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 June and I was in Los Angeles, looking around for a fellow known as Laszlo. A fellow who had rigged a set of tarot cards and given people false optimism and earned a lot of money doing it. I was looking for him on behalf of a woman named Lil.
(RING) (PICK UP)
LT: Is this Noir?
GK: Last I checked it was. Who's this?
LT: You want my real name or the name I go by after the sun goes down?
GK: Your choice.
LT: It's Lil. I'm looking for a fortune teller who told me I would find love in the next 24 hours and time is up. Can you meet me in fifteen minutes at the Vista del Mar in Los Feliz?
GK: It was a dim little club. A woman bartender trying to look busy and one dame sitting on a stool who I took to be Lil.
LT: You're hot, you know that? When you walked in, I could hear you sizzle.
GK: What you thought was sizzle was just my shoes squeaking.
LT: I know sizzle when I hear sizzle.
GK: Is that right?
LT: I didn't say it was right, but it sure is interesting.
GK: Anyway, I take it this Laszlo character led you to believe in love, huh?
LT: He told me that somebody was about to come along who was going to put the bomp in the bomp bah bomp bah bomp.
PP: You two planning to order something or you want me to come back tomorrow?
GK: Sorry, barkeep. What you want, Lil?
LT: I'll have a Long Island tea with a sliver of lemon and a slice of lettuce.
PP: And you? Mister?
GK: You wouldn't happen to know a fellow by the name of Laszlo, would you, Lola?
PP: And what if I do? Is there a prize?
MS: And you found me, Mister. Bingo. Here I am.
LT: You lied to me, Laszlo. You led me to believe I was about to find life and laughter in the lap of a lusty long-legged lover. Instead---- loneliness, listlessness, low-cost liquor, and long lunches with leeches, lunatics and loathsome lechers. I want my money back.
MS: Sorry you feel that way, Lil. I read the cards the way I see 'em and I saw someone putting the bomp in your bomp bah bomp bah bomp and the ram in the rama lama ding dong and the bop in the bop shoo bop shoo bop.
LT: You told me he would put the bop in my bop shoo bop shoo bop a wop bam boom.
FN: Excuse me. I'm looking for a guy named Laszlo who reads tarot cards.
MS: That'd be me, mister.
FN: The name's Lowell. Lowell DeLisle. From New Orleans, Louisiana. Live in a lean-to made of lilypads.
LT: If he tells you that somebody's about to put the bomp in your bomp bah bomp bah rama lama shoo bop shoo bop shang shang a shimmy jimmy, don't believe him. It ain't happening.
FN: I'm not looking for any bomp in my bomp bah bomp bah rama lama shoo bop shoo bop shang shang a shimmy jimmy, I'm looking for my car keys.
MS: You want me to locate your car keys, let's step into the back room, Mister DeLisle, that's where I read my tarot cards.
LT: Take off that fedora, Noir, let me see your face.
GK: What would you want to see my face for?
LT: I want to see the lovelight in your eyes.
GK: No lovelight in my eyes. My heart's been broken so many times, it jingles when I walk, sister. I need a woman like I need a hole in the head.
LT: I ain't your sister, mister, unless your daddy spent some time in Langley, Alabama. In which case I don't want to hear about it.
GK: I don't know what you're talking about.
LT: You're not that smart, you know that? But, I'm starting to like you.
PP: You like lack of intelligence in a man?
LT: I guess it's just what I've gotten used to over the years.
PP: Anyway, Lil, if you're looking for someone to put the bomp in the bomp bah bomp bah bomp, maybe you ought to read The Book of Love.
LT: The Book of Love that says to love her with all your heart and tell her you're never, never, never gonna part?
PP: That's the one.
LT: I wonder, wonder who, mmbadoo-ooh, who---who wrote it.
GK: Probably the guy who could put the bomp in your bomp bah bomp bah bomp zada zim zam zoo zadda fla dada dobie wah do wop shang shang.
LT: Wow. I like how you do that.
PP: You don't look like a man who ever read The Book of Love.
GK: I read it twice. I even remember some of it.
LT: So that's why you've been sneaking looks at me ever since you walked in here.
GK: Have I?
LT: How about we stop pussyfooting around and get down to business.
GK: What business you talking about?
LT: Love business. What else? You want me and I want you. It's as simple as that. Two lonely people in a cold uncaring world and we found each other. So let's not blow it.
MS: You take your hands off her, Noir----- if there's any bomp to be put in her bomp bay bomp bah bomp it's gonna be put there by yours truly.
PP: Look out!!!! He's got a gun. (MS & GK SCUFFLE, THEN GUNSHOT, MS GROANS)
MS: I shot myself. In the foot. Oh God, it hurts. Man, that is painful. Never knew a foot wound would hurt like that. It burns like crazy. Call a doctor, would you? Jeeze. Help me.
LT: I hope you don't mind if I ask you a personal question. Are you married, Mr. Noir?
MS: Hey, I'm lying here suffering and you ask about his marital status? Come on--------
GK: I almost was married once and it scared me to death. Since then I've been dedicated to the pursuit of happiness.
TR (OFF): (FRENCH)
PP: Who's that?
GK: It's that guy back in the shadows.
LT: What are you doing back there, mister?
TR (FRENCH): I am listening to what you say and this ---- how you say---- bomp bah bomp bah bomp zada zim zam zoo zadda fla dada dobie wah do wop shang shang. Is that what we French would say---- (FRENCH).
MS: I'd appreciate it if you people could forget about the bomp bah bomp bah bomp zada zim zam zoo zadda fla dada dobie wah do wop shang shang for a minute and call me a doctor.
FN: Okay, we'll call you a doctor. You're a doctor.
(SLOW FOOTSTEPS, HIGH HEELS)
SS: What's going on in here? Sounds like a party. Oh, hi, Laszlo.
LT: So you're Leilani.
SS: What's wrong with his foot? It's bleeding.
PP: He shot himself.
SS: In the foot?
PP: Yeah. Makes sense, right? Since it's bleeding.
SS: Never saw anybody shoot himself in the foot before.
PP: Well, if you'd been here five minutes ago, you would've.
FN: You wouldn't happen to know who wrote the Book of Love, would you?
SS: Some fool, I suppose. Somebody who thought he could put the bomp in the bomp bomp bah bomp bah bomp and the dip in the dip da dip da dip root root zooty ahta ze bo day ze dum ze dum, zip zam zoody zada ze do zay freegin ze POW!!
FN: That's not what I heard.
SS: What'd you hear?
FN: I heard the bomp in the bomp bomp bah bomp bah bomp and the dip in the dip da dip da dip root root zooty ahta ze bo day ze dum ze dum, zip zam zoody zibbidee do doh flaybin zee wah!
SS: And not the zim zam zoodie wah do freegin ze POW?
MS: For your information, there's no zim zam zoodie wah do freegin ze pow, there's just a lee bo, lee bo twi dot boo deedly ott.
GK: Whatever. I want to find him so I can shake his hand because he made my baby fall in love with me.
LT: What baby you talking about?
GK: You, baby.
LT: I thought you thought our romance was hopeless.
GK: If I were smarter, I probably would think so, but I'm not, so don't worry about it.
LT: Well, today's your lucky day, mister.
SS: What is wrong with you people? I don't get you at all.
MS: What's wrong? You might as well ask, Why do birds sing so gay? And lovers await the break of day? Why does the rain fall from up above? Why do they fall in love?
LT: So what do you say, Guy? My car's parked in front and I don't want to have to put another quarter in the meter.
GK: I'm just savoring the moment, Lil.
LT: Let's go put some of that bomp back in your bomp bah bomp bah bomp root root zooty ahta ze bo day ze dum ze dum, zip zam zoody zibbidee do doh flaybin zee wah, what do you say?
GK: I'm right there, babes.
MS: So---- you don't want your money back, Lil?
LT: Not now. I'll let you know if things change.
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.
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).