(GK: Garrison Keillor, SS: Sue Scott, TK: Tom Keith, TR: Tim Russell)
(GUY NOIR THEME)
TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but high above the empty streets, on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions - Guy Noir, Private Eye -
(MUSIC UNDER)
GK: It was one of those cold January days when you feel like you're in an experiment and if you looked up at the sky, you'd see giant men and women in white lab coats standing over you and looking down and saying, "Let's crank it down another ten degrees and see if they go south then." It was too cold to outside -- I called out for lunch.
SS (ON PHONE): That's all? A grilled cheese?
GK: Grilled Swiss. On rye.
SS (ON PHONE): Grilled cheese on rye. Swiss.
GK: Could you deliver?
SS (ON PHONE): To the Acme Building? You're right across the street?
GK: Is there a law against that?
SS (ON PHONE): You got a note from your doctor?
GK: No.
SS (ON PHONE): Are you over sixty-five?
GK: Just send it up. I'll tip the delivery boy an extra fifty cents.
SS (ON PHONE): Fifty cents!
GK: Okay. A dollar.
SS (ON PHONE): Okay. Twelfth floor, Acme Building ...
GK: Thank you.
SS (ON PHONE): It's gonna take about forty-five minutes.
GK: Would it be quicker if it were American instead of Swiss?
SS (ON PHONE): I doubt it.
GK: Okay. But please hurry. (MUSIC) I had no sooner hung up when - (KNOCK ON THE DOOR) Yeah. Come on in. The door's open. (DOOR OPEN. BREATHY SAX) She was a smoldering blonde in a jacket and skirt and if the skirt were any shorter, it would've been a belt.
SS: Are you Guy Noir?
GK: That's me, sister.
SS: My name is Breeze Taylor, Mr. Noir. I'm from the McDetective Corporation.
GK: McDetective?
SS: We're a national chain of private investigators. A subsidiary of McLawyer.
GK: What can I do for you, Miss Taylor?
SS: McDetective is expanding into downtown St. Paul and we want to buy out your practice, Mr. Noir, and we're prepared to pay you twenty grand.
GK: That's a mighty impressive figure, Miss Breeze. And the money's not bad, either.
SS: Twenty grand, Mr. Noir. We'll take over your practice and put the McDetective sign over your door
GK: "Eighty-Five Billion Summonses Served."
SS: Under the golden fallen arches.
GK: So you're taking the private-eye business and sort of homogenizing it, huh?
SS: Uniform prices, uniform practices, no surprises. That's what people want, Mr. Noir.
GK: Just out of curiosity - what if I say no?
SS: We'll open up a McDetective branch across the street, Mr. Noir. You'll be out of business in two weeks.
GK: I see. You people play rough.
SS: It's just business, Mr. Noir. Nothing personal.
GK: I'm sure. Well, it's a very generous offer. I'm just not sure what I'd do if I weren't a private eye, huh? I mean, it's my life. Give me a little time to think about it.
SS: Okay. Here's my business card. Call me by three o'clock, okay? (FOOTSTEPS, DOOR OPEN, CLOSE)
GK: She walked out the door and I had to sit down for a minute (HEARTBEAT) and wipe my brow - wow - it was business, and then suddenly the last glimpse of her made it personal. My heart was pounding. The money was enough to get me to Costa Rica, buy me a room in a little pensione down by the sea, buy a beach chair, and keep me in rum for the foreseeable future. (THUMPS ON DOOR) Yeah, just a minute. (MORE THUMPS) Okay, okay, okay. I'm on my way. (ANOTHER BIGGER THUMP AND CRUNCH OF WOOD, AND DOOR OPEN). Oh hi, Governor.
TR (JESSE): Sorry, I didn't mean to knock so hard. Looks like I busted your door.
GK: That's okay. It's only a door. As long as you're okay, I'm okay -
TR (JESSE): Ya mind if I come in for awhile, Guy?
GK: Come on in. Let me clear off this chair. Have a seat. How are you doing, Governor?
TR (JESSE): Oh, this governor thing is wearing me out, lemme tell you. I only been in for three weeks and I need a vacation, man. The stuff you gotta read! Pages and pages and pages of all this budget crap, and you're sposedta what? make recommendations or something? I don't get it. I read one page and I'm like, Get me outta here. Bor-ing.
GK: Hey hey hey hey - you're not supposed to have to read that stuff. You have your staff read that. You're supposed to get out and have a good time. Cut ribbons, give speeches ...
TR (JESSE): Speaking of good times - I decided to change the name of the Minnesota State Arts Board to the Minnesota State Jet Ski Board.
GK: Interesting. Why?
TR (JESSE): I just like jet skis.
GK: Right. I read that somewhere.
TR (JESSE): I figure if you're smart enough to care about the arts, you're smart enough to pay for it yourself.
GK: And if you like jet-skis, you probably need some help.
TR (JESSE): Exactly. We're gonna be the jet-ski capitol of the world.
GK: That sounds good.
TR (JESSE): We're also gonna be the education capitol of the world.
GK: That's great.
TR (JESSE): Every kid in our schools is gonna earn a B-average or better.
GK: I see.
TR (JESSE): No kid is gonna just be average. They're all gonna be superior. If they aren't, I'm gonna slap 'em silly.
GK: I see.
TR (JESSE): And we're gonna be the ravioli capitol of the world.
GK: Ravioli?
TR (JESSE): I just like ravioli.
GK: Okay.
TR (JESSE): Should I have chosen something else?
GK: No, no -
TR (JESSE): Manicotti? linguini?
GK: No, ravioli is fine.
TR (JESSE): We're gonna be the capitols of more stuff than any other place in the world.
GK: I see.
TR (JESSE): We're gonna be the capitol capitol of the world. Gonna make Minnesota No. 1.
GK: Great. Sounds good. (PHONE RINGS, PICK UP) Yeah?
SS (ON PHONE): You the one who ordered the grilled cheese, Swiss on rye?
GK: Yeah?
SS (ON PHONE): You want mayo with that?
GK: No.
SS (ON PHONE): No mayo?
GK: No mayo.
SS (ON PHONE): Okay. (HANG UP)
GK: So what'd you want to see me about, Governor?
TR (JESSE): I forget.
GK: Maybe it was a judgeship open. Something on the State Appeals Court maybe.
TR (JESSE): Don't you have to be a lawyer for that?
GK: Depends on who's doing the appointing.
TR (JESSE): Well, I'll keep it in mind.
GK: It's very important, who you appoint to a judgeship. You want to make sure you get the right person.
TR (JESSE): That's right.
GK: You want someone who takes a look at the facts.
TR (JESSE): Exactly.
GK: Someone who know how to find the facts.
TR (JESSE): Right.
GK: Someone with a detective sort of a mind.
TR (JESSE): Right.
GK: You take care, Governor. You're looking a little tired. Don't let em get you down. And remember, the name is Noir. N-o-i-r. Guy. Guy Noir. Here, let me write it down for you. Judge Guy Noir.
TR (JESSE): Okay. Thanks. See ya. (MUSIC)
GK: The governor left and I sat and imagined how nice it would be, to wear long black robes and hand down decisions on things. I could see my practice to McDetective and pocket the money and go to Costa Rica and wait for the judgeship to come around. I went around the corner to the Five Spot for a little advance celebration. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLES. FOOTSTEPS)
TR: Hey, Guy. How's everything?
GK: Fine, Jimmy. And you?
TR: Can't complain. Say, there's a lady here looking for you.
SS: Hi, Guy.
GK: Miss Taylor, Jimmy, this is Breeze Taylor from the McDective Corporation.
TR: Pleased to make your acquaintance.
GK: Well, Miss Taylor, I came to a decision. Guy Noir, P.I. Inc. is yours.
SS: A smart decision, Mr. Noir. You want to continue working, or you want to retire?
GK: Miss Taylor, I have darkened my last doorway.
SS: Good for you, Guy. Bartender, how about your best champagne to celebrate? On me.
TR: Champagne, coming right up.
SS: Here's the check. And here's your contract to sign.
GK: What's the contract for?
SS: Purely pro forma, Mr. Noir. Just a promise that you won't work as a private eye for the next ten years, you won't wear your hat pulled down over your eyes, you won't smoke cigarillos, and you won't drink in public except for wine spritzers.
GK: You call that pro forma?
SS: It's just to protect the McDetective public image, Mr. Noir.
GK: Wine spritzers!
SS: They're good. You'll like em.
GK: And I can't wear a hat?
SS: You can wear a cap with the bill facing backwards. But no hat. We're a young company, Mr. Noir.
GK: Well, that does it. (HE RIPS UP CHECK) Sorry. Guy Noir is not for sale.
SS: Too bad.
GK: Maybe some other lifetime.
SS: Bye. (FOOTSTEPS FADE, DOOR OPEN, CLOSE.)
TR: (APPROACHING) One champagne coming up.
GK: Hold on, Jimmy. (POP CORK) Never mind.
TR: (POURING) There you go. Rothchild Champagne, 1978. Nice stuff, huh? Where'd Miss Taylor go?
GK: She left.
TR: Oh?
GK: I decided to give it up, Jimmy. I would've had to turn my back on the Five Spot and you, my pal, my buddy.
TR: Hey, Guy. I'm touched. (THEN) That'll be $434.99 for the champagne.
GK: Hope it's good.
TR: All the way from France. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLES, FOOTSTEPS)
TK: You the guy who ordered the Guccis?
GK: Grilled cheese.
TK: Oh. Thought you meant shoes. Here's a pair. (SETS DOWN PAPER BAG) Eight-hundred and forty-six bucks. (STUNNED PAUSE) The forty-six is for the tassels.
TR: Nice shoes. Here's looking at you, Guy -
(THEME)
SS: A dark night and there on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building a light shines where one guy is still trying to find the answers ... Guy Noir, Private Eye.
(MUSIC OUT)
(c) 1999 by Garrison Keillor