What's More Important Than The POTUS Gone Missing?

Far be it that we Unbelievables shirk our responsibilities.

We're known for our resoluteness, our uncompromising courageousness in the face of danger, being mavens of fashion and our gracious attitude toward the ladies. (Hello, Ladies!)

But I digress. Regarding this "Obamagone" business (and Jeff hit the nail on the head with his final declaration in Monday's post:

"More on this story as it develops."

Well guess what? Nothing has developed.

Not a single thing. There are no further developments. Nil. Nada. Zippo. Zilch.

As far as we know The President is still jib-jabbin' around with the likes of David Letterman as he was Monday evening. Here, see for yourself:



It's not like he's Vladimir Putin disappearing for a month (or more) at a time, completely out of the public eye. And you must be aware President Obama is surrounded by secret service 24/7. It's a little difficult to fall off the face of the earth for any length of time without them knowing.

So ... when something comes up? You'll be the first to know. We're on it. We're privy to the 911 on the POTUS.

Besides, there are more important things than The President gone missing. (And let me clarify one last time: We highly doubt he's truly missing.) 

What's more important you ask? How about this past Monday, Star Wars Day? (Hokay ... maybe not.) Well ... what about yesterday, Cinco de Mayo? (Uhmmm ... no.)

You're right. Neither of those is really important. But you know what is important? I'll tell you what's important folks:

Today is May 6th! Monica Lewis' birthday ... !!!

What's more important than that ... ??!?

What part of "Butt-kicking" do you not understand?

Of course, dressing for success is always a good idea...

But ultimately, while we always strive for being stylish, it's the butt-kicking that puts gravy on the potatoes.

Here. certified Unbelieva-Babe Mary Parker shows me (under my training video name of Lou Leonard) a tiny sample of exactly how that works as Jeff and Michael sit on the sidelines, awaiting the opportunity to take their charges through the wringer.

I say a tiny sample because an Unbelieva-Babe has to be able to do more than defend herself against mashers in disturbingly short shorts and sleeveless t-shirts; she may find herself facing off against assassins, henchmen, ninjas, goons, lugs, brutes, robots, sea monsters, zombies or worse, and we may not be around to help. An Unbelieva-Babe has to be able to open her own jar of pickles, if you get my meaning.
So put some jaunty supper music on the HiFi, get yourself some beefcake to jostle you around and follow this video precisely.
Or be the next Monica Lewis.

Yeah, you'll have a better chance trying to follow the video.

So ... You Want To Be An Unbelieva-Babe ...

Time and again we've mentioned there is no admission into the lofty ranks of Unbelievability ... not as an Unbelievable at any rate.

However, if you have a hankering to become an Unbelieva-Babe, well ... that's an entirely different situation all together.

First, there's the necessary need to keep fit ...


There's plenty of basic crime-fighting skills to be learned, both book smart learning and street smart learning, regardless of the fact the gals aren't expected to tangle with any bad guys. (It never hurts to learn ...)

Those two areas alone can be daunting. And if they are, it's wise stop right there. Because that's only scratching the surface.

There's so, so much more. 

Of course as previously mentioned, there's no competing with the ultimate Unbelieva-Babe Monica Lewis. But ... there are ways to "get in good" with The Unbelievables to reach that seemingly impossible Unbelieva-Babe status. 

Clark and Jeff will provide further details.

But be warned: You best be careful what you wish for ... 

Ghosts of Costume Parties Past

Now, you may be wondering (you may not be wondering actually, I've no idea), "Since you guys are experts in disguise, you must love getting dressed up for little or no reason, so why do you only have ONE costume contest per year?".

Well, it's true, we ARE rather fond of dressing up. And we LOVE a good costume party.

Us with Marissa at the 1968 Halloween Mixer. Who's who? Hint: Marissa's on the right.

We've been holding costume parties since forever. But it was only after a couple years we realised what a good opportunity fancy dress balls present to us crimefighting types. Opportunities to gather information.

We decided it would be a rather brilliant wheeze if we were to put the word out on the grapevine that we were hosting a costume party, knowing that eventually, word would reach the criminal underground.

Master criminals are very fond of dressing up and showing off (think The Joker, The Penguin, et al). Even ugly toddler Henri Petit and the diabolical Lester Von Hornrimm have been known to slap on some greasepaint and funny clothes from time to time - and to dress up for a party too (see what I did there? Ha ha ha!).

That's Henri in the middle.

Any road up, what we'd do is this...

Get some of the Unbelievababes to work the door, serve the drinks etc. All in costume, of course.

Guests arrive, in costume.

Everyone's in costume, nobody knows who is who, the guests eat, drink, relax and start talking shop.

We have microphones placed everywhere, recording conversations between evil-doers and ne'er-do-wells.

It's brilliant. And because nobody knows who is wearing what, sometimes we don't even show up!

We're elsewhere, kicking butt and fighting crime. 

But anyway, that's not the point. I was supposed to talk about entries from previous Unbelievables costume contests. There were many clangers and howlers I can recall, but my favourite one is this - it's wrong and right on so many levels I have to give it a special mention.

The name's not quite right, and there are only two, but come on! Borderline genius, Elsie and Fay Rectangle from Attleboro, MA!

Oh, and a special Happy Halloween greeting to our spectacular friend Monica Lewis (yes, that Monica Lewis, who is seen here getting in on the act.)

P.S. The real reason we only have ONE costume contest per year? Halloween, natch.

Get those entries in! There may be a prize in it for you! Or not.

Happy Birthday to the ultimate Unbelieva-babe!

(We'll return to your regularly scheduled stylish adventure after this...)

Now you know we love the ladies, ALL the ladies, all the time. However, we would be less than honest if we were to give any of you gals the impression that you ever have a shot at being our #1. That spot is reserved always and forever for our one and only. We're used to fighting evil-doers and crime-committers of all kinds but the only dame that ever caused us to fight among ourselves is Monica Lewis, a fight I'm convinced that I've won because there's no question she likes me more than Jeff and Michael.
Anyway, today is Monica's 91st birthday and we are united in wishing her an Unbelievably Happy Birthday!

And to the rest of you ladies out there, there's nothing wrong with competing for second place!

Elvis and The Unbelievables

Well do we Unbelievables remember the sadness we felt when we heard the news on August 16, 1977. Elvis, the King of Rock'n'Roll, was no more. We couldn't believe it. We didn't believe it. We were gutted. Because we were not only mourning the loss of one of our idols, but also the death of an honorary Unbelievable.

I remember the first time we met Elvis.

We were at the HQ and heard on the wire that The King was filming on location in Vegas.

"Why, that's just down the road from us!" cried Michael excitedly. "Let's vamoose, muchachos!"

We hit the road, taking along our pal Monica Lewis, as she was not only a fan of The Pelvis but we figured she might be handy in getting us onto the set to meet the King. How right we were.

We got as far as meeting that immense tool Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis' manager. He kept us talking for what seemed an age, professing to be a fan of ours and wanting to discuss all sorts of plots and conspiracy theories and whatnot. Every time we made for Elvis' dressing room door, he would start waffling on about another topic and eventually we had to distract him. This is where the lovely Monica helped. Clark said, "Say, Colonel Tool, uh, Tom, have you met our friend Monica?" and so enraptured was he by her charms, we were able to slip away from the awful old bore and into the King's presence.

Turns out he was an even bigger fan of ours than Colonel Tom, so much so that he wanted to help us in whatever way he could. After much discussion we decided to let Elvis be an informant, but he wanted to go one further.

He was stunned to be able to join us.

He suggested that since he travelled all over the globe, we should let him set up an international network of celebrity informers, and this is what he did. 

New recruit: Scrappy the wonder Dog. Not really had much info from him, but awwww...

Wherever he went he recruited other entertainers and thus we have the global network that exists today. Not only that, but whenever he found himself in the neighbourhood, he would drop in for a game of Parcheesi or touch football. 

He kicked our asses that day.

He had great ideas for parties too. Here we see him at our "Oops! I Forgot My Pants!" party...

Then there was the "Overblown Prog Rock" social evening...

And the "Stand On A Ladder and Sing" mixer. 

He also enjoyed pranks, as do we. I remember the time we glued his nose to a mirror. Oh how we laughed.

He was a very friendly and amenable fellow who would do anything as long as there was a deep-fried chili cheeseburger and a peanut butter and banana sandwich involved.

Unfortunately, this was to become his downfall. Not just the food, but he was such a well-meaning chap, as soon as some rough types out there found out that Elvis had a predilection for such grease-laden comestibles, they would have him do their evil bidding by tempting him with such treats and then keep him silent by plying him with alcohol and drugs. Then he got hooked on those, and this took a terrible toll on his body.

As you see.

So that day when the news came, we just turned on the TV and watched Viva Las Vegas, reminiscing about our good friend and compadre Elvis Aaron Presley and all that he had achieved in his all-too-brief life.

It wasn't long before the rumours about his death being faked started to circulate. There were so many reported 'sightings' of Elvis that even we Unbelievables couldn't be sure. However, we do now know the truth, for a couple of years following Elvis' demise, one of his recruits, a young lady named Kirsty MacColl, sent us a coded message that confirmed once and for all that the King was no more.





"There's a guy works down the chip shop swears he's Elvis," sang the lovely Kirsty. "But he's a liar, and I'm not sure about you." That was all we needed to know - anyone who says they're Elvis, and therefore anyone who says they've seen Elvis despite the fact that he was meant to be dead, is a bald-faced liar.

I'll leave it to the other guys to tell you more about our association with Mr. Presley, but I'll leave you with this thought: Kirsty herself died in mysterious circumstances in the year 2000. Spooky, no?