Guy Noir script
Saturday, October 11, 2008

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(THEME)

TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions…..Guy Noir, Private Eye."

(THEME FADE)

GK: It was fall in Minnesota, the trees were golden, and they made me wish I had pulled my measly savings out of the stock market and bought gold instead of watching the blood-letting on Wall Street that week. My stockbroker Mr. Greenspan came over to tell me in person…..

TR (GREENSPAN): Hello Guy, how are you?

GK: Not good, Al.

TR (GREENSPAN): I know you're disappointed, but I'm here to advise you to sit tight and don't panic.

GK: I panicked on Wednesday, Al. Today it's numb disbelief.

TR (GREENSPAN): The economy is fundamentally strong and stocks right now are undervalued.

GK: Al, I just lost 98% of my savings by investing in fish derivatives. On your advice. Fish derivatives!

TR: I feel confident about fish derivatives in the long run, Guy. Right now, fish derivatives are going through an adjustment.

GK: I don't have a lot of long run to work with, Al. This was my nest egg.

TR (GREENSPAN): As soon as fishing season rolls around again, fish derivatives are going to take off, believe me.

GK: Not for me they aren't. I'm selling.

TR (GREENSPAN): Don't do that, Guy.

GK: And I don't want any more visits from you, Al. Okay? You are my oracle no longer. You are less an oracle than a barnacle.

TR (GREENSPAN): You used to greet me with open arms and now you turn away as if I were a bad piece of salmon.

GK: Well, when you're falling and you see the ground speeding up toward you, you naturally have ill feelings for the guy who pushed you out the window.

TR (GREENSPAN): Guy— This may seem like the end, but it's also the beginning-the beginning of a new end, that is yet to begin to end…..(STING, BRIDGE)

GK: I wasn't the only one hurting, of course. The cleaning lady at the Acme Building had her own story to tell—

SS: I was the CFO of Amalgamated Predators Inc., Mr. Noir. Now I'm emptying wastebaskets.

GK: Amalgamated Predators was the bank that sold 10 billion in mortgages to elderly Alzheimer patients, as I recall.

SS: We did not discriminate on the basis of mental clarity, Mr. Noir. Anyway, the stock went from 49.50 to zippo, and I had to sell my Ferrari and move in with my parents. I've got my resume out there and meanwhile I'm mopping floors. Lift your feet up— thanks.

GK: What sort of work you looking for?

SS: I am willing to do anything.

GK: Yeah, but that's what got you into trouble in the first place. (BRIDGE) I desperate for cash, but I had my standards. Some things I would not do.

TR: I need someone to watch my cat while I go play badminton. (MEOW)

GK: I don't do that, sir. Sorry.

TR: I'll pay $50 an hour.

GK: Hire a teenager or something.

TR: They're in school.

GK: Hire an elderly person.

TR: They can't run fast enough.

GK: Look, I don't do animals. (MEOW)

TR: She's a very gentle cat with a wonderful personality. (MEOW)

GK: Cats don't have personalities, sir. They're cats.

TR: Please —- $75 an hour.

GK: I don't do this. Okay? I'll be picking hair off my suit for weeks.

TR: A hundred bucks an hour!

GK: I'm allergic.

TR: A hundred twenty-five an hour.

GK: I'm not a cat person.

TR: A hundred and fifty.

GK: I don't think you're listening to me, sir. (BRIDGE)

(PAUSE, GK CLEARS THROAT)

(MEOW)

GK: Don't talk to me, okay? Just don't say anything. (MEOW) I'm not looking at you, I'm not listening to you. (MEOW) And if he doesn't come back, which he may not, you are on your own, so I trust you've not been declawed.

(PHONE RING) (PICKUP)

GK: Yeah. Guy Noir.

TK (ON PHONE): Guy, it's John. John's Pawnshop.

GK: John's Pawnshop—- do I have something there?

TK (ON PHONE): No, no. Listen—- I've been incredibly busy this week and I just gotta take a break and get away. Could you watch the store for me for a few hours?

GK: The pawnshop?

TK (ON PHONE): Yeah. It's easy. Just stand behind the counter and deal with customers and I'll be back by 7 or 7:30.

GK: Can I bring a cat?

TK (ON PHONE): You got a cat? Sure. No problem. (BRIDGE)

GK: My first customer came in five minutes after John left and it was a guy with a comb-over and a furtive look in his eye. —- What can I do for you, sir?

TR: I want to pawn something. It's a very rare Victrola. Classic antique. Mint condition. Look. (CRANK WINDING) Winds up and it plays 78s. I'll even toss in some records. (STATIC OF NEEDLE,

SS SINGING: "St. Paul, my heart is ever yearning….for the day of my returning…Down beside the Mississippi. Where I used to be a hippy. With a scarf around my head, listening to the Grateful Dead' " (LIFT NEEDLE OFF)

GK: I didn't realize the Sixties were that long ago.

TR: Yeah, it's an antique.

GK: What's this? Bob Dylan recorded 78s? Is that right? (STATIC OF NEEDLE) (TR DYLAN: My wild Irish rose, the sweetest flower that grows, I have looked everywhere but none can compare to my wild Irish rose. My wild Irish rose….(LIFT NEEDLE OFF)

TR: So whaddaya think?

GK: I'm sorry, old-timer. But nowadays people want something they can strap to their arm while they do the elliptical. You can't do that with this. How about twenty bucks?

TR: Twenty bucks! How about fifty?

GK: I can't go that high. Thirty's my top.

TR: Jeeze. I can't do thirty. Look— mister— I am desperate.

GK: I know. I know.

(DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, CLOSE. FOOTSTEPS)

SS: Hi. Where's John?

GK: He's gone. You got something to pawn?

SS: Got these pompons.

GK: Pompons.

SS: Chiffon pompons from Tucson. Along with a box of coupons.

GK: Coupons for what?

SS: Hairstylist. Ten bouffants. And they'll dye your hair blonde. Plus laundry soap and a package of frozen prawns. Got lawn ornaments. Bronze. A Madonna, Adonis, two fawns, and this swan.

GK: You want to pawn the swan?

SS: And the fawns, Adonis and the Madonna.

GK: Doesn't look like bronze.

SS: Bronze and onyx.

GK: Not silicon?

SS: Onyx. Made in Housatonic, Vermont.

GK: Housatonic isn't in Vermont.

SS: I'll toss in a boxful of tampons.

GK: These huge things?

SS: Tampons.

GK: Those aren't tampons, those are tarpons.

SS: Whatever. Also a pair of long johns.

GK: New or used?

SS: He's got 'em on.

GK: Who? Him?

TK (HIGH): Hi.

GK: Who's he?

TK (HIGH): The name's Sean. I'm from Wisconsin. Menomonie.

SS: He's an economist.

GK: You're trying to pawn a Menomonie, Wisconsin economist.

TK (HIGH): Originally I'm from the Bronx.

GK: Not much demand for economists.

SS: Please. I'm despondent.

GK: Sorry.

SS: I also have a novel.

GK: A novel? You want to pawn a novel?

SS: Here. Read it. It's called "Ponderosa"— (THUMP)

GK: It's a ponderous ponderosa.

SS: I have a lot to say. (FLIPPING PAGES)

GK: "There were many things she had thought about for a long time, and many of them had to do with him and the crummy way he treated her, he was the most towering narcissist she'd ever met, or at least one of the most towering, and when she got mad at him he'd say things like "boy, it doesn't take much, does it?" like he hadn't told her he'd call which in fact he had…." I don't know.

SS: What do you think? I 'm not done with it yet.

GK: I don't know what to say.

SS: Read some more. It sort of picks up —-

GK: I can't.

SS: "The roller coaster climbed slowly to the very top and she said, "I brought you here today, Jim, to tell you that it's over." His face was contorted in terror as the coaster began its sickening descent, and he pleaded with her not to break up with him, as she prepared to get off when the coaster stopped and start a new life on her own."

GK: Sorry. We don't take novels. This is a pawnshop. Gold watches, yes. Diamond rings. Antiques. Novels, no.

SS: Please. Please. (SHE STARTS TO SOB, AND THE SOBBING BUILDS TO WAIL.)

GK: Okay. Okay. — here's a hundred bucks. But keep the economist. That's just for the novel.

TR (IRISH): Did I hear you offer money for a novel, Noir?

GK: Lieutenant McCafferty — I didn't hear you come in.

TR (IRISH): I'm a detective, Noir. My movements are imperceptible. It's something you learn in my line of work. Anyways, I wrote a novel. It's called "Close Cover Before Striking" —

GK: A detective novel.

TR (IRISH): Have a look.

GK: (RIFFLING PAGES) "The blonde clung to the lieutenant's arm like a strip of bacon on a cheeseburger as a frown passed over his finely chiseled features as the sight of Noyer an old private eye in a cheap suit with dandruff on the shoulders who was always asking favors and now the lieutenant was in a hurry to catch the plane to Guadalajara with Melanie or whatever her name was, it was hard to remember, there were so many—-Dandruff?

TR (IRISH): It's a novel. It's a good novel. Better than that piece of crap you just gave a hundred bucks for.

SS: You referring to my novel?

GK: Okay, okay, McCafferty, a hundred bucks, fine. You got it.

TR: Yeah, I'm referring to your novel, sister. It's nothing but a bucket of crap.

GK: Take your money and go, both of you.

SS: "Clung to him like bacon on a cheeserburger" — where'd you learn to write? Out of a comicbook?

GK: Take it easy.

TR (IRISH): I oughta run you in for impersonating an author. Lookit there. "His face was contorted in terror as the coaster began its sickening descent" —- a child could write better than you—-- (MEOW)

GK: You're upsetting the cat, McCafferty. Out of here. Both of you.

(DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, DOOR CLOSE, FOOTSTEPS)

TK: Hi. Who were they?

GK: Coupla writers. What you got there?

TK: Poems.

GK: We don't loan money for poems.

TK: You loan money for novels.

GK: Please—-- take them someplace else. Like the recycling center.

TK: Just look at one.

GK: I don't want to.

TK: You looked at theirs.

GK: That's different

TK: Just look at one.It'll take you fifteen seconds. Come on.

GK: No.

TK: I'll read it to you then. It's called "The Lonely Loon"--

GK: Oh please.

TK: "Whose lake this is I think I know,
He's paddling toward me nice and slow.
A bird whose call can thrill the soul.
(LOON CALL)

GK: No, thanks.

TK: There's more.

GK: I'm sure.

TK: My little loon must think it weird
To see a man with a big beard,
A creature to be deeply feared.

(LOON CALL)

GK: Go away.

TK: He gives his little tail a shake
As if to say "Give me a break"
His cry rings out across the lake

(LOON CALL)

GK: Please. I'm not interested.

TK: It's a terrific poem. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, CLOSE, FOOTSTEPS)

GK: Go away. I got another customer.

TK: I was here first.

TR (GREENSPAN): Hello — I have this large glass ball I'd like to pawn if I may.

GK: Is this a crystal ball?

TR (GREENSPAN): No, sir. It is not a crystal ball.

GK: It looks like a crystal ball.

TR (GREENSPAN): I can assure you it is not a crystal ball. I have tried it out and it is not a crystal ball. It is a large paperweight.

GK: Ten bucks.

TR (GREENSPAN): How about fifteen?

GK: Okay. Fifteen.

TK: The woods are lovely though they're small
But I must head back to St. Paul
There's leaves to rake because it's fall
And also there are loons to call.

(LOON CALL)

GK: Ten bucks.

TK: Ten bucks????

GK: Ten bucks. Take it or leave it.

TK: How about a Victrola?

GK: Don't want a Victrola.

TK: It's a beauty. Listen. (CRANK, THEN NEEDLE ON DISC) SS SOPRANO: All you need is love, all you need is love, all you need is love, love is all you need.)

GK: Don't want it. Get it out of here.

(THEME)

TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions…..Guy Noir, Private Eye.

Old Sweet Songs: A Prairie Home Companion 1974-1976

Old Sweet Songs

Lovingly selected from the earliest archives of A Prairie Home Companion, this heirloom collection represents the music from earliest years of the now legendary show: 1974–1976. With songs and tunes from jazz pianist Butch Thompson, mandolin maestro Peter Ostroushko, Dakota Dave Hull and the first house band, The Powdermilk Biscuit Band (Adam Granger, Bob Douglas and Mary DuShane).

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