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 December and rather mild in New York where I had moved up from my flophouse on Far Rockaway to a regular hotel in Manhattan, the kind with shampoo and conditioner, thanks to the money I earned by helping young Walter Martin, heir to the multi-billion dollar WalMart fortune, write his term papers at Columbia.
FN: Gee whiz. These are great. Thanks a million.
GK: If only he had thanked me a million instead of two grand. Still I was grateful. I'd found an app that you just type in a few nouns and it supplies the rest.
FN: "Taylor Swift and the Dialectic of Pop Aesthetics" ---- wow. "Taylor Swift creates a new heterogeneous narrative in 'Haters gotta hate, hate, hate,' affirming the historicization of metatext qua metatext, and while not throwing the baby out with the bathwater. interrogating post-capitalist hegemony and the structural intent of the nation-state.
GK: That's for your Humanities class and then this is for PoliSci.
FN: "Ted Cruz and the Dialectic of Conservative Aesthetics" ---- Senator Ted Cruz has created a new heterogeneous narrative in his run for the Republican nomination, and while not throwing the baby out with the bathwater, interrogates the liberal hegemony qua hegemony and the structural intent of the Affordable Care Act.
GK: Very neatly typed, footnotes and all. Good luck, Mr. Martin.
FN: What does "throw the baby out with the bathwater" mean?
GK: It's an old expression. Don't worry about it. Just don't do it.
FN: Wow. How'd you do this? You must know so much.
GK: Well, I know a heterogeneous narrative when I see one. (STING) So I got myself a nice room on the 8th floor of the Hotel Globerman and it was nice ---- the toilet flushed (SFX) and the shower worked (SFX) and the TV (TV AUDIO, TR & SS ROMANTIC UNINTELLIGIBLE) so I was all set and then from somewhere across from me a guy started practicing Silent Night on his steel drums (SFX) and I heard a couple arguing in, I think, Albanian (TR MALE & FEMALE BACK & FORTH), and then there was a car alarm (SFX) and then another car alarm (SFX) and then I heard a singer/songwriter next door----
I am starting to like myself
And I think she likes me.
She is exactly who I want to be.
She sits down and takes my hand
And I know she will understand.
(HE POUNDS ON WALL)
GK: Go get yourself a hotel room!!!
HM: This is a hotel room!!!
GK: Go get yourself another hotel room!!! (STING)
I finally fell asleep and then I had a dream that Lieutenant McCafferty was putting me under arrest.
TR (IRISH): You wretched filthy person you, I can't believe you were capable of something so heinous.
GK: What'd I do?
TR (IRISH): I can't bring myself to say it.
GK: What's the first letter?
TR (IRISH): I've known you for years, Noir, and this is truly despicable. And not only despicable, but monstrous, contemptible, odious, and loathsome.
GK: What is it? What?
TR (IRISH): And it's unspeakable.
GK: Oh please.
TR (IRISH): Come peaceably, Noir. Don't make me call for backup.
GK: Just tell me what it was that I did.
TR (IRISH): Okay. You asked for it. BACKUP!!!
DIGIS (SING): Backup......backup.....backup.
GK: Three women appeared, with snub-nosed .38s in their hands.
Don't make us get rough with you.
Cause we will do it if we must.
We are a backup group that knows how to make a bust.
Your Miranda rights---- he already read em.
So put your hands against the wall---- and SPREAD EM.
GK: And just then I woke up. (POUNDING ON DOOR) Someone was at the door. ---- Just a minute!!! I put on a bathrobe and opened it (SFX) and there he was. A very famous client of mine from the week before.
TR (TRUMP): I know it's late, Mr. Noir, and if I were the sort of guy who makes apologies, I would, but I'm not so I won't. I need you. You're the only one I trust, Guy.
GK: What you got, Mr. Trump?
TR (TRUMP): I can't believe what I said about not letting Muslims into the country. Unbelievable. Where did that come from? Jeeze. How could I do that?
GK: Well, how did you?
TR (TRUMP): That wasn't the real Donald J. Trump talking, believe me. I'm a real estate guy, I get along with everybody. I make deals. That's what I do. Some of my best friends are Muslims. Love the hummus. Felafel. The Drambuie. The ---- you know-----
TR (TRUMP): That too. Shishkebab. Guacamole. You name it. I eat a ton of that. What I said was stupid. And I am not stupid. So something is going on and I don't know what it is but until I figure it out, I think I'm gonna have to shut up.
GK: Well, maybe you should go out there and apologize.
TR (TRUMP): Why?
GK: Because you're sorry, and you didn't mean it----
TR (TRUMP): So?
GK: Just say it.
TR (TRUMP): I am very very sorry. ---- Doesn't sound sincere, does it.
TR (TRUMP): Write me something. I can put it on Twitter maybe.
GK: I already did. Here. See what you think.
TR (TRUMP): Oh, really. ---- Huh. ----- "I have followed too much the devices and desires of my own heart.. I have not loved my neighbor as myself. I have left undone those things I ought to have done------" .....I donno. Where'd you get this? I never heard anything like this before. It's kind of rough, don't you think.
GK: Are you getting enough sleep, Mr. Trump?
TR (TRUMP): I sleep like a log.
GK: Are you on a medication? Like a high-energy pill?
GK: Your hair is all out of place.
TR (TRUMP): I roughed it up so people wouldn't recognize me.
GK: Well, anyway your approval ratings are going up.
TR (TRUMP): Yeah. I'm huuge. I don't get that at all.
GK: Yeah, well you know what they say. Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people. (KNOCKS ON DOOR)
TR (TRUMP): Oh oh. Who's that? You expecting someone?
TR (TRUMP): Must be my security guys.
GK: Okay. (DOOR OPEN) Oh. Mr. President.
TR (BUSH): Evening, Mr. Trump. It's me. The Decider. I just decided that you're done running for president. You're out of here. Like you to meet my enforcer. Mr. Dick Cheney.
TR (CHENEY): Mr. Trump, I'm going to cut right straight to the chase. We've been doing surveillance on you and I think you know what we found out.
TR (TRUMP): Yeah, well, you don't scare me, cowboy. Back off, I say.
TR (CHENEY): We found that you have a secret 2000-acre hideaway in the Poconos.
TR (TRUMP): Yeah, and so what. Sew buttons on your underwear, that's what. Lots of people have weekend homes.
TR (CHENEY): We have videos, Mr. Trump You go out there to your big chalet and you put on skintight kneepants and silk stockings and a ruffled shirt and a powdered wig and you herd sheep and you speak French.
TR (TRUMP): That is a lie. You're from the media.
TR (CHENEY): Take a look at the video, Mr. Trump.
(CLICK. SHEEP. TR TRUMP ORATING SAME INFLEXION BUT IN FRENCH)
GK: Okay, okay. That's enough. We get the point. Thank you, gentlemen. Mr. President, good to see you.
TR (BUSH): Get smart, Mr. Trump. Stop being a bozo and a yahoo. Learn something. Read some books. Hire smart people. That's what I did. (BRIDGE)
GK: And they all left. It was quite a video. And from what I could tell, he spoke pretty good French. The ability to speak French is an ability that any candidate for President would want to hide from the electorate. John Kerry learned that too late. Americans do not want to see their leader forming his mouth to say those vowels. That was the last I saw of Mr. Trump for awhile and in the meantime, I guess, he hired smart people to make him sound intelligent, because when I next saw him on TV, he was a different guy.
TR (TRUMP): What we need is to creat a new heterogeneous narrative in our country and examine the fallacies of liberal hegemony and the structural intent of the nation-state. Do we throw the baby out with the bathwater? No. As someone once said, 'Haters got to hate, hate, hate," but meanwhile the historicization of the democratic imperative.....(MURMURING ON)
SS: 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.