(THEME)

TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions --- Guy Noir, Private Eye ---

(PIANO)

GK: It was November and the heat had been turned off in my office due to a misunderstanding about the rent so I went downstairs to the Brew HaHa coffeeshop to warm up my hands-----(ESPRESSO)

FN: Yeah, what can I get you?

GK: Cup of coffee.

FN: What you want---- latte, parfait, cappuccino, Mendocino,

latino, san marino, Felicia, espresso, principessa, regina, verbena, cafe au lait, cabriolet, or Ishtar.

GK: Just coffee.

FN: What kind?

GK: Coffee.

FN: You want me to repeat the menu?

GK: No. Black coffee.

FN: It's all black coffee. Coffee is black. Okay. What you want? I don't have all day.

GK: An ordinary cup of black coffee.

FN: We don't make ordinary coffee. You want ordinary coffee, go to a vending machine.

GK: I may do that. Listen, I want a cup of black coffee. Drip coffee. You pour the water in, it runs down through the coffee grounds, and it drips into a carafe.

FN: How about principessa? You want that?

GK: How much is it?

FN: Three-fifty.

GK: For a cup??

FN: Right. For a large cup, four ninety-five.

GK: For drip coffee?

FN: It's from Peru. Or how about the malaguena?

GK: Okay, give me that then.

FN: You want the *** or the ***?

GK: No.

FN: it's a choice: *** or ***?

GK: What does it mean?

FN: It's Basque. Large or small.

GK: Small.

FN: You mean ***.

GK: Yes.

FN: Then say it: ***.

GK: I don't speak Basque.

FN: ***. It's easy.

GK: ***.

FN: Pardon? What?

GK: ***. Small.

FN: Oh. You mean ***?

GK: Yes.

FN: (SHOUTS IN BASQUE)

GK: Oh boy. (FOOTSTEPS) I swear, I don't know what is happening in this country. I used to feel like I belonged here and now---- everything is stranger and stranger. (SCRAPE OF CHAIR) Excuse me. You saving this chair for someone?

TR: No.

GK: You mind if I sit down?

TR: Well----- you're not one of those gun control people, are you?

GK: Mister, I don't want to get into it.

TR: I just don't want to sit next to someone who favors stripping away the means of defense and rendering law-abiding citizens helpless to the predations of crazy people, that's all.

GK: Well, let me ask you---- are you carrying a weapon right now?

TR: I've got a howitzer. Right here. Under the table.

GK: Oh my gosh. Is it loaded?

TR: Of course it's loaded!! What would I be doing with an unloaded howitzer???? That's just stupid.

GK: Is that all you got?

TR: No, I got a .38 pistol on a .45 frame and I got six sharpened sticks with poison on the tips.

GK: And that's it?

TR: And a hand grenade.

GK: And that's it.

TR: And an anti-tank explosive device.

GK: You see a tank around here? Do you?

TR: By the time you see it, it's too late.

GK: You think a tank is going to roll up to the Acme Building

and start blasting away?? Do you?

TR: If he does, he isn't going to be blasting away very long. I'll toss this under his treads and WHAMMO. He's gone. And you'll be talking out of a different side of your mouth then.

GK: You know---- I don't think I'm going to sit down next to you. Thanks. Bye.

(FOOTSTEPS AWAY)

(FOOTSTEPS)

FN: HEY, you ordered the cafe au lait, right?

GK: Whatever you have is fine.

FN: We're out of cafe au lait.

GK: Then I'll have something else.

FN: What you want? We got latte, parfait, cappuccino,

Mendocino, latino, san marino, Felicia, espresso----

GK: Any of those be fine.

FN: Okay. You want the *** or the ***?

GK: ***.

FN: I thought you ordered a *** before....

GK: I'll just have a ***.

FN: It's no problem making a ***.

GK: ***. Thanks.

(FOOTSTEPS)

SS: Excuse me. Could you help me?

GK: I certainly hope so. (STING) She was tall and blond and the aroma of her perfume seemed to say that she'd been places and seen things she could never explain. A woman of experiences that would make it nearly impossible for her to live in Bemidji, though she was wearing a sweatshirt that said, "Bemidji, First City on the Mississippi".

SS: It's this crossword. Forty-seven across. Sumac.

GK: Yma Sumac. Y-m-a.

SS: Yma?

GK: Famous soprano. Peruvian. Recorded a song called "Bo Mambo".

SS: Wow. Thanks. And Fifty-two down, "Giant". Three letters.

GK: Ott. O-t-t. Mel Ott. New York Giants. Great hitter in the Thirties and Forties.

SS: Wow. If you and I lived together, we'd finish crosswords in no time at all. (BRIDGE)

GK: I let that thought dangle for a moment. ---- So---- Bemidji.

SS: I grew up there. My name is Norma Nordstrom. I changed it to Ava LaVie.

GK: LaVie----- as in-----

SS: (SINGS)

Quand il me prend dans ses bras

Il me parle tout bas,

Je vois la vie en rose.

GK: I thought so.

SS: You may recognize me from billboards. For years I was the leading women's underwear model in America. Calvin Klein, Maidenform, Victoria's Secret, I did them all. And then last week they told me I have a tiny crease on my midriff. I don't! Look.

GK: Look? Oh---

SS: Look. Do I have a crease on my midriff?

GK: I don't see one.

SS: And how about there?

GK: Where ?

SS: There.

GK: Oh. There. No.

SS: It was a lie. I'm suing for one-point-five million. And meanwhile I'm going back to Bemidji.

GK: You know people back there?

SS: No, but I'm going to campaign against the hunting of deer.

GK: In Bemidji?

SS: It's barbaric. It must stop.

GK: How are you going to----

SS: I'm going to run through the woods in my underwear, waving a huge white flag, singing (SHE SINGS)

PLEASE DON'T SHOOT OUR PRECIOUS DEER

WHY TREAT THEM SO SEVERE

THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO BE HERE....

GK: You know there's a man sitting over there with a howitzer and if I were you.....oh oh.....here he comes----(FOOTSTEPS)

TR: WHO'S SINGING THAT STUPID SONG? Hey you----

(PAUSE)

SS: Wendy??

(PAUSE FOR RECOGNITION)

TR: Norma?

(PAUSE)

SS: I never imagined I'd run into you again.

TR: Nor did I.

SS: How are you?

TR: Pretty good.

SS: Wendy is my old boyfriend. He's from Bemidji.

TR: On my way back now.

SS: Really---

TR: Bought a cabin in the woods.

SS: I always dreamed of living in the woods.

TR: Well?

SS: What are you saying?

TR: Let's go.

SS: Bye.

GK: Bye. Nice talking to you.

(FOOTSTEPS)

FN: Here's your san merino, mister. You ordered a a ***, right?

GK: No, a small.

FN: A ***? I'm sure you said a ***.

GK: No.

FN: No what?

GK: No what you said.

FN: Which was what?

GK: A ***.

FN: A what?

GK: Never mind.

FN: I didn't understand you.

GK: It's okay. I'm used to it.

(MUSIC)

TR: A dark night in a city that keeps its secrets, but on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building one man is still trying to find the answers to life's questions.....Guy Noir, Private Eye.

(MUSIC OUT)