(GK: Garrison Keillor; SS: Sue Scott; TR: Tim Russell; FN: Fred Newman)
(GUY NOIR THEME)
TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the 12th 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 November and Minnesota was starting to get grim. The sky fell and it was like we were in somebody's basement and people started to come out of the underbrush who you usually don't see in bright light. (KNOCKS ON DOOR) ---- Yeah, come in, the door's unlocked. (DOOR OPEN, CLOSE) Yeah, what can I do for you, kid?
TR (TEEN): I'm like looking for the skin doctor.
GK: Well, good luck.
TR (TEEN): Are you like a doctor or something?
GK: I'm a private eye.
TR (TEEN): You're like an eye doctor?
GK: I might be like some eye doctors but not likely.
TR (TEEN): Isn't this like the Acne Building?
GK: Acme Building. Acme. Whole other disease.
TR (TEEN): Oh. Okay. Later, dude. (MUSIC)
GK: It was one idiot after another. (RING) (PICK UP) Yeah, Noir here.
FN (ON PHONE): I need a pumpkin pie.
GK: Good luck.
FN (ON PHONE): Don't you sell pies?
GK: No, I don't.
FN (ON PHONE): This isn't Guy Noir Pies?
GK: No, it's Guy Noir, P.I. Private investigator. I'm a detective.
FN (ON PHONE): Well, how about you track down a pumpkin pie for me?
GK: I don't do that.
FN (ON PHONE): How about pecan?
(SFX: GUY SLAMS DOWN THE PHONE)
GK: So I go for a walk to get away from the phone and I walk out
the front of the Acme Building and (PIT BULL SNARL) and this dog lunges
at me---- Hey----
TR: What's your problem?
GK: Your dog lunged at me---(DOG SNARL)
TR: He's never bitten anybody. (DOG SNARL AND RIP) Nobody except
you. You're the first, pal. (MUSIC)
GK: My left pant leg had a rip down it and he tore my newspaper half apart and--- there, on one shredded page, I saw a personals ad that said:
SS (REVERB): "Me: 34, beautiful, successful professional Chicago
woman, feminist with playful side, height-weight sensational. You: older
man, romantic, single, driver's license and have own hair. No Sierra Clubbers
or Dylan fans. Taste for gin a big plus. Private eye experience, a definite
turn-on. Call me. 312----(BRIDGE)
GK: It was a Chicago number. A cellphone. (PHONE RING, ON LINE. PICK UP)
SS (ON PHONE): Hi, Mr. Noir.
GK: Hello---- do I know you?
SS (ON PHONE): Caller I.D. How soon can you meet me at the coffee shop across Michigan Avenue from the Art Institute of Chicago, Mr. Noir? (BRIDGE)
GK: I was on the next plane to Chicago (JET TAKE-OFF) and 45 minutes later I climbed into a cab at O'Hare (SCREECH OF TIRES) and the following afternoon we arrived downtown and there she was, waiting for me.----- (TRAFFIC AMBIENCE. HORNS. ELEVATED TRAIN PASSES) Ma'am----- I apologize for being so late. Traffic was slow on the expressway so the driver took another route. Across Lake Michigan on the ferry and through Indiana.
SS: I'm glad you came, Mr. Noir. I need your help.
GK: I like to be needed, Miss-----
SS: Swanson. Scarlett Swanson. (BRIDGE)
GK: We went across the street to a coffee shop.
TR: Yeah? What can I getcha?
SS: Cappuccino. Extra shot, and goat's milk whipped to a fine froth, and sprinkled with Prozac.
TR: And you?
GK: What's a Jamocca?
TR: Jamocca? It's a Chicago thing. Cuppa java and you stick a chocolate-covered donut in it. You want that?
GK: Gimme that. (ESPRESSO MACHINE ROUTINE) She slid into the booth next to me. She was a woman who knew how to slide. Her jeans were so tight, she looked like she'd been poured into them and forgot to say "when." I could even read the embroidery on her underwear. It said, "Friday." She wore a Chicago Bulls T-shirt and suddenly their logo looked like a Picasso. Not his Cubist period, but the one after that. ---- I've got to tell you, Miss Swanson. Your advertisement sure made me realize how much I miss living with a woman. Miss finding all those little doo-dads in the bathroom and the medicine cabinet full of eye shadow and mascara.
SS: Well, I miss going to pee at night and sitting down on cold porcelain.
GK: I miss the all the cat hair and the stuffed animals in the bed.
SS: Mr. Noir? I don't usually say this on the first date, but I'd like to live with you and be your love and all the pleasures prove that this brief summer yields, but first, I need you to do me a favor.
GK: What's that?
SS: I need you to return this to the Art Institute of Chicago. ----
GK: This painting---- this----- (STING) (PAUSE TWO BEATS)
SS: It's "American Gothic" by Grant Wood.
GK: And you took it---- ?
SS: I did.
GK: You removed it from the museum?
SS: Yes.
GK: Are you crazy? Next to the Mona Lisa and Whistler's Mother, this is the most identifiable painting there is.
SS: I just felt that people weren't appreciating it enough and I felt that if it were missing for awhile, maybe they'd realize what a nice painting it is.
GK: You must have a thousand FBI agents on your trail.
SS: I don't think so. You see--- I'm an art student, Mr. Noir. I go to the museum every week and paint. Oils----
GK: You didn't----
SS: I did.
GK: You painted a copy of American Gothic?
SS: Except I had the woman holding the pitchfork. And the guy is a little better looking.
GK: And nobody notices?
SS: People actually stop and look at it now. They're fascinated by it. There's a big crowd around it every day.
GK: And now you want me to return the original----
SS: If you want to live with me and be my love---- yes.
GK: You drive a hard bargain, Miss Swanson. (BRIDGE) I fixed up a pair of shoes with rubber suction cups on them, and rubber suction gloves, and I cased the museum and met one of the security men----
FN (DOPER): Man---- this is primo reefer, dude. You givin me this whole kilo? Why?
GK: And I came up with a plan to hide in a janitor's closet and after closing climb the walls and make my way across the ceiling and switch the paintings and get out----- and then I looked at myself in the mirror and I thought, huh uh. You're no cat burglar, you're more like a bull burglar. So I went to a YMCA that had a rock-climbing wall and I got myself an accomplice---- (STING)
(NIGHT AMBIENCE)
GK: You all set to go, Kevin?
TR (TEEN): Yeah, I'm like looking for the painting that like looks like this, right?
GK: Right----
TR (TEEN): And then I like switch em, right?
GK: Yes. And don't ever let your feet touch the floor, okay?
TR (TEEN): No problem.
GK: And when you come back here, I'll have that red Pontiac LeSabre all ready for you, kid.
TR (TEEN): Kewl. Awesome. Can't wait. (SUCTION CUPS POPPING AND SUCKING, AS HE WALKS UP WALL) (BRIDGE)
GK: He headed for the American wing and I sat there in the janitor's closet and called up Scarlett who was outside in the car. ---- Hi, babes.
SS (ON PHONE): How's it going?
GK: No problem. We're almost there.
SS (ON PHONE): I can't thank you enough for doing this, Guy.
GK: Oh, I think you'll be able to find ways to thank me enough.
SS (ON PHONE): This is going to be such a load off my conscience.
GK: Well, good. I'll find other loads to put on your conscience, so we shouldn't exceed the limit, I guess.
SS (ON PHONE): I can't wait. (BRIDGE)
GK: It took two hours for Kevin to get into the American Wing and back (SUCTION CUPS, SUCKING AND POPPING, COMING TOWARD US) and when he got back, he was kind of dizzy from hanging upside down.
TR (TEEN): Ohhhhh. I don't feel good.
GK: Did you get the painting?
TR (TEEN): Yeah--- right here---- (UNWRAPPING)
GK: Great. Listen--- you lie here and rest and I'm going to take the painting to the car and then I'll be back and I'll show you where the red LeSabre is.
TR (TEEN): You're like lying to me, aren't you, Mr. Noir?
GK: I am, yes.
TR (TEEN): I thought so.
GK: It's good training, Kevin, to be lied to by grownups. That's why we do it. So you can learn.
TR (TEEN): If I weren't so darned dizzy, I'd probably get mad at you.
GK: Well, you can always be angry tomorrow. (BRIDGE) I scooted (FOOTSTEPS) out the employee's entrance past the security guard ----
FN (HIGH): Oh man. This is good stuff.
GK: Good.
FN (HIGH): I am so stoned, man, I could swear you are carrying a painting. Out of sight.
GK: I will be in just a moment. Nighty night. (DOOR CLOSE, TRAFFIC AMBIENCE) I looked for Scarlett's car and didn't see it (FOOTSTEPS) and walked up Michigan Avenue and then I saw her sitting in her car. (FOOTSTEPS. DOOR OPEN) Ahhhhh. Everything went like clockwork, angel, and now it's you and me, sugar----
SS (LOW WAITRESS): Why you smooth talker you.
GK: Who are you?
SS (LOW WAITRESS): Call me "angel" again---- I like that-----
GK: Where'd Scarlett go?
SS (LOW WAITRESS): Who? My daughter? The painter?
GK: She's your daughter?
SS (LOW WAITRESS): She had a date. But I don't----- I'm free. The name is Beatrice. Come on. I'll buy ya a cuppa coffee.
GK: It's too late for coffee. I want to go to bed.
SS (LOW WAITRESS): Hey, now you're talking! (MUSIC)
GK: We wound up at the coffee shop. (CAPPUCCINO MACHINE)
TR: Yeah--- what can I get ya?
GK: Gimme a cup of that Jamocca.
TR: Okay. Coming right up. (CAPPUCCINO MACHINE OPERATION)
SS (LOW WAITRESS): Ya don't look like you're from Chicago---- ya know how I can tell? Huh? Ya look like ya use a hair conditioner or something.
GK: I'm from St. Paul.
SS (LOW WAITRESS): St. Paul! I always dreamed of living in St. Paul!
GK: I don't think you'd be happy there.
TR: You want the large, the extra large, the humongous, or the Oh My God?
GK: Give me an Oh My God, I guess. ------ Her face was like a map of a place where nobody goes for a vacation. She raised the cigarette to her lips and ----
SS (LOW WAITRESS): If you're looking for a postfeminist, you found one. You are such a love puppy---
GK: I don't know what you're talking about.
SS: I think you do.
GK: In a sense I do and in another sense I don't.
SS: Go with the first one. (THEME)
TR: A dark night in the city that keeps its secrets, where one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions --- Guy Noir, Private Eye.
(MUSIC OUT)
© Garrison Keillor 2002