Desk Job


"Yes, Gus," Shawn says in one of his wacky accents, managing to make the two words rhyme. "How may I...heep you?"

Gus puts his hands on his hips. "No, Shawn. You know exactly how you can help me."

Shawn kicks his feet up on his desk. "Is this about your season pass to Meerkat Manor? Because I have no idea how that got deleted, dude."

"It what? No, no," Gus says, jabbing a finger at Shawn. "I am not gonna let you distract me from the matter at hand. What did you do with my desk?"

"I did notheeng with your desk," Shawn says, back to the ridiculous accent. He's so obviously trying to play it cool, but Gus has known him for a million years and he knows when Shawn's about to combust from repressed excitement. It won't take much to break him.

Gus crosses his arms and stands in the empty spot where his desk used to be.

Shawn adjusts his pineapple stress toy, turning it a quarter of an inch clockwise. Then he straightens abruptly, feet falling to the floor. "Okay, okay, I'll give you a hint. 'It had to go.'"

"Go where, Shawn?"

Shawn cuts his eyes toward the back of the office. There's nothing there but the--

"Oh no, Shawn."

"Oh yes, Gus!" Shawn says, bounding out of his chair. "Check it!" He throws open the bathroom door, and there's Gus's desk, with all his things on it, tucked neatly in front of the toilet.

"Awesome," Gus breathes.

"And you said it couldn't be done."

It truly is a work of art. "How--?"

"Just me and my trusty Allen wrench, wench."

"Don't call me a wench."

"Sorry, I was on a roll," Shawn says. "Isn't it awesome? Took me all night, but it was worth it."

Gus's phone rings.

"I'll let you get that." Shawn claps him on the back. "Enjoy, buddy!"

"Wait, Shawn!"

"You can thank me later!" Shawn yells over his shoulder, already back at his desk.

Gus sighs, drops the lid down on the toilet, and answers his phone.