Hot Roddin'

The Unbelievabase, sometime yesterday morning. Breakfast is on the table.

MICHAEL: So, any word on Rod and The Conductor?

CLARK: Nada. Zip. Smoke. Nuttin'. Not a peep. Nary a flicker on the radar scope. Not heard a word. No--

JEFF: We get it! I have, however, done some research--

C: Wikipedia, Ask Jeeves, Bing...

J: THANK you, yes, Wikipedia etc., (ahem) and I can safely say that with the combined age of The Conductor, Ryūzō and The Seven Henchmen being approximately 636, depending on whose birth certificates are accurate, Rodders should have comparatively little difficulty escaping their clutches.

M: So... we don't need to worry?

J: No.

C: And the ransom? 

J: Paid.

CLARK,MICHAEL: How?

J: I know it sounds almost impossible to believe, but we have Kip The Mail Boy to thank.

C: Oh come ON! That little snot-nose?! What the--

J: Believe it or not, but all this time working as our mail boy has had a positive effect on Kip. He has learned how to hack computers. 

M: You're putting me on.

C: On what planet exactly?!

J: On this one, mi amigos. I sorta... suggested to Kip that perhaps he could hack into the finances of a very rich, very stupid person and use their money to procure the ransom. After all, being very rich, a transaction like that would be a drop in the bucket. And being very stupid, they wouldn't think to look. 

M,C: Come on though! Rich and stupid, sure, but still a person...

J: Not a good person. Not a nice person. A rich, dumb asshole who deserves to be stolen from. 

M: Oh, an asshole. That makes it alright then.

DOOR KNOCKS.

J: I believe I'll get that.

Jeff opens door to reveal Rod Stewart, alive and well.

ROD: Alright lads?

M, C: Hi Rod! What the heck?!

ROD: Relax, guys. Although I could have easily overpowered Ryūzō and The Seven Henchmen, not to mention The Conductor, the ransom got paid and I just walked out, but not before hiring Ryūzō and The Seven Henchmen to be my staff. They're all great cooks (Pan-Asian Fusion is the best!) and Ryūzō himself is now my chief bodyguard. I had them clean out my attic for old spare bits of railway track, gave that to The Conductor, and then made my way here.

M, C: Wow.

M: That explains that, then. 

C; Yeah, except for one thing. The name of the rich, dumb asshole Kip hacked?

J: (slyly grinning) Oh, I'm sure if you think hard enough, you can come up Trumps.

ALL: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!