Lassie don’t take no mess.
I had no faith at all that I could draw Lass because I feel like I’m not good with dudes of a certain age, but I think he turned out. This guy in a crisp white shirt and shoulder holster, sans tie just slays me. While watching “The Head, The Tail, The Whole Damn Episode” with my husband, I literally had to turn it off in the middle and get up. “I can’t take it anymore,” I said, and promptly went to bed.
"No, Shawn. Nu-uh. No way." Gus folded his arms across his chest. He was taking a stand. Putting his foot down. Other metaphors about saying no.
"Gus," Shawn said, the patience before the storm of his unbelievable excitement. "Come on, buddy!"
"No Shawn, there is no way I am putting on those tights. I was with you when we left Nottingham to fight in the war. I was with you when we left the war and found out the whole damn country was corrupt. Hell, I was even with you when you said, ‘Hey Gus, let’s go live in the forest, we can built a tree fort.’ But this… this is too far. No way, no how.”
"Gus, come on," Shawn said. He was starting to wave the tights around like they were a flag. "You know what the plan is!"
Gus knew the plan. Steal from the rich so the poor could buy snacks again.
"You know you love those little pastries that we can’t afford anymore!"
He did, Gus did love those little pastries.
"And you know that if they see us dressed up in our army gear —"
"It’s called armour, Shawn, and you’d know that if you ever paid attention to a word I said.”
"You know that if they catch us in our cutlets and tu-dads —"
"Cutlesss and tunics.”
"They’ll hang us up for being deserters and traitors!"
Shawn did have half a point there. Gus refused to turn around from where he’d folded his arms and swiveled to face a tree. In defiance.
"We gotta wear the tights, Gus. Come on. We’ll sing about it!"
“‘Cos that’ll make it better.”
"Come on, son. You’re the only person I’ve got left. Jules is with Lassie of Nottigham, Woody is off picking apart dead people… my dad is a dick… Gus. We’re men."
Singing was not going to work. Gus had a strong resolve.
"We’re manly men."
"We’re men…in tights. Aren’t you the one who said that clothes don’t define our gender?!"
Of course, the one time Shawn would ever remember something that Gus had said. “I know we’re men, but tights are embarrassing. Lassie’s going to see our legs!”
Shawn looked down at his calves. “And he’ll like what he sees.”
"That’s gross, Shawn," Gus said, but he twirled around and snatched the tights. "Fine. This one time."
Shawn was too busy doing a victory dance around the grove to notice Gus rolling his eyes, but Shawn knew him well enough that he’d assume Gus had been disdainful.
"I’m only wearing the tights if we get pies after."
"And candy," Shawn promised, out of breath from his victorious fist-pumping.
Gus sniffed, and went to change.