Wednesday, June 21, 2017

The Only Thing "New" Will Be A Fresh Schooling Of Dr. Oldschool

He caused my frittata to become a bit cold. What a jerk.

"I hope you can stop me, but I'm not sure you can, given how you've let yourselves go."

It was Wednesday morning. Reading what Clark had handed me - the warning letter from Dr. Oldschool (and in particular the above line) - I put down the forkful of frittata I was about to bite into, took a quick sip of mimosa, got up and ran to the restroom. 

Gazing in the mirror I said to myself: "I don't know what he's talking about. I haven't let myself go in the least."

I opened a cabinet door and pulled out a pair of Lobster Rage Fists. (Multiple pairs are stashed all over the Unbelieva-Base; you never know when a need may arise.) I attached them and looked in the mirror once more, striking a pose: "I'll show this Dr. Oldschool how we 'beat up some henchmen'" I thought.

Dr. Oldschool might have all manor of glowing dials and tubes
and levers and pulleys and various gadgets.
But ... does he have one weapons? I highly doubt it.

I stored the Fists and returned to my breakfast. An Unbelieva-Babe had freshened my mimosa while I had taken leave.

 This guy's supposedly giving us until Friday, huh?

"I'm not the least bit concerned," I thought as I picked up that bite of frittata once more.

After all ... we know what needs to be done. 

Monday, June 19, 2017

Everything old is new again

As is oddly standard procedure, we received a warning in the form of a letter this morning:
"Dear Unbelievables,
Look at how soft you've become. So comfortable in your routine, mundane lifestyle which now consists of attending Hollywood award shows and just wandering off for days at a time with no consequences. Sad!!
For your sake and the sake of those you are supposed to be serving and protecting, I have taken it upon myself to challenge you to get back to your butt-kicking roots. My name (for the sake of this premise) is Dr. Oldschool and you should see my laboratory. It's just filled with all manor of glowing dials and tubes and levers and pulleys and various gadgets. I have invented a beam ray that I will use to pull the moon from it's orbit and crash it into the Earth! Why? For no good purpose other than making you stop me. 
In order to do so, you won't be able outsource this to any of your silly little splinter groups or just punch a few things into a computer. You're going to have to drive fast, jump out of airplanes, do some skiing, beat up some henchmen, maybe kick me out of a window. All while wearing spectacular outfits. You know, like in the good ol' days! No mailboys, no "guest operatives", no lazy tricks. You're going to have to scale the walls of a compound, defuse some devices and maybe (hopefully) get your slacks dirty. Sorry, but this is for your own good (I'm actually a fan of yours; I hope you can stop me, but I'm not sure you can, given how you've let yourselves go). You have until Friday, and then it's Moon River, in that I will crash the moon into a river.
Dr. Oldschool"
Well, I think we know what needs to be done, right?

Friday, June 16, 2017

A Little Bit Of Mole Envy

Clark and I had a little chat post 'Stanford Student' interview at the Mole Fair ...

"I'm not so sure about this 'Stanford Student' ..." I noted after the applicant left.

Clark was shuffling paperwork, the applicant's resume and other necessaries for tax information and putting it in a file for later use. "Why not? He seems capable enough."

"I just don't see where he'll be of any use. He'll be languishing on the payroll, sitting around waiting for our call ..."

"So? It's not like he'll be hanging out at The Unbelieva-Base. You know moles aren't allowed there. Why the concern?"

"Well ... it's just that ..."


"Well, his 'claimed abilities.' I mean ... I'm irreverent. I've got a playful-yet-sarcastically-biting lack of respect for authority. I'm even kinda funny under the right circumstances. Under a ton of circumstances ... and you know that."

"Funny looking, maybe ..."

"What? Hardly?.Who's got the combined good looks of Ian McShane and a young Cliff Robertson, huh? This guy ... that's who." I thumbed my thumb my way, boastfully.

My uncanny resemblance to Cliff Robertson and Ian McShane is ... well, uncanny.

Clark looked at me sternly. "Oh. My. Gosh. You're jealous, aren't you? You're jealous of a newly hired mole we're not even certain we're going to use in the field! Come on! What ... you think we'd ever pit you or compare your credentials and character against any of the hired help? Hell no! No way! We're a team, the three of us! You, Jeff and me. That's never going to change! Truth be told, I just liked the ungapotchkin the dude's got. You've got to give it up to a guy who looks like a crooked Christmas tree with marshmallow eyes and Botox-infused lips who calls himself 'Stanford Student.' Am I right?" 

Clark bowed his head and looked me straight in the eye.

"Am I right ... ???"

"I guess ..." I conceded.

"Good. And look: How many villains do you really think are going to pop up with roots at Cal or Iowa where we can employ the guy? Besides, the contract he signed has him working on commission anyway, so our financial obligation is practically nil. That should cheer you up ..."

Clark had a point there.

"Now, I don't want to hear any more whining about him. Got it?"

"Ooooooooooooooookay ..." I conceded.

"Good. We're done here anyway. Let's vamoose. Hey ... you know what will cheer you up? A good old fashioned game of nude volleyball, just you and me and eight Unbelieva-Babes. We'll be captains! Whaddaya say ... ?!?"

Clark sure knows how to turn a frown upside down, you know?

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Some of the new moles

"And the guys? Well, they're relieved to have me back in the fold, so to speak. I'll let them tell you about some other new recruits later in the week."
Ironically, without knowing what Jeff was up to last week, we hosted a Mole Fair (a job fair for moles) at the Stilleto Falls Galleria mall.
This year's turnout: underwhelming
We didn't get as many applicants as we might have liked. I think the prevailing mindset of "snitches get stitches" has probably had an effect. That would be okay, since quality is often preferable to quantity anyway. But many of the applicants who did show up insisted on doing so as their "super hero" identities. For this, I blame the popularity of movies like "The Avengers" and "Wonder Woman." That's fine, I guess, but running around in an attention-grabbing rubber suit is not the best way to do the job of a mole. Here are some of the candidates who showed up and that we hired, reluctantly, on a conditional basis:

Claimed abilities: Furiously angry, very heated
Presumed actual abilities: Annoyed (annoying), uncomfortably sweaty
Where we'll probably use him/her: To infiltrate groups that complain about the weather

Claimed abilities: "!"
Presumed actual abilities: Burpees; Also, apparently popular with cheerleaders
Where we'll probably use him/her: To infiltrate hot yoga studios

Claimed abilities: Irreverence, playful-yet-sarcastically-biting lack of respect for authority
Presumed actual abilities: Kinda funny, under the right circumstances
Where we'll probably use him/her: To infiltrate any groups of villains with roots at Cal or Iowa

Claimed abilities: Delicious, in spite of appearance
Presumed actual abilities: Doubtful
Where we'll probably use him/her: Salad bars and other places where people eat things they hate

Claimed abilities: Weird, not clearly understood icon of Mardi Gras
Presumed actual abilities: Weird, not clearly understood
Where we'll probably use him/her: To infiltrate giant cakes

Claimed abilities: "I'm strong and fast, bro!"
Presumed actual abilities: Acne, blurred vision, cataracts or glaucoma, easy bruising, difficulty sleeping, high blood pressure, increased appetite, weight gain, increased growth of body hair, etc.
Where we'll probably use him/her: Gyms, where "supplements" are easier to obtain than treadmills.

Monday, June 12, 2017

Welcome To The Gang

Alright, fellas. Allow me to explain my sudden and unexpected absence last week. It was one of those last-minute situations. I didn't even have time to grab my laptop or even my tablet. Hence the old-fashioned telegram.

I was called away suddenly to a top-secret location on the South Coast of the UK, a location that is hidden in plain sight, disguised as a holiday resort, replete with three hotels and bars and restaurants. The people that vacation there are blissfully unaware of its alternate use as one of the bases (refueling stations, if you will) for members of our vast network of moles and informants and other 'special ops' folk from the entertainment world.

The reason for my being there was two-fold. Firstly I was there to meet our point-man PG, known to millions of adoring under-5's as TV's Mister Maker.

Every year, children and parents flock to said holiday resort (as well as many theatres) to see their arty TV hero and his sidekicks, The Shapes, perform for them live on stage.

I took in his show and met up with him afterwards to discuss developments on a hush-hush matter. Now - I told you my reason for meeting him was twofold. The second reason was that he was going to help me introduce some new recruits to the fold - a group of performers known as The Skyline Gang!

The Skyline Gang with a fan during one of their frequent photo opportunities. Clockwise from top left: Pip the rock chick, Rainbow the dog, Sprout, who always likes a laugh, Bud, the resident boffin; Dude, who's always in the mood for a game of basketball, Mimi, the self-absorbed cutie; Candi, who thinks it would be dandy if everything in the world was pink (I'm not making this up); and Misty, the mischievous one. Truth be told, my heart went a-flutter when I met Misty - she's not only hot, but naughty too, and you know I have a thing for bad girls.
The Skyline Gang have their own lines of clothing and toys and books, etc. They are clearly masters of disguise and they look different in every picture, which we told them was a useful asset in avoiding suspicion when on a case.

So there, in a nutshell, is the full story. Well, not quite.

While I was there, I spotted two operatives of the nefarious David The Gnome gang pretending to be mere garden ornaments by a flowing stream.

I immediately put the gang on high alert to watch these guys for any suspicious activity, then after thanking the Skyline Gang - Sprout, Mimi, Candi, Rainbow, Bud, Dude, Pip and most especially the lovely Misty -  and Mister Maker for their hospitality, I hot-footed it back to the Unbelievabase.

Hopefully this means that now the South Coast of the UK is under even greater protection than before.

And the guys? Well, they're relieved to have me back in the fold, so to speak. I'll let them tell you about some other new recruits later in the week.

Friday, June 9, 2017

What to do, what to do?

This is not the first time one of us has gone missing. I'm pretty sure it won't be the last. As such, we have two established protocols in place for when it happens. The hard part being, which one to use?

  • PLAN A: Go get him (whomever the 'him' is)
  • PLAN B: Wait for him to come home

PLAN A - Pros:
  • Gets us out of the house
  • Usually resolves the situation quickly
PLAN A - Cons:
  • Lots and lots of detective work
  • Might not even be a dangerous situation
  • Gas prices

PLAN B - Pros:
  • Allows us to stay planted on the couch
  • The couch is super-comfy
PLAN B - Cons:
  • Might be an extremely dangerous situation
  • Somebody might die
So, what are we going to do?
That's an excellent question.

Thursday, June 8, 2017

Jeff Didn't Tell Us He'd Be On Assignment ...

... Wednesday at The Unbelieva-Base ...

"Clark ... have you seen this?"


"This note from Jeff. Well ... it's not a note exactly. It's a telegram ..."

"From Jeff?"


"Who sends telegrams anymore?"

"Jeff, apparently. But ... the weird thing is it's written as if it were addressed to the general public."

"How do you mean?"

"It says 'Hi folks ... Jeff here' ... and then it says he's on a 'secret mission' and the details will be revealed next week ..."

"Damn. That's really weird. And you say it's from Jeff?"

"Yep ..."

"Sounds fishy."

"You're telling me. A bit loosey goosey if you ask me."

"Kind of like when you answer the door without pants ..."