Some people just can not take a hint!

"Thank you for calling the Unbelievabase, this is Clark speaking. Please state your crisis."
"(Squealing) Is this really one of The Unbelievables?"
"Yes ma'am. How can I help you?"
"I need you to come over right away. I have a silky negilgee on and I need help taking it off."
"Are you serious?"
"Oh, I'm totally serious."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Mmmmm. Anything."
"Why on earth did you buy a garment that you didn't know how to put on and take off safely?"
"Well, um, it's sexy. It's so sheer and soft and it..."
"And apparently it's a deathtrap, too."
"Um, yeah. So are you going to come and save me?"
"If it's a serious enough situation for you to call The Unbelievables, there's no time to waste. Let me try to talk you through it. Now, obviously you would have already tried to tear or cut the fabric and that must not have worked so I'm going to assume the problem is with zippers of clasps or whatever you're working with there. So go ahead and get your acetylene cutting torch. You DO have an acetylene cutting torch, don't you?"
"Mmmmm, sounds hot!"
"Of course it's hot. The initial combustion of the acetylene gas heats steel to a molten state. By adding a pressurized stream of oxygen, the cutter ignites the steel to burn through the kerf of your cut. Honestly, it's like you know nothing about lingerie!"
"Oh. Well, I..."
"Now don't forget heavy leather gloves and safety goggles. You're going to need to be VERY careful because nylon and synthetic blends are REALLY flammable."
"Leather? My girlfriend here has some leather boots."
"Wait... you have someone there with you?"
"Um, there are actually four of us here. Four sexy girls and we all have the same problem."
"Four of you and you can't figure this out? Work together like a team! That's what The Unbelievables would do. Come on!"
"Okay, but are you coming over here or not?"
"Listen, I'm trying to be polite here. The situation is that all the crimes are currently solved and we have nothing to do, which is why I'm monitoring the phones. I'm waiting for somebody to call with something interesting and you're keeping me from that."
"Gotta be kidding me!"
"Don't call back."
(click)

Feeling Disconnected

"Unbelieva-base, Jeff speaking. Or Michael or possibly even Clark. I'm not really at liberty to say. How may we provide you with excellent crime fighting skills and bring the light of righteous justice into your oh so empty and blighted life today?"

"...uhmm..."

"Come on, come on... we're very busy and important, you know."

"Hey, hang on a moment, that isn't a very nice attitude."

"Nice attitude? You're the one calling from an unlisted number. Whaddya want anyway?"

"Well, it's about my neighbour. He told me that a friend of a friend told him that the government has a secret program to install special thought probes into boxes of Kleenex."

"This neighbour of yours... does he seem like a rational, normal person most of the time?"

"Wee-eelll..."

"I thought so. You've been hoodwinked, sir. Duped. Scammed. Lied to. He told you a big fat fib. Now get off the line, we may have more important calls coming in."

"B-but..."

"Thank you! Goodbye!"

"But he also told me that it is estimated that 4 million "junk" telephone calls, phone solicitations by persons or programmed machine are made every day in the United States, and that turned out to be true, so...."

"Puh-leeze get off the line, sir, or we will come to your house and re-program your speed dials and your VCR. And maybe your microwave too. All for wasting our valuable time."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh yes we would."

"You guys actually do that kind of thing? For real?"

"Yeah. I mean, well, we would, if we really had to."

"So you've never actually done it?"

"No, well, I mean, we've thought about doing it a whole lot. And we could, you know. It's just we're so busy and all with the international major crime fighting stuff that we seldom get any spare time. I mean, you wouldn't believe how much time some of these cases take. Like, even a stakeout can take a couple days on average, and a sting can take weeks to plan. We barely get time to sit in the hot tub with some fine ladies (Hello, ladies!!) any more."

"I see..."

"I mean I shouldn't complain really, I guess I have a glamorous job and lots of showbiz friends and ladies on each arm, but you know, it's just... I dunno, sometimes it all seems so pointless."

"..."

"And you know, none of us are getting any younger and sometimes the post-crime fighting massages take a lot longer than they used to, and then there's all the vitamins we have to take, it gets to be such a drag, you know?"

"...*click*..."


"Works every time...."

A Simple Request

Imagine, if you will, a world without toilet paper.

For men, not that big a deal.

Unless you're one of those prissy, uptight, high-maintenance, high-strung, "anal," (See what I did there?), metro-sexual sort of men ... the kind who put the "foo" in "foo-foo." (For the record, I am not one of those kinds of men. I'm pretty down to earth.)

Men, in the above given situation, will switch into "necessity is the mother of invention" mode. A random washcloth* ... that magazine sitting on the back of the commode ... the emptied toilet paper roll itself ... for men, all those examples could be utilized to clean the back of your front in that time of need.

Now ... if you're a woman, that's entirely different story. Women need toilet paper. Women live for the stuff. And that's okay. (Hokay ... they don't "live" for the stuff, but you know what I mean.)

But don't go getting your chaps in a hide just yet. As far as I know, there's not going to be any sort of shortage in the toilet paper industry. (Again, as far as I know.)

But let me tell you something: There is a contingent of ne'er-do-wells out there who would love to "stir the shit" (if you will) and vanquish toilet paper from the face of the earth ... just to cause panic and general mayhem and monkey business. (Though, let's be honest: If toilet paper really was gone, daddy, gone I'm certain it would be an issue with far greater and long-reaching consequences than simple monkey business.)

It's not like the internet going down, which would require one to get off the couch, stop the spreading of one's ass and actually perform some routine duty that's been put off most of the week ... like wash those dishes that have turned into a kitchen sink science lab experiment complete with growing mold.

Or running out of milk. Or coffee creamer. Or Coca Cola. Or not being able to don that favorite shirt because it's in the bottom of the laundry basket and needs to be washed.

"Durr ... uhm ... yup ... I'm almost out of nuts.

Now whuddoo I do ... ???"

Why do I bring up some of these things?

Because - while there is that contingent of underhanded mischief makers out there - there is a small group of boneheads who contact The Unbelievables for the dopiest reasons ever, thinking we'll rush to the rescue at the drop of a hat. For events that are, in essence, non-events.

For example: I was the only one at The Unbelieva-Base one afternoon when the following call came in ...

*ring, ring*

"Unbelieva-Base ... this is Michael ..."

"Hey ... Michael? Hi. This is Jed. Something came up I hope you guys might be able to help out with. The other day? I found out left-handed people get injured more often than right-handed people. Matter of fact, I heard something like 2,500 lefties die each year - DIE, mind you - from using right-handed products! Twenty! Five! Hundred! People! A! Year! Help us, Unbelievables ... you're our only hope!"

Of course, I told the guy I had another call coming in.

What was I supposed to say? "Really? Well ... we'll jump on this right away. We'll get in contact with all the left-handed folks out there coast to coast and discourage them from using right-handed products post haste ..."

No. I don't think so. And this is just one example in a bevy of them I've decided to share.

We get this kind of stuff all the time. Jeff and Clark have stories in abundance and they'll be relaying some of the more ludicrous calls and notifications we've received asking for our assistance.

Stay tuned ...

* Of course, said washcloth would be disposed of before the wife/girlfriend/mom/hostess could find out.

If We Had To Do The Same Again, We Would, My Friend

Fernando. Can it really be that this man, this, this... piece of work, is the one behind all the shenanigans related to the Polar Vortex? Yes, indeed it is, as Michael has ably demonstrated on Wednesday.

Fernando's ability to start rumours and turn them into global maelstroms of mood, fashion trends on the Fujita Scale that have style aficionados slobbering like an overweight St. Bernard on the hottest day of the Summer, has been enough over the years to get us scratching our heads in wonder. 

Have you ever walked down a busy street and seen someone wearing something that makes you go "What the...?" Or perhaps you've observed something in a shop window that leaves you agog and confused? That's Fernando's handiwork. 

Maybe you heard a new hit song on the radio and thought to yourself "Whoever buys that claptrap must be out of their tiny mind!" Again, Fernando is exercising his power of influence.

Here's a few examples of the man's skills...

The popularity of roadside pink elephants has not waned over the years, and that's all due to Fernando.

The incomprehensible popularity of girl band Stooshe? His fault.

The fact that girls no longer wear hot pants on a regular basis? Fernando at work again.

So how does the man exercise such worldwide influence on everyone? And to what end?

He has a global network, much like ourselves. Fingers in every pie. People from all walks of life who will do his evil bidding. They willingly go around wearing dumb clothes, creating awful music, introducing terrible products into shop inventories (see below)...

...and people, like sheep, start copying the dumb-clothes-wearers, buying the rubbish music, and buying crap cookies. Not only that, but all he has to do is let his operatives know to start making a big deal about how cold it is in the middle of freakin' winter, for Pete's sake, and next thing you know everyone's carrying on something fierce about how it's the worst winter ever. 

Why he does it is down to one thing: POWER. He gets off on being able to dictate the whims of the world. Plain and simple. It's an addiction. The more he does it, the more he wants to do it. But the man has an Achilles heel - wallcoverings. Yes, wallpaper, paint, friezes and frescoes, he loves them all. So he's the reason Farrow & Ball paints are inexplicably popular and wildly expensive at the same time. The reason people think stuff like this..

is cool, for pity's sake!

Well, I can now divulge that we Unbelievables have a plan to stop him. Oh, and it's so darned sneaky, like a sniper moving into position in Fallujah. We have been able to locate Fernando, and we have invited him out for 'coffee'... only there's no coffee! No, we are gonna hit him with a devastating assault on his weird wallcovering-obsessed senses. First of all, here's where we are taking him for 'coffee'...

Then we are going to ask him to peruse through a book of wallpaper samples...

Like this one...

this one...

this really cool one...

that one...

and lastly, this one, from my Grandma's bathroom.

Then some paint swatches from Super Kem-Tone...

then we'll take him to our favourite bar for 'drinks'...

the interior of which looks like this...

and then round to Clark's Grandma's house for a few late night nibbles in her kitchen...

while listening to the vocal stylings of Kay Martin and her Body Guards...

So what if it's not Christmas?

and then on to a local eaterie for breakfast...

by which time Fernando will have been subjected to such a sensory attack that not only will his opinions have changed for the better, but he'll also swear off the rumour mill. It's an absolutely foolproof plan. So - fingers crossed for the weekend...

"Can you hear the drums, Fernando?"
"No, that's The Unbelievables on the phone. By the way, what's wrong with your finger?"

Ciao!

Rumor Has It

Our desire to report we've made enough progress to tell you about the "huge huge mega-big really really really top tip top secret case" intimated by Jeff we, unfortunately, haven't quite wrapped up yet does indeed need to be talked about so you'll stop talking about it even though you already are? Well ... it needs to be talked about.

(Geez, you'd think you would have realized that much by now ...)

Please allow me to elaborate ...

With regard to The Polar Vortex: This thing has been around as long as the North and South Poles have existed, people, but we haven't been keeping track because: 1) We hadn't exactly discovered it until we started keeping accurate meteorological records in the mid/late 1800s; and 2) It wasn't really a concern until our arch-enemy Fernando started making a big deal over it. But ... I'm getting ahead of myself ...

First, a little history: With regard to this year's extreme cold, The Polar Vortex ramped up and affected parts of Canada and the United States east of the Rocky Mountains, going so far as to extend into Central Florida and even Northeastern Mexico. It fed an Arctic cold front, which resulted in an abnormally heavy snowfall. Temperatures fell to unprecedented levels due to the front - and consequently low temperature records were broken across the United States - leading to business, school and road closures as well as mass flight cancellations. More than 200 million people were affected from the Rocky Mountains (which was taken advantage of by the Coors Brewing Company, let me tell you) all the way east to the Atlantic Ocean.

And there you have it - your little 2014 colder-than-cold report for the start of the year.

But what does this have to do with the general public's jibber jabber Clark mentioned last post resulting annoyance, in-fighting, discord and, finally, mayhem?

Well, as Clark said: The international criminal Fernando.

No, no, no ...

... not Fernando Pessoa, the poet ...

Fernando, as it turns out (and yes ... he goes by the chique one-name moniker), isn't your cut-and-dried ne'er-do-well. (Nor is he a poet.) This guy is packed with a different sort of stuffing. He'd rather use a discourse of deception than resort to physical altercation. He's best at the turn of phrase, calculated in such a way as to put one on the defensive or cause confusion. Additionally, Fernando loves the use of suggestion to put his evil machinations in motion. Nothing else gives him more of a thrill than seeing people lean toward an idea he's concocted and right in a trap that benefits no one but himself.

The ultra-devious Fernando

(He added a moustache and eyebrow twist

to "give'em something to talk about" ...)

For example: Colors and patterns. Have you ever wondered who, exactly, is responsible for this year's bright yellows, medium oranges and stripes as "the vibrant, alive colors and patterns that will be the smash the summer of 2014" ... ??? Is it the same party responsible for charcoals and earth tones being "the go-to hues for next winter" ... ??? You bet it is. And it's not the fashion industry calling those shots:

It's Fernando.

Think about it: Why in the world would he want to manipulate the fashion industry? To corner the market and instigate a run on an idea in order to slyly coax everybody and his brother on the path toward his devious, manipulative ways. With the ultimate goal, of course, being gads of money. And you know there's money by the truckload when it comes to the fashion industry. When it comes to hemlines and haute couture, the freaks and weirdos in fashion are willing to be led like lambs to the slaughter for this stuff.

You get the picture? Own that market and you've got money coming in left and right. And that leads to hot chicks at your beck and call ... which leads to men of power and persuasion who see the writing on the wall, ready to do your bidding for a price. A price Fernando is more than capable of paying after he adeptly sways those men and those hot chicks and that market with rumors and more. Ultimately resulting in world-wide mayhem.

It all sounds pretty daunting ... doesn't it? But that's why we have plans set to go. And, come Friday, it's time to reveal those plans, stop the talk talk and affirm action.

And our very own point man, Jeff, will do the honors in showing you just how terrible wall coverings will be the ultimate downfall of Fernando ...

Let's give you nothing to talk about

The other day (a week ago to the day, actually), Jeff mentioned "a huge huge mega-big really really really top tip top secret case" that we were working on. I'd love to report that we've made enough progress on it to tell you all about it. Unfortunately, while things are progressing, we haven't quite wrapped it up. But we need to tell you about it so you'll stop talking about it because you already are.
Please allow me to explain.
No doubt those of you in the U.S. are all familiar with The Polar Vortex and how it's caused frigid cold conditions across the continent. We were able to determine that it's actually man-made and the nefarious purpose behind it. "Well yeah, to freeze everything, duh", you say. That's a reasonable deduction, although the sarcasm is unnecessary and hurtful. No, the purpose is to make everyone talk about it, which leads to everyone getting annoyed because everyone is talking about it, which leads to people getting on one another's nerves and then in-fighting, discord and mayhem. Of course, we recognized this as the handiwork of this man...

The international criminal known only as Fernando
He loves the destructive power of gossip and how mere words can cause people to destroy each other. Not satisfied with small skirmishes involving a few people saying horrible things about each other, he prefers to author global events that make people talk to each other and the chaos that ensues. As you may have guessed, we've dealt with him before (Michael and Jeff will tell you about some of those cases later this week) and we'll catch him this time. His fatal weakness: terrible wall coverings. There are only a few stores in the world that cater to people with that sickness and we'll undoubtedly track him down at one of them, and things will warm up again.

A Need ...

Just one of the many reasons The Unbelievables were conceived ...

... and not a moment too soon ...

Kinda Strange Tunes

So ... that hat? The one we all drew from to get some random musical celebrity for this week's monkey business?

Here's the thing: First, you have to understand I'm the last of the three to "draw" from the hat. And that means you have to know shenanigans from my partners in crime(fighting) are surely to ensue when I come up to bat.

Don't get me wrong: Being last has its advantages at times. This time? Not one of them ...

"Your turn, Michael! Get out here! Jeff and I are waiting!" Clark called to me a little too enthusiastically while I was somewhere down the hall in our Unbelieva-digs earlier this week.

"Let me stop what I'm doing and come satisfy your whim, Clark ..." I called out. I was brushing my teeth at the time, I didn't have pants on (I know ... shocking) and really wanted to jump in the shower ... but ...

I entered the office where Clark and Jeff were beaming with delight, obviously at something I was unaware. Jeff was stifling snickers and Clark was outright doubled over from laughter prior to me making my appearance.

"Jeff's got the hat. Reach in and grab a name ... no peeking!" Clark commanded.

I stuffed my hand inside the hat. I could feel at least a dozen folded pieces of paper at the bottom of the thing and I swished them around a bit, finally drawing one out.

I looked at it while unfolding it, flipped it from being upside down once opened, then put my hand on my hip:

The name I'd drawn was Roy Orbison. 

"Funny. You guys are a laugh riot ..." Jeff's snickers began anew and Clark did his best to bite the inside of his cheek to stop any further guffawing from taking place.

Jeff held out the hat once again. I drew another piece of paper.

Janis Joplin.

I drew again.

Gene Autry. Really.

And again. 

Minnie Pearl.

"All right ... you guys have had your fun. How many more dead people are in the hat?!?"

"You've actually - and amazingly - picked out each and every dead one," Clark confessed. "We don't know how you did it, but you're good, You. There're none but the living left in the hat from this point forward ..." he assured me.

"... uh, huh ..." I countered and stuck my hand in one last time.

Weird Al Yankovic. Nice. This was the celebrity I had to get songs from.

And let me tell you, Weird Al is no piece of cake to get hold of. The best I was able to do was get in contact with his publicist who informed me his 2½ year-long tour which ended last October really took a toll on him. Translation: It was not possible to speak with Al directly. When I revealed my intentions, the publicist said the best he could do was pass along what he thought were some of Al's favorites.

Naturally, I was skeptical. But there wasn't much I could do about it in light of Al being on the sly. 

So here's what I was able to glean. First? "All By Myself" by Eric Carmen. Why? I have no clue ...


Secondly - and not so surprisingly - the Blue Swede version of "Hooked On A Feeling" ...


Lastly - and most troublingly - 10CC's "I'm Not In Love." I don't want to know why ...



Now, guys: Can we get back to some real blood and guts crime type stuff? Because this week sort of creeped me out ...

Top 3 Albums, not just tunes

Hi folks. It's Wednesday and that means it's my turn to draw a name from the hat. Who will I get...?

Elvis Costello!
If there's one thing Elvis likes more than glasses, hats and scarves, it's having eclectic tastes in music. Or as he says, "I don't feel any form of music is beyond me in the sense of that I don't understand it or I don't have some love for some part of it." He was reluctant to share his three favorite songs with us, claiming that it would be impossible to limit that list to a mere three, but I told him I didn't have all day and asked him to just get on with it already. He insisted that it be whole albums, not just songs, and these are the three he pulled from his top shelf.

"I like this one a lot. This is, of course, Larz Kristerz and the first chapter in the 'Stuff Party' epoch. I love the concept of a Stuff Party. It can be anything you like because it's about stuff and stuff is whatever it is. 'Why are there geese in here? Who is that person dressed as a shrimp? Where is this blimp going? No one can say. It's a Stuff Party'."

"I'm not normally a huge fan of Gustav Holst, I mean I respect his work, of course, but he's not someone I find terribly interesting. I do like the direction he took with this album, though, interplanetary space war with marital aids as weapons. That's boldly creative and super sexy." A NOTE FROM CLARK: That may be how a rock star feels about it but neither of these people have any concept of cover and concealment or how to take up an effective firing stance. They'd both be riddled with dildo bullets within seconds.

"As you can tell, I love concept albums, an art form that has disappeared, it would seem. This one is my absolute favorite. In my opinion, it's the Sgt. Pepper of the 'husband-and-wife-try-to-form-pirate-crew-using-a-hotel-laundry-cart-as-a-ship-but-repeated-attempts-to-produce-suitably-ugly-children-are-all-failures-so-they-have-to-break-down-and-buy-a-ventriloquist-dummy' genre. You know, that whole thing."

Well, that's the Top Three from Elvis Costello. Tune in Friday when it's Micheal's turn to draw a name from the hat!

Top 3 Tunes

This week being a slow news week, coupled with the fact that we're working on a huge huge mega-big really really really top tip top secret case, (plus being fresh out of ideas), we thought we'd ask some of our showbiz friends a random question and see what they came up with. The question we chose was: What are your three favourite albums of all time? We were allowed to pick one celeb each out of a hat (a very stylish fedora). I dug deep into the fedora and came up with Björk.

She's pretty bonkers, right? So you'd expect her selections to be pretty random, correct? Well, they are. But not really in the way you might think. Here we go...

1)  

Lionel Blair's Aerobic Dancing LP. Of this, she says, "Stomping tunes, cardboard hair and tight shorty shorts. What more can one ask for?" What indeed?

2)   

Peter Hayward, King Of The Keys. "He's the king, no question. He can press my keys anytime." Wow. Just wow.

3) 

The Knipp Family - A trip around the world with Father, Mother and 6 daughters. "They may look like six men in matching skirts and headscarves who could have come from an Eastern European turnip field, but they sing like angels."

Well, what can one say? Tune in on Wednesday when Clark will be dialling in his celeb's choice.

So sorry, George

There's no question that clip of Mr. Takei fencing on his incredibly popular show "Star Wars" didn't help his case with us. We take our swordsmanship VERY seriously. But the real disconnect was his absolute inability to deliver a suitable one-liner after a battle with an enemy. George says graceful and witty things. We are men of action, not words

and flowery, pithy, insightful speeches aren't really appropriate for what we do.
For instance, this is the kind of thing we say after defeating some foul ne'er do well:

"Enjoy your window shopping" - After we've kicked someone through a window

"Cool off" - After we've blasted someone with liquid nitrogen

"There's nothing like fall in New York" - After we've thrown someone off a skyscraper in New York

"So sorry about your explosive diarrhea" - After we've tricked someone into eating dynamite, which only happened once and was instantly regretted

And here's the kind of things George says...

“I’ve sometimes imagined that if sin had a flavor, it might very well be bacon.”

I mean, it's kind of cool but what the hell does it mean? Maybe if you said it after throwing a crooked priest into a pen of man-eating pigs, but how often are you going to get a chance to do that? Otherwise, it's confusing. Naturally, we can't stand around after solving a case contemplating the meaning of enigmatic riddles and being confused and suddenly thinking about how delicious bacon is.

So we sat down with George to break the news the best way we could think of.

GEORGE: So that's it? I'm out?
MICHAEL: Afraid so, buddy. Unfortunately, everybody just isn't cut out for it. Please try not to take it personally.
GEORGE: Oh no, it's really not that big a deal. I have plenty of stuff going on to keep me busy as it is. I just thought this might be fun so I gave it a shot. No hard feelings!
JEFF: Wow, you're taking this remarkably well. Not sure we were prepared for this.
GEORGE: Really, I'm fine. If anything, I feel bad for you guys, taking all this trouble to bring me to dinner on the top floor of this New York skyscraper with a spectacular window view. It's really not necessary. You could have just called me.
CLARK: (Sigh) I'll see if we can get a refund on the liquid nitrogen.
GEORGE: What is that under the bacon? I-is that dynamite?!?

Oh Myyy...

In Monday's missive from Michael, you might be forgiven for thinking that we did not like a certain G. Takei, Esq. Well, nothing could be further from the truth. We love George. We think he's a very talented and witty and perceptive individual. We adore him in everything he does. We especially love that moment in the Comedy Central Roast of William Shatner where he told Bill, "F*%& you and the horse you rode in on!". We just think he's the bee's knees. We just don't think he's Unbelievables material. 

The Unbelievables and NOT George Takei.

Sure, he can act the hell out of the role of Mr. Sulu, the helmsman of the Starship NCC-1701 Enterprise. He writes many a witty quip on Twitter, Facebook and even on Amazon (click here). And he's a stylish, well-dressed guy (much like ourselves). He's a well-rounded, well-read, highly intelligent renaissance man, for sure. He just cannot cut it as an Unbelievable. We rejected his application because we knew it wouldn't work and it wasn't worth letting the poor guy come along and embarrass himself. He sent in his stunt double to try to 'shadow' us and help out on a case, to try to get to know the ropes, so to speak. But his stunt double (a very nice chap named Godfrey) didn't have his heart in the task and the photo above is the only one of him with us. It was taken at the start of day one, before he'd had any real experience with us. By the end of that day the man was a shell of his former self. We'd worn him out. He quit there and then, but we stayed in touch and he still comes to our occasional Pan-Asian Fusion Cookery Night Sleepovers (no, not to cook - Godfrey's rubbish in the kitchen, but he digs the Yakitori), and is dating an Unbelievababe named Trixie. Good old Godfrey.

No, George would not have worked out at all. Any info he got from Godfrey as to what was required of an Unbelievable was probably useless anyway, since we are constantly striving to improve, and updating our methods.

But what could have made Mr. Takei so certain he was made of the right stuff? Our guess - this...




I'll leave it to Clark to tell you all how we broke he news to George and convinced him once and for all the he wasn't cut out for Unbelievability. Till Friday then.... ciao!

The Red Shirt

 

Yes. We know: You've seen the above image time and again where The Unbelievables are concerned.

 

And, of course, there's a story behind the image. Several stories, actually, depending on which of us you ask.

 

As detailed previously, this was one of our more successful undercover operations with Jeff pulling off blondness in grand fashion and Clark looking slim and trim and pimp-o-licious to boot. (And, duh ... I've always looked fabulous in white ...)

 

The case - known as "Flared Jean Funk" - was of little import as it turned out. More to the point was the Asian gentleman to our left who was supposed to be none other than George Takei (yes ... that George Takei) in the flesh. As it turned out, he was an infiltrator put in place by none other than the real George Takei in an attempt to find out what it took to become a bonafide member of The Unbelievables.

 

 

Back in the day Jeff, Clark and I put the word out we were accepting applications for membership in our extraordinary crime fighting organization. Early on we thought it might be best to have additional bodies in the mix, believing "many hands make light work." In actual process, however, we discovered there were just too many cooks in the kitchen. (In the end, "less being more" is a better fit when it comes to fighting bad guys.)

 

Oh ... we continue to employ various reliable informants and others to aid in our endeavors. But no one yet has met our exacting standards. And Georgie Boy wasn't even close.  

 

That being said, we ticked him off by spurning his application. Simply, he just wasn't up to the task of "unbelievability" we've come to expect.

 

Jeff? Clark? Give everyone the down and dirty why we "red shirted" him ...