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.


GK: It was February and it was bitterly cold in Minnesota. Cold winds sweeping down from Manitoba and the city streets full of snow and I was thinking maybe I'd cancel a dinner date with some woman that a friend had talked me into because I was happy there in a warm office and I'd actually dropped off to sleep and I was in the midst of a beautiful dream. (DREAM CHORDS) (BLIZZARD, THUMPS ON DOOR) ---- Yes, who is it?

SS (OFF): Gwendolyn!


GK: Come in----

SS: Thank God someone is here.


GK: Come sit by the fire. You must be freezing, dressed only in that thin silk nightie ----

SS: I am. Hold me. I need the warmth of your body.

GK: Okay.

SS: I was almost ready to lie down in the snow and then I saw the light in your window. Oh wow. You are so hot. You are like a furnace. I just want to lie in your arms and combust. (DREAM CHORD)

GK: ---- And then I woke up and realized the knocking was Lieutenant McCafferty.

TR (IRISH): You sleeping on the job again, Noir? Almost bust my knuckles on that door.

GK: Come in, Lieutenant. It's a cold one out there, huh?

TR (IRISH): We got bears in the suburbs. Bipolar bears, Mr. Noir. Big hairy bears in the depths of depression but when they get onto ice they go into a manic phase and they start dancing.

GK: Must be a major nuisance for you law enforcement people.

TR (IRISH): Tis, for sure. Anyway I'm looking for a man named Danny Orlando Sanderson. From Enema, Montana.

GK: I think that's pronounced E-knee-ma.

TR (IRISH): Not in Montana. Anyway, he's selling organic bananas with his aunt Agnes Sanderson the Baptist pianist.

GK: Is this a joke? Bananas don't come from Montana.

TR (IRISH): Sanderson is from Montana. The organic bananas are from the volcanic ash-enriched lands of the upper Andes and they cause continuous tinnitus, grandiosity, clinical exhibitionism, and persistent pre-pubescent pusillanimity.

GK: So this Sanderson fellow is assisted by his aunt Agnes the pianist?

TR (IRISH): She's a Baptist pianist who does the shimmy-she-wabble in a strapless chemise and satin pants and plays anonymous sonatas and Chopin dances.

GK: And sells contraband bananas from the volcanic upper Andes.

TR (IRISH): So keep your eyes open, okay?

GK: I tried to go back to sleep and get back to that cabin in the woods and when I got there, she was very different. It was spring. The snow had melted.

SS: What a mess. Look at the yard. Where'd all that junk come from? And look at this house. When was the last time you cleaned? This is disgusting. Don't you notice the mess? (KNOCKING) Go answer the door. What's your problem? Answer the door? (FOOTSTEPS, DREAM CHORDS)

GK: Yes? What happened?

PP: What happened to what?

GK: There were pine trees out here, in the snow, it was the woods.

PP: This is the twelfth floor of the Acme Building, Mister. No pine trees up here.

GK: Oh. Right. (BRIDGE) : She was tall and dark and so beautiful I wanted to just throw myself at her feet and skip the preliminaries. ----So what can I do for you, ma'am?

PP: Ma'am----- oh. Right. Ma'am.

GK: Did I say something wrong?

PP: No, it's just that I'm not used to being called ma'am. You see, I was a man until a few weeks ago.

GK: Uh huh. Well, you look pretty feminine to me.

PP: Well, you can learn ---- the high heels are tricky but practice makes perfect. And I had been a woman before I was a man.

GK: I see. So you've done a double reverse.

PP: Yep. Started out as a woman and loved that and then I got married and had kids and I went through a bad spell where I was just driving the kids to this and that and raising money for public radio and the arts and electing liberals to office and so forth and I had this dream of blowing up stuff.

GK: I see.

PP: The field of demolition was pretty much closed to women at the time, so---- I had an operation ---- did the transplant ---- and learned how to use dynamite and you know something? It wasn't as much fun as I hoped it'd be. And it was not that easy being a guy. I could not swear very well. I found it hard to be foul-mouthed. I drove too carefully. I cooked too well. I had too many social skills. And I found football incredibly boring. Being a guy was like living in the wrong country. So I switched back and I like being a woman, except my first husband married my ex-wife so I'm out there trying to date and people have tried to set me up with a guy named ----- wait a minute ----- what did you say your name is?

GK: It's Guy Noir.

PP: It's you.

GK: What?

PP: I was supposed to go out on a date with you tonight.

GK: Oh.

PP: So-------. You're a private eye?

GK: No, I'm a podiatrist.

PP: Oh.

GK: And your feet in those little strappy pumps make me want to hold your feet in my hands and kiss them.

PP: I wouldn't resist very hard if you did.

GK: I'm crazy about you---- what's your name?

PP: Jean.

GK: I'm crazy about you, Jean.

PP: Once spelled with a G and now with a J.

GK: Jean, I believe that when two people go over a cliff, they ought to speed up, not slow down. I want to take off your shoes, and count your toes ---- oh my. I love pink toenails.

PP: I've always felt my feet were too big.

GK: Jean, your feet are thrilling to me. And so are your legs, your arms, I could go on and on.

PP: I hope you will. There's lots more. (BRIDGE)

GK: I don't know what happened with me and Jean. I think we went to dinner. I'm not sure. Somehow I fell asleep along the way and (DREAM CHORDS, BLIZZARD) I was out in a blizzard and snowmobiles went by (SFX) and I wrote the word HELP in the snow (SFX) and a plane went overhead (SFX) and a hot air balloon (SFX) and a flock of geese (SFX) And that's all I remember.


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 (THEME UP AND OUT)