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)
GK: It was spring and I was anxious to get out of town to avoid
a woman I met through a website called Beautiful Losers, who
I'd led her to believe I was 43 years old and a published novelist
and so we hadn't met yet because there was that big discrepancy
SS: (ON PHONE): What's the title of your book, Mr. Norris?
I'd like to read it.
GK: I'm all out of copies, Eileen. Let me look for one and I'll
let you know.
SS: (ON PHONE): How about we meet for coffee and you can
tell me about it?
GK: I've been drinking too much coffee - I'm trying to cut
SS: (ON PHONE): Tea, then.
GK: Same with tea. And besides, I'm about to leave town,
SS: (ON PHONE): I could come meet you now.
GK: Actually, I already left.
SS: (ON PHONE): Well, I can't wait to meet you, Mr. Norris,
and rip your clothes off and jump right into a passionate
GK: I'll call you the minute I get back. (BRIDGE) I was
leaving that day for Washington. I had been called by the
National Archives to help with a top-secret case. The Archives
keeps the original copy of the U.S. Constitution and someone
had managed to get into the secret chamber and make some
revisions in the First Amendment.
TR: (ON PHONE): They used a quill pen and India ink and it
looks pretty authentic except they put in an asterisk and wrote it
in the margin.
GK: And what did they write?
TR: (ON PHONE): Congress shall make no law respecting an
establishment of religion, except if people really really want it,
or abridging the freedom of speech, including corporations,
irregardless of expense.
GK: Yeah. I don't think they used the word "irregardless" back
in the early 19th Century. When did this happen?
TR: (ON PHONE): Midnight on Sunday.
GK: And where was Justice Scalia when it happened? (STING)
GK: So I got on a flight to Washington aboard Republican
SS: Hello, I am Bethany, I am your flight attendant. We will be
taking a vote about take-off in a little while ---- on Republican
Airlines we do not take off until we're unanimous in favor and
right now we have four people voting against unless they can be
upgraded to first, so we'll have to wait and see.
FN: Yeah, this is Brigadier General Earl Hollowell, and I'll be
your pilot today. I'm not too familiar with this particular aircraft
but I'm sure that (SHORTING CONNECTION,
ALARM)....sorry, wrong buttons there.....our flying time to
(OFF) Where we going? Oh, right. (ON) Our flying time to
Washington will be (FEEDBACK).....what's wrong with the
dang P.A. Bethany, get up here and fix this.
GK: I landed in Washington and got in a cab---- (FN: Where
you goin, Mon?) National Archives, driver.
FN: The big Greek temple on Constitution Avenue with the
Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution in the
glass cases, right?
GK: Right. (CAR REV, BRIDGE) So off he drove through the
crossword puzzle of Washington streets with numbered streets at
odd angles with letter streets like E and F and K and then a
Pennsylvania or Connecticut thrown in and whenever you think
you know where you are you run into a square or a circle with a
statue of a man on a horse. If they'd paint street names on the
rear ends of the horses, it'd be easier. But eventually we wound
up at the Archives (FOOTSTEPS) and I walked in past the
tourists (MURMURS) waiting to see the national documents and
also an exhibit of underwear worn by all Supreme Court Chief
Justices----- very interesting ----
TR: Mr. Noir, I'm Ramon Navarro, Chief Archivist of the
United States, welcome to the building.
GK: Lot of marble you've got here,
TR: In Washington we love the echo of footsteps - it helps us
know when a supervisor is coming. Oh, I'm afraid you'll have
to go through the metal detector---- you're not carrying a
GK: No, no.
TR: Right this way. (BEEPING, ALARM) There seems to be
something in your pants pocket.
GK: Aha. How silly - a pair of barbecue tongs and two tent
stakes. (CLUNK) There. Left over from Bible camp.
TR: This way, Mr. Noir. (FOOTSTEPS) (BRIDGE)
GK: He led me into his office and closed the door. (SFX)
TR: The thing with the Constitution, we figured that out, Mr.
Noir. Someone wrote on the glass, not on the document itself.
TR: But we've got a bigger problem with the Declaration of
GK: What's that?
TR: The Declaration has gotten very faded with time so that it's
pretty much unreadable but we just did a CAT scan and it turns
out there's a part of it that nobody noticed before. The
declaration is actually a lease. A two-hundred-fifty year lease. In
2026 the country reverts to the Crown.
GK: We become British again?
TR: Yes. She called and left a message today.
FN: (BRIT LADY): Hello. Toodle-oo. It is we, Elizabeth R.
We are coming over with our Corgis and our handbag. We plan
to move the capitol to Elizabeth, New Jersey, and paint the
White House beige or ecru. See you soon. (BARKS) (BRIDGE)
GK: Well, it's twelve years away. Surely we can think of
something. Pay them money or something. Make them watch
Fox News and maybe they'll change their mind.
TR: But we'll have to go around saying, "Cheerio" and eating
crisps instead of potato chips and riding on a lift and putting our
luggage into the boot and go toodling down a motorway. You
(HIGH HEEL FOOTSTEPS AND STOP)
SS: Hi there.
TR: My assistant archivist, Melissa Sassacaia.
GK: She was blonde and so beautiful it took your breath away
and wouldn't give it back. Her skin was like warm butterscotch.
She wore a dress so translucent I could read the serial number on
the twenty-dollar bill tucked into her underwear. She sure put
the arc into archive.
TR: Miss Sassacaia works in the social media systems section of
SS: Are you familiar with social media, Mr. Noir?
GK: Back in my time, the main social media were gin and the
foxtrot, but I'm always happy to learn.
SS: You sound British. Are you British?
GK: Spot on, ducky. How about we toddle off to the cinema for
a spot of snogging and shagging?
SS: Oh. How cheeky of you. I shan't. (GIGGLES)
GK: You telling me to naff off? Eh?
TR: Mr. Noir, please----
GK: Sod off, ya little wanker. Just sod off
TR: 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.