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) 

It was a night in November. November 23rd in fact. I remember the date because it was my birthday. The snow birds that had started to flock from their summer homes had long since retired for the evening and the godfearing people of Phoenix had closed shop. My two lovely companions and I were looking for a place to fill our bellies. Like moths to a flame we were attracted to a dim light coming from a dark parking lot. We exited the car.

"Are you going to Mama Mia's?"

A beautiful petite girl with the kind of body men write home about stepped out of the shadows. I was going wherever she took me.

We were led through the kind of kitchen you only see in mob movies. I wasn't going to ask what they put in the sausage.

We stepped in and figured out our toppings. Trying to figure out toppings for one pizza between three people you may as well be figuring out cold fusion with a box of toothpicks and some masking tape. But with the plethora of options I felt like I had a bag of bananas in a monkey whore house and we narrowed it to basil and fresh tomato.

The pizza was exactly what a tired and famished private eye like myself needed on a night like this.

Man working  register- "Is that a wig?"

Jetta-" Yeah its a wig."

We left the pizza joint as happy as a twister in a trailer park.

Jetta- "I am so getting a weave."

 (THEME MUSIC)

 A dark night in the city that knows how to keep its secrets, but a light shines on the 12th floor of the Acme Building -- Guy Noir, Private Eye?. (THEME UP AND OUT)