Dopey Ducks
The three janitors (I'm sure you know their names) had just finished moving everything into the new office of Sam Spade. Sam Spade was a Private Eye and spent his days digging for information. It was his job to learn things and to do what he could for the betterment of others with that info.
Larry was finishing up with painting the glass to his office so everyone knew where Sam was. Moe and Shemp were inside with the many objects and furniture from his previous office.
"What a day," muttered Moe shaking the feather duster in his hand. "Movin' that guy all the way only from the thirteenth floor. Boy, but I am exhausted."
"Hope you didn't strain yourself carryin' the duster," stated Shemp with his arms full, walking over.
"Naw I can take it." (Of course; its featherweight). "Now go put that lamp over in the corner." Moe gestured with the duster, but Shemp inclined his head over the pile of stuff to the left.
"I think it oughta go up near that wall."
"The corner," glared Moe.
"The wall," protested Shemp.
"The corner."
"The wall." Moe grabbed a paper weight. DUNK! "The corner," calmly assented Shemp with a smile.
"That's better," said Moe. Then he placed the duster on top in front of Shemp's face. "Get busy now and don't drop anything." Shemp walked away, blind and struggling. (Dude, you don't put a dusty object in someone's face and not expect them to fail at the current task).
Moe went outside to check upon Larry. Larry was painting the glass (you obviously know this) but he was just finishing the final stroke: The underlining of the name; when Moe opened the door and walked out.
The end result? Moe was underlined right under the nose, above the lip. Larry just looked away to dip his brush again. (Is he blind?) Then he looked back. "A mustache," he noted, on Moe's surprised face. "What an improvement." He chuckled and Moe with him. (Surprising.)
"Oh paint," noted Moe with a smile. Then, "Whatta ya got in the hand?"
"Nothin'"-SPLAT! Larry was left spitting and a little shook from a handful (canful?) of paint dumped in his hands and then slapped in his face.
"AAAHHH-CHOOO!" BRASSHHH! KKKKKRRRSSHHH! BRRKKKRRSASSSHHHHH-BDNNGGG! All that Moe and Larry could see was a pile of stuff on the floor that was moving. (Moving.) Shemp slowly revealed himself from underneath with a goofy grin. "Sneezed." (Yeah and broke some of the furniture while you were at it.)
. . . . .
"Hey Larry," Moe said coming in the office followed by Shemp. Both wore business suits and hats. Larry however was still in his attire (a tire?) as a janitor. And, somehow, he was asleep in the middle of the room leaning upon the vacuum cleaner. (Was he asleep? How was he asleep?) They both took a closer look. Moe slapped the handle away. "Its five o' clock." No response, so he knocked his elbow.
"I'm up, I'm up," started Larry from where he had "leaned" in space. He knelt and got the cleaner from where it fell. While he did so, Shemp stared around the office.
(Staring, that's how the gears can start to turn in your head. So… don't.) "Gee," he smiled, "it must be great to be a private eye." He grimaced as if he were a "tough guy" and held his pocketed hands up as if they were six-shooters. "Yer rough an' yer tough. Ya gotta be ready for anythin'."
He calmly sat in the chair at the desk and continued his dreaming. "Ya always have a stubby little gun in the top draw'r jus' in case of trouble." (EEP! That was the look on his face.) But goodness, how many were inside this guy's top drawer? (And was that last one a water pistol? Pink at that?) "This guy's expectin' a lotta trouble." He reclined with that relaxed smile again. "But whatta life. You can just be sittin' here like this, when a beautiful dame rushes in. Desperate. Not knowin' where to turn."
A beautiful dame rushed in. Breathless. Looking like she had nowhere to go or was seeking safety. (Is this scripted, or being performed from a script? I can't tell from the camera angle here.)
She was blonde, dressed in dark blue, and very distressed. "Oh," she gasped hopefully at the sight of Shemp. She rushed over and quickly grabbed hold of him.
"I'm in dreadful trouble. I'm desperate. I don't know where to turn." (This simply has to be scripted. It's too perfect.)
"I'm sorry lady—"
"No, no, I won't take no for an answer! Strange men are following me!"
"They'd be strange if they didn't," Shemp replied with a chuckle, attempting to calm with a little humor. (The lady was pretty.)
She simply grimaced. "Don't you understand?! My life is in danger! Why, I can't make a move without—" She gasped. A shadow at the door! "Ah!" Shemp and Larry hugged each other before rushing unceremoniously with Moe out the door.
"What happened to 'im?" Bewildered Shemp.
"Where'd he go?" Confused Larry.
A quick huddle. "Spread out." In-Charge-Moe. Kad-d-d-d-unk! Command met by the others running head-first into the walls, then sliding away in a daze to search.
The three came rushing back together in front of the door. "What'd you find?" Moe asked.
"Nuthin'," was all Larry had to give. Shemp replied with a shake of his head and empty hands.
"Come on." He opened the door. "We couldn't find 'im lady…" The room was empty?! (I smell a plot device.)
"Now she disappeared," Larry yelped incredulously. (Dude. There're two doors leading into that room. Why can only I see that?)
"Oof," clunked the heads of Moe and Shemp. (What happens when you crawl under desks in search of missing people.)
Moe groaned and yanked Shemp up on his feet. "Darnit, when you make a right turn, put yer arm out," he said smacking Shemp because he gestured with his right in a wide arc.
"Hey fellas! She left her bracelets!" Larry said in surprise, having noticed the top of the desk.
"And a note," Moe said picking up the pad that had hurried writing on it. "Please help me. Take my jewels their all I have. Come to 257 Mortuary Road or it will be too late." "(Ain't that ominous.)
"We'd better help 'er." (Larry; ever straight, simple, and honest.)
"Okay, but we'll give her back her bracelets," said Moe taking them and placing them securely in his pockets. (Ain't you chivalrous.)
"This is my chance at being a private eye. That poor kid's in trouble," said Shemp. (Mister Obvious.)
"Well Sheer-Luck Duck how'd you handle the case?" said Moe. (Clearly doesn't believe in him. Me? Eh, no comment.)
"Easy," he smiled. "I'll use my wits." (Oh bruh-ther.)
"Now she's really in trouble," said Moe to Larry. (He can see you guys and hear you.)
"Oh yeah?" he reached into the drawer. "I outta let ya have it." (Um, my man, you're pointing an ink gun at Moe.)
"Well…" (Nobody breathe.)
"You can have it," said Shemp with a smile returning to his old self. (No Hyde.)
"Thanks." Tunk!
"H-OOH!" He pulled his hat off. "Look what ya did!" he moaned over the dent.
"I ain't finished."
Bwunk! "OOH!"
Moe grabbed a handful of both shirts. "Come on, git goin'."
"Whataminnit. Easy, easy." Shoving for Larry, pulling for Shemp with his dented hat.
Clunk. Poor Shemp; he ate a wall on the way out.