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.