Problemo

"Hey, Unbelieva-Boobs:

It's me ... Henri Petit. 

Remember when I said '... it will require me working with Michael Noble as a team of two best friends' while speaking with that abusive bozo Clark? Well ... the meaning behind that cryptic little statement is vastly different than I may have let on.

I have your Unbelieva-mate. As a hostage. As shown below:

The details of his acquisition are not your concern right now. What you do need to be concerned about is that file folder you found in your so-called 'Unbelieva-Base' and Clark's continued abuse.

Details are forthcoming ..."

Cracking the code

Once again, this
pain-in-the-ass.

As much fun as it is to interrogate Henri Petit (relieving stress by relieving him of the ability to feel anything below his neck is tremendously therapeutic!), he is incredibly unpleasant in a number of areas, so the less time spent around him the better.
Such was the case when Jeff found the file folder of pictures. I was on my way back to base and the pizza I had ordered wouldn't be ready for another 20 minutes so I told Jeff I'd stop by Petit's place and see if I could stir something up.

ME: All right, Petit. The jig, much like a pair of scissors or anything else you might hurt yourself with in this house, is up.
HP: Well, well, well. The Unbeliev... wait. Where are the other two?
ME: They're busy. It's just me.
HP: Michael isn't with you? Wearing his cutoffs?
ME: What did I just say, diaper boy?!?
HP: Gyah! Get away from me! You're the one I hate the most, constantly kicking me out of windows.
ME: Relax, thug rat. I just want to know what's with the file full of stupid pictures Jeff found at our headquarters.
HP: For at least the thousandth time, I am not a child. And those aren't "stupid pictures". They're a code. A fiendishly clever code. There is absolutely zero chance any of you will figure it out. Fools! Ha! The mighty Unbelievables, humbled before me at last!
ME: Pssh. Some code.You're busy working on two formulas; one that will make water fattening and the other that will emasculate the world's fighting men, leaving earth susceptible to alien attack, which you think will finally impress your mother, as well as women who find you foul. Also, you seem to think you wouldn't get hassled when ordering alcohol if you looked more like a bull and less like the small, lump of goo with eyes that you are, which is kind of weird but like everything else you do, is like I said: stupid.
HP: Huh. Aside from a couple of semantic details, that's actually pretty much spot on.
ME: One thing, though. Why did you place the clues in a spot where you knew we'd find them.
HP: Because I wanted you to find them!
ME: Oh, to taunt us?
HP: Well, not exactly. I-I thought it would be fun, going head-to-head with you guys. See, basically it comes down to me being misunderstood due to the fact that I'm lonely, and...
ME: All right, junior, let's go. It's window time.
HP: Wait! While you succeeded in cracking the code, you're too late! The plan is already underway.
ME: Why, you malodorous ankle biter!
HP: There is still time to save your precious planet, you name-calling window-kicker. However, it will require me working with Michael Noble as a team of two best friends.
ME: Ew. Michael is not going to be pleased.
HP: Whatever. It's either this or that? What say you?

Find out on Friday What Michael say... err, said.

Un Petit Security Breach

The other day I had occasion to be looking through some old case files in the Unbelieva-vault. I seem to recall it was a rather rickety filing cabinet way in the back, where I found what I am about to show you. 

Tucked into the back of the topmost drawer was a file that looked a little out of place. As I pulled it out a small photo album of the kind you would buy at Walgreen's fell out of it. Curious, I picked it up and idly flicked through the contents. I could not recall seeing these pictures before. See what you guys can make of them.

I was unable to make sense of this collection of strange images, that is, until I saw the final photo of the group.

That little demon-child Henri Petit! I'd recognise his shifty features anywhere! Immediately, I ran to inform the boys. It was concluded after a few minutes of head-shaking, butt-scratching and doing the Watusi that there had been a security breach and that these photos were the treasured possessions of Petit himself! But had he just mislaid them or left them there on purpose for some nefarious reason? Well, I'll let Clark and Michael tell you what the significance of these pictures are and why they were in our beloved stronghold's file room. What could Petit and his gang want from the filing cabinet? And what's it got to do with the price of fish?

Till Wednesday then....ciao!

The reason for speed

The benefits of doing everything with speed are self-evident. Speed means fast means effective. The quicker we can resolve one issue, the quicker we can devote our attention to the next. If this were all written out like a formula on a laboratory chalkboard, way down at the bottom right corner you'd see "= Duh!".
Of course we as kick-ass crimefighters appreciate and embrace anything that speeds us up, but don't forget that our kick-ass-ed-ness is only one facet of The Unbelieveables. We're also stylish gents and certain aspects of our lifestyle do not benefit from speedy execution.

Notice how microwave ovens do not have a "FONDUE" setting

Basically, we embrace speed and doing things quickly so we can greater appreciate that which occurs at a more languid pace.

Sure, a jaunt through the country in an extremely fast car can be almost as much fun as a slow and leisurely tour, but where is the young lady supposed to sit?

A hot-oil massage delivered in a hurry? Not unless your lover is into grease fires, chum.

And of course, when it comes to the making of the love... well, actually, that's a poor example; there's really no good reason not to just take care of business and get back out there on the streets lickety split (so to speak). You're a busy guy! She'll understand. Probably. 

Speed, Dynamism, and The Like

When Michael says we invented speed, it's kind of misleading. We didn't invent it. It already existed. Speed has always been around, since before the time of the caveman running after a wild dinner on legs. Velociraptors and pterodactyls knew the advantages of being light on one's feet (or wings). So speed has been around the block a time or two.

No, speed wasn't our idea. We simply refined it.

It was while meditating during a rather superb Unbelieva-Zen session (one that took place after a fabulous meal at Monica Lewis' house - the things that lady can make with Swift's Identified Beef would make your head spin! She is so creative!)that we made the startling discovery.

Yes, we were able to unlock the key to speed. Once you know what the key is, we reasoned, you will be able to control it and make it better. Which is what we did.

Clark and I ran a few tests on our theories in the Unbelieva-lab while Michael recorded the results for posterity. The theory was now not only proven but we could immediately put the results to good use in designing faster clothes, faster shoes, faster fast food, speedier swim trunks and more dynamic hats for our own purposes.

That hat is dynamic, I trust you'll agree.

Invisible clothes - what could be faster?

We then set about making everything else we owned swifter, slicker and faster. Now we live in a place where everything you can think of is just that much faster than anywhere else. Even our broadband connection.

Clark will give you the lowdown on Friday. Meanwhile...

ciao!

The Fact Of The Matter

Everybody survived Valentine's Day, right?

Super. That's good to hear. Then we can move along, secure in the knowledge the "holiday" is not only well behind us but that we won't have to poke that particular lion with a stick until next year. On to other matters ...
 
... but before we do, let's review a few facts about The Unbelievables for a moment, shall we? 

• It's a given The Unbelievables are exceptional crime fighters of unparalleled degree. (Duh.)
• It's also a given we're mavens and front runners of fashionable attire. (After all @StylishGents IS our Twitter handle. Need anything more be said?)
• Additionally it's a given we have no equal when it comes to wooing / entertaining / humoring etc. the ladies. (Hello, Ladies!)

However ... there's a certain little known fact most of you don't know about us you might find surprising. (And let's be honest: There have been tons of times you've been startled / pleasantly pleased by revelations The Unbelieveables have offered. You might have even found yourselves jealous of these revelations. And you know what? That's okay. Not everyone can be an Unbelievable. It's an ultra-rare occasion when someone is included in our little circle of "Wow.")

Anyway, that additional little known fact:

The Unbelievables developed speed.   

Yes. "Speed." The thing that gives "fast" its fastness, "swift" its swiftness and "zip" its zippy-ness.

That speed.
Don't get us wrong: This isn't some shenanigan akin to Al Gore developing the internet or Los Del Rio introducing The Macarena.

Father (ahem) of The Internet

Ummmmm ... no ...

We're talkin' good old fashioned get up and go here. Speed, baby ... speed.

"But Michael ... hasn't "speed" been around for a long, long time?" you're probably asking right about now. And that would be a pretty good question. I'm confident you'll be surprised by the answer.

Clark? Jeff? Take it away, boys ...

You're Such A Card

As Clark mentioned on Monday, we all have our own style and approach on the day of the Big V. For me, the biggest deal is the card.

Oh, it's all very well to do the fancy dinner, the jewellery, the new outfit, the brand new Audi with a big red bow on it, the breakfast in bed, the flowers, the chocolates... but if the card sucks, then you are sunk. You might as well be wearing a T-shirt with the word 'loser' printed in big fat red letters on it. In church. Without pants.

So what kind of card is right? There are many answers, but the key word to remember is puns. Girls love a good pun, and the cornier, stupider, and more ridiculous, the better. I asked the UnbelievaBabes about the best V-cards they'd ever gotten, and they provided me with a few examples (you knew there'd be examples, didn't you? I am so transparent).

Kinky.

Oh, they get worse.

There's a bit of a tone to this one.

Croak - frog - geddit?

Offensive to donkeys.

Technically not a pun, but who's being picky?

And the worst one of all...

I heard the writer of this one now works for Jay Leno. Good gig.

 Now, I hope you follow my sage advice this Valentine's Day. if you don't, you might get a card back from your loved one like this...

She's not really into you.