TR (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 June, and I was in Seattle working undercover for the Seattle P.D. I'd flown out on Sierra Airlines, the airline that flies low and the pilot explains what you're seeing ---

FN (ON P.A.): Off to the right you can see the erosion caused by last year's forest fire--- those are mushroom hunters down there ----- and on the left you can see that brownish orange color of that river ---- that's from tailings from copper mining. And the long plume of smoke, that's from the smelter.

GK: And the flight attendants are former fifth-grade teachers.

SS: Sir??

GK: Huh? Oh. Yes. What's wrong, ma'am.

SS: Wake up and pay attention. You might learn something.

GK: Yes, ma'am. Could you bring me a cup of coffee?

SS: Is there a sign on me that says Personal Servant? Is there?

GK: No. (STING, BRIDGE) The Seattle P.D. was having to deal with the legalization of marijuana and they needed me to go undercover and gather intelligence.

TR (IRISH): We're going to have a lot more dreamy people walking around in a stupor and saying profound things about the nature of being and meanwhile ignoring the traffic lights. We know that.

DR: And more homeless people who think they are undiscovered geniuses. More space travellers. No, there's going to be all sorts of problems.

GK: And what happened to the people who used to deal marijuana and the smugglers who brought it in?

TR (IRISH): They're in produce now.

GK: Produce!

DR: They're bringing in fruit and vegetables from South America.

GK: I don't understand.

DR: Seattle is all about local sustainable agriculture now. If you walk around eating a banana ---- people give you harsh looks.

TR (IRISH): A lady was peeling an orange downtown ---- people threw tomatoes at her.

DR: Everything is local now. Sustainable, environmentally safe, economically feasible, socially responsible, and emotionally stable

GK: What about coffee? That's not local.

TR (IRISH): We make an exception for coffee.

GK: And orange juice?

TR (IRISH): Don't get smart with me. ----So what we want you to do is to find the Big Boy who's behind the shipments of bananas and avocados. The Big Enchilada.

GK: What do you want him for?

DR: We think he's dealing in hard drugs. Oxycontin. Codeine cough syrup.

TR (IRISH): We intercepted a truckload of Percocet just last week.

GK: Okay. Where do you want me to go?

DR: Go up to Redmond. But go undercover.

GK: I am undercover.

TR (IRISH): No, you're not. Put away that umbrella. In Seattle, a man with an umbrella is like a dog wearing a fur coat And put on some sunglasses.

GK: But it's cloudy.

DR: Seattleites have sensitive eyes. Like moles. And make sure you carry a Frisbee. (BRIDGE)

GK: So I headed for downtown Redmond, looking for Mr. Big, and I saw a man in a hoodie, his face obscured, standing in a door way-----

FN: Banana banana banana banana banana. Banana banana banana banana banana. Hey. Banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana. You want some bananas?

GK: You selling bananas?

FN: How many you want?

GK: A dozen

FN: Okay. Two bucks.

GK: There. Two bucks.

FN: Okay. You go over to that green pickup over there? You see it? Knock on the window and when she rolls it down, you say Snoqualmie Snohomish Klickitat Tlingit(KLING-kit).

GK: She's got the bananas?

FN: She knows where the bananas are.

GK: How about avocados?

FN: She's got them too. (BRIDGE)

GK: So I walked over to the green pickup (KNOCK KNOCK KNOWN) ---- Snoqualmie Snohomish Klickitat Tlingit.

SS (DEEP): Go to Suquamish, near Issaqua, where three streets cross, Duwamish, Issaqua, and West Ipswich where you'll see a famous loquacious monogamous Amish pianist named Sam Sammamish and his aunt Janice --- you say, Sam, I'm famished, and he'll give you a delicious ham sandwich and a spinach Danish and the address in Spanish where to get the bananas.

GK: Let me get this straight. I go to Suquamish, to the intersection of Duwamish, Issaqua, and West Ipswich, and there's the pianist Sammamish with the ham sandwich and he gives me the address.

SS (DEEP): Yes, and you say, Sam, I'm famished.

GK: Got it. So this Sam? Is he the top guy?

SS (DEEP): I know nothing.

GK: I'm looking for Mr. Big. The Big Enchilada.

SS (DEEP): You a cop?

GK: Do I look like a cop?

SS (DEEP): You look like a guy trying hard NOT to look like a cop. (BRIDGE) It wasn't easy finding Duwamish and Issaqua in Suquamish and the pianist wasn't at the intersection, he was in the front window of the Suquamish Instrument Studio playing a Steinway.

(ELABORATE LIBERACE-VERSION OF AMAZING GRACE) Excuse me, sir, but you don't look Amish to me.

RD (YIDDISH): Boy, have you got the wrong pianist.

GK: You're not Sam Suquamish?

RD (YIDDISH): Schlomo Slonimsky.

GK: What you playing "Amazing Grace" for?

RD (YIDDISH): Amazing Grace. I thought it was "A schverer beitel macht a leicht gemit" ----

GK: So you don't have bananas.

RD (YIDDISH): No, but I got a half a bagel if you're really hungry.

GK: Hey, where would a guy get some Percocet if he needed it?

RD (YIDDISH): You got a headache?


GK: And just then a little plane came in over the trees, low and slow, a plane with no numbers on the wings or fuselage, ---- it had the look of a smuggler. I got in my car (SFX) and I drove fast down gravel roads to the grass landing strip where it was coming in for a landing (SFX) and I drove up alongside it in time to see a tall dark-haired woman get out.

SS (OFF): You the guy here to get the bananas? Sam Suquamish??

GK: I was hoping you had Percocet.

SS: I got a thousand bananas, each banana with Percocet injected in it. It's the new way.

GK: Great. Fantastic. Where's the Big Guy? Did he get here yet?

SS: Over there in that shack.


TR (INSIDE, GODFATHER, HIGH): Yeah. Who is it?

GK: Sam.

TR (INSIDE, GODFATHER, HIGH): Come in. (DOOR OPENS, BIG SQUEAK) Yeah. Hey, you're not Sam. Who are you? But then who am I? Who are we? What's it all about?

GK: You been popping pills, Mr. Big. You're on the wrong meds. That's the problem with dealing in illegal drugs. You start to sample the product and you lose the acuity you need for a life of crime.

TR (GODFATHER HIGH): Close the door, it's too much light. Hurts my eyes.

GK: So where's the goods----- ah, there it is ----- pounds of Percocet. Demerol. Vicodin. Percodan.

TR (GODFATHER, HIGH): I feel that everything that is in you is a part of me and everything that is mine is a part of you.

GK: Okay, okay, okay. Who's helping you bring this stuff in?

TR (GODFATHER, HIGH): We're all part of each other. Everything is connected.

GK: Name some names.

TR (GODFATHER, HIGH): What is a name? A name is only one thing. Each person contains a multitude.

GK: Okay, okay. Put your hands behind your back. (HANDCUFFS)

SS: What about me?

GK: You're coming too, sister. (BRIDGE) I took them in and the guys at the P.D. were gr

DR: So a dog walks into the bar and orders a martini. Bartender says: we don't see many dogs coming in here to drink. The dog says: At these prices, I'm not surprised.

FN (DOPER): Yeah, so anyway, this dog is in a bar and he's sitting there looking out the window and he feels wonderful because he's drinking a Martini but also because he's young and it's June and his girlfriend is on her way over and the door is open and a breeze is blowing in and then this guy walks in the door with a handful of dog turds and he says, Look what I almost stepped in.


TR (ANNC): A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets. But one man is trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions: Guy Noir, Private Eye.