In A New Jersey State of Mind

Feast your eyes, folks. This is the ad we should be paying attention to. The one that Clark shared on Wednesday was just a cover, and after some surreptitious and judicious investigation, we found that all the rogues in Wednesday's gallery of hirsute horribles also ordered product from the address above, in East Orange, NJ.

So we trekked across the continent to said address, and what should we find?

A coin-op laundry, no less.

So we decided to go in and inquire as to the whereabouts of the owner, and why a laundry would be advertising fake facial hair.

The surly counterstaff at first ddn't want to tell us anything, but after a little persuasion from our friend George (Washington, that is) we got to meet the owner. Or so we thought...

This was getting good. Tony "Monobrow" McGee was well known to us as a petty crook and lightbulb salesman, but we never figured he'd get himself mixed up in the lip-rug game. But, looking back, I guess it makes sense.

"What's the game, lads?" he cried as he saw who he was dealing with. "I ain't done nuffin', I swears to ya." Did I mention he was a New Jersey cockney?

"A likely story," interjected Clark. "What's the deal with the fake face furs, eh? Eh? EH!!??"

"Oh, is that wot this is about, lads? Calm dahn, no need to lose yer rag. Lemme just explain, it's all completely innocent, above board. I got me boney-fridays and everyfink, innit?" At this he produced from a drawer beneath the counter his business documents. Sure enough - he was licensed, bonded AND insured.

"Hmmm. Looks like he's on the level," said Michael, trying to sound like a hardboiled cop (New Jersey tends to have that effect on people), "but still, I think we should have a look around."

As it turned out, we never got the chance, because at that moment, the front door opened and who should saunter in but these two...

Mr. Waverly, sans Pith helmet. Handy with a machete.

Papa Dolmio, pitch man for Dolmio sauces. Handy with a ripe tomato.

I had seen enough. 

"Cuff'em and stuff'em boys," I barked (see what I said about New Jersey rubbing off on a person?), "and book'em, Danno, whatever that means!"

Once we had all three mustachioed villains in custody, we turned them over to the Feds. 

Unfortunately, Waverly and McGee were let go, because they couldn't find anything they'd done wrong.

And Papa Dolmio? Sent down for a long stretch. His crime? Crimes against the Italian language, including casual racism and playing a stereotype. As were his entire family. Need proof?

And the connection between foul fiends and hirsute hairiness? Search me!