settled into. "Hey!" he exclaimed, annoyed, as he stepped into the Chief's organized, intimidating office. The chief in question was currently being beleaguered by both Shawn and Lassiter, each determined to establish that they had been called in for the more important reason. Rubbing a hand across her forehead, Vick sat up and eyed the two with an icy, commanding glare, subduing them into silence. "I called the four of you in here," her stare quelled any rebellious mutterings from Shawn, "to inform you about a new team bonding exercise that you are ALL," here she looked pointedly at Shawn, who whistled innocently and stared at the ceiling, "to participate in. Starting today, you are to write an entry in a gratitude journal stating what you are thankful for on each individual day. After 15 days, you will share the journal with the other members of the group."

Vick eyed the stunned group in front of her and allowed herself a rare smile, "I am looking forward to seeing the results of this experiment."

~*~PSYCH~*~

Shawn stalked out of the police station, Gus close behind. Wheezing slightly, Gus caught up with him and waved the gratitude journal forms in his face, "You…forgot…these…!"

Shawn snorted and smirked, "Please, Gus, gratitude journal writing is for sissy porcupines. And I am most definitely not a sissy porcupine."

Gus looked at him dubiously and muttered, "You sure look like one," under his breath.

~*~PSYCH~*~

Meanwhile, inside the station, O'Hara was having a similar conversation with Lassiter (minus the porcupines). "Please, just think of it as a…a…uh…" Juliet stumbled for a moment, "Investigative exercise! You'll get to find out all of Shawn's dirty secrets!" Lassiter's face lit up and he grabbed a sheaf of journal forms as Jules sighed in relief and mild apprehension…

~*~PSYCH~*~

The next day, Shawn once more burst through the station's embossed doors and made his way to Lassie's desk. To his shock, however, Lassie took no notice of his presence and continued frantically writing on one of the many papers strewn across his desk. "I am grateful for the jail cells that house the nation's criminals…since a young age I can recall the sense of satisfaction I felt from seeing a criminal behind bars, a feeling that probably stems from a long ago incident with a mutated tortoise…Dude! Are you writing a gratitude journal?" Shawn read aloud, over Lassie's shoulder. Slightly shocked, Shawn's eyes widened to the size of the flying saucers he searched for every night, "I thought Jolly Gus was the only one who was taking this assignment seriously!" Shawn glanced wildly at Juliet, who merely shrugged, as if to say apparently not. When even a snazzy snow globe failed to raise Lassie from his intense reverie, Shawn walked away in somber defeat.

~*~PSYCH~*~

Back at the Psych office, Shawn lazily leaned back in his (AKA Gus's) comfy chair and threw wadded up paper balls in Gus's general direction. When the fifth one in a row hit Gus square on the brown, bald head, he sighed in frustration and exclaimed, "Shawn! Why not spend your time productively, like writing your gratitude journal! At least Lassie understands the importance of this assignment!"

Shawn rolled his eyes and rolled another paper ball, this one banking off Gus' head and landing expertly in the trashcan. "Bonus points!"

~*~PSYCH~*~

The day of truth arrived, and Gus smugly walked into the station ahead of Shawn, proudly carrying his two weeks' worth of gratitude journals. Shawn sauntered in, hands in his pockets, right behind him. As they walked towards the Chief's office, Lassie appeared next to them, carting a literal file cabinet full of writing. Shawn eyed the documents skeptically and jokingly asked Lassie is he had enjoyed depleting the rainforest. Lassiter smirked and merely made a passing, snide comment about Shawn's lack of paper…he would find out Shawn's secrets soon enough! Juliet hurried in, a small, stapled couple of pages clutched in her hands. Vick motioned for them all to sit and, after a venomous glance at Shawn's obviously empty hands, told them to each read one entry and to constructively comment on each other's feelings.

At Vick's urging, Juliet went first, her entry consisting of a simple note of gratitude for the ability to catch the world's, or at least Santa Barbara's, evildoers. When she finished, Shawn immediately stood and gave her a standing ovation, exclaiming that she deserved a Pulitzer Prize. A swift punch from Gus put him back in his seat, and the Chief merely rolled her eyes before telling Gus to read next.

Gus adjusted his crisp, checkered shirt and read out a paragraph long entry thanking the police department with providing for Psych's livelihood, at the end of which Shawn fake cried with emotion and nearly began to cry in earnest when Gus reprimanded him with, "No more Fruity O's for you until you solve another profitable case!"

Stifling her laughter, Vick was about to select Shawn when he insisted that Lassie go first, as he had devoted such considerable effort to writing his journal… The Chief's eyes widened in astonishment as Lassie picked up a brimming manila folder entitled DAY 12. Clearing his voice, Lassiter began to read in a completely impassioned, monotone voice…

~*~PSYCH~*~

3 hours later, Shawn had nodded off in his armchair, Juliet looked about to do the same, the Chief was on her 15th cup of extra-caffeinated coffee, and Gus appeared to be the only one still paying attention. As Lassie's dry voice dwindled to a stop, he looked out at his audience with pride. At that exact moment, Shawn suddenly, violently sat up, screaming, "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY PINEAPPLE FLAVORED SPECIALITY DONUTS YOU RABID COWS YOU! MOOOOOOOOOO!" Now, obviously, awake, he sleepily looked around at the startled group and grinned sheepishly. Shaking his head patronizingly, Lassie sniffed aristocratically, "You obviously have no appreciation for great literature."

The Chief blinked warily and thanked Lassiter for his contribution, accidentally yawning in the middle of her sentence.

As if drawn by a magnet, all eyes were glued to Shawn, many plainly showing a dubious expectation. Shawn grandiosely stood, and, with a flourish, announced, "I am thankful that Gus used the majority of the paper typing his journal…and that the remaining pieces willingly consigned themselves to the endlessly amusing game of paper basketball." Shawn bowed his head silently for a moment before dashing out of the room, barely avoiding the snow globe Lassiter had hurled at him.

"DAMNIT SPENCER!"