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.


GK: It was November, the week before Thanksgiving, and the weather had turned cold and it was going to stay that way. Some people walked around in light jackets, romantics, dreamers, imagining that there might be a little more Indian summer left, but that wasn't going to be. And neither were a lot of other things.

SS: Mr. Noir? My name is Debbie and for years my friends have been telling me that I have real talent as an economist. Now-- I know that it takes a lot of hard work and I know I am 45 and I never finished college, but I just feel like I have this economist inside me trying to get out--

GK: You're not thinking of home economist--

SS: No, I'm thinking about the kind who give speeches and explain things like credit default swaps.

GK: Okay. (BRIDGE) Dreamers. They come to the 12th floor of the Acme Building because they know I'm a fact-finder. They want a reality check. But you give them one and they hate you for it.

TR: My name is B. Randolph Witcomb, Mr. Noir. I am the president of the Duluth Booth Works.

GK: I see.

TR: We are the world's largest manufacturer of telephone booths.

GK: Yes, sir.

TR: Production has been down over the past ten years or so and we're bringing in a new management team.

GK: Sir--

TR: We need a totally new management model. We need to modernize our marketing strategy.

GK: It's all over, sir.

TR: We need to think out of the box.

GK: it's over, sir.

TR: What's over?
GK: The telephone booth.

TR: I just don't--

GK: The pay phone is as dead as a dodo.

TR: That's not what my consultants are telling me--

GK: You could make your phone booths into coffins. There will always be a need for coffins.

TR: You are such a defeatist.

GK: A coffin with a folding glass door. Why not?

TR: Your cynicism is like poison. What a black cloud you ae. How can you look yourself in the mirror in the morning, Mr. Noir?

GK: Very carefully With one eye open. (BRIDGE) One after the other they come through the door, people with a glimmer of hope in their eyes.

SS: It's an engine that runs on water. You put the water right in there and the catalytic converter takes the hydrogen out and burns that. See?

GK: Does it work?

SS: It almost works.
GK: Can you start it?

SS: I don't know. (STARTER, THEN GASP) It needs more research.

GK: I think you're right. (STING)

TR: It's a sure thing. Reversible flotation security options. RFSO's. They go up when the market goes down. It's the biggest secret on Wall Street. Absolutely safe. While everybody else is crying in their beer, you can earn 140 -- 150% profit in just 24 hours. How about it? Put in twenty grand today -- Monday morning you got thirty grand. Sound good?

GK: Sounds good. But I don't have twenty grand.

TR: Too bad. How about I lend it to you?

GK: I don't think so. (STING) (FOOTSTEPS)

TK (TEEN): Here's your liverwurst sandwich, Mr. Noir.

GK: Oh hi, Wendell.

TK (TEEN): Liverwurst with sliced dill pickle. That's four dollars and fifteen cents.

GK: I don't think I ordered liverwurst, Wendell. I thought I ordered the pastrami. On pumpernickel.

TK (TEEN): We're out of pastrami. And pumpernickel. So I gave you liverwurst in a pita bread. With the dill pickle.

GK: You didn't have corned beef either?

TK (TEEN): No, We're out.

GK: How about the chicken soup?

TK (TEEN): Out of chicken so I brought you artichoke instead.

GK: Artichoke soup?

TK (TEEN): Yeah. With chunks of chuck roast in it. A lot of people like it.

GK: Like who?

TK (TEEN): Shut-ins. We take it to shut-ins. They like it okay.

GK: Well, it's a new one for me but I'll give it a try.

TK (TEEN): That's the spirit, Mr. Noir. Sometimes you don't get what you want and you have to make the best of what you have.

GK: That's good that a younger person like yourself understands that, Wendell.
TK (TEEN): Actually, I'm thirty-eight, Mr. Noir. I sat in a sauna a few years ago and it affected my hormones and put me into re-adolescence.

GK: Oh right. I forgot. What about the cream soda, Wendell? You out of that?

TK (TEEN): Oh, I thought you meant cream-filled cupcakes.

GK: No, I was looking forward to a cream soda.

TK (TEEN): Want me to go back and get you one?

GK: No. Cream-filled cupcakes are fine. It's okay. I'll make do.

TR: A dark night in the city that keeps its secrets, where one guy is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions'Guy Noir, Private Eye.