Deborah Diamond, Private Eye
(A Short Play)
Parts: Voiceover
Deborah Diamond, Private Eye
Hank, the Aggrieved Party
Lou, A Mafioso
Olga, hot
Russian bitch
VOICEOVER: In the city of sleepless nights, there exists a world most never see. A world of lawlessness, a world of treachery bereft of sunshine, a world full of hucksters and mildly corrupt Republican businessmen. And those that can’t turn to the law, turn to Deborah Diamond, Private Eye.
(Lights on, Deborah is sitting at a desk, trying to solve a Rubik’s cube.)
DEBORAH:
(continuing the voiceover) It was 2 in the morning, and I was having another sleepless night. The cube was mocking me. I’m a private detective, and I can’t even solve a piece of plastic. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
(We hear a knock at the door. Hank enters.)
HANK: Hello?
DEBORAH: And the
stuff of dreams walked through my door. He was in trouble. And he was a
hunk -- piercing eyes, dreamy
buttocks, and legs that went
all the way to the floor.
HANK: Excuse me? Were you talking to someone?
DEBORAH: No, sorry. What can I help you with?
HANK: I’ve lost my
monkey.
DEBORAH: Isn’t it attached?
HANK: No, not
my monkey. My monkey.
(holds up a picture of a monkey) I’ve lost my
pet monkey Vladimir.
DEBORAH: Lost?
Or Stolen?!
HANK: I just don’t know, Miss Diamond. I just don’t know. That’s why I need your help.
(getting all weepy) You will help me, right?
DEBORAH: Of course,
you poor thing. We’ll start stirring the shit
tomorrow and work our way up. We’ll have your monkey in no time. Or E. Coli. One of the
two.
HANK: Oh that’s
super. I knew you’d help! If we find my monkey, I’ll be so grateful.
DEBORAH: Don’t you worry your
pretty little head about a thing. Not a thing.
(Lights out. Lights back on. A mobster is sitting at a desk counting money, with a cigar in his mouth.)
LOU: Who knew
liquor and
whores could be so
profitable?!
(Enter Deborah, followed by Hank.)
LOU: Well, well, well, if it isn’t the dark double x side of the
law?
DEBORAH: Can the pleasantries, you
snake. I’m here on
business. Your business. The business of monkeys.
LOU: Monkeys? I don’t deal in monkeys. We’re purely a
beaver affiliated establishment.
HANK: No, my monkey. Vladimir.
(shows the picture)
LOU: That’s a nice monkey you’ve got yourself there. It’d be a
shame if anything happened to it.
Baboon?
HANK:
Emperor Tamarin.
LOU: It’s hard to tell without the pink
ass.
(Deborah reaches across the table, grabs Lou by the tie, and pulls him halfway across the desk.)
DEBORAH: Enough with the chit-chat. You’re not being
frank with us.
LOU:
(being strangled) Of course not, I’m
Lou!
DEBORAH:
Cute. Now check for the monkey.
LOU:
(still being strangled, screaming) Olga!
(Enter Olga, hot Russian bitch.)
OLGA: Yes, darling? You appear to be having troubles breazing. Should I call zee
boys? In
Russia we know how to handle zeese
problems.
(Deborah releases Lou, he composes himself in his chair.)
LOU: No, this has
just been a misunderstanding between old
friends. Also, I’m kind of
afraid of her.
DEBORAH:
(to Olga) So, do you have any monkeys?
OLGA: Monkeys? No. Vee have some
apes here, but zey’re all related to Lou. And no monkeys to speak of.
HANK: Wait. You’re in business with the
Soviets?
LOU: Well, that’s really none of your…
OLGA: Hah! Russians, yes. But no
Marxists. Is bad for business. Dialectical materialism
has no place in honest commercial enterprises like this one.
DEBORAH: Of course not. We don’t
tolerate that sort of thing in George Bush’s
America. Come on Hank, we’re
barking up the wrong tree here. It looks like your Monkey’s leapt the urban jungle for greener
arboreal retreats. It seems we've tried everything, short of
respectable alternatives, which are
no alternatives at all. I’ll keep looking, but don’t get your
hopes up, kid.
HANK: Thanks, Deborah. I'll never
forget what you've tried to do for me.
(They embrace, it seems like something more will happen, but then Hank pulls away...)
HANK: Oh, my
monkey!
(Hank runs out. Lights out. Lights back on, Deborah is once again seated at her desk, trying to solve the Rubik‘s cube.)
VOICEOVER: Three weeks had passed, and Deborah had almost
forgotten about the case. Even Hank’s dreamy buttocks seemed like a distant
memory.
DEBORAH:
(continuing the voiceover) Three weeks passed, and I’d almost forgotten about the case, and Hank’s dreamy buttocks seemed like a distant memory.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
(We hear a knock at the door. Hank enters.)
HANK: Hey, I thought you might want to
know what happened to my monkey.
DEBORAH: I had been wondering. He seemed to
like me before you ran off.
HANK: Not that monkey, my monkey Vladimir.
DEBORAH:
Oh.
HANK: I got this
postcard from him today.
(Hank hands her a postcard.)
DEBORAH: Run off to lead the
PLF?
HANK:
Primate Liberation Front.
DEBORAH: Oh. What about your other monkey?
HANK: He’s been
shy lately. But I’d really like to
introduce you two.
DEBORAH: Quit being
coy and get over here, you big piece of
man-meat.
(She slams the cube on the desk. Hank runs towards her and they start making out. Lights out.)