(THEME)
Tim Russell: 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 UNDER)
Garrison Keillor: It was spring on the frozen tundra, and the long night of winter at an end, which meant I could finally see what a rathole my office was, so I called Leo the building manager to ask him to paint. My lease expired five years ago, so I was pushing it a little bit, but if you don't ask, you don't get.
TR: I can do it the first week of June but I only got three colors. Beige, mauve, and puce.
GK: Beige, mauve, and puce.
TR: That's it.
GK: How about white?
TR: Got beige, mauve, and puce. Take your pick.
GK: What is mauve?
TR: Sort of a magenta.
GK: Puce?
TR: Sort of purplish. Like prunes.
GK: People are going to think I'm running a hair salon. I better go with the beige.
TR: Beige is very popular with insurance agents.
GK: Oh thanks.
TR: Wildlife art goes well with beige. Paintings of ducks taking off.
GK: Oh. I didn't know that. (KNOCKS) Yeah, come in the door's unlocked. (DOOR OPEN, CLOSE, FOOTSTEPS)
Sue Scott: Mr. Noir? I'm Julie. (STING)
GK: She was tall and blonde, with eyelashes like the legs of a tarantula. She wore a white velour jumpsuit that fit her body like a surgical glove.
TR: So you want beige?
SS: Excuse me?
GK: I'm trying to decide between beige, mauve and puce. To paint the walls.
SS: Puce. It's more calming.
GK: Okay. Puce it is. (FOOTSTEPS AWAY) (CLOSE DOOR) So-- what can I do for you, ma'am?
SS: Down at the club, they said you're a private eye.
GK: That's right. Have a seat. What club you talking about?
SS: The MS/DOS Club.
GK: I've heard of that. The Club where men like to see women dance and take off their clothes and also talk about software.
SS: I'm a dancer there.
GK: A stripper?
SS: I wear a web.
GK: I see. I notice your wedding ring, Julie. Your husband doesn't object to you working at the MS/DOS club?
SS: Alan hasn't noticed me in years, Mr. Noir. I could wear an exploding bikini and play the piccolo and he wouldn't notice. Alan is married to his plants.
GK: Your husband gardens?
SS: He's a plant geneticist. He's working on a top-secret project involving lilacs.
GK: I see.
SS: I went to work at MS/DOS hoping Alan would walk in the door and see me dancing on the bar in my web but he never did, and now I just do it for the money.
GK: Uh huh.
SS: Computer nerds are so grateful if a woman pays attention to them. Some nights the tips come to five or six thousand dollars.
GK: Amazing.
SS: A man from Google came in and I crawled into his lap and he did a search of my web -- It took him less than ten seconds. And he gave me a thousand shares.
GK: Very generous. What's your husband doing with lilacs?
SS: There's a chemical in lilac aroma that has a powerful drug-like effect on people. It makes them contented.
GK: I see.
SS: People breathe lilacs and suddenly they're happy to work for 15 cents an hour and live in the back seats of cars.
GK: A lot of cars are pretty spacious these days. Some of those vans--- I've lived in apartments smaller than that.
SS: I'm just afraid there's more going on than I know about. I'd like you to find out what he's up to.
GK: Okay. I'll look into it. (STING) Alan worked at a secret laboratory but it wasn't that hard to find. I just drove around with the windows down and followed the smell of lilacs to a greenhouse by the freightyards, where there was a big palooka in a rent-a-cop suit.
TR (RICO): Yeah, what you want?
GK: Want to talk to Alan.
TR (RICO): What about?
GK: Lilacs.
TR (RICO): What about em?
GK: It's a secret. I can't tell you.
TR (RICO): Okay, give me the password and you can go in.
GK: Alan didn't give me the password.
TR (RICO): It's not that hard.
GK: Give me a clue.
TR (RICO): It's easy.
GK: I still need a clue.
TR (RICO): It's very easy. It's three numbers.
GK: Three numbers.
TR (RICO): It's as easy as pi.
GK: Oh. Pi. Three-point-one-four.
TR (RICO): You got it. (BRIDGE)
GK: The greenhouse was enormous. It was like a jungle in there. Big fruit bats went flying around (SFX) and bees buzzed (BUZZING) and an orangutan sat in a tree. (SFX) He was sniffing a lilac and he looked happy.
Tom Keith: Excuse me?
GK: Oh. Hello--
TK You must be Mr. Huffman. From the fork factory. I was expecting you.
GK: Yes, indeed. And you must be Alan.
TK Good to meet you. You look sort of different from your picture.
GK: Well, I feel different. New look. For spring. You know.
TK In your picture you're bald.
GK: Well, I got this little piece. Anyway-- how are we going on the, uh, project?
TK Well, you told me you needed an especially strong lilac because you need to cut wages to the bone and boost productivity.
GK: Yes, indeed. Got to compete against those other fork makers. Can't slough off. I want to lower the wage to ten cents an hour and cut out the lunch break and also time and a half for overtime. Can't afford that any more.
TK So -- I think I have what you need --this big purple bouquet over here-
GK: What, this one here? The one with all the giant bumblebees crawling all over it? (BLISSED OUT BUZZING) The bees look intoxicated.
TK: I can have 145 bushes to you by Monday. Just say the word.
SS (DEEP, CHILL, CLOSE): Hold on, just one moment. (CHILLING STING)
GK: She was an older woman in a starched navy blue dress and a white pinafore. And she held a .45 in her right hand.
TK Frau Weber--
SS (DEEP): We need to be more careful about security, Alan.
TK He's from the Happy Folks Fork Factory.
SS (DEEP): He's a private eye, Alan. And his name is Noir. (STING)
GK: Last time I met you, Frau Weber, your name was Quinn. Frances X. Quinn. And you were selling Amish quilts that actually were Lutheran.
SS (DEEP): Good memory. Too bad you won't be using it much longer.
GK: What's that supposed to mean?
SS (DEEP): You stuck your nose in where you shouldn't have stuck your nose in, Mr. Noir. And now I'm going to have to blow it off.
GK: Hey, you want to bring contentment to the work force, be my guest. I've got nothing against lilacs.
SS (DEEP): This is about more than lilacs, Mr. Noir.
GK: Oh? (STING) And then I saw the ivy vines in back. They were enormous. (LOW BASS RUMBLES) They swayed back and forth and they seemed to be focused on me. (HISSING) Their leaves looked like mouths, opening and closing. (STING). And then I saw something even scarier, halfway hidden in the vines.
TR (CHENEY): Think you discovered something, don't you, Noir? Well you didn't. Repeat after me.
GK: Mr. Vice President!
TR (CHENEY): Nothing to see here. Everything is fine. Keep it moving.
SS (DEEP): I see you've discovered our carnivorous ivy, Mr. Noir. A crucial weapon in national security.
TR (CHENEY): As I'm sure you are aware, nobody wants to join the armed services anymore, Mr. Noir. I didn't and neither do they. So we're developing vegetables to do the work for us. We call them defense plants.
GK: Defense plants. Good idea. But plants are stationary. Kind of sitting ducks, aren't they?
SS (DEEP): You think so, do you? Prepare to be surprised, private eye. (CLAP CLAP, PLANT PERKS UP) Get him, Ivy. Get him!
(HISSING, FAST RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)
GK: I took off for the door and the plant was right behind me (SS SHOUTS) and I went barreling right through the door (BURST OF GLASS, RUNNING FEET, DOG BARKING IN PURSUIT) and now I also had a dog on my tail who was trying to bite the cuffs of my trousers -- I was running through a garden down a long row of bushes and then I saw the purple blossoms and I grabbed them as I ran (SERIES OF SNATCHES) and then I stopped (BRAKES) and I held them out at the dog (WOOF THAT SEGUES INTO DEEPENING MOURNFUL SATISFIED GROAN) and he went limp. And I waved them in front of the plant (HISSING to HUMMING, DAZED) The power of lilacs. I felt pretty proud of myself until a moment later-- I started to feel the effects too. Hey-- it's okay. It's all good. Be happy. Why worry? (FOOTSTEPS APPROACH).
SS (DEEP): I see you've discovered our new strain of lilacs, Mr. Noir. Notice they have no effect on me because I've been inoculated.
TR (CHENEY): Too bad you took a wrong turn, Noir. Life is like that. And now we're going to have to terminate you, Mr. Noir. You're a weed in our national garden and it's time to pull you up.
GK: Fine. That's okay. Why worry? I'm okay.
TR (CHENEY): This is a top-secret project. The president has been sniffing these lilacs for the past six years and it's how we're able to keep him on message.
GK: I understand. I believe you. That's great.
(CAR SQUEALS UP, DOOR OPENS, CLOSES, FOOTSTEPS)
SS: Mr. Noir! Is that you?!
GK: Julie? (PLANT HISSING)
SS: I followed you, Mr. Noir. I couldn't stand the suspense-
TK: Wow. Look. An attractive woman--
SS: I'm your wife, Alan. Remember? Every morning at breakfast for the past 17 years? The one with the coffee pot?
TK: Julie! What are you wearing?!?!
SS: Oh Alan. You noticed!
TK: A string bikini made out of-is that a mouse?
SS: Click and drag, baby.
TK: For gosh sakes! Gee willikers!
GK: Am I mistaken or is that ivy moving toward you, Mr. Vice-President?
TR (CHENEY): What? Where? Oh my gosh. (A SERIES OF SHOTGUN BLASTS) Got it. (KLAXON HORN, THEN SPRINKLER)
GK: The alarm went off in the greenhouse and then the sprinkler system started and the water pouring down neutralized the lilac scent and suddenly I felt ornery again. I grabbed for the shotgun and the vice-president backed up and started firing into the air --- (TR CHENEY: Back away, mister. Don't touch me. Step away. SHOTGUN BLASTS) And he kept shooting at the greenhouse roof. And it started to fall. (SHOTGUN BLAST) (SLOW CREAKING SOUND OF BUILDING FALLING) Run, Julie! Alan!
TK: This way!!!! (RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, CREAKING GRINDING RUMBLING CRASHING) (CHASE BRIDGE)
GK: And the five of us dashed out of the greenhouse just as the whole thing went down (CRASHING AND BREAKAGE, DOG BARKING) and then the propane heaters exploded (SERIES OF FOUR EXPLOSIONS) and by the time the fire department arrived (SIRENS OFF) the whole laboratory was a mass of molten glass and steel (FIRE) and the Vice-President and Frau Weber had taken off in a black Lincoln with the dog. (CAR PULLS AWAY, BARKING RECEDES)
TK: I feel like an idiot. Here I was engrossed in genetics and I forgot you were around. And my gosh-- you're a woman. A real woman!
SS: I've learned some interesting dance moves, Alan.
TK: How did I ever come to marry you?
SS: You got lucky. It happens.
GK: Well, I'll be saying so long now.
SS: Thanks, Mr. Noir. ---Come home, Alan. (BRIDGE)
GK: I went back to the office and Leo hadn't started painting yet.
TR: Didn't have puce, Mr. Noir. I used all the puce for the aromatherapy people on the fourth floor. How about off-white?
GK: You got off-white?
TR: I found some off-white in the storeroom.
GK: How far off white is it?
TR: It's brown.
GK: That's kind of far away from white, isn't it?
TR: That's why they call it off-white.
GK: I don't think I'm ready for brown, Leo.
TR: Okay, cause if you don't want it, then the coffee shop wants it.
GK: Fine. I'll just stick with off-gray.
TR: Okay. I left a new lease for you to sign.
GK: Oh.
TR: The rent is going up and you're not allowed to have a dog.
GK: Never wanted to have a dog.
TR: Well, now it's not allowed.
GK: Okay. Whatever. How about girls? Am I allowed to have four or five dancing girls up here pouring champagne in their hair and peeling me grapes?
TR: Hey. Go for it. Live while you can, that's my motto. You sure you don't want puce?
GK: No, thanks.
(THEME)
SS: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets. But high 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.