(GUY NOIR THEME)
Prudence Johnson: He's smooth, he's cool, he's quick with a gun
A master in the boudoir
A man in a trenchcoat who gets the job done
That's Guy, Guy Noir


Tim Russell: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions -- Guy Noir, private eye.


(THEME UP AND OUT)


Garrison Keillor: It was late September, cold and rainy, the sort of day when the change of weather makes your knee hurt, but you had no plans to go anywhere, so it doesn't matter. I was in the office, listening to my messages. (BEEP)


Fred Newman (ON PHONE): Mr. Noir, it's Danny down at the deli. Listen. We're all out of the Swiss you ordered with the ham on rye -- but I tell ya, we got the low-fat cheese which, in your case, you know? I mean--think about it. (BEEP)


Sue Scot: Ya, it's Myrt down here at the salon. Got you down for a haircut at 2 but if 2:30 is better, no problem -- or if you want to stick with 2, that's fine. Whatever. Three o'clock is good too. Or three-thirty. That works. Okay, see ya. Bye now.


GK: Knowing that your haircutter has a lot of extra time on her hands is not reassuring to a guy, but what can you do-- (BEEP)


TR (ON PHONE): Mr. Noir? It's Clinton Nimrod out in Montana. I am running for office here and I need your help and I need it right away -- I'm willing to pay a thousand dollars a-- (BEEP) (BRIDGE, HURRY MUSIC)


GK: At the mention of a thousand dollars I was out of the office and on my way to Montana, and on the way, I called up a pal in Missoula and got the lowdown ---


FN (ON PHONE): Nimrod? He's running for State Dam Inspector.


GK: Dam Inspector.


FN (ON PHONE): D-a-m dam.


GK: Gotcha.


FN (ON PHONE): It's a big deal out here. Water is something we get sort of territorial about. The race for Dam Inspector is neck and neck between Clinton Nimrod and Florence Lolo.


GK: Who's she?


FN (ON PHONE): His ex-wife.


GK: Oh oh.


FN (ON PHONE): It ain't pretty, I'll say that. (BRIDGE)


GK: I got out to Missoula and Mr. Nimrod met me at the airport. (PROP PLANE GOES OVER LOW)


TR: Thanks for coming, Mr. Noir. My car is right over here. (FOOTSTEPS)


GK: That your car?


TR: Right.


GK: The yellow Volvo with the "I Brake for Creative Non-Fiction" bumper sticker.


TR: Hop in.


GK: You think that's a good car to be driving if you're running for State Dam Inspector?


TR: Why not?


GK: Why not a pickup truck with a gun rack and an NRA sticker?


TR: It's just not me, Mr. Noir. Pickup trucks jounce around and they spill your latte.


GK: Maybe you should think about switching to beer.


TR: Beer gives me gas. I do like a good Pinot Grigio now and then though. (BRIDGE)


GK: We drove into Missoula and on the way I heard one of his opponent's campaign commercials on the radio.


SS (ON RADIO): Who is Clinton Nimrod? Ask me. I was married to him for twenty years and had to clean up after him. Clinton Nimrod is a shifty-eyed weasel with dog breath and droopy pants who has been lying his way through the world for fifty years and it's time for voters to give him a time out. Vote for Florence Lolo, State Dam Inspector. The best dam inspector you'll ever find.


FN (ANNC): Paid for by the Lolo for Montana Campaign Committee.


GK: Kind of negative, isn't she?


TR: It's gonna get a lot more negative from here on, believe me.


GK: Oh? Like what?


TR: She has pictures of me from our marriage that I believe she is planning to run in her TV ads.


GK: What sort of pictures?


TR: You know. Intimate pictures.


GK: Like what?


TR: She has a picture of me naked with a fig leaf and I'm playing a flute and I have daisies in my hair. And face paint.


GK: Could be a problem.


TR: She also has a picture of me having dinner with the president of the Jackson Hole Homeowners Association.


GK: I see---


TR: Jackson Hole is trying to get more water from Montana so they can keep their lawns green and their swimming pools fresh.


GK: And Montanans don't want that--


TR: It's an issue.


GK: Well, so you had dinner with him-- so what?


TR: The dinner was at St. Andrew's in Scotland. We'd gone over to play golf. He flew me there on his company's jet.


GK: I don't think that Montanans are going to punish you for going on a trip with a friend. What else does she have?


TR: Nothing.
GK: You're sure?


TR: Positive.


GK: You didn't belong to a madrigal group or play the recorder?


TR: Nope.


GK: You never participated in Morris dancing.


TR: No, sir.


GK: You never wore aviator glasses or had big sideburns? (BRIDGE) He denied that there was anything else and then, driving through town, I heard another commercial.


SS: (ON RADIO) Who is Clinton Nimrod? Let me tell you. I was married to him for twenty years and I could smell him in the dark. He went trout fishing for years in the Bighorn River, but instead of fishing, he laid around in a fishing shack and read Marcel Proust's Remembrance of Things Past, because the water was too cold. He lay around until the trout he had bought at the grocery store had thawed out and he put them on a stringer and took them home. And microwaved them. This is Florence Lolo. I'll be the best Dam inspector you ever saw.


FN (ANNC): Paid for by the Lolo for Montana Campaign Committee.


(BRIDGE)


GK: As I drove through Missoula I could see people taking their Elect Nimrod lawn signs down and I took the picture of Mr. Nimrod in the fig leaf playing the flute and I showed it to people in town, looking for a clue. I showed it to a lady sitting at the bar in the Hotsy Totsy Club -- (FRED SAX)


SS (SUGAR VOICE): What's this? Oh my my. Competition.


GK: You dance here in the club?


SS (SUGAR): They call me Miss Oo-la-la. Get it?


GK: I get it.


SS (SUGAR): Been shaking my tootsie here for two years. Me and the balloons.


GK: You dance with balloons?


SS (SUGAR): Balloons or bananas.


GK: Interesting.


SS (SUGAR): Want to see?


GK: No, thanks. But can the bimbo voice, sister. That's not you. Who are you?


SS: Okay.


GK: You're a fiction writer, aren't you?


SS: I'm Sheila Louise Stephanopoulos. I'm in the Creative Writing Program.


GK: I thought so.


SS: I'm writing a novel about a dancer and I'm doing research.


GK: Well, good luck.


SS: Thanks. (BRIDGE)


GK: She told me to go visit the old hippie commune where the picture had been taken. The Rainbow Ranch, up above town. All of the old hippies had left but the geodesic dome was still there, and some wind socks, and some Frisbees and then I looked up on the roof of the dome and an old man lay up there, smoking. -- Sir? May I talk with you?


TR (STONED): Far-out. Clouds. They're way out there.


GK: My name is Guy Noir, I'm here to ask about somebody you may know.


TR (SINGING, DYLANESQUE):
Somebody you may know
And who is it now, Mr. War
And where did they go
And what were they here for?


GK: His name is Clinton. Clinton Nimrod.


TR: Who?


GK: The man I want to ask you about.


TR: Who sent you?


GK: Nobody.


TR: (SINGS) Nobody did and nobody will,
Down below the woods are still,
And the electric poetic Kama Sutra princess
Just went over that hill.


GK: Did you know Clinton Nimrod? Here's a picture of him.


TR: Hey, this is Cloud Walker.


GK: The guy in the picture with the flute?


TR: It's Cloud Walker. He and I were brothers.


GK: Okay. Well, I'll say hi from you. (BRIDGE) He showed me the entire archives of Rainbow Ranch, all the photographs, the communal journals, the poems, the lentil recipes, and I collected a few things involving Mr. Nimrod, or Cloud Walker, that I didn't think needed to see the light of day, and I went off in search of Florence Lolo and found her in Missoula, sitting in Rocky's Cafe. (FOOTSTEPS, SOME CAFE TALK) She was a stocky woman who looked good in jeans and a flannel shirt and a gunbelt and a feedcap, and she was just looking over her latest poll.


SS: Ha! Seventy-two percent would vote for me tomorrow. Twenty-two percent think my husband deserves another chance. Six percent don't know what day of the week it is or who is president.


GK: Looks like you got it sewed up, Aurora.


SS: What you call me?


GK: It's been awhile, hasn't it.


SS: The name is Florence.


GK: You used to be Aurora. I have a poem that you wrote in 1974.


SS: Oh boy.


GK: emerald sunshine glistens in the dewy morning glory of the mountain Krishna consciousness of living singing loving all the children of the sunrise as we gather in a circle holding hands and looking upward to the--..


SS: Okay, okay. I was on heavy drugs at the time, okay. You ever do marijuana and cocaine and Extra Strength Sudafed?


GK: Miss Lolo. You're fifty percentage points ahead, why not just leave it there? Why add insult to injury? Have mercy. Don't pile on.


SS: So you want I should not run the new commercial?


GK: Which is that?


SS: The one in which I point out that until last August he was officially a resident of Phoenix, Arizona?


GK: Forgiveness is good for your soul, ma'am. It enlarges it. Anger is only a roadblock.


SS: You sound like a Rainbow Person.


GK: Good luck as State Dam Inspector.


SS: Thanks. First thing I'm going to do is clean up the Clark Fork River and get the dam out of Missoula and let the river run free again.


GK: Sounds like a plan.


SS: I'm trying to get Clinton interested in kayaking. I can imagine him coming through Hell's gate in a kayak and I'm there with a pitchfork.


GK: Easy now, easy. (BRIDGE)


TR: Thanks for talking her out of the Phoenix commercial, Mr. Noir. You think I still stand a chance?


GK: You're still down by fifty points. Five weeks until Election Day, Mr. Nimrod. Anything can happen. The moon could stand still, the mountains could tumble into the sea. You never know.
(THEME)


SS: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but one man is still looking for the answers to life's persistent questions----Guy Noir, Private Eye.

(THEME OUT)