(GK: Garrison Keillor, SS: Sue Scott, TK: Tom Keith, TR: Tim Russell)
(GUY NOIR THEME)
SS: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but high above the quiet 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.
(THEME UP AND OUT)
GK: It was a bitterly cold day in St. Paul, the sort of day when your mind sort of snaps shut and you no longer think about truth and beauty, you think about crawling into bed, preferably one that's been pre-warmed by someone with a high fever. I was in my office, eating shrimp in garlic sauce out of a white container, watching my favorite soap opera, The Times of Our Lives.
SS (ON TV): Dave?
TR (ON TV): What?
SS (ON TV): Are you listening to me?
TR (ON TV): Uh huh.
SS (ON TV): Would you mind putting the paper down for one minute?
TR (ON TV): What's wrong?
SS (ON TV): I'm trying to talk to you.
TR (ON TV): Fine. Talk.
SS (ON TV): Put down the paper.
TR (ON TV): I'm listening.
SS (ON TV): Dave, I'm pregnant and I have amnesia and I can't remember who the father is.
TR (ON TV): Okay.
SS (ON TV): Did you hear what I said?
TR (ON TV): Uh huh.
SS (ON TV): Well? What do you have to say about it?
TR (ON TV): About what? (SS SIGH) (BRIDGE)
GK: The show was moving right along at a good clip and I was pretty engrossed in it and (KNOCKS ON DOOR)----- Yeah, come in, it's unlocked! (DOOR OPEN. CLOSE. FOOTSTEPS)
SS: Mr. Noir? Guy Noir? The private eye?------
GK: Yes, ma'am. (BRIDGE) She was a hefty woman in stretch pants and a sweatshirt that said, "Go Fighting Sioux". She had the sort of complexion you get from chain-smoking in a very cold climate.
SS: I'm Esther Olson, Mr. Noir, I came down from Grand Forks. I came to see you about the election.
GK: Mrs. Olson, the election is over. We're one nation now, united behind a president who is going to work for the good of all citizens, regardless of party.
SS: Mr. Noir, I'm a life-long Republican and I've been trying for a month to get hold of somebody in the Bush campaign, anybody, and I cannot get my calls returned, and frankly I'm getting just a little bit snippy.
GK: What is it you want, Mrs. Olson?
SS: I want to get the president-elect to promise a couple hundred million dollars to finance a big fish farm.
GK: In North Dakota----
SS: On the North Dakota - South Dakota border. A fish farm. That's all. One lousy fish farm.
GK: I see.
SS: Fish farming is the coming thing, Mr. Noir. Pork and beef --- farmers are losing our shirts. The future's in fish. Red snapper. Tuna. Scallops. It's what people want.
GK: You care for some shrimp in garlic sauce?
SS: No thanks. ----We've got plenty of open land in the Dakotas. Flat. No trees. Plenty of water. All we need is the capital.
GK: And you're trying to get Mr. Bush to think about this?
SS: Trying to get him to think is too ambitious, but I'm trying to let him know he darn well better give us this fish farm if he expects to be president.
GK: How's that, Mrs. Olson?
SS: I'm one of the Republican presidential electors from North Dakota, Mr. Noir. We meet Monday to cast our votes. North Dakota has three votes, South Dakota has three. That's six Republican votes. You subtract six votes from Mr. Bush and give them to Mr. Gore, and people are going to be hailing another chief. All these folks who expect to be riding around in government limos for the next four years had better get themselves a subway card. I mean it.
GK: You're serious.
SS: North Dakota is a serious place. North Dakota doesn't kid around.
GK: I know.
SS: We're tired of being taken for granted. We vote for these clowns and what do we get for it? Nothing. Zilch.
GK: What do you want me to do?
SS: Get me Al Gore. I want to talk. (BRIDGE)
GK: She wrote down the name of the hotel where she was staying. And I called up Governor Jesse (The Body) Ventura -----
TR (JESSE, ON PHONE): Hey. Hooya. How you doing there, Guy?
GK: I'm fine, Governor, and yourself----
TR (JESSE, ON PHONE): Just got done shaving my head.
GK: Well, that's a load off your mind. Listen, Governor - I need a big favor ---- you were hanging out with Al Gore last summer ---- do you have a number for him? I've got to get hold of him. It's important.
TR (JESSE, ON PHONE): The Alster? Funny you should mention it. He flew out here today to go ice fishing.
GK: He did?
TR (JESSE, ON PHONE): He loves ice fishing. I offered him the use of my bazooka. I mean, why sit there when you can blow the buggers out of the water? But he said he wanted to just hunker down on the ice.
GK: Where is he?
TR (JESSE, ON PHONE): Out on Lake Suzanne. Want me to send a chopper?
GK: No, thanks. (BRIDGE) I drove out to Lake Suzanne, west of Minneapolis, and found a shop called Louie's Baits. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE) The proprietor said he hadn't seen any black limos around---
TK: Only person I seen was this tall guy who came in and asked if we had any free-range minnows.
GK: That's him.
TK: He's right out there. In the middle. See him? (BRIDGE)
GK: Out in the middle I could see a figure in a snowmobile suit crouched down, fishing through a hole in the ice and reading a book. (OUTDOOR AMBIANCE, WINTER.) I drove out there and got out of my car (DOOR SHUT, FOOTSTEPS IN SNOW) and walked over to him.
GK: Sir? Mr. Vice President?
TR (GORE): Call me Al. Please.
GK: How's the fishing, sir? You getting any bites?
TR (GORE): No, but I continue to be optimistic that if I stay right here and don't move, that eventually the fish will come, just it did for Mrs. Evelyn Huntziger of Elbow Lake.
GK: What's the book, sir?
TR (GORE): It's the 1999 Statistical Abstract of the Bureau of Fisheries and Wildlife.
GK: Interesting.
TR (GORE): Have you read it?
GK: Only lightly. Never really delved into it.
TR (GORE): There's so much in here about caribou. Just reams of information.
GK: I'm sure. Mr. Vice President, there's something I need to tell you----
TR (GORE): It sure is beautiful out here, isn't it? This is the first time I've been alone in the past two years. It's a very special feeling. (HE SINGS) Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam, where the deer and the antelope play...
GK: You like solitude, don't you.
TR (GORE): I really do.
GK: I sort of thought you did. I could see that during the debates. You wanting to be alone.
TR (GORE): All through the campaign, I sort of felt like I was outside myself, watching myself, wondering why I was doing what I was doing. That ever happen to you?
GK: At really bad parties, yes. But don't torture yourself. You won the popular vote. That's as good as most people do. What are you using for bait, sir?
TR (GORE): I'm using organic bacon soaked in a prescription drug called Nembutol----- it numbs the fish so it doesn't feel any pain from the hook.
GK: And how about yourself? You need some medication, sir? Some peppermint schnapps. Helps keep the chill off.
TR (GORE): Don't mind if I do. (TAKES A COUPLE SWIGS) My goodness. Suddenly I feel even more optimistic.
GK: It can have that effect, yes.
TR (GORE): That is tasty. (SWIGS SOME MORE) I wonder if I may have conceded too soon.
GK: That's why I came out to find you, sir.
TR (GORE): Oh? What's going on?
GK: You could still win this thing.
TR (GORE): Is that right?
GK: I don't know if it's right, but the presidential electors from each state meet on Monday, and there is no law binding them to vote for the candidate they're pledged to, and I know six Republican electors who are feeling restless.
TR (GORE): Brief me, Mr. Noir. (BRIDGE)
GK: So I told him about Mrs. Olson, and how the presidency could be his, if he promised her the fish farm. ----
TR (GORE): Well, I'll be darned.
GK: If you want me to call her ---- arrange a meeting --- just let me know.
TR (GORE): So the Dakotas would vote for me and I'd have 273 electoral votes and the Dummy'd have 265.
GK: That's right.
TR (GORE): Not much the Supreme Court could do about that, is there.
GK: That's right.
TR (GORE): They'd pretty much have to rewrite the Constitution.
GK: Yep.
TR (GORE): And that'd take time.
GK: Months.
TR (GORE): Imagine Scalia and Thomas and Rehnquist. Boy, they would be defecating building materials.
GK: I believe you're right.
TR (GORE): Big headlines the next morning. GORE PULLS IT OUT.
GK: That's right.
TR (GORE): All the news anchors sitting there stunned.
GK: Yep.
TR (GORE): And I'd walk out the front door past all those Republicans who've been yelling, "Gore Must Go," and I'd say, "Gore is going. To the White House."
GK: A sweet moment.
TR (GORE): (HE SINGS) Turn the light out. Do not fear. Bring that bottle over here. I'll be your president tonight.
GK: You want me to call her? Arrange a meeting?
TR (GORE): I don't think so. It sure is beautiful out here on the lake, isn't it?
GK: It is.
TR (GORE): Are you a religious man, Mr. Noir?
GK: Sometimes.
TR (GORE): I'm a religious man and you know something? It doesn't go with politics at all.
GK: People can do a lot of good in politics.
TR (GORE): They think they can. But you know ---- the bottom line is: in a democracy, nobody is indispensable. You want people to think you are. That's what a campaign is all about. But in the end, it isn't true.
GK: You don't want to be President?
TR (GORE): I want to learn more about caribou.
GK: About what?
TR (GORE): About caribou.
GK: Caribou.
TR (GORE): I've come to feel such a strong bond with caribou. In the past six months.
GK: The past six months you've been thinking about caribou?
TR (GORE): You're the first person I've told this to.
GK: There was a campaign for president going on.
TR (GORE): Such a graceful animal. To some people, they may seem stiff and ungainly, but not to a fellow caribou.
GK: You mean, while you were giving speeches, you were thinking about ----
TR (GORE): It's a beautiful animal. Did you know that Eskimo hunters call them bou. (BRIDGE. CAR APPROACHING, FAST.)
GK: Suddenly a black Lincoln came wheeling across the ice and stopped (BRAKES, DOOR OPEN), and out stepped Mrs. Olson. (FAST FOOTSTEPS IN SNOW) Mr. Vice President, this is the lady I told you about, Mrs. Olson of Grand Forks----
TR (GORE): Call me Al. Please.
SS: Al, I hope Mr. Noir told you about my idea----
TR (GORE): Yes, he did, ma'am.
SS: It's a pretty straightforward deal. Give us a fish farm and we'll make you president.
TR (GORE): Do you eat fish, Mrs. Olson?
SS: Not much. Not really. Never cared for it.
TR (GORE): I love fish, myself, and when it comes to fish, wild fish taste better.
SS: Most people, I doubt they can tell the difference.
TR (GORE): Well, I can, and I can also tell when it's time for a story to be over.
GK: If you want more time to think about this----
SS: You're saying no?
GK: You can be President----
SS: You're turning this down?
TR (GORE): It's a wonderful offer but I can't do it. It's just not how things work. And besides ---- I like being alone. Being a free-range person.
SS: Well ----- if you change your mind-----
TR (GORE): I won't. But thanks.
SS: So long. Say hi to your wife. (FOOTSTEPS AWAY. CAR DOOR OPEN, CLOSE. CAR PULLS AWAY.)
GK: You're a brave man.
TR (GORE): I've got to deal with this caribou fascination. It might take me a couple years.
GK: What are you doing, sir? What are you putting on your head?
TR (GORE): Do you mind? Does it make you uncomfortable?
GK: I'm just worried that somebody might see. Somebody with a telephoto lens. Snap a picture and your political career'd be over. Michael Dukakis in a tank with a little helmet is nothing compared to Al Gore with antlers on his head.
TR (GORE): I just feel it's something I need to do.
GK: Fine. Fine. Sometimes I just wish that Democrats were more normal, you know what I mean?
TR (GORE): Does this embarrass you?
GK: Do you mind if I don't look? Okay?
TR (GORE): No, I don't mind. (SPLASH)
GK: Looks like you got a bite there, sir. (GORE STANDS UP, FIGHTS TO PULL FISH IN) There you go. Hang on! Play him! Play him! He's a big one! Almost got him! Almost! Easy now! Easy! (FISH FLOPPING)
TR (GORE): Man, he was some fighter!
GK: Sir---- look----- the fish's lips are moving. I believe he's trying to speak to you.
TR (GORE): He is, isn't he----
SS: She. I'm a she.
TR (GORE): Pardon me, ma'am.
SS: I sure hope you believe in catch and release.
TR (GORE): Indeed I do. I was just about to throw you back.
SS: Thanks. And would you mind taking the hook out of my lip? Easy! Easy! (A SLIGHT SQUISH & CRUNCH. SHE SHUDDERS) Oh, that stings. (SHE MOVES LIPS) I've been sent to deliver a message. You won Florida.
TR (GORE): I thought so.
SS: You won it by 1600 votes.
TR (GORE): Huh. I thought I won by more than that. Who did the recount?
SS: God did.
TR (GORE): Well, that's good to know. But he's not going to overturn the Supreme Court, is he?
SS: Not in this life, no. But when each of those five justices goes off to the Pearly Gates, they're going to find out that they have to argue their way into heaven using the due process clause.
TR (GORE): That could be tough.
SS: Anyway, that's the message I was sent to deliver. Could you throw me back in now? (FISH FLOPPING) Thanks. Bye! (SPLASH, AND FISH DIVE)
GK: Well, congratulations on winning Florida.
TR (GORE): Thank you. I was always confident that I would, when all the votes were counted----
GK: You sure you don't want me to negotiate something with Mrs. Olson-----
TR (GORE): Nope. I'm okay with it just the way it is.
GK: Care for another shot of peppermint schnapps?
TR (GORE): No thanks. I'm heading back.
GK: Can I offer you a lift, Mr. Vice President----
TR (GORE): CARIBOU TALK, WITH SNIFFS
GK: Is that caribou you're talking now?
TR (GORE): CARIBOU AFFIRMATIVE, SNIFFS
GK: You sound quite fluent.
TR (GORE): CARIBOU AFFIRMATIVE
GK: Interesting language. What's the grammar like?
TR (GORE): Well, all of the nouns have gender, and there is no past tense in caribou.
GK: No past tense.
TR (GORE): Everything that was is now and ever shall be. According to caribou.
GK: Interesting. Do they have a word for getting schnookered?
TR (GORE): Yes. Literally, it's " now that I have a tiny radio implanted in my ear, I can't remember where we're supposed to migrate in the winter"---
GK: How does it sound in caribou?
TR (GORE): LONG MOURNFUL CARIBOU CALL
(THEME MUSIC)
SS: A dark night in the city that knows how to keep its secrets, but a light shines on the 12th floor of the Acme Building -- Guy Noir, Private Eye. (THEME UP AND OUT)
(c) 2000 by Garrison Keillor