Raiders of the Lost Lunchbox

Scene: A dusty, thirties style building.  In the office up on the
thirteenth floor a couple of detectives begin the exhausting work
that makes up their lives....

Dy: You have a three?

Saf: Go fish.

[Dy, grumbling, picks up a card from the deck on the top of the
desk.  Saf, rearranging her cards, leans back in her chair and
puts her feet up on the desk.  A ceiling fan creaks overhead.]

Saf: Do you have an eight?

Dy: [suspicious] Eight or ace?

Saf: Which one you got?

[Dy glares]

Saf: Just kidding, just kidding.  Eight.

[Dy hands over three eights.]

Saf: Woohoo! Four of a kind! [she puts the book of cards down on
the table.]

[There is suddenly a knock at the door.]

Saf&Dy: Yes?

[Claire, their secretary, enters.  She hands Dy an envelope.]

Dy: Oh, the electric bill's in.

Saf: [looking suspiciously at Claire] Why do you always give all
the bills to her? Don't you trust me?

[Claire looks confused.  Dy does not.]

Dy: You once "accidently" spent the rent on Backstreet Boys
cards, remember?

Saf: [looking fondly into the distance] Oh, yeah.  But that was a
long time ago.  Besides, I gave you all the Brian ones.

Dy: That's because you don't like Brian!

Saf: [shrugs] It's all water under the bridge.

[Dy, grumbling, opens the bill and reads it.  She then signs a
check and hands it all back to Claire.]

Claire: [starts to leave, then stops.] Oh yeah, I think there was
a phone call for you guys yesterday.

[Both detectives sit up, Saf swinging her feet off of the desk.]

Dy: Really?

Saf: What was the message?

Claire: [confused] There was a message?

[Saf whimpers.]

Dy: [patiently] The phone call.  Did they leave a message?

Claire: [thinking] You know, I think they might have.  I was too
busy thinking about painting all the balloons in the world blue
to remember where I put it, though.  I'll have to check.  [she
starts to leave.]

Dy: Thanks, Claire.

Saf: [after Claire is gone] Um, Dy, I know she's your sister and
all, but, uh, don't you think we should get someone a little
*less* weird?

Dy: She gets the job done.

Saf: Only between weird little projects! I'm still recovering
from the home-made incense incident!

Dy: I know she's a little odd, but she's got to keep herself
busy, you know.

Saf: [head in hands] God knows there's not enough--

Dy: [exclaiming in loud voice] Claire! [Claire pokes her head
around the door.]

Claire: There's no point in giving you the message.

Saf: [confused] Why not?

Claire: Because she's here! [Claire leaves]

Saf: [whimpers] Dy...

[A woman enters.  She's dressed in a beige skirt and shirt.  She
has a fur stole and veiled hat.]


Woman: Hello.  My name is Bento.  Bento Aino.

Saf: [holds out hand, while jumping to her feet.] Woohoo! A
client! I mean, nice to meet you.

[Bento shakes Saf's hand while Dy offers her a seat.  She sits
down.]

Bento: I came to ask you about...uh...

Saf&Dy: Yes...?!

Bento: I forgot.

Dy: That's okay, we've got all day--oof! [Saf elbows her in the
ribs and gives her a Significant Look.]  I mean, we're very
popular dectectives at the moment, Miss Aino....

Bento: Okay, I remember!

Saf: Yes...?

Bento: No, wait.

[Saf and Dy fall to the fall, groaning in a comic manner.]

Bento: Hold it.  I'm missing something...that's it...

[Saf and Dy get up, dusting themselves off.]

Saf: [muttered] Marbles?

Dy: Come on, Saf.  What are you missing, Miss?

Bento: I remember, now.  I'm missing my lunchbox.

[Dy and Saf exchange looks.]

Saf: Have you tried Lost and Found?

Bento: No, see, it's a *special* lunchbox.  

[She stops, appearently finished explaining.  Dy looks confused. 
Saf whimpers again.]

Dy: What kind of lunchbox, exactly, is it? Is it the kind with
the matching Thermos? I could understand how you could be upset--

Saf: Dy! Now, Miss Bento, what exactly is so special about this
lunchbox that you need private detectives?

Bento: [thinking] Well, it's magical, for one thing.  Also, the
mob is after it.  Possibly also Nazis.  I'm not sure, exactly. 
The time zone of this area seems to be really messed up.


Saf: Yeah, that's the effect of the Fanfic Zone.  It covers most
of the city.  It allows us to be set roughly in the thirties-
fourties, but to bring in any elements from the ninties that we
need.

Dy: It can really be easily explained by using Euclidean Geometry
combined with a form of the Relativity theory as outlined by--

[Saf zones out, her eyes growing vacant and glassy.  Bento tries
to follow the technobabble, but ends up falling asleep on her
feet]

Dy: --which really contradicts Hawking's postulates on the
matter, but...hey! Are you guys listening to me?!

[Saf snaps out of her stupour]

Saf: No! I didn't mean to spill that coffee...uh...what happened?
[She notices Dy glaring at her.] Oh no! I must have blacked out
again! Darn this narcolepsy! [She giggles nervously, eyes
shifting wildly.  Dy is Not Amused.]

Bento: Huh? What? Where am I? [she wakes up] Omigod, you're the
detectives! What was I saying?

Saf: You were telling us about this strange, *magical* lunchbox. 
That's wanted by the mob.  Also Nazis.

Bento: Ah, yes.  Well, anyway, I can't exactly remember *why*
it's magical, or so important to me, but I do know it's worth an
exorbitant amount of money.

Dy: Sounds good.  We'll take the case.

Saf: Uh, excuse me, Dy.  I thought I had a voice in this
partnership.

Dy: You have a problem with this case?

Saf: No, but I would've liked to discuss it first--ow! [Dy swats
Saf on the shoulder.]

Dy: [To Bento, as if Saf hadn't spoken.] We'll take the case.

Scene: Outside of the office.  Claire is sitting reading her
magazine, her legs up on her desk.  Dy is waiting expectantly.

Saf: ...And, Claire? Try and take messages while we're out.

[Claire looks up from her magazine.]

Claire: Take them where?

Saf: [whimpering] Never mind.

Dy: Come on, Saf.  Let's go.

Saf: I'm driving! [She makes a run for the door.]

Dy: Hey! Wait a second! You can't drive, remember?

[Saf slides to a halt.]

Saf: Yes, I can.  This is a *fanfic*, remember?

Dy: Oh.  Right.  Then I call shot gun!

Scene: The fearless detectives are sitting in the car.  The car
is parked at the curb outside of the office.

Dy: Where are we *going*, exactly?

Saf: I thought you knew...

Dy: I was following *you*!

Saf: [Sulking] Well, this is just great, isn't it?

[Dy starts to say something when two boys pass by on the
sidewalk.]

Boy #1: So then I said, obviously it's worth something if both
the Mob *and* Nazis are after it.

Boy #2: But why would they bother keeping it in the motel on King
street? Isn't that a little unsafe? I mean, any one could just
walk in and grab it.

Boy #1: [Shrugs] I didn't say they were *smart*.  What are you
asking me, for? I'm just an extra.

[They walk off.  Saf and Dy grin at each other.]

Saf: Praise be to the writer! [She starts the car, and they drive
off].

Scene: The lobby of the King Street Motel.  Saf and Dy saunter
in.  There is a desk, with the owner lounging behind it, chewing
absent-mindedly.

Saf: Hello.  We're...uh, looking for a room.

Owner: Uh huh.  [He sighs, then flips a key at them].  You're
lucky, one just opened up.  Room 12.  That'll be--hey! Where are
you going?

[Saf, meanwhile, now that's she's got the keys, has been edging
her way towards the hallway.  She shoves Dy in front of her.]

Saf: [hissing] Stall for time!

Dy: Uh...say, did you know that there's a most interesting smell
in your lobby?

[The owner scowls.]

Saf: [still hissing] Something diffferent! I know, tell him about
your new theory!

Dy: [perking up] Oh, you mean the how I discovered the relative
similarity between the hypotenuse and the sum of--

[The owner's eyes droop.  He stops chewing the phantom food.  He
starts to lean forward.]

Dy: --Which, really, when you compare that to the Key of G minor
(as played by a bassoon) means that there is a constant rate of--

[The owner falls to the desk, asleep]

Dy: --contrary to the writings of mathematician Bernard the Mad,
who was also a fan of the work of George The Slightly Nutty, who
said that--

Saf: [Her fingers in her ears] Way to go, Dy! Let's get going!

Dy: [trails to a halt] Hey! He wasn't listening! Where are you
going? What's going on? Hey!

Saf: [pulling on Dy's arm] Come *on*! He's not going to be asleep
for forever! [Stops.] On the other hand...he very well could
be...

Dy: [irritatedly] Okay, let's just get going.