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.


GK: It was June, and I was in my office, looking at old Viewmaster pictures of Yellowstone and Glacier Park, two more places where I won't be taking a vacation this year due to a lack of cash flow. But when I'm broke, I just get out the old ViewMaster, the stereo viewer with the circular disc of pictures, and try to imagine.

FN: Hey, Guy, what you doing?

GK: What are you doing sneaking in here, Al?

FN: Is that a ViewMaster?

GK: It's a high-powered laser binoculars that can see through girls' clothing, Al.

FN: You're looking at a wall.

GK: It sees through walls too.

FN: Looks like a regular old Viewmaster to me. Anyway---- I got a call for you in my office. (BRIDGE)

GK: Al is my neighbor on the 12th floor of the Acme Building. Insurance guy. My phone got disconnected for non-payment so my calls are coming through him now. ---- Yeah. Noir here.

TR (HOFFA): Hello? Who's this?

GK: Guy Noir. You called me.

TR (HOFFA): Maybe I did maybe I didn't.

GK: Who is this?

TR (HOFFA): Don't laugh when I tell you.

GK: Okay.

TR (HOFFA): And don't say, "Oh no you're not." Cause I am, okay?

GK: Okay.

TR (HOFFA): I spend half my time trying to convince people that I am who I am.

GK: And that would be who?

TR (HOFFA): If you say, "Oh no, you're not," I'm gonna come over there and rip your arm off and beat you over the head with it.

GK: You're Jimmy Hoffa, aren't you.

TR (HOFFA): How'd you know?

GK: It sounds like you, that's why. It's been a long time.

TR (HOFFA): Nineteen seventy-five.

GK: I thought the mob knocked you off and buried you in a field near Detroit.

TR (HOFFA): I don't knock off that easy. And they didn't bury me deep enough. I got out.

GK: Where are you?

TR (HOFFA): Chicago.

GK: What you doing in Chicago?

TR (HOFFA): Selling hot dogs.

GK: C'mon-----

TR (HOFFA): Selling hot dogs on Michigan Avenue. Got a big wagon, umbrella, cold sodas, ice cream sandwiches, hot dogs. It's a good deal.

GK: Why'd you disappear?

TR (HOFFA): Got tired of it. The FBI, the cops, the feds, the animosity. I got tired of animosity. The conflict. I don't like conflict.

GK: You were a Teamsters guy, you were all about conflict.

TR (HOFFA): I hit a wall.

GK: So what can I do for you, Mr. Hoffa?

TR (HOFFA): Come on down to Chicago and I'll tell you. (STING, BRIDGE)

GK: So, I flew down to Chicago on Circle of Life Airlines, where they seat you in circles instead of rows, so that every seat is a middle seat.


SS: Thank you for choosing Circle of Life. My name is Zephyr, and I will be facilitating your journey today. As we prepare for take-off, I'd like you all to close your eyes and visualize the plane rising off the ground on the force of our collective will and over the trees and up high in the air. Visualization is a very important element in aviation. (DING)

FN: This is Paisley and I'm your pilot. Our route to Chicago today will take us over Omaha, Oklahoma City, Orlando, Toronto, and Ontario, and if necessary we may need to fly over San Luis Obispo. I estimate our flying time at about 13 hours and forty minutes. (JET TAKEOFF, BRIDGE)

GK: I found Jimmy Hoffa in a coffee shop in the Hotel Terkel having a latte.

TR (HOFFA): Care for a coffee, Noir?

GK: No thanks.

TR (HOFFA): Coffee sure has improved since I disappeared in '75.

GK: I guess so.

TR (HOFFA): And the computer. Wow. What an advance. I Googled myself today. Amazing. Except they said I'm dead. Which is not true.

GK: I noticed that, too.

TR (HOFFA): And the Chicago hot dog is as good as ever. Wiener and onions, pickle, hot pepper, tomato, relish, and mustard.

GK: Right.

TR (HOFFA): Except now there's a new movement to put ketchup in the Chicago dog instead of mustard.

GK: But then it'd be a Kenosha dog, not a Chicago dog.

TR (HOFFA): Exactly. Ketchup does not belong on a hot dog. Take it from me. (BRIDGE)

GK: So he sent me to meet with the lady who represented the Ketchup Dog Alliance.

SS: Listen, I'll give it to you straight. You ever hear of the Curse of the Cubs.

GK: Well, I know that the Cubs haven't won the World Series since they kicked a goat out of the ballpark. A saloonkeeper brought his goat to the game and Mr. Wrigley kicked him out because he stank.

SS: Except that's not what really happened.

GK: What happened?

SS: The goat ate a Chicago hot dog and the mustard burned his mouth and the goat said, "So long as you serve these garbageburgers at the ballpark, the Cubs will never win a Series."

GK: Where'd you get that?

SS: My grandfather was the saloonkeeper. (BRIDGE)

GK: So the ketchup lady came back to the coffee shop and I told Jimmy what she told me about the curse.

TR (HOFFA): That's a lot of hooey.

SS: You think so?

TR (HOFFA): Know so, lady.

SS: Turn on the game. I'll show you.

TR (HOFFA): I donno what you're talking about.

SS: Turn on the game. (CLICK)

DR (SPORTSCASTER): Bottom of the 6th, Cubs down 3-0, two out, nobody on, and the fans are getting a little restless, as Castro comes to the plate. Oh for two tonight.

SS: Okay, watch. (SQUORT) I'm putting ketchup on this hot dog.

DR: And he swings at the first pitch (BAT, ROAR OF CROWD) and it's going to deep right center.....and it caroms off the Castro comes around first....into second base, for a stand-up double. (CROWD, RHYTHMIC BALLPARK ORGAN)

SS: Let me put a little more ketchup on that dog. (SQUORT, SQUORT)

DR: As Rizzo comes to bat......with Castro on second.....and the pitch (BAT, ROAR OF CROWD).....and it's another long ball to the exact same spot......deep right center, and off the wall, as Castro comes home.....Rizzo at second with a double.


TR (HOFFA): So what? Two hits.....Big deal.

SS: You tell me where you want the next one.

TR (HOFFA): Home run. Left field.

DR: And here's Soriano now, not having a great night, oh for three, but the fans are on their feet out in the bleachers, and here is the pitch.....(BAT, ROAR OF CROWS) and it's going deep to's going, it's going, it's a ----- home run. The Cubs tie it up on a home run by Soriano. A great three-run rally here. As the Cubs come alive and Schierholtz comes to bat.

SS: So what do you want now?

TR (HOFFA): I tell you what I want, I want some mustard (SQUORT) on my hot dog.

SS: You're going to be sorry-----

DR: Folks----- this is hard to believe ---- but a dense yellowish fog has settled down over Wrigley Field out of nowhere.....I can't even see the mound from here......the umpire is calling time-out on account of fog......we've never seen this before.....have you, Sid?

DR (SID): I don't believe this has ever happened before in history, and I've got to believe this is the Curse of the Goat, because I can definitely smell goat. Can't you? That's goat. (GOAT, BRIDGE)

GK: So Chicago was faced with the terrible choice ---- to give up mustard on hot dogs or to give up hope of the Cubs winning the World Series.

DR (SID): Last year, sixty-one wins and a hundred and one losses. Kind of speaks for itself. I say, switch to ketchup.

GK: So they tried putting ketchup on hot dogs at Wrigley Field and (GAGGING) Chicagoans were just not used to it----- (GAGGING) ketchup on a beef hot dog, didn't sit well with people ----- so they tried serving hot dogs with just the onion, pickle, tomato, and hot pepper, and people tried to accept it but the Cubs lost and that night there was an anonymous phone call.

FN (GOAT): Hey. If you don't put ketchup on the dog, then the Cubs'll get lost in the fog. (BRIDGE)

SS (BIMBO): Jimmy----

TR (HOFFA): Yeah, dollface.

SS (BIMBO): If my Cubs don't win the pennant this year, I just don't know how I can go on --- I may have to find me a new boyfriend.

TR (HOFFA): What you talking about, dollface?

SS (BIMBO): I met this guy with the amazing hair, Jimmy.

TR (TRUMP): Let me just say this. If I, Donald Trump, Mr. Amazing, buy the Cubs, this club is gonna be a winner, I guarantee you that. I will change the name of the team to the Chicago Trumpsters and I will spend whatever I need to spend to make Chicago No. 1. Next year. Boom. World champions.

SS (BIMBO): What do you say, Jimmy----

TR (HOFFA): This guy is a blowhard, dollface. He can't do nothing for you.

TR (TRUMP): Who are you?

TR (HOFFA): James Hoffa.

TR (TRUMP): Oh yeah? Show me the birth certificate.

TR (HOFFA): I'll show you what knuckles look like up close.

TR (TRUMP): You're fired. (BRIDGE)

GK: I left the two of them to duke it out and I headed for the airport to fly back home on Circle of Life. I got to the ticket counter and (GOAT) there was a goat complaining because he'd put his credit card in the kiosk and it wouldn't give him a boarding pass. (GOAT)

SS: We don't allow goats on planes. It's against company regulations. (GOAT QUESTION Because you smell bad. (GOAT HURT) I'm sorry but it's the truth. You stink. (GOAT TAKES UMBRAGE) The answer is no. Now get out of here. (GOAT THREAT, STAMPS FOOT)

GK: I don't believe in the Curse of the Cubs. But on the other hand, there was something in that goat's voice that made me decide to take the train instead. The train is just fine. (WHISTLE) And the goat was on it. (SFX) And when he knocked on my compartment door (SFX), I opened it up and invited him in. (GOAT) We had a hot dog. With ketchup. Not bad. (THEME)

TR: 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.