Is There A Petit In My Family Tree?

The other day at the Unbelievabase, things were progressing as normal*.

Clark was trying out a new swimsuit...

Sorry (ahem) sun briefs...


Michael was trying out creepy ventriloquism...

Not actually sure which is the dummy and which is Michael - they're both so freakin' creepy.

And I was going through old pics of my relatives that my mother had found while researching our family tree.  Boy, we had a few whackos.

 There was Cousin Gertie who enjoyed dressing inside a hollowed-out ostrich egg and sitting on walls to scare people...

How she got into the thing is beyond me.

And the Fredrickson quads, who had the most efficient colons this side of the testing room at the Bran Flakes factory.

I remember getting invited to one of these 'prune parties'. Needless to say, I politely declined.

When what to my wonderful eyes (they really are wonderful, I ain't braggin' on myself now baby) should appear but these next few selections which made me question my heritage!

Whaaat?  Gun-totin', flag-wavin', cross-dressin', monocle-wearin', underage smokin' portly children in a box of family pictures? My family pictures?

I immediately got on the horn to my mother.

"Can you hear me, mother?"

I asked of her, "Mater dear, mater, I say, jolly old what what, eh, what?" No, I didn't. Because my mother and I don't talk like that. And I think you'll find that NOBODY talks like that except in the diseased imaginations of American scriptwriters. But I digress.

Long story short, she had no idea who they were. I persevered though, saying "But you don't think there's a possibility that way way back in the family tree, there could be a... a... Petit?!"


She reassured me that there wasn't, but still... those photos do seem a little... well, off, don't they?

That's when I brought the guys in. I had to find out for certain.

Find out what we discovered later in the week. The results may shock you! (Or not. )




*"Normal" is a relative term around these parts, y'know.

Clown Duty

"The guys will detail some other characters we're keeping an eye on later this week" Clark noted Monday.

In the course of determination what possible bad turns other circus performers might succumb to, I drew the short straw in this reconnaissance mission.

Yep ... I got freakin' clown duty. 

Now, it's not secret: I hate clowns. They're creepy. No matter what they try to do no performance of theirs is jolly and entertaining. All that make-up? They're hiding something, believe me. And they smell. I mean they smell bad.

So it was with an impending dread I reluctantly accepted my fate and got down to the business of clown surveillance.

To do the necessary spy work on these paint by numbers freaks, all I have to say is I'm thankful for the miniature drones we have in our Unbelievable arsenal. I can keep tabs on them without getting up close and personal. A week's scrutiny of these buffoons and this is what I know:

Listening in on the conversations of these performers, they love the past, the history of their craft ... which is something to be wary of first and foremost. I mean ... take a look at some of their predecessors and tell me they don't harbor some hidden agenda:

No matter how you look at the situation, clowns aren't cute:

One clown? Frightening enough. Get three in front of you and, I don't care who you are, the hackles on the back of your neck raise to uncanny heights:

Trust me on this: No make-up in the world is going to hide facial hair and make a clown look anything but devious ...

At any time? Clowns' temperaments can go from happy to "Kill! Kill! Kill!" at the drop of one of their funny hats:

Now, granted ... I haven't garnered much intelligence on these Bozos. (I mean ... they're clowns. They're not all that intelligent to begin with.) But there's something about them, something underlying, just beneath the surface, that's ready to blossom at the hint of a catalyst. Clark was right when he said "nothing good comes from circus performers having too much time and too little earning potential on their hands."

And the diffusing of the Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey Circus just might be that catalyst.

Nothing viable has turned up. Yet. But rest assured we continue to monitor the situation. Because, if there is anything remotely resembling a revolt or some such, you can bet your bottom dollar clowns will be leading the way ...

Three Rings... of Crime!

We, The Unbelievables, never want to scare you. So before we scare you, let me assure you that we're on it.
It, being the situation I'm about to tell you about, the one that will scare you.

THE CIRCUS IS COMING TO TOWN!

Whoa! Relax! I said we're on it!

Now, some of you who weren't scared by this announcement were probably thinking, "Yeah? The circus comes to town every year. What's the big deal?" Well, in case you missed the news, the Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey Circus is closing after its current run of shows. And if there's one thing we know from countless comic books, video games, cartoons and Batman movies with Danny DeVito in them, nothing good comes from circus performers having too much time and too little earning potential on their hands. It takes very few missed paychecks to go from this:

To this:

And while they may not look like they're up to anything nefarious, they're also clearly not inducing mirth and merriment.

So while I wouldn't go so far as to say that we're profiling these performers in anticipation of them breaking bad, we are monitoring their activities while re-watching the AMC series "Breaking Bad".

Former human cannonball Tuco Salamanca

For example, the Ringmaster (it always starts with the Ringmaster):

The sudden loss of a position of authority and all the esteem that comes with that, combined with the sudden loss of access to quality dental care and it's easy to see how a Ringmaster might take a dark turn.

The guys will detail some other characters we're keeping an eye on later this week, but rest assured, we're on it! Even though you're completely justified in being frightened beyond control by the idea of rogue circus performers terrifying you and your family.

Parameters

As Clark put it on Wednesday, "This wouldn't be the first time we've ever gotten a case and had to figure out what the parameters were first before we could form a plan and proceed."

How true, how true.

Something in the back of my noggin told me we would need to look further in depth in order to see what this was all about.

I spoke up. "Lads, lads. We're looking at this all wrong. Firstly, how do we know this is from Negative Charge?"

"Because it looks like him." Michael piped up.

"Ah, but does it though?" I replied.

"What are you talking about? His head's a TV!" Clark shot back.

"Exactly." I said.

There was a silence of about ten seconds before Clark said "Hang on... I see!"

"See what?" Michael asked.

"Remember the first time we encountered Negative Charge, Michael? Was that a TV on his head, or...?"

"Well, I'll be hornswoggled," replied Michael. "No, it was a computer monitor!"

"In other words, that there is NOT Negative Charge. I KNEW something smelled fishy," cried Clark. "And I don't mean your workshop-cum-restroom, either, Michael."

"But that's not all, fellows," I added. "Kill Your Television is more than just a statement. It's a song by Ned's Atomic Dustbin from the late '80s."

I quickly pulled up the video on my laptop. 




"Anything in the lyrics that might give us a clue?" asked Michael.

She said, she said
'You don't know s**t,
Because you've never been there'
She turned upon him,

Took him by the hair
Spun him round about,
Laughing as he fell about,
Sat down for a drink

In her father's favourite chair
Kill your television

"Well, I guess we all have favourite chairs, " I said. We all immediately set about taking apart our Soopr-Kumffii Recliners (basically La-Z-Boys on steroids) to see if there was anything suspicious inside them, but apart from finding $3.74, a ball of string and two marbles, they were clean.

"The other thing is, lads..." I started.

"YES??" Michael and Clark replied in unison.

"'Ned's Atomic Dustbin' is an episode of the classic 1950s comedy show "The Goon Show", which was first broadcast in January 1959, starring Harry Secombe, Spike Milligan and Peter Sellers."

"What - the Peter Sellers?!" the boys asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, The Peter Sellers!"

"Well, I'll be cornpoggled."

"So - hang on - there's three of them - there's three of us -  could it be that -that --"

"... whoever sent this card is calling us Goons?"

"Exactly. And whoever it is wants us to think it's from Negative Charge! Now who is sneaky enough and dumb enough to do a thing like that?!" 

Clark was riled. "I think I know." he said.
Then he stood up and went to the boot cupboard.

"What are you doing? " Michael and I cried in unison.

"Oh, I'm-a puttin' on mah defenestration boots! BWAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!"

And that is basically how Henri Petit was on the receiving end of another damn good kicking. Honest.

Planning is important

We were confused. There was the threatening tone of the message in the note:

"No more Mr. Niceguy. My days of consideration are long past. This time I mean business."

Then there was the card saying "KILL YOUR TELEVISION!"

Also, who knew he was a lefty?

But Negative Charge's head IS a television set. So was this a threat or a cry for help? Possibly both? And why break our TV? This wouldn't be the first time we've ever gotten a case and had to figure out what the parameters were first before we could form a plan and proceed...

• There was the time we prepared to battle an entire squad of female assassins, only to realize they were Girl Scouts selling cookies.
• The time we thought we were receiving medals but we had signed up to offer our property as a pick-up point for metal recycling.
• The multiple times the wrong person was kicked out of a window.

In an effort to not make the same mistake over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, We decided it would be good to have a pretty good grasp on the situation before we addressed it. 

That's where Jeff came in.

The (Not So Nice) Return Of Negative Charge

*ding dong* rang the doorbell at The Unbelieva-base.

Flipping on the security monitor Jeff saw no one. There was a note left, however. He retrieved it, opened it and read it.

"No more Mr. Niceguy. My days of consideration are long past. This time I mean business."

"Guys? Someone's up to something ..." Jeff called out to us.

Suddenly I heard Clark swearing in the den where he was engaged in a bit of recreational television viewing. Both Jeff and I walked in on him at the same moment. 

"Looks like things might get interesting," Jeff noted. "Look at this note we just got." I took it and read it. 

"Television's on the fritz for some reason," Clark muttered while I scanned the note.

"This is it?" I asked Jeff. "Who's it from?"

Jeff shrugged. "No clue. Oh ... wait. There's something else." He pulled out a card tucked in the corner of the envelope. "Uh oh. Uh ... Clark? I have a feeling the television's going to be out of commission for some time ..."

Jeff showed the card to Clark and I:

A different approach to this Eva Longoria situation

A tough nut to crack

That's when I had THIS idea:

ME: "Hey, if we can't get this Eva chick to play ball, let's try her husband! Maybe he'll be more reasonable on account of he's a dude."
JEFF: " Her husband? You mean media mogul José “Pepe” Bastén?

ME: "Uh, no. I mean the man she's married to."
MICHAEL: "Oh, do you mean her ex-husband, Tony Parker the San Antonio Spurs point guard?"

ME: "What? No!"
JEFF: "Her first husband, Tyler Christopher who is best known for his role as Nikolas Cassadine and Connor Bishop on the ABC soap opera General Hospital?"

ME: "Where are you guys getting these crazy names from? I'm talking about her husband, Tampa Bay Rays third baseman Evan Longoria!"

JEFF: "... She isn't married to him."
ME: "Of course she is. They have basically the same name."
MICHAEL: "Jeff's right. He is not Eva Longoria's husband."
ME: "Okay, well, her brother then. Whatever."
JEFF: "They're not related! At all!"
ME: "Come on. With their names being that close? What, is that some kind of coincidence."
MICHAEL: "Yeah. That's exactly what a coincidence is, actually. 'Oh look, things that are unrelated just happen to share some similar characteristics. What a coincidence!' What a huge waste of time!"
ME: "Oh."
JEFF: "Yeah. So now what?"
ME: "Maybe we can sue her?"

Hey, at least I tried!

Mission: Eva

Uhm ... no.

"When you are three cool, stylish, butt-kicking, no-nonsense crimefighters with wicked moves and sweet wheels like we are, it's inevitable that some unscrupulous character is gonna try and steal your mojo in order to make a quick cynical buck or five."

Being suave and stylish has its drawbacks, folks.

And that can only mean one thing: The holidays, peaceful as they were, are behind us and the start of the new year brings unwanted shenanigans. (Hokay ... that's two things. Work with me here.)

Who would have ever thought we'd have Eva Longoria to contend with going into January? Not me. And not any of the guys.

So, I was on the phone to The Law Offices of Poon lickety split. New Year pleasantries were exchanged with our buddy Chung Poon, our our crackerjack attorney at law, then it was down to business.

"Guys ... you don't really have a leg to stand on. It's not like Eva's swiping your image or your sense of style. Not even close. She's riding the coattails of Selleck's once-popular show. The only thing you two have in common is the word 'Unbelievable' ... that's it. If she used 'The UnbeliEVAbles' that would be a different story all together. I could slap here with some infringement jabs. But, as it stands, you've got nothing. And I'm sure you don't want to get underhanded about this. It's not worth it. Let it drop ..."

"I think you're underestimating her, Chung." I countered. "You're forgetting she has an ulterior motive: To reveal specific Unbelievables' trade secrets."

"You have proof of that?" Chung asked. "Because if not, it's still pointless to pursue. And even if that is her intention, the best thing you can do is let her trip up. Then I can pin something on her."

Naturally, the guys and I were disappointed. The last thing we wanted was this dim bulb shining any kind of disparaging light our way.

And that's when Clark came up with the following idea ...

Not Cool

You may recall some time ago when we told you all about our run-in with Magnum, PI. In case you've forgotten, click here.

So imagine our chagrin when we heard via that most reliable organ, The Sun (Britain's finest comic newspaper) that our dealings with Magnum are far from over.

Ohh yes.

Eva Longoria.

This goof.

I mean. Come on!

We fought for over seven years to get rid of Magnum. And now this daft bint wants to dredge up all our secrets again!

And as if that wasn't bad enough, look at the name of her production company! UnbeliEVAble. I mean, are you taking the piss, lady, or what!?

Looks like another job for the Poons.