SS (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.
GK: It was November, and someone had put a gray metal lid over the city and freezing rain was coming down, and a salesman in a green plaid sportcoat was trying to sell me lightbulbs.
TR (SLICK): It cures depression. You just turn it on (CLICK, BUZZ), stare at it for ten minutes, and wham-o, depression --gone.
GK: I don't feel a thing.
TR (SLICK): That's the problem. Look at the light.
GK: Some of us thrive on depression.
TR (SLICK): Light deprivation is your problem. I'll knock off 10 bucks for you.
GK: Look, I said no.
TR (SLICK): Look in the mirror, mister. Your face is like a nightlight. I wanna make it a spotlight. A blinding searchlight of joy-30 bucks off.
GK: I don't like bright lights.
TR (SLICK): I'll give you a three-way bulb for three degrees of happiness. Sound good? 40 dollar discount that's my tops--
GK: Just get out of here, go-- (SCUFFLING) And take your lightbulb with you. (DOOR SLAMS, GK SIGH, FOOTSTEPS, SITTING DOWN ON CHAIR) I sat down at my desk, thinking maybe I was wrong. Maybe I do need help. Maybe what I think of as my personality is actually depression. Maybe I wasn't meant to be sitting here in this grim office on a gray day. Maybe I should be striding across a beach with a surfboard on my shoulder, my long sun-bleached hair tied back in a pony tail, my -- (KNOCKING) Go away!
(DOOR OPENS, FOOTSTEPS, PANTING DOG)
TR (SLICK): Mr. Noir?
TR (SLICK): Got a dog I want you to see. (DOG BARK) His name's Nemo.
GK: I see.
TR (SLICK): I want you to get this dog to Barack Obama. This is the perfect dog for him. (DOG PANTS)
GK: I don't think so. Kind of mangy. (DOG FART) Plus the indigestion problem.
TR (SLICK): Nemo is a mix between a Pomerenian, Poodle and a Doberman. A Pomeroodleman.
GK: I'm not even going to ask how that happened.
TR (SLICK): A mixed breed shelter dog. Just what the Obamas are after. Perfect.
GK: I don't think this is what they had in mind.
TR (SLICK): This is a dog with special abilities, Mr. Noir. A dog who can detect lies. (STING, SNIFFING, PANTING) Watch this: I am a vegan (DOG GROWLS). I go to church every day. (DOG GROWLS). Obama is Seventh Day Adventist. (DOG GROWLS) See?
GK: Look, you're wasting my time, -- I don't know what the trick is, but go do it someplace else.
TR (SLICK): Go ahead. Try it yourself. I'll turn my back. Just talk to the dog and he'll tell you if you're lying.
(PANTING, DOG FART)
GK: Mister, come on--
TR (SLICK): If you make the sale--there's twenty grand in it for you. (DOG GROWL) Okay, ten grand. Ten grand. Go ahead.
GK: I feel like a fool.
TR (SLICK): I'm turning my back now. Just look him in the eye and tell him things.
(PANTING, A BEAT, GK SIGH)
GK: I'm a private eye, Nemo, and I'm down on my luck. I could use ten grand. I could use anything at this point. (PANTING) Because my career in motion pictures is going nowhere. Today Steven Spielberg called me up (DOG GROWL) and told me that though my screenplay was brilliant (DOG GROWL), it was way above the heads of the American people (DOG GROWL) -- and so here I am. An old washed-up lumbering galoot with no chances left. None. A burnt-out case. -- Why isn't he growling?
TR (SLICK): You believe me now, don't you? Now that you've seen for yourself... (DOOR OPENS, FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)
SS (DORIS): Guy? Are you in here?
GK: You ever try knocking, Doris? You have knuckles?--
SS (DORIS): Guy-listen, if I have to tell you one more time-- it's the middle of November.
GK: I just mailed the check this morning, Doris-- (DOG GROWLS)
SS (DORIS): Yeah yeah. Tell me another one.
GK: I think I mailed that check. (DOG GROWLS) But it was early. Six-thirty. Foggy out. (DOG GROWLS) Maybe I forgot to mail it. (DOG GROWLS) Anyway, I'm going to.
SS (DORIS): And no pets in here, Guy. (SS SNEEZE) I'm allergic. Now get your check in, or you're outta here. (FOOTSTEPS OFF, DOOR SLAM).
TR (SLICK): You see? He knows when you're lying. A useful dog for a president to have. People come in the Oval Office and tell you what they think you want to hear -- the war's gonna be a cakewalk, you're doing a heckuva job, Mission Accomplished, and so on -- the dog is there to guard against all of that.
GK: Well, it's a nice idea, but -- I don't know anybody who knows Barack Obama.
TR (SLICK): Just call him up. Call him up and say hey mister. Boy do I have the dog for you...
(DOOR OPENS, HEELS ENTER)
SS (SUGAR): Guy? Hello?
SS (SUGAR): Guy, I'm tired of waiting. I have to know right now.
GK: Know what?
SS (SUGAR): You know what. So I'm just gonna ask you one last time. Do you want to get back together with me or not? Cause I've got an other potential boyfriend on the line and (DOG GROWL) I have to know-- whose dog is that?
TR (SLICK): My dog. For now.
GK: Sugar, can we talk about this later?
SS (SUGAR): Oh, later-later Guy, everything is always later with you. Well I'm out of laters. I need to get on with my life.
GK: Of course you do, but--
SS (SUGAR): It's a simple question, Guy. Do you love me? Or not?
GK: It's complicated, Sugar--(DOG GROWL)
SS (SUGAR): You know, if you've got to think about this so hard--
GK: I've got all sorts of feeling for you, Sugar. Okay, pooch--
SS (SUGAR): So do you love me? Or no?
(A LONG BEAT)
GK: What I feel for you is deeper than love, Sugar.
SS (SUGAR): Deeper than love?
GK: What I feel is reverence. Adoration. (DOG GROWLS LOUDER)
SS (SUGAR): Oh Guy.
(DOG GROWL, CONT'D)
GK: Shut up.
SS (SUGAR): Shut up?
GK: Not you, the dog-
SS (SUGAR): Oh Guy I forgive you for all the crummy things you've done. (DOG GROWLS). I forgive you and as of now, I've forgotten everything, too. (GROWL)
GK: Be quiet!
SS (SUGAR): Be quiet?
GK: Not you, the dog.
SS (SUGAR): Oh, I'm so happy you adore me Guy-and that's deeper than love! Mwah, I love you Guy, love you!!! Call me, okay?
GK: I will. (DOG GROWLS)
(FOOTSTEPS OFF, DOOR CLOSES, A BEAT)
GK: This dog could cause a lot of problems.
TR (SLICK): He simply reacts to the energy he feels around him-
GK: I don't think this is a good dog for the Obamas, okay.
TR (SLICK): The truth will set you free, Mr. Noir.
GK: I've heard that said, sir.
TR (SLICK): The truth has certainly has set me free. (DOG GROWLS) -- What are you growling for, you idiot? Shut up.
GK: You wouldn't happen to know anybody who sells Cheer-Up Light Bulbs, would you?
TR (SLICK): Yeah. I bought some from a guy in the elevator.
GK: Gimme a couple.
TR (SLICK): Forty bucks a piece.
GK: How much you pay for them-
TR (SLICK): Forty bucks. (BARKS) Almost forty bucks. (BARKS)
SS (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.