(GK: Garrison Keillor, SS: Sue Scott, TK: Tom Keith, TR: Tim Russell, DK: Diana Krall)
(THEME)
SS: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but high above the empty streets, a light burns on the twelfth floor of the Acme building where one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions - Guy Noir, Private Eye -
(PIANO)
GK: It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving and I was still recovering from dinner at my sister Eunice's house. She puts a dinner on the table that after two helpings you start to feel your arteries snap shut. I was in my office, working on my second bottle of Alka-Seltzer when the phone rang. (RING, PICK UP) Yeah - this is Guy Noir.
TK (ON PHONE): Mr. Noir - My name is Trimble. I wonder if you could help me - it's about - (HE BURSTS INTO TEARS) I'm sorry.
GK: Take it easy, sir.
TK (ON PHONE): It's very emotional for me. (HE SOBS QUIETLY) I'm an animal lover.
GK: Okay. Fine. Take your time.
TK (ON PHONE): Mr. Noir, could you go to the Highway Department and tell them they've got to remove the deer crossing sign up the road? We've had about three deer hit by cars in the past week. It's not safe for them to cross there.
GK: Right. I see your point, Mr. Trimble.
TK (ON PHONE): Maybe if they put up flashing lights, but I don't think they're going to do that.
GK: No, probably not.
TK (ON PHONE): Can you help me, Mr. Noir?
GK: You know, sir - to you they're deer, but to those of us who believe in reincarnation, those deer are inhabited by the souls of old computer programmers -
TK (ON PHONE): I never heard that.
GK: The people who wrote the Windows 95 manual -
TK (ON PHONE): Really -
GK: The people who designed that little message that says, "This program has performed an illegal function and will be shut down" -
TK (ON PHONE): You think their souls are in those deer -
GK: I believe in a just universe, Mr. Trimble. I believe that predators, in their next life, become prey.
TK (ON PHONE): Interesting.
GK: Deer are mesmerized by bright lights. It comes from a previous lifetime of staring at screens.
TK (ON PHONE): So what happens to their souls after they're run over by cars.
GK: Anybody's guess, Mr. Trimble. You have a problem with mice?
TK (ON PHONE): I do, yes.
GK: Well, there's your answer. (MUSIC) He hung up and I sat there watching the sun go down, feeling that chocolate pecan pie, feeling over the hill and out of touch and finally, I put on my coat and headed over to the Five Spot. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, FOOTSTEPS)
TR: Hi, Guy. How's it going?
GK: I dunno, Jimmy. I'm old, the world is full of squalor and ignorance and cruelty, all the horses I pick finish out of the running, once again the Minnesota Vikings are getting ready to break my heart, which is full of butter from Thanksgiving dinner, and all the women I'm crazy about want me to be their older brother, and give them advice about their love life. Other than that, about the same.
TR: That sounds terrible, Guy.
GK: Ehhhhh. I'm just complaining. (HE SITS DOWN) The more you complain, the longer God lets you live. That's my philosophy.
TR: So you got women problems too, huh, Guy?
GK: You bet. The best kind of problem there is, Jimmy.
TR: I never understood women, Guy.
GK: Only one thing to understand. Anybody who can bleed for three days and not die is stronger than you or me, Jimmy, so don't fight 'em. Delay is the most a guy can hope for.
TR: What can I get you, Guy? The usual?
GK: No. Just a bottle of beer. I'm coasting today.
TR: What kind of beer?
GK: Surprise me.
TR: Okay. (HE LOOKS AROUND ON SHELF) Here. (HE OPENS BOTTLE, POURS) See how you like this.
GK: (SIPS) Not bad. What is it?
TR: It's a new beer. Amoeba Beer. It's a micro-brew.
GK: Funny, the warning labels they put on beer nowadays, Jimmy. Look at this. "WARNING: consumption of alcohol may make you think you are whispering when you are not, and may also leave you wondering what happened to your pants."
TR: It's like the government explaining that the floor is hard so don't sit down too fast.
GK: Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a bag of goldfish, would you?
TR: Sure, be right back. (JIMMY GOES OFF) (MUSIC UNDER)
GK: It was a pleasant beer, with a good nose and a long finish and hints of fresh plywood, woolen overcoats, and your father's after-shave. I was thinking about Dad when (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE) I heard the door open and I glanced over that way and saw a blonde in a black coat and black tights walk in. (SAX) She was so cool she didn't even look at me. She walked over as if I were a mirror and she needed to check herself out. She looked at her reflection in the sweat on my forehead and she adjusted her left eyebrow and smiled. I could hear a phone ring in my mind. I knew it wasn't for me but I thought I'd answer it anyway. - Don't think I've ever seen you in here before, ma'am.
DK: Never came in here before. - You the owner, mister?
GK: No.
DK: Manager?
GK: No. Just a very faithful patron.
DK: Is the manager around right now by any chance?
GK: I doubt it. What can I do for you? The name is Noir. Guy Noir. I'm an information specialist.
DK: I'm Donna Karan, Mr. Noir. I'm a piano player. I'm looking for a gig.
GK: Donna Karan? DKNY? I thought you were a famous -
DK: I was. I'm not anymore. It's over. That was back then. This is now. I don't care. I moved on.
GK: Your clothes, the black chemise, the black turtleneck, the musky perfumes -
DK: It's over. I earned a few billion and then I got a crush on this guy and I didn't notice that fashion was changing - people wanted Polartec shirts, vests - plaids came back - and so - I lost everything. One day, prosperity. Next day, you're a piano-player. They ever use a pianist in this joint?
GK: Depends on what you mean by "use"? But go ahead. (SCRAPE OF PIANO BENCH AS SHE SITS DOWN) Make yourself at home. Watch out, though. Some places where it looks like there's a note, there isn't one. (A SERIES OF TENTATIVE PIANO CHORDS, AND THEN A FEW BARS OF BOOGIE-WOOGIE, AND FADE) Who was the guy you fell in love with, Miss Karan?
TR (COMING IN): All right. Here's your goldfish, Guy. - Hello -
GK: This is your new piano player, Jimmy. Donna Karan.
TR: Oh. I didn't know about that.
GK: Well, you know about it now. Miss Karan is going to be playing Wednesday through Saturday nights and for the Sunday brunch -
TR: Sunday brunch?
GK: And she's going to need a dressing room with fresh flowers and a - and a - a buffet supper - and a car to take her home in the evening - and a - and a -
DK: How about a bottle of beer?
GK: And a bottle of beer.
TR: Coming right up ... (FOOTSTEPS AWAY)
DK: Cool. You want to be my manager?
GK: You don't need a manager, you need an admirer. I'm crazy about you. I love you -
DK: I can handle the admiration part myself. I need management. I'm lost, Mr. Noir. I have no idea where I am or what I'm doing.
GK: You're in a bar called the Five Spot, you're drop-dead beautiful, you're sitting on a barstool next to a guy in his extremely late forties whose entire cardiovascular system you are doing things to that you wouldn't believe.
DK: You sound like a consultant.
GK: How's that?
DK: Everything you say is technically correct, and it's of no use whatsoever.
GK: Well, maybe you've been in management too long, Miss Karan.
DK: How's that?
GK: You don't know where you are, or where you're going, but because I can't help you, now it's my fault. - Who's the guy?
DK: Tom Brokaw.
GK: Tom Brokaw!
DK: What can I do to impress him? He is so cool.
GK: Impress him? He's from South Dakota. Wear a hunting jacket. Crumple a beer can.
DK: I tape the news. I watch it over and over.
GK: Tom Brokaw.
DK: Do you think I should change my hair?
GK: He's from South Dakota.
DK: A different fragrance maybe?
GK: He's from South Dakota.
SS: A dark night in a city that keeps its secrets, and there on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building is a guy still trying to find the answers to life's questions ... Guy Noir, private eye. (MUSIC OUT)
(c) 1998 by Garrison Keillor