(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 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: I was in my office, cleaning out some old files. (JUNK DUMPED IN CAN, BOTTLES, GLASS, CANS) Divesting myself of boxes of evidence from old cases. A case of Leinenkugels, a case of Old Crow. (ANOTHER LOAD OF BOTTLES, CANS.) Hmmmmmm. Interesting. A package of exploding tapioca, you attach a fuse and it can demolish a dump truck. (SQUISH, AS IT'S TOSSED OUT). A bottle of invisible ink. (BOTTLE IS TOSSED) A copy of the Utne Reader, the organic swimsuit issue. (MAGAZINE IS TOSSED) BRIDGE) I was feeling a little under the weather because I'd just gotten a flu shot that morning from my doctor. (FLASHBACK CHORDS)

TR (RUSSIAN): Flu shot? You want flu shot?

GK: Please.

TR (RUSSIAN): I look. One minute. (RUMMAGING THROUGH SMALL GLASS BOTTLES) (MUMBLING TO HIMSELF IN RUSSIAN)

GK: The drawback with Dr. Ouspenskaya is that he seems to have learned medicine from reading Chekhov. But on the plus side, there's no waiting.

TR (RUSSIAN): Here. Flu shot. (JINGLE OF METAL INSTRUMENTS) I get needle.

GK: You mind using a new syringe---- (TR RUSSIGN GRUMBLING) one still in the wrapper? Thanks. ---- I think I'm supposed to take my jacket off before you do that, aren't I---- (POP) Aiyiyi.

TR (RUSSIAN): It is not bacteria we fear but loneliness. And the emptiness of the soul.

GK: Okay, whatever you say. (BRIDGE) As it turned out, the vaccine he gave me was for stomach flu. So when Ricky came in from Danny's DeLuxe Deli with a sandwich, it was a bad moment-----

TK (TEEN): Danny sent you this complimentary Dagwood as our way of saying we appreciate your patronage, Mr. Noir.

GK: Thanks, Ricky. Could you take it away, please? The mayonnaise oozing out, and what is that brown stuff?

TK (TEEN): It's chicken liver.

GK: Ricky, don't unwrap it, please. I'm not well. (BRIDGE) Winter's on its way. It's cold, cloudy, and you feel like you're going on a long trip, driving the porcelain bus. It's not a good feeling. (KNOCKS ON DOOR) Yeah. Come in. The door's unlocked. (DOOR OPEN) What can I do for you, sir?

TR (RICH GUY): (TWO BEATS) I don't know.

GK: Sir?

TR: I got off the elevator and now I forget. It completely slipped my mind.

GK: Amnesia, huh? There's been a lot of that going around. Maybe if you get back on the elevator and go down and come back up, it'll come to you.

TR: Okay. Let me try that. (DOOR CLOSE) (BRIDGE)

GK: I tossed out some old Wall Street Journals. (RUSTLE OF PAPERS) A brand new 1998 calendar. (MORE PAPERS) And what is this? (UKE STRUM) A ukelele. My gosh. Haven't seen this in years. (STRUMS A FEW CHORDS)

I'm going back to my little grass shack In Minneapolis, Minnesota. Boo boo ba doop---

(DOOR OPEN, FOOTSTEPS)

GK: Yes, sir?

TR: Rode down in the elevator, came back up, can't remember a thing.

GK: You ever have amnesia, before?

TR: I don't recall.

GK: So far as you remember, you remember everything?

TR: I think so.

GK: Maybe you need to go back home and retrace your steps.

TR: Retrace my steps.

GK: Go back home, get into your jammies, go back to bed, go to sleep, then wake up and get out of bed, and it'll come to you.

TR: You think so?

GK: It works for me every time.

TR: Okay. Thanks.(FOOTSTEPS, DOOR CLOSE) (BRIDGE)

GK: A lot of this stuff is stuff I saved thinking that when I had more time to go through it, I'd find it ----- interesting ----- a book on the cultural infrastructure of the non-profit sector (THUNK OF BOOK LANDING IN CAN) This Family Almanac of Facts About Chiropractic. (THUNK) And this. Ian Frazier's book, Great Plains. With forty photographs of Nebraska and a Scratch 'n Sniff section. (KNOCKS ON DOOR) Come in. (DOOR OPEN) I don't think you went all the way home and went to bed----- Oh. Sorry, ma'am.

SS: Mr. Noir? May I come in?

GK: My pleasure. (SEXY SAX) She walked in, nice and slow. She was tall and elegant in a way that made Christie Brinkley look like a reference librarian. She gave off a warmth that could have defrosted your refrigerator and she was wearing a blouse so tight you could keep close track of her respiration. Her dark hair was swept back as if she were driving fast with the top down. She held out her hand. I could feel my brain thinking about having a hemmorhage.

SS: I'm so glad to meet you, Mr. Noir.

GK: Have a seat, Miss----

SS: Dromeda. Anne Dromeda.

GK: Let me just clear this off for you. (BIG RUMMAGE, JUNK DUMPED IN CAN, GLASS BREAKAGE) There. Have a seat and tell me what I can do for you, Miss Dromeda, and don't leave out a single detail.

SS: I'll come right to the point, Mr. Noir. A few weeks ago, I met the most wonderful man------

GK: Really.

SS: He's smart, he's handsome and sexy, he's funny, he's rich and athletic and talented and a great cook, we have similar tastes----

GK: He wears low-cut blouses and high heels?

SS: He shares my intellectual interests, we're like soulmates. You see, Mr. Noir, I grew up the daughter of wealthy and negligent parents. I ate cocktail olives by the fistful and I suffered pimento poisoning, a nutritional disorder that makes a person say witty disparaging things. I wasted my youth making cutting remarks and laughing bitterly. Chad was the first one to understand.

GK: Guys can be deceptive, Miss Dromeda. They nod but that doesn't mean they understand.

SS: There's only one problem.

GK: What's that?

SS: He hasn't called me in over a week.

GK: Well, obviously he's lost interest. He got cold feet.

SS: I'm sure he loves me.

GK: He's probably found someone else. Someone dull. Someone who doesn't make him feel insecure. How old is he?

SS: Thirty-four.

GK: Well, there's your problem. Immaturity.

SS: We had such wonderful times together.

GK: You need to move on. Find someone else. Find closure.

SS: He told me he loves me.

GK: Someone who'll treasure you.

SS: I know he meant it.

GK: Somebody desperate. An older man. Someone who knows what an empty night is. Someone who's seen the dark side.

SS: I need you to find him, Mr. Noir.

GK: What does he look like?

SS: Tall, dark, young, athletic, handsome.

GK: I know the type. I know the type. Okay, I'll start in the morning. (KNOCKS ON DOOR) Come in. (DOOR OPENS)

TR (RICH): Ann! What are you doing here?

SS: Chad! Darling----

TR: Oh Ann! I'm the luckiest man in the world.

SS: What are you doing in your pajamas, darling?

TR: I had a bout of amnesia, darling. It's that old eating disorder of mine. Whenever I ingest olive oil that's ---- experienced ----- I forget everything. But finally I recovered---- and here you are----

SS: Marry me!

TR: Let's.

SS: Today.

TR: I'll phone my office. They'll arrange everything. Come! My limo is waiting! (THEY ALL TROOP OUT. CLOSE DOOR)

GK: Didn't even have time to write up my bill. (WALKS TO WINDOW, RAISES BLINDS) Some limo. Nice. You gotta feed four parking meters, but I guess he can afford it. It's sad. A beautiful woman walks away from you, a woman you know if you could just talk to her for a couple hours she'd see a side of you that wasn't apparent at first glance, a sensitive caring side, she's gone and you look up at the sky and it looks like snow. I thought of calling the doctor but I knew what he'd say.

TR (RUSSIAN, REVERB): Happy people are all the same but unhappy people are unhappy each in their own way. To be an individual, to be human, is to suffer. Here. Here's a pill. Take it. It'll help you to weep.

GK: So I kept on cleaning out my office. But I got engrossed in Great Plains. Big black and white photographs of grassland and wheatfields. You scratch em and you can smell cattle. It was interesting. Before I knew it, it was bedtime.

(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