(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.
GK: It was May, beautiful May, a month beloved of poets, because it rhymes with more things than April does, and I had a terrible need to get out of Minnesota. A person gets tired of niceness. People saying No Problem. I hate that. And you know what really burns my bacon are grown men who try to look like prepubescent boys by wearing baseball caps backwards. Grow up. Turn those hats around. And then the mayor gives a speech about diversity. I texted an abusive note to him and autocorrect changed the word to Assisi.Niceness. It gets on my nerves. And so I head for Washington. A city where people know how to pat each other on the back with a knife in their hand. (PHONE RING, PICKUP) Yeah, Guy Noir, Private Eye.
SS (ON PHONE): Mr. Noir? Hi. Welcome to Washington. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
GK: Secretary Clinton, good to hear your voice.
SS (HILLARY): Good to have you in town. You available for hire?
GK: If your check clears the bank, I'm yours. But with this Republican lineup, it doesn't look to me like you need much help. How'd you ever get all these clowns in one car?
SS (HILLARY): Ha ha ha. We donated money to their campaign committee.
GK: You paid them to run for president?
SS (HILLARY): It's a powerful motivator.
GK: But pretty expensive. No?
SS (HILLARY): Ha ha ha. Last night, Goldman Sachs paid me three million dollars to jump out of a cake wearing a tutu. I donated that to Mike Huckabee and Chris Christie and they went right out in front of the microphones and attacked me. Everytime they do, my numbers go up.
GK: So who else you going to get to run?
SS (HILLARY): Donald Trump is next week and after that Pee Wee Herman and then Carly Fiorina.
GK: She's already in.
SS: Really? Well, good.
GK: So what do you need me for?
SS (HILLARY): I want you to go and comfort Jeb Bush and tell him not to back down ---- that Iraq was a great idea and Afghanistan even better. (BRIDGE)
GK: I made a date to meet Governor Bush at the Burning Tree golf course, so I called up my cousin Mona whose late husband Artie was a golfer and sort of my size ----
SS: Oh it's so good of you to call, Guy. (WEEPY) I still miss him. I was a golf widow and then he went golfing one day and I became a real widow.
GK: It was a tragedy, I know.
SS: He was hit by a golf ball on the 14th hole and it killed him instantly but he had just made a 15-foot putt so we have that consolation. He died happy. He was never a good putter. That 14-footer must've meant a lot. Anyway, I have a pair of tangerine plaid pants that should fit you. It's a 54 waist.
GK: Well, I'll take them in 16 inches. Fine. I'll be over. (POUNDING ON DOOR. TR MUFFLED YELLS) Excuse me just a moment. There's somebody at the door.Be right back. (PUTS PHONE DOWN. FOOTSTEPS.) Who's there? I'm on the phone! Quit pounding on the door. (OPENS DOOR)
TR: Listen you idiot, you take back what you said about me.
GK: I don't know what you're talking about.
TR: I'm talking about what you said about me.
GK: I don't even know you.
TR: And that makes it all right to call a man a lunatic? Huh? (HE SWINGS. GK OOF. THEY STRUGGLE)
GK: I think maybe you missed school when they had the unit on manners, you big----- (HE SWINGS. TR OOF. FALLS. GROANS) There. Let it be a lesson to you. No hitting. (SLAMS DOOR) (FOOTSTEPS. STOP. PICKS UP PHONE) There. Sorry, Mona.
SS (ON PHONE): I also have a pair of his Madras shorts, Guy.
GK: You know, Mona---- my legs are not what they once were. I'm gonna skip the shorts -----
SS (ON PHONE0: So you want to go with the tangerine pants?
GK: I think so. Look---- (POUNDING ON DOOR. MUFFLED SHOUTS) Excuse me. I'm gonna have to deal with this. (PUTS PHONE DOWN. FOOTSTEPS.) Whoever you are, get it through your thick skull that you got the wrong guy, okay?. (OPENS DOOR)
TR: You saying that you didn't call me a crazed lunatic?
GK: I did not.
TR: So in addition to being a crazed lunatic, I am now a liar???? That's what you're saying.
GK: I have done nothing to you. Nothing. Ixnay. Zilch. Zero. Nada.
TR: Nada? I'll show you nada. (GUNSHOTS)
GK: Oh yeah. Well, two can play that game. (HE FIRES GUN) (DOOR SLAMS. FIRING STOPS) (FOOTSTEPS. STOP. PICKS UP PHONE) Anyway, Mona, I am sorry. I'll be over to pick up the pants as soon as I'm done here.
FN: Mona? I'm not Mona.
GK: I was just on the phone with Mona. The widow of Artie.
FN: This is the National Security Agency. What did you call us for?
GK: I didn't. I put someone on hold and somehow I got you----
FN: It's a federal offense to make crank calls to the NSA, fella. Wise up.
GK: Well, I didn't . Oh oh. (CRUNCH OF WOOD, DOOR IS BROKEN, TR ANGRY THREATS). What do you think you're doing? Look, you ruined my door.
TR: Serves you right, ya big dingus. (CRUNCH)
GK: Look. Here is a picture ID. That's me. Right there. See.
(PAUSE)
TR: Your name is Noyer?
GK: Noir.
TR: You're not the guy who called me a gibbering idiot and a psychopath.
GK: No.
TR: Okay. (PAUSE) Sorry. Wrong guy. (PAUSE) Would you happen to know how to turn off the timer on an explosive device?
GK: Oh boy. You've got a bomb too? (TICKING) You know, I'm glad your mother isn't here to see this. She would not be proud.
TR: I'm sorry. I got carried away.
GK: Did you ever hear about writing an angry letter?
FN (ON PHONE): Did I hear you say you had a bomb?
GK: I wasn't talking to you.
FN: This is the NSA. You are talking to us whether you think so or not.
GK: I've got to put you on hold, sir. (CLICK) So how do I disarm this bomb?
TR: I don't know. I'm really embarrassed about this.
GK: Well, I hope you are embarrassed. This is terrible.
TR: I fired a pistol at you, I busted down your door, and now here I am with an explosive device set to go off in two minutes and no idea how to disarm it.
GK: Two minutes?
TR: That's right. I set it for 2 o'clock.
GK: Two o'clock!
TR: And it's one fifty-eight right now.
GK: Not according to the clock on the bomb it's not. Look.
TR: One fifty-nine.
GK: Your clock is fast.
TR: So we've got less than one minute.
GK: I'd say so. About forty-five seconds. (PHONE RING) Darn. (PICK UP) Yeah?
SS (ON PHONE): This is Emily at Verizon, sir. Would you like to know how to save hundreds of dollars a year on your long-distance calls?
GK: Emily, in just a moment, I am going to be a long distance away from here. Like up in the air. In pieces.
SS: It'll only take a minute.
GK: A minute is my life expectancy, Emily. Sorry.
(HANG UP) You know you really need to get into some kind of anger management program, I mean----I'm gonna just pick this thing up (RAPID FOOTSTEPS) and drop this thing in the toilet and see if that doesn't take care of the whole problem----- there (SPLASH) ----- maybe that'll short circuit the thing. (FOOTSTEPS. DOOR CLOSE.) There. Consider the problem solved. (ENORMOUS WATERY BLAST, AND THEN GUSHING WATER. ALARMS) (BRIDGE)
GK: Well, it could've been worse. I headed off to the golf course and found Governor Bush teeing off at the 9th hole. (GOLF SWING, WHACK, OOOOOOOHS, SPLASH)
TR (BUSH): Dang it. Landed right in the lake.
FN: Hit another one. Go ahead. Nobody's looking.
TR (BUSH): That wouldn't be right. Hypothetically, I should place my ball by the lake and take a penalty. On the other hand, I don't do hypotheticals. So I'll hit another one. (GOLF SWING, WHACK, OOOOOOOs, GLASS BREAKAGE) Hey! It landed in that golf cart and the cart is heading straight for the hole.
FN: That's what I call a gimme, Governor.
TR (BUSH): So ---- what's your advice, Mr. Noir?
GK: Stay the course, Governor. I think you are just about to surge, Governor. For someone who's not actually a candidate, you are going like a house afire. Be your own man. Wear those glasses.
TR (BUSH): Wear the glasses.
GK: That's what sets you apart. The glasses. And speaking Spanish.
TR (BUSH): (SPANISH)
TR (BUSH): (SPANISH)
GK: And use the name Arbusto.
TR (BUSH): Arbusto.
GK: It means Bush but it's got extra syllables.
TR: Arbusto.
GK: The more Spanish, and the less English, the better.
(THEME)
SS: A dark night in a city that know how to keep its secrets.....Guy Noir, Private Eye. (MUSIC OUT)