Guy Noir, September 22, 2012

The Fitzgerald Theater

Saint Paul, MN


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Guy Noir

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TR (ANNC): 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 trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions: Guy Noir, Private Eye.

(THEME)

GK: It was September, it was like paradise, cool nights, warm sunny days, which of course only made a person think of the long darkness ahead, like a guy on the last day at Barbados getting ready to return to the coal mine.

MD: Hi, Mr. Noir. I'm Jennifer Lindsay, I'm a fashion model for Magnet magazine. You know. The magazine for intelligent women who also wish to be beautiful and lure men to their deaths.

GK: She was beautiful, but in a wholesome way ---- like someone who had been put on earth to demonstrate what a high-fiber breakfast can do for you. She looked like she'd never heard a harsh word in her life. Like she'd been raised in Vermont by llamas --- How can I help, Miss Lindsay?

MD: I earn a half million a year, posing in beautiful clothes made from natural fibers, but it isn't enough, Mr. Noir. I need more. I have loads of money. But I lack fulfillment.

GK: You want to be a singer-songwriter.

MD: No.

GK: You want to take stylish photographs of urban squalor.

MD: No, I want to resume my career as a librarian.

GK: You? A librarian?

MD: I heart books, Mr. Noir. I heart holding them in my hands and opening them and putting my face in them and smelling the paper and ink. OMG. I have stacks of books at home. I sleep in a bed full of books. I heart sharing my love of books and then I did a terrible thing, IMHO. I gave up my hornrim glasses and my long plaid skirt and plain blouse for the narcissistic world of high fashion. I want to go back, Mr. Noir.

GK: Miss Lindsay----

MD: Yes.

GK: Mainly what I deal with in this office is lowlife stuff like betrayal and runaways and repo men, that sort of thing. Where did you hear about me?

MD: Your Facebook page.

GK: What????

MD: I friended you last week. You didn't notice?

GK: Facebook. Me? (STING, BRIDGE)

SS (DORIS): I put you on Facebook, Guy. Because you owe me rent and you need some new clientele. Simple as that.

GK: Doris, my clientele is hanging out in dim bars and roadside motels, the kind that don't offer wi-fi. A lot of them are in jail, or on their way. Facebook is for the yoga crowd. And why is my profile picture a cat? I don't have a cat.

SS (DORIS): I tried to find a friendly picture of you for a profile picture but there aren't any. You're always scowling.

TR (GODFATHER): Hey.

GK: Who are you? Who is this, Doris?

TR (GODFATHER): I'm the exterminator. The name is Shorty. I came to spray. For pests. I'm gonna take em out.

GK: Who called him?

SS (DORIS): I did. You got roaches in here big enough to pull cars out of the ditch.

GK: I don't have bugs in here.

TR (GODFATHER): Hey, you a private eye? (BIG SPRAY). I could use your services. How much you charge? (BIG SPRAY)

GK: Would you mind aiming that away from me, sir?

TR (GODFATHER): It's like this. I majored in communications in college but this was the only job I could get. So anyway I'm writing a memoir. (SHORT SPRAY). It's called "Somebody's Gotta Do It." But my ex-wife Ellen won't let me back in the house to look at the scrapbooks of pictures from our marriage and the cancelled checks. (LONG SPRAY)

GK: Okay I think you're done. Thanks. See you later.

TR (GODFATHER): Think you could break into her house and get that for me? (A LITTLE SPRITZ) I mean, you and I are friends?

GK: We are?

TR (GODFATHER): Yeah. You got 312 friends and I'm one of them.

(FOOTSTEPS AWAY, DOOR CLOSE)

GK: Doris, listen ---- I appreciate your trying to find me new clients, but Facebook is not the way-----

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH, HIGH HEELS)

LM: Excuse me. Mr. Noir? Guy Noir?

GK: She was beautiful. She had a face that deserved to be done in stained glass and a big head of wild black hair that a man could pitch a tent and camp in for a weekend. She was tall with those impossibly thin legs that you only get on an all-linguini diet. ----- How can I help, ma'am?

LM: I need somebody to deal with a man who is driving me stark raving nuts. Look at this------ He wrote this: "If you don't like where you are in life, why not take a look at yourself. If you don't like teaching, maybe instead of striking, you should find another job. One you're good at." ----Can you believe that?

GK: Who wrote that?

LM: My husband. Wrote it on his wall. What a jerk.

GK: Well, just unfriend him.

LM: How can I unfriend him? I have to live with him. (BLOOP) What is that?

GK: Looks like an update. What does he say? "Sorry if the truth hurts. I worked for what I have. I suggest you do too. Get over yourselves, you crybabies."

LM: What a blowhard. I have to sleep next to that???

GK: So unfriend him.

LM: Unfriend my own husband???

GK: People do it all the time. It's better than putting Drano in his oatmeal.

LM: You're right. I'm unfriending him. Hey where's your cat?

GK: She's at the kennel. Good luck to you. (BIG CLOMPING FEET)

DR (ROUGH): Hey. Excuse us. You Noir?

GK: Yes, sir-----

DR (ROUGH): Yeah, me and Rod here want to have a commitment ceremony.

GK: A commitment ceremony.

TR (ROUGH): Yeah. We were gonna go out to Boston and get married but what with deer hunting season and our work schedules we can't get away so we'll just do the commitment ceremony.

DR (ROUGH): We're inviting fifty, sixty people and we're gonna wear our camo and have our dogs there.

TR (ROUGH): We raise Weimeraners.

GK: Okay. How can I help?

TR (ROUGH): We'd like you to guard our car so nobody ties tin cans and shoes to the bumper.

GK: Couple of big hefty guys like you, I don't think anybody's going to mess with your car.

DR (ROUGH): And we want to make sure nobody puts whoopee cushions in the mattress of our bed or ties jingle bells to the springs.

GK: Where did you hear about me?

DR (ROUGH): My mom saw your cat on Facebook.

GK: Okay. Fine. I'll be there. Congratulations.

(THEME)

TR (ANNC): 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 trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions: Guy Noir, Private Eye.

(THEME OUT)

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