(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, reading a trashy novel in which a wealthy young model is attracted to a flabby older man in a wrinkled suit. (SS REVERB: Something about you thrills me ---- makes me want to comb your hair over your bald spot. Want to use spot-remover on your jacket and replace your tie and give you a mouthwash that really works.) It wasn't a particularly well-written novel but somehow the dialogue seemed so real. (SS REVERB: I adore everything about you. Your immense eyebrows like badgers. The empty hamburger cartons in your apartment. The way you breathe through your mouth excites me.) I was just getting to the part where she invites him to join her on her yacht in the Caribbean, when (KNOCKS ON DOOR)---- Yeah, come on in, the door's unlocked. (DOOR OPEN, SLOW FOOTSTEPS)
SS (OLD LADY): Mr. Noir?
GK: Yes, ma'am.
SS (OLD LADY): Your name is Jepson?
GK: No, it's Noir.
SS (OLD LADY): That's what I said the first time.
GK: What can I do for you, ma'am?
SS (OLD LADY): Aluminum. What does that have to do with anything?
GK: I didn't say anything---
SS (OLD LADY): I sure didn't come to see you about aluminum.
GK: Okay. Sorry I mentioned it.
SS (OLD LADY): That's a crazy idea. Why would I come all the way up from Florida to see you about---
GK: Okay. Forget that I said it. What can I do for you?
SS (OLD LADY): I was just about to tell you.
GK: Good. Please do.
SS (OLD LADY): You're a private detective, right?
GK: Right.
SS (OLD LADY): I need you to find something for me.
GK: Okay.
SS (OLD LADY): I'm from Florida. Just flew up on Wednesday. Came to see my brother. He lives up here. I keep telling him he oughta move to Florida but for some reason he stays. I don't get it. I sure couldn't stand the winters here. Shoveling snow. You can have it. January, February, I'm gardening in Palm Beach. Going around in shorts and a T-shirt.
GK: Ma'am?
SS (OLD LADY): What?
GK: You wanted me to find something for you.
SS (OLD LADY): Right. Right. Wednesday, I get on the plane in West Palm Beach and fly to Minnesota and I took the wrong bag. Isn't that something?
GK: Uh huh.
SS (OLD LADY): It looked like my suitcase but it wasn't.
GK: I see.
SS (OLD LADY): It was a ballot box.
GK: A ballot box.
SS (OLD LADY): I'm an election judge there in Palm Beach.
GK: Okay.
SS (OLD LADY): We were counting votes Tuesday night and it was late and I decided to go home and freshen up and I guess I accidentally picked up one of the ballot boxes.
GK: I see.
SS (OLD LADY): I was going to drop it off on my way to the airport --- and somehow I forgot.
GK: So you brought the ballot box up here.
SS (OLD LADY): I did.
GK: And where is it now?
SS (OLD LADY): That's where you come in, Mr. Noir.
GK: You've lost the ballot box?
SS (OLD LADY): I've looked all over for it.
GK: How many ballots are in it?
SS (OLD LADY): I don't know. Five or six thousand. It was pretty heavy. Lots of seniors came out to vote, you know. Yes, sir. Pretty riled up about Social Security.
GK: So this ballot box is at your brother's house----
SS (OLD LADY): Left it at the foot of the stairs. (FADING) Went to the biffy and came back and---- (BRIDGE)
GK: So I went over to talk to her brother.
TR (GEEZER): Ballot box! Mercy sakes. What in the world is Evelyn doing with a ballot box?
GK: Apparently she just wandered off with it.
TR (GEEZER): She's been doing a lot of that lately. What does it look like??
GK: Black box. With a handle. Looks like a suitcase except it has a slot in the top.
TR (GEEZER): Oh, yeah. I remember seeing that. Well, let me ask Tony. (OFF) Tony??? (BRIDGE)
GK: His grandson Tony was a punk with hair that stuck straight up and rings in his eyebrows. He was in his room, playing a video game. (VIDEO GAME SFX)
TK (TEEN): Oh yeah. Right. The black box. I took it to the gig to put my guitar amp on. I was there with my band, the Rockin Raccoons. I musta forgot it there or something. Wow. Cool move. (VIDEO SFX) Die, you gink! (VIDEO GUNFIRE) (BRIDGE)
GK: I drove to the club where the Rockin Raccoons played, a dive called The Landing Strip. It was pitch-black inside, as dark as the inside of a cow's stomach with her eyes shut and her tail down. (MATCH STRIKE) I lit a match and there was a waitress mopping the beer off the floor. (MOPPING)
SS (CIGARETTE IN MOUTH): Go away. We don't open til nine-thirty.
GK: I'm looking for a black suitcase somebody left here last night, a guy in the band.
SS: The drummer?
GK: Tony.
SS: Right. Yeah, I give it to the bass player to give to him.
GK: What's his name? The bass player.
SS: Rocco.
GK: Where's he live?
SS: Lives at his girlfriend's house. Like every other bass player. (MOPPING) (BRIDGE)
GK: The bass player's girlfriend lived in a stucco duplex with the drapes pulled and (OUTDOOR CITY AMBIANCE, FOOTSTEPS) I was just walking up the sidewalk when my cell phone rang (CELL PHONE RING)---- (CLICK) Yeah? Noir here.
TR (BUSH, ON PHONE): Mr. Guy Noir? The private detective?
GK: Governor Bush.
TR (BUSH): That's right, buddy. Listen, I understand some crazy woman is going around up there talking about some suitcase or something from West Palm Beach or someplace and I'm sending the governor of Florida up there to get this person back on her medications and bring her and the suitcase back home and I just want you to know I'm counting on your help, okay? Countin on it big time.
GK: Listen, Governor, I'm kinda busy at the moment, how about we talk a little later ---- (CLICK) (DOOR CREAKS OPEN)
TR (HUNGOVER): Yeah. Whatcha want?
GK: You Rocco?
TR (HUNGOVER): Yeah, but don't talk so loud, okay? I got a real bad headache. I feel like I got a lag bolt in my forehead.
GK: Rocco, I came to get Tony's suitcase that you got at the gig last night.
TR (HUNGOVER): Uhhh ---- I gave that to Chantelle to take over to him.
GK: Chantelle?
TR (HUNGOVER): The singer.
GK: Okay. And where might I find her?
TR (HUNGOVER): At her parents' house. Listen, I gotta go lie down. (BRIDGE)
GK: Chantelle didn't have the suitcase either.
SS (VALLEY): I mean, like, he gives me this suitcase, and I'm going like, Huh? And he's going, Just take it to Tony. Like I'm UPS or something. So weird. And I'm going like, Who cares? And there's like nothing inside it except all these like pieces of paper. I mean, hello?
GK: Chantelle, those like pieces of paper could determine who will be the next president of the United States.
SS (VALLEY): Right. So anyway, I've got the suitcase in my backseat and I'm like going to the mall like on my way to Tony's and I run into this old boyfriend, Rick, who's homeless ----
GK: A homeless guy.
SS (VALLEY): Yeah. Ever since I broke up with him.
GK: Oh. Sure. So he's got this suitcase---- (CELL PHONE RING) Excuse me. (CLICK) Yeah, Noir here.
TR (BUSH): You know something, Mr. Noir? I'm looking at the list of appointments I'm going to need to make in the next few weeks and I don't have anybody in mind for Assistant Director of the FBI and then suddenly I thought about you. You're an investigator, right?
GK: Let me think about it, Governor. Talk to you later. (BRIDGE) I drove all around town looking for Rick, the homeless guy, looked for him in hobo camps and shelters and around the freightyard and turned on the radio for the weather report and there was Al Gore----
TR (GORE): This is your vice-president speaking. It has come to my attention that an elderly Florida person in a pink or puce jogging suit and a baseball-type hat with "Keep On Truckin" written on it has wandered off in confusion carrying a black suitcase. I have long been concerned about each and every one of our seniors and so I want to make this appeal---(CLICK)
GK: Poor Evelyn. Everybody was looking for her. If I didn't find those ballots, she was going to be in deep doo-doo, as President Bush used to say. And then I spotted Rick, the homeless guy, he was walking along looking for a southbound freight train and carrying a black suitcase with a slot in it. (DISTANT TRAIN WHISTLE, TRAIN)
TK (GROWLY GUY): You're not a cop, are you?
GK: No, sir. The name is Noir. Listen, today is your lucky day, my man. That suitcase, I'm offering a reward for it. Five hundred bucks.
TK (GROWLY GUY): How about a thousand?
GK: A thousand. You got it.
TK: In cash.
GK: How about I just give you my credit card? (APPROACHING TRAIN) Brand new. Never been used. Has a credit line of three thousand.
TK: Okay. Here. (RUNNING FOOTSTEPS) Thanks! (RUNNING, AS TRAIN PASSES, TRAIN AWAY)
GK: I opened the suitcase and there was nothing. Underwear. A picture of Chantelle. Copy of Jack Kerouac. Hey! (DISTANT TRAIN WHISTLE) And then I saw the ballots. A big pile of them. He'd dumped them on the shoulder of the freeway. (RUNNING STEPS, PANTING) I ran down the slope and I was almost there when a semi came barreling past (SEMI PASSING FAST) and the ballots rose in the air like a flock of birds (FLUTTERING) and three more semis came along (THREE SEMIS, FAST) and I was snatching ballots out of the air as fast as I could and stuffing them down my shirt ---- (RUSTLING PAPERS, FOOTSTEPS DODGING AND DARTING) I was grabbing them by the fistfuls, grabbing them off the ground, off the pavement (HORN PASSING, BRAKES), cars swerving to avoid me (TIRES SQUEAL, HONKS), ballots flying, and me leaping around (TRAFFIC PASSING, FAST), grabbing them, collecting them out of the ditch, out of the nearby field, I even found one in the mouth of a mangy dog. (GROWL) Give, boy. Give. (GROWL) I got a nice porterhouse steak in my back pocket, pooch. Set it down, it's yours. (WHINE). Good dog. (DOG PANTING) I hate to lie to a dog but this is a political year, pooch. What I meant to say is that I'm going to do my best to see that you get a porterhouse steak at some point in the future. (GROWL) And thanks for your vote. (BRIDGE) I got every ballot that I could see and then I turned and there were four highway patrolmen, guns drawn, and a man in a blue suit.
TR: Hello, Mr. Noir.
GK: Your face sure is familiar.
TR: I'm the governor of the state of Florida.
GK: Good to meet you. And your posse.
TR: I believe you are in possession of of property of the state of Florida, sir.
GK: I was merely picking up roadside trash, Governor. ----
TR: Hand it over, Mr. Noir.
GK: I was feeling vulnerable like an oyster on the half-shell, and then ----(CELL PHONE RING) Darn. Excuse me. (CLICK) Yeah?
TR (BUSH): How we doing on locating that crazy person and her suitcase, Mr. Noir?
GK: Would you care to speak to your brother, sir?
TR (JESSE): Hold it right there just a cotton-pickin minute.
GK: I turned and was almost blinded by the sun reflecting off the shaved head of the governor of Minnesota, Jesse (The Body) Ventura, in his fringe jacket, mirror shades, and black leather pants and pink cowboy boots, standing by the road next to the Guvmobile.
TR (JESSE): Got one word of advice for you, Governor. And that's, Don't mess with Jesse. You're walking down my street now. You tell your boys to put those pea-shooters back in their pockets and turn around and walk back to the car. Otherwise, I'll have to show you my rhino hold. And it ain't going to be pretty.
GK: The gentlemen from Florida stood trembling like a load of orange Jell-O on a bumpy road. And they turned and went to their car and (CAR ACCEL, SQUEAL OF TIRES) headed south.
TR (JESSE): Hey. What's all the paper under your shirt for?
GK: Insulation.
TR (JESSE): Oh right.
GK: Gonna be a cold winter, Governor.
TR (JESSE): That's what I hear. You need a ride or anything?
GK: Naw. My car's just down the road. (BRIDGE)
GK: (FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL, SOME TRAFFIC PASSING) I walked back to my car and I thought about the responsibility I had. The whole 2000 presidential election riding in my shirt. They'd spent hundreds of millions of dollars on advertising and consultants and focus groups and it all came down to a few thousand ballots. About a shirtful. (BRIDGE) I got in my car and headed for the Five Spot. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE) (FOOTSTEPS)
TR (JIMMY): Hey there, Guy, how's it going?
GK: Not so bad, Jimmy. Not so bad.
TR (JIMMY): What can I get for you?
GK: A glass of ginger ale, Jimmy. This is a time for clear thinking.
TR (JIMMY): One glass of sobriety coming up. (POURING) You keeping up with the news? About the election?
GK: Yeah. A little.
TR (JIMMY): Wonder if it's going to wind up in the courts.
GK: Hope not, Jimmy. I hope not. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, CLOSE. FOOTSTEPS) Hi, Evelyn.
SS (OLD LADY): You find what I was looking for, Mr. Noir?
GK: Right here in this shopping bag.
SS (OLD LADY): Is that all of em?
GK: I think so.
SS (OLD LADY): Looks about right.
GK: You heading back to Florida today, Evelyn?
SS (OLD LADY): On my way to the airport right now. St. Paul Beach.
GK: Palm Beach.
SS (OLD LADY): That's what I said.
GK: Okay. You need a ride to the airport?
SS (OLD LADY): My brother's going to drive me. I think he is---
GK: You think he is?
SS (OLD LADY): Or is he going to the chiropractor today?
GK: What time is your flight?
SS (OLD LADY): I don't know. Eight thirty or so.
GK: It's getting on toward that time.
SS (OLD LADY): Bartender?
TR (JIMMY): Yes, ma'am.
SS (OLD LADY): You know how to fix a Florida Flamethrower?
TR (JIMMY): That's with gin and jalapeno pepper juice and ----
SS (OLD LADY): And rum and creme de cacao.
TR (JIMMY): Okay. Coming right up.
GK: Are you sure you should be tossing back drinks at a time like this? You're an election judge, Evelyn.
SS (OLD LADY): Sonny, if you can't cut loose when you're 78, then when can you? Make that a double!!! I don't know how you people put up with winter. The snow shoveling. In Florida, we have a ball. A ball!
(THEME MUSIC)
TR: 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