(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.

GK: It was November and it had turned cold on the northern prairie. The geese were heading south (SFX), sounding like somebody's New Year's Eve party, and so was Sid, who painted the new gold lettering on my office door. The private eye business was down, thanks to Google, and so I had added Personal Counselling to my shingle --- Guy Noir, Private Detection & Personal Counselling, and Sid had spelled Counseling with two L's.

FN: Counseling has just one L?

GK: Right. Counseling

FN: Huh. Well, what the L, huh? Anyway, I'm off to Miami on Sunday. November 1st, me and the missus. We booked five months at the Starfish Motel on Biscotti Bay.

GK: I read about that Bay ---- the big jellyfish that give off a transparent fluid that if you step in it, causes paralysis for up to 48 hours.

FN: People don't care ---- one L or two ---- maybe some elderly English major ----

GK: Well, I care. It makes me look like a dope. Anyway, remember to wear rubber boots on the beach.

FN: Thanks. By the way, your fly is open.

GK: Did you know alligators can run up to 45 mph in short bursts? (DOOR CLOSE) I checked my messages, hoping for some business ---- it'd been awhile (BEEP)

TR (ON PHONE): Yeah, Mr. Noir, it's Hank from the Boy's Club --- thanks for coming over on Career Day and talking to the boys about detective work---- but some of the parents were upset about what you said about hitting somebody where it really hurts bad If you could write us an apology, I'd appreciate it. (BEEP)

SS (ON PHONE): Uh, Mr. Noir, this is Elaine at Acme Cleaners. We were not able to get the snack dip out of your cummerbund, and I'm wondering if you want us to try an acid bath or maybe take it down to the river and beating it on the rocks or what. Give us a call. (BEEP)

FN (ON PHONE): Mr. Noir, it's Craig Grommet downstairs in the law office. When you roll your chair around up there, it sounds like the New York subway. We are preparing a Cease and Desist order if this goes on.

(KNOCKS ON DOOR)

GK: Yeah, Come on in, the door's unlocked. (DOOR OPEN, FOOTSTEPS)

TR (TWITCHY GUY W ADOLESCENT VOICE QUAVER): Mr. Noir?

GK: Yes, sir. Have a seat. (DOOR CLOSE) What can I do for you?

TR: Mr. Noir, my name is Mitch Pritchett and, well, I don't know why but--- I'm trying to work up a comedy act for an Open Mic Night and I'm sort of nervous ---- actually, I'm about to lose my lunch ---- can you help me come up with some good jokes? I never told jokes before in my life.

GK: Why are you doing this, Mr. Pritchett?

TR: It's my girlfriend, Gina. She wants me to lighten up. Be funnier. Otherwise, goodbye.

GK: Open Mic Night at a club is the grimmest that life gets, Mr. Pritchett. It's like a multiple funeral service. What do you do for a living?

TR: I'm a funeral director. Assistant funeral director.

GK: Well, there's your material right there. Funerals. Endless supply of jokes.

TR: I never heard any.

GK: Like, "I'm sorry" and "I apologize" mean the same thing... but you shouldn't say, "I apologize" when you're at a funeral.

TR: Uh huh.

GK: Didn't grab you, huh. How about the funeral director who had to deal with the widow who changed her mind and wanted her husband buried in a blue suit and not a brown suit. That day a body was shipped in from Chicago, a guy in a blue suit. So----

TR: What? He switched suits?

GK: No, he switched heads.

TR: Ai-yi------- I can't tell that one.

GK: How about the one about Ole and Lena ---- when Ole dies, Lena calls up the funeral director and he asks for the address and she says, "433 Eucalyptus Avenue" and he says, "How do you spell it?" and she says, "How about I just drag him over to Maple Street and you can get him there?"

TR: Whoaaaaaaaa. I don't think so.

(STING, BRIDGE)

GK: I went down to the Five Spot where the Open Mic Night was being held (AMBIENCE).--What's going on, Jimmy? This used to be a nice bar. Why bring in comedians?

TR (JIMMY): Oh, hi, Guy. Hey, Monday nights are slow. So we're doing special events. Wet T-Shirt Night For Men Over 60. Comedy Night. Tomorrow night is Vacation Trip Slides Night.

GK: So I sat with a sarsaparilla and watched a few comedians.

FN: My wife says I drink too much. Or is it not enough? I forget. I keep a picture of her in my billfold and I keep tossing back the shots until she starts to look beautiful to me and I cry and then I go home. Anyway, I got loaded last night and I went down to the cemetery and I found Aaron's gravestone and I knelt there and I cried my eyes out. I never met him. He was my wife's first husband. I cried, "Why did you have to die??? Why? Why?"" Anyway. I suppose you're wondering why I'm wearing these pearl earrings. I've been wearing them ever since she found them in the front seat of my car.

GK: It was one amateur comedian after another.

TR (SLICK): You ever notice how men and women are different? Huh? It's something, hey? And what about this election, huh? You following that? Huh? Hey, did you hear about the nurse who caught Ebola-- that was quite a story. Right. Yeah, so the Giants won the World Series. I was in San Francisco once, back in the Sixties. Remember that? Hey. You hear about this I.S.I.S. bunch running loose in Iraq? You know what they say about Iraq. Right? Huh? Well, I see that the economy has been in the news lately. You know the difference between an economist and a circus clown? Do you?

GK: It was a quiet crowd at Amateur Comedy Night, watching other people suffer, glad it wasn't you up there.

SS: I am like really down, like in the pits, you know? I had to take the bus here tonight. The bus. Really. How many of you took the bus? Nobody. I had an '82 Chev with a rag for a gas cap and a Hefty bag in the passenger window which my boyfriend broke throwing beer bottles out, but anyway it drove okay, and then he sold the car. For gas money. Really. Then he sold the house to pay off the mortgage. What a dope. It's hard to believe he beat out 1,000,000 other sperm. So I was broke. I turned to the Bible for comfort and I opened it to Matthew, chapter 11. Get it? Chapter 11. Hello? Anybody here? I am a human being, you know---- I've got feelings ----- what's wrong with you people? You are really dumb, you know that? I stand up here, I can hear the ocean. Well, let me tell you ---- I am going to go far, and I'm starting right now. Bye! (STING)

TR (JIMMY): Go on up---- give it a shot, Guy.

GK: Naw.

TR (JIMMY): You'd be great. Go ahead.

GK: You think so?

TR (JIMMY): Tell em your duck-hunting story. Tell em the one about the Irishman at the cemetery. Tell em the Father Flanagan story.

GK: You're tempting me, Jimmy.

TR (JIMMY): They'll love it. They'll pee in their pants.

GK: And I was just about to do it and then----

FN (LADY): Hey----

GK: What?

FN (LADY): I can see you're just about to go onstage. Don't.

GK: Why not?

FN (LADY): You spilled your drink in your lap. You have a big wet spot on your pants.

GK: I turned ---- she was tall and beautiful, dressed in a silvery lame gown so tight you could follow the movement of red corpuscles in her bloodstream. You could see her ribs, all of them. She was a woman you wouldn't need to frisk her for weapons. Unless you really wanted to.

FN (LADY): So don't go up there, okay?

GK: Okay. I won't. Haven't I seen you someplace before?

FN (LADY): Yes, that's why I don't go there anymore.

GK: Can I buy you a drink?

FN (LADY): I think I'd rather have the money.

GK: Will you go out with me this Saturday?

FN (LADY): Sorry, I'm having a headache this weekend.

GK: So what do you do for a living?

FN (LADY): I'm a female impersonator.

GK: Really?

FN: Really.

GK: You're sure----

FN: Positive.

(THEME)

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 ---