Disc delights and disasters

Not a complaint really, but being The Unbelievables means we often don't have time for many of life's simple joys. One of those pleasing pastimes is simply whiling away the hours by browsing the local record stores. Even when it's time to throw one of our Unbelieva-bashes, there's so much work that goes into the guest list, the menu and the post-affair accommodations (ahem) that we have to dispatch interns to pick up new music... and of course there has to be new music. Can you imagine someone attending one of our shindigs and complaining that they'd heard a tune or two before? The horror! No, in order to avoid that party foul, we often have to cram a wad of bills into some intern's cold sweaty palm and send them off. Their instructions are always simple: "1) Sexy 2) Girls", yet somehow they still manage to mess it up. Here are some choices the interns have made over the years, some of which that brought a few Unbelievable shindigs to a premature and immediate end.

Ah! Classic! Perfect! Well done, whomever it was that bought this one! I'm sure we wrote a stellar evaluation on your half, thanks to this!

Augh. No. Terrible. You got the gist of the assignment but you didn't apply any taste to it. This is too blatant. We like subtlety. Foreplay begins in the mind, you know. Much sexier that way. This is a  failure.

Much more like it! See? Very subtle. Plus, this album is slammin' . Good work!

Again, utter lack of subtlety. Plus, you know we are sticklers for fair play and follwoing the rules. In what sanctioned boxing match would anything pictured in this scenario EVER happen? Come on!

On the surface, at first sight, not bad. But ukeleles? No. No ukeleles.

There is such a thing as following our instructions too literally and this is it. We didn't have a  party for three years after this showed up on our turntable.

Flight of the Conchords - What does that even mean?

Yes, Jeff is correct; Bret and Jermaine are field operatives. But it doesn't matter how much critical acclaim and popularity your satirical folk music combo receives, when it comes to The Unbelievables, you've got to earn your way into the ranks by starting at the very bottom. And that means that once upon a time, they were interns.



Picking up snacks for that case that required us to stake out Medieval Times.
Good work, boys.

 While serving in that capacity, Bret and Jermaine apparently became enamored with some of the code language we have to use during missions. Let us not forget, we're involved in some very serious business here. It's a world of ever-present threat to life and limb in the form of guns, knives, swords, bombs and martial arts, where your first mistake will in all likelihood be your last. With that in mind, we developed a code language so we can communicate in the heat of battle without giving away tactical info to our enemies. I can't stress this enough; if we're not absolutely perfect, people die! This is serious stuff!

This is a fairly common occurrence in our world.

Anyway, without giving away too much, "flight" is the code word for "quickly obtain" and "conchord" is the code word for "high-quality champagne". So "Flight of the Conchords" would basically be "hurry up and go get us some champagne, the good stuff; not that carbonated toilet wine you chuckleheads brought back last time". I guess Bret and Jermaine must have heard that phrase once or twice (or twenty-seven times) and took a fancy to it. We're honored but let's hope this doesn't become a trend. We simply can't have the real meaning of "Hoobastank" getting out.

We have nothing to fear but fear itself. And lots of other stuff but mostly fear.

You know what really pills our sweaters? We (Jeff, Michael and I) got into this business of international do-goodery to meet women and improve people's quality of life and meet women. By fending off bad guys, we wanted people to sleep peacefully at night, secure in the knowledge that the forces of good were out there, ever vigilant and prepared to defend them. However, in spite of our best efforts, some people are more afraid than ever. Fear breeds distrust, distrust breeds anxiety and anxiety keeps us from getting our 40 winks at night. This is terribly disappointing as it renders our efforts completely ineffectual.

Well, maybe not completely ineffectual.

Now, we're not saying the world is hunky dory and that there aren't legitimate things out there to worry about. Bees, bears and beer snobs all still exist and pose a significant threat to our well-being and state of not being annoyed. But this idea of having pre-formed, negative, fear-based opinions of people and ideas with which we're not familiar or comfortable? That's counter-productive and unnecessary, folks. Granted, there are bad people out there and there's merit to being cautious sometimes. However, for the most part, we're all the same in that we just want some activity that keeps us busy and for which we're fairly compensated, something to eat and a place where we and our loved ones can feel warm and dry. That's basically it. These irrational fears prevent us from working together for the sake of the common good.

In order to get this message out, we have dispatched Dave, one of our best and brightest interns from our training academy in Jenga Falls, Montana, to implement and oversee a grass-roots, portable sign-based awareness campaign.

Say hi to Dave, everybody.

This sign is America-centric (we're starting in America because this is where we're headquartered and this, let's face it, is where we need the most work) but it's a global initiative. I'll let the guys tell you about some of our efforts in this campaign.

The Case of King Cotton (part 3)

As much fun as it was to put a savage beating on Henri Petit...just like it always is...we weren't really that much closer to finding King Cotton and shutting him down. We headed back to The Unbelieva-base to go over some clues with our team of research interns and come up with our next move.



"We just whipped up a fresh round of 'clues', boys. The next move is yours!"

 That's when our neighbor and landlord Marissa Rapier, proprietor of Miss Riss's Home for Wayward Showgirls, popped in. She's always a big fan of our sausage parties and had been in attendance at the one where this whole caper first unfolded. We sat on the plush couches surrounding our indoor fire pit (of course we have an indoor fire pit) and just threw the facts of the case out at each other. Marissa listened thoughtfully and chimed in with, "I remember bright red weinies being sold in grocery stores in Georgia. I haven't seen them here in Nevada. Is there a connection to the South?" We stopped, sat up straight and looked at one another. Then we burst out laughing.
Michael: "Wow, way to pin down a specific location, Marissa!"
Jeff: "Yeah, we'll just head in that direction until we hear banjos and then start knocking on doors: 'Hi, is this The South? If so, does King Cotton live here?'. Ha ha ha!"
Clark: "Seriously, Marissa! A connection between The South and anything relating to cotton? Where do you come up with this stuff?"



Highlighted: The neighborhood where Marissa thinks we should look for King Cotton.

 We laughed and laughed and laughed some more. Then, when we finally settled down, Michael said, "You guys want to beat up Henri Petit again?". Naturally, we did so we said yes and went back to Baltimore to do that.



"Aw, leave me alone, will ya?"

 The point is, we still haven't solved the mysterious case of King Cotton and his mind-altering red weiners. We'll get around to it eventually though.

Why, Michael, why?!?

At a press conference with two unknown interns. Our reactions to queries from the press tend to vary wildly.

I know Michael hinted that Jeff and I would tell you why he is leaving The Unbelievables ...

" ... my days as one of The Unbelievables are at an end. The boys will tell you why ..."

... but we're not even sure why ourselves.

Basically, I guess it comes down to Michael wanting to live a "normal" life. A normal life being where instead of being part of a collective of stylish gentlemen whose mere appearance could inspire throngs of women to swoon and scream in rapturous delight, you become a solitary formerly stylish gent who now inspires those same throngs to threaten to cut themselves on Twitter.

Hey, we may not agree with it or even understand it, but it's Michael's decision and out of respect for our teammate, we must abide. I think Jeff and I will be fine, whether we decide to bring in a replacement or make a go of it as a duo. We are going to try to soldier on while Michael gets another job, presumably in an industry that is far less tolerant of showing up at work sans pants, I guess. I just hope he knows what else he'll be giving up. For instance, there will be no more of this...

Or this...

Or these...

Forget about this...

Okay, granted, that's not a big loss. But...

No more situations like this...

And definitely say good-bye to this...


Good luck and godspeed, Michael. We hope you know what you're doing. I'm not sure you do, though.

Coming soon: UnbelievaLand!

One thing that many of our adoring fans from all over the world are always requesting is a tour of the Unbelieva-base. For obvious reasons, we simply can't honor those requests. However, we've come up with something we think you'll enjoy even more: our own theme park, UnbelievaLand! Located in Camisole Heights, Nevada, a nearby suburb of Stiletto Flats, the park will have a number of features that are sure to appeal to Unbelievables fans of all ages! Let's take a sneaky peak, shall we? 

A sign just like the one outside of the real Unbelieva-base greets you at the front gate. An ideal location for photo oportunities.

The Unbelieva-Tram will bring you from the parking lot to the front gate. Unlike your standard amusement park tram, this one does 85 mph and features bullet-proof tires, front-mounted machine guns and the can convert into a submarine. It's also outfitted with ejector seats, so when the driver says keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle, you'd better do it.

One of our techs will show you how to operate one of our actual computers. Calculate complex math equations! Conduct searches and print out the results! Send electronic mail! Dial into a web of other computers located all over the whole wide world and exchange information!

The small fry will love climbing into the Henri Petit ball pit and just going crazy. Go ahead, kids kick those balls. Grab 'em, smash 'em, throw 'em around. It's okay!

Take a look at some of our sweet rides in the Unbelieva-garage!

Take a look at some of our sweet threads in the Unbelieva-Closet!

The crew of our private jet will demonstrate a few of the amazing features of this incredible plane. You can even kick back in one of the seats and watch some case videos (be kind, please rewind).

One of the best features of the park is that will be functional enough to actually serve as an auxiliary base of operations and we plan on being there frequently to conduct actual Unbelievables business. One thing we will definitely be doing there is conducting our initial searches for prospective interns, as seen here. 

There's so much more to this Sexiest Place On Earth (that slogan has yet to be officially approved). I'll leave it to the fellas to highlight some aspects I may have missed.

Hook, line and sinker

By now, you're probably familiar with some of our sub-departments, like The Unbelievababes, our (poorly managed) mailroom and our interns. One department that doesn't get attention, due largely to the stealthy nature of the work they perform, is The Unbelievabaits. I'm going to go ahead and reveal some info about these brave crimefighters because I'm pretty sure most of our foes are still too stupid to resist falling for them every time, even with the knowledge that they exist.

"Stop right there, you sexist boob! We see where you're going with this sexist practice", some of you are saying. "Using attractive young women to entice evildoers is not just sexist, it's really sexist!" Yes, it would be...if that were the case. But The Unbelievabaits are actually males! Male actors, to be specific, committed so deeply to their craft that they're masters of emulating the female form like the earliest Shakespearean thespians.
Here they are, off duty...

They insist on dressing like this during their downtime. I don't know.

Pictured L to R: Ian, Nigel, Clive, Arthur, Philip, Mookie, Pete, William, George, Jonathan, Phillip, Austin, Craig, Roger, Paul, Darren, Gregor, Stanley, Otto and Glenn.

And here they are, ready for a mission...

Pictured L to R: Ian, Nigel, Clive, Arthur, Philip, Mookie, Pete, William, George, Jonathan, Phillip, Austin, Craig, Roger and Paul

Pictured L to R: Darren, Gregor, Stanley, Otto and Glenn.

Remarkable, isn't it? We just get a couple of the boys here to stroll through a bad guy's hideout or even when they're in the middle of committing an actual crime and they lose all focus (the bad guys, not the Unbelievabaits). It's no wonder that the likes of a Negative Charge or Henri Petit might be led astray and knocked off their game. Of course, all 20 members of this elite force are fully trained in Unbelieva-Foo in case things get out of hand, but so far that hasn't happened. Once you get a Negative Charge or a Henri Petit distracted, it's pretty easy to swoop in and take them down. It's simply a matter of getting them to... take the bait.