(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 FADE)
GK: It was September, beautiful weather, and I guess I sort of lost my mind because I did something I'd never done before. I took in a stray. (MEOW) How she made it up to the 12th floor I got no idea but she came down the hall straight to my door and scratched and in she came. (MEOW) -You lonely? Huh? Welcome to the club. (MEOW) Got some leftover moo shoo pork from lunch. (MEOW) Here. Help yourself. (MEOW, CAT EATING. CAT BELCH)
SS: Hi, Guy. (STING)
GK: Amber! You scared me.
SS: I didn't think guys like you ever got scared, Guy.
GK: Guys like me were born scared, Amber.
SS: So did you read my screenplay?
GK: I looked at it, yeah.
SS: Couldn't finish it, huh?
GK: I read through most of it.
SS: So what'd you think?
GK: I thought it was okay.
SS: "Okay"----
GK: It was interesting.
SS: What does that mean?
GK: It had a lot of life to it. Lots going on. Action. Excitement.
SS: What was wrong with it?
GK: What do you mean?
SS: What didn't you like? Tell me.
GK: Well---- I donno. Some of the dialogue was kind of frilly.
SS: Frilly----
GK: Sort of girlish.
SS: What's that supposed to mean?
GK: Sort of wordy. Too much hoopdedoo.
SS: Words are not hoopdedoo. Words are what people use when they speak.
GK: I realize that, but-----
SS: I knew I shouldn't have shown it to you.
GK: Sweetheart----
SS: I put my heart and soul into that screenplay. And you call it "wordy" ---- girlish. I tell you, nuance is wasted on you. Only one thing you understand.
GK: What's that, sweetheart?
SS: A poke in the (SHE WINDS UP, SWINGS) snoot. (BAM, GK OOFFF) (BRIDGE)
SS: For starters, you can take a look at this .38 snubnose revolver in my left hand. (STING)
GK: I came to and my cat was curled up against me. (CAT MEOW) She was a very sweet cat. (HARSH MEOW) Sorry. He was a very sweet cat. Sorry about that. Should've checked. Didn't want to invade your space.
(FOOTSTEPS)
FN: Hello?
GK: Hello. Come in. What can I do for you?
FN: I'm trying to find out, Who am I?
GK: Pardon me?
FN: Who am I?
GK: What is this, a game of Charades?
FN: Help me. Please. Who am I? I don't know.
GK: You're a middle-aged guy in a green plaid shirt and shorts and you're going to the wrong barber. What else you want to know?
FN: Who are you?
GK: Well, now we're getting someplace. Guy Noir. Private Eye. This is my office.
FN: Can you find out who I am and how I got here? (BRIDGE)
GK: It was a challenge. No billfold, no car keys, and his mom had forgotten to label his clothes. I found some caramel corn kernels in his shirt pocket and small change and a newspaper clipping about the Minnesota Twins with a record of 66 wins, 94 losses and how it's not the worst in the majors. Minnesota sportswriters are a very positive bunch. Not the worst: that's all we expect. And a slip from a fortune cookie: Keep on believing. Not much to go on.
FN: What happened? How did I get here? Where am I?
GK: St. Paul, sir.
FN: Saint who?
GK: Paul. The one who wrote the epistles. Ephesians, Galatians, Hebrews, Romans.
FN: Is that near Minneapolis?
GK: Minneapolis....Minneapolis.....the name is familiar. It's around here someplace.
FN: Why am I here?
GK: What is this? Catechism? Why am I here? Why is he here? (MEOW) (PAUSE)
FN: Mitzy?
GK: Who you talking to? (MEOW) The cat? He doesn't know you.
FN: Mitzy?
GK: Hands off my cat, mister. Otherwise you can go find yourself somewhere else. You get me? (MEOW) --- You know this guy? (MEOW) I didn't think so. (MEOW) I couldn't agree more.
TR (IRISH): Noir! What you doing talking to a cat? Mercy sakes.
GK: Lieutenant McCafferty? What you doing up here?
TR (IRISH): Following this guy. Jaysus. Have you gone bonkers, Noir? Do I have to take you to the funny farm then?
GK: I'm fine. ---- Who is this guy?
TR (IRISH): That's the $64 q uestion. I followed him up here from down by the river. I think he may be a moderate Republican.
GK: A moderate Republican?? I thought they had all been run out of town.
TR (IRISH): There are a few little pockets of them up in Dellwood.
GK: Is that right?
TR (IRISH): They stick together and travel under cover of darkness and they use pseudonyms.
GK: Sir?
FN: Yes?
GK: Do you believe that reasonable people can sit down at the same table and be civil to each other though they disagree and come to some sort of compromise?
FN: (WEEPY) Oh my gosh. What a beautiful idea.
TR (IRISH): We had a Missing Persons bulletin on a fellow by the name of Leonard Lindquist.
GK: The name is familiar.
TR (IRISH): He was middle-of-the-road sort of guy. A Midwesterner. Lived midway between Minneapolis and St. Paul. A man of moderation. Got along with everybody. Anyways, his boat was found down at the ferry landing. Big motorboat.
GK: What'd he do for a living?
TR (IRISH): He was a mediator. He brought two sides together and got them to make peace.
GK: Mr. Lindquist? You own a boat?
FN: Who you talking to? Me?
GK: I'm trying to.
FN: Is my name Lindquist?
TR (IRISH): That's what we'd like to find out, sir. (BRIDGE)
GK: We hiked down to the river and there under the Wabasha bridge was a handsome river launch, the Dwight D. (BOAT PASSING, HORN) Maybe he bumped his head when he got off.
TR (IRISH): Maybe I'll have to call in the fingerprint guys.
GK: That's gonna take awhile, meantime what do we do with him? (FOOTSTEPS)
SS (SEXY): Lenny? Where were you, Lenny? (BRIDGE)
GK: A young woman in leotards came up from below. She wore a captain's hat and a blouse with a neckline so low that a man just didn't even dare look down there for fear he'd disappear.
TR (IRISH): You know this gentleman, ma'am?
SS (SEXY): Yes. He's with me.
TR (IRISH): And this is your boat?
SS (SEXY): Indeed. We're on our way to New Orleans and then out to the Caribbean to spend the winter.
GK: And his name is Leonard Lindquist?
SS (SEXY): I just know him as Lenny.
TR (IRISH): What's your last name?
SS (SEXY): I don't have one. I don't believe in last names. I'm a people person, not a name person.
TR (IRISH): You have a driver's license?
SS (SEXY): I don't drive.
TR (IRISH): How about a credit card?
SS (SEXY): Don't need one. Lenny takes care of all that.
GK: Mr. Lindquist?
FN: You talking to me?
GK: I am.
FN: So you know who I am?
GK: I don't know who you were but I have an idea who you're going to be.
FN: And what is that?
GK: A very happy man.
FN: Good. I hope so.
SS (SEXY): How about I go below and open up a Chardonnay and make you a plate of olives and couscous. Would you like that?
GK: I think he would.
TR (IRISH): And is he able to navigate, ma'am, seeing as he's in a confused condition?
SS (SEXY): He's no more confused than other Republicans you read about. Excuse me.
(FOOTSTEPS)
TR (IRISH): I say we cast off the line----
GK: I think you're right. (UNLASHING ROPE. PUSH BOAT. HORN)
TR (IRISH): Good luck! My, my, my ----- you got yourself quite a shiner, Mr. Noir. What happened? Who poked you in the snoot?
GK: I ventured into the field of criticism, Lieutenant. Not my field. I learned my lesson.
(THEME)
TR (ANNC): 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 trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions: Guy Noir, Private Eye.
(THEME OUT)