Played out

We tracked Negative Charge down at one of his hideouts, an abandoned Radio Shack (well, it's still open but it is a Radio Shack) at the Stiletto Flats Galleria. Wanting to waste no time, we presented Jeff's theory and asked him if he was behind it. "That's fiendishly brilliant", he said. "So much so that I wish I had thought of it. Three weeks ago. Before I signed that document. Damn it, that might have worked!" "No, it wouldn't have", Michael replied. "The fact that we're standing here asking you about it now clearly indicates we would have figured it out." Negative Charge sighed and said, "Good point. Hence the reason for us signing. We simply can't win. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go set the clocks on the VCRs." Jeff stopped him. "Wait a minute. Why do all of you seem to be so in line with each other on this, to the point where it looks downright synchronized?" Negative Charge turned and said, "I guess we're finally learning all kind of things from you guys."

With that, we returned to the Unbelievabase. "Well, I guess that's it then", one of us said. Without words between us, because at this point we're so attuned to one another that sometimes we don't have to speak aloud, we started packing things up to be put into storage in case we ever need them again. Pretty soon, the place was practically empty. Michael restored the "broken" washer in the laundromat to fully functional before taking Ulf the Unbelievadog to a boarding kennel. Meanwhile, Jeff drove a bus full of Unbelievababes over to Marissa's newly re-christened "Miss Riss's Home for Wayward Showgirls and Former Unbelievababes". It's right across the street, but Jeff does love a nice bus ride, regardless of the length.

I was the last one, waiting for a truck to pick up the last of the storage containers. That's when I heard a knock at the door. Guess who it was?

Of course.

"Henri Petit! What are you doing here? Is this when you mount your attack? You trick us into breaking down our base, separating from each other and then you move in? Well, bring it on you wee, disgusting, vile..."
Henri shook his head and said, "No, that's not it at all. I just came over because...well...since this is over now...", as he started to choke up. "OUT WITH IT, HORRENDOUS TWERP!"
"Well, all I ever really wanted was for you guys to like me, so we could hang out and be pals. It was all a cry for attention. I just admire you all so much and it was so painful, facing your rejection all the time. And now that the whole thing is over and we're not on opposite sides, I thought maybe we could, I don't know, play a game. Like friends."

He took the game out of the box and set it up on one of the crates, near the window where we saw cars driving by, their drivers oblivious to what had taken place in the amazing-yet-non-descript building they had passed so many times over the years.
"Up to four can play but it looks like Michael and Jeff aren't here, so maybe just you and I?" He looked so pathetic and small and vulnerable and ugly. I said, "Sure Henri. Why not. Now are there actual rules to this game?" He said, "Yes, they're printed on the box down there on the floor." I bent down to pick it up and looked up just in time to see him, in a pair of oversized boots, rearing back to kick me out of the window.
Then everything went black.

Are We Being Played?

Well, it's taken a few days, but we are about 95% caught up. Ever since Negative Charge presented Michael with that rather extensive legal document, the three of us and Ulf the Unbelievadog have been calling all the foes, past and present (including some we haven't even gotten around to telling you about, such as Yodelin' Bob Trevino, the half-Mexican cowboy pigeon rustler, and society pages regular Mandy Rice-Pudden, champagne thief)that signed the document stating that their criminal days were over and they were finally giving in. 

Apparently, it's back to the life of a regular charro for Yodelin' Bob.

And Ms. Rice-Pudden wants to go straight, too.

However.

Like I said, we'd called almost all of them, and so far the responses had been identical. In fact, they'd almost all been word-for-word the same. Almost mantra-like, if you want to know the truth.

I voiced this opinion to Clark, Michael and Ulf quite early on in the process and they quickly told me I didn't know what I was talking about. Three hours later, weary and in need of a break, they looked at me and said - "you know, I think you're right. It's almost like they've been brainwashed. They all say exactly the same thing, like we're talking to a bunch of cult members."

"Yeah, and who's good at brainwashing?" 

"Well, I remember a fellow who had some... minions?"

"You don't mean... Negative Charge himself? You think he set us up?"

"Wuff!" agreed Ulf.

"Alright," said Clark, "let's go see what he has to say for himself. If we're being tricked into taking things easy, I might just have to defenestrate somebody!"


I'll let Clark pick up the tale on Friday.

The Unbelievables Take A Final Curtain Call?

The phone rang. I answered it. 

"Unbelieva-Base. This is Michael ..."

"Just the person I wanted to talk to. Michael? This is Negative Charge ..."

And so began a really strange day.

Negative Charge, so-called master of electricity, wanted to come over and talk. He had some important news for us and wanted to reach out to me first, thinking I was the most level-headed of the three. (I don't know where he got that information but I went with it.) "Sure. See you when I see you," I replied.

He arrived and I invited him into the parlor. I asked if he wanted a refreshment. "What's up?" I asked.

"I'm here as a representative of the coalition of foes of The Unbelievables," Charge began. "Quite simply, we wanted to put out to you guys we're finished with our evil doing ways. It's just not worth it any longer. Every time we try to do something - take over the world, for example - The Unbelievables are right there, foiling our plans. It gets old, let me tell you. Not to mention all the time it takes to plan these things. And the expense! Whew! Talk about hitting home! Between the pocketbook and the groundwork necessary to come up with some sort of viable world domination blueprint, well ... we give. We're done. The entire lot of us. We're hanging our hats for good. And every last one of us is on board with this, too. We even have an official signed and notarized say-so promising compliance."

I was stunned ... but I didn't let it show. I just nodded and listened attentively during his spiel. But ... was it a spiel? I thought so, simply out of caution and past experiences ...

... until he handed me the document.

I took it and looked it over. There was a lot of official wording and legal promises to the page. But it seemed to be on the up and up. It was signed by each and every ne-er do well we'd come across: Mac Ramey. Bernard "The Gingervator" Bigyott. The Leapers. Günther Parsifal McParshnipp. Little Debbie. Dr. Oldschool. The Klumpmasterflash Twins. Cripes ... even that foul midget Henri Petit had signed the thing. Clark was going to get a kick out of that. In fact, I was willing to bet cash money he'd want to hear it straight from the little imp's piehole Petit was relinquishing his nefarious ways. 

"Huh," I noted. "Is this a copy for us? Because we're going to have to verify this, Charge. It's not that I don't trust you. But ... you have priors, you know."

"By all means. Do what you have to do. And yes ... that copy is yours. It's completely official. Verify everything I've told you and get back to us. Contact our attorney, there, at the bottom of the page. He speaks for all of us. He and the courts will tell you this is completely legitimate, totally above board ..."

I showed Charge out and thanked him for coming by. As he left, he turned to me and stuck his hand out.

"Of course, with our exit, I suppose this will put The Unbelievables out of the crime and injustice fighting business. There won't be anything left for you to do, I imagine."

"We'll get back to you," I replied, ignoring his comment.

But ... was Negative Charge right? Was this truly the end of The Unbelievables? 

If We Were A Kids' Show...

Now it's time once again for our occasional dip into the Unbelieva-Mailbag...

This one is from Huw Rinal from Tan-Y-Bwlch, Wales, who writes:

Dear Unbelievables, 
     I know you had a TV show pilot that wasn't picked up by the networks, bach, isn'it, there's lovely. But if it could be rebooted as a kids' show, what sort of format would you like it to take - cartoon, live-action, 3D, computer animated, or what? There's lovely, isn'it?

Your pal from the valleys, bach, isn'it,

Huw Rinal.

Great question, and one I think we'll all have interesting opinions on. Myself, I'd like to see us as a Gerry Anderson-type action adventure show, with puppets as ourselves, like Thunderbirds or Joe 90. Intrigue, drama, espionage, technology, jumping out of planes, downhill skiing while shooting at people, etc. Like James Bond on a smaller scale.

Here's a couple of clips to give you an idea:







Can't you just see us kicking Henri Petit's butt in Supermarionation? Or knocking seven bells out of Little Debbie or Sam Snow while dangling dangerously from some exploding tower? Or even taking on extra intelligence a la  Joe 90 to defeat Negative Charge or Dr. Oldschool? And then winding down in the pool at Tracy Island with some lovely ladies (Hello, ladies!!)? 

I  think it would be a sweet idea. I may just get on the horn to some TV types and suggest it, but before I do, I'll have the guys weigh in on this topic.

Ciao!

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:

More Twists And Turns Than You Can Shake A Stick At

~~~moving on swiftly (we hope)~~~

The Renault stopped abruptly and Petit turned in his seat to face us, saying "So, Unbelie--", promptly falling out of his booster seat, dropping his ciggy, saying "shit" a few times, retrieving the still-burning smoke, realising the carpet was on fire, stamping it out and clambering back up into his seat, huffing and puffing to catch his breath, then finally spluttering, "So... Un... believables *cough*"

"Spit it out, you insufferable toe-rag," growled Clark, "before I defenestrate you again!"

That clearly rattled Petit and his eyes glowed with anger. Or did they? No, they didn't. It was merely the reflection of the roaring fire that was now raging on the floorboards where he had previously dropped his lit fag-end. 

We scrambled for the doors and each of us grabbed one of the TVD girls and bailed from the vehicle, gallantly rescuing them from the rapidly escalating conflagration.

"WAIT! WHAT ABOUT ME!!!" screamed the nasty toddler-like git.

"Shall we rescue him?" I asked the others.

"I suppose we have to if we want to find out what is going on," Michael replied, "although there's no immediate hurry."

"I CAN HEAR YOU!!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!" wailed Petit, so we resignedly went over and opened the door.

"Wait, the door was unlocked the whole time, you tiny freak! Was that some kind of trick?" I gasped incredulously.

"Well, normally I'd say yes, Unbelieva-goons, but sadly it pains me to say that I just couldn't reach the handle. You guys just don't know what it's like to be me, you know, it's hard, it really gets me down someti--"

His pitiful speech was abruptly stopped by the van exploding (as these things are apt to do, especially in movies, which was somewhat ironic considering we were standing in what appeared to be an abandoned movie set).

"Well, that's our ride gone" said Clark.

Thus far the TVD's hadn't uttered a peep, but just at that moment one of them said, "Sorry guys..."

We heard the familiar sound of a gun being cocked and turned slowly to see the girls pointing weaponry at us.

From behind them we saw the doors of all the fake buildings opening and the familiar figures of many of our nemeses spilling from them - Sam Snow, Little Debbie, Negative Charge, The Double "D" Dames, to name a few -  all led by Tie-Po and Mac Ramey. All of them armed, and looking more than a little menacing.

What was the meaning of all this? Why were we at an old movie studio surrounded by villains? What did they want? How are we going to get home mow? How did we get out of this alive? (Because we did, you know. That's how come I'm able to write this. So there!).

Well you may ask. Fear not though, for more will be revealed on Friday!

~~~continuing on with all the continuation and stuff~~~

Hook, line and sinker

By now, you're probably familiar with some of our sub-departments, like The Unbelievababes, our (poorly managed) mailroom and our interns. One department that doesn't get attention, due largely to the stealthy nature of the work they perform, is The Unbelievabaits. I'm going to go ahead and reveal some info about these brave crimefighters because I'm pretty sure most of our foes are still too stupid to resist falling for them every time, even with the knowledge that they exist.

"Stop right there, you sexist boob! We see where you're going with this sexist practice", some of you are saying. "Using attractive young women to entice evildoers is not just sexist, it's really sexist!" Yes, it would be...if that were the case. But The Unbelievabaits are actually males! Male actors, to be specific, committed so deeply to their craft that they're masters of emulating the female form like the earliest Shakespearean thespians.
Here they are, off duty...

They insist on dressing like this during their downtime. I don't know.

Pictured L to R: Ian, Nigel, Clive, Arthur, Philip, Mookie, Pete, William, George, Jonathan, Phillip, Austin, Craig, Roger, Paul, Darren, Gregor, Stanley, Otto and Glenn.

And here they are, ready for a mission...

Pictured L to R: Ian, Nigel, Clive, Arthur, Philip, Mookie, Pete, William, George, Jonathan, Phillip, Austin, Craig, Roger and Paul

Pictured L to R: Darren, Gregor, Stanley, Otto and Glenn.

Remarkable, isn't it? We just get a couple of the boys here to stroll through a bad guy's hideout or even when they're in the middle of committing an actual crime and they lose all focus (the bad guys, not the Unbelievabaits). It's no wonder that the likes of a Negative Charge or Henri Petit might be led astray and knocked off their game. Of course, all 20 members of this elite force are fully trained in Unbelieva-Foo in case things get out of hand, but so far that hasn't happened. Once you get a Negative Charge or a Henri Petit distracted, it's pretty easy to swoop in and take them down. It's simply a matter of getting them to... take the bait.

Leap Of The Lame

"Perhaps Michael can unearth some more info about them on Friday."

And "unearth" some more info I did. Reluctantly.

Let me explain ...

The Leapers aren't your ordinary ne'er do wells as you've read. Leaping about? Appearing only every 4 years as Leap Year's Day approaches? What idiocy is that, anyway?

And, truth be told, they're not that adept at thievery or as baddies. As Clark stated, they're "more a gaggle of annoying boobs" than anything else.

But, pain that it may be, we're called upon to quash their antics every election year like clockwork. It's really not that hard.

We find them, they get excited at our appearance, they get more agitated than usual, they do more leaping than usual and we nab them in mid leap. There's not much they can do about it. Easy, peasy.

But ... that "unearthing" I mentioned above ...

It seems the lot of them are from Down Under, I discovered. We didn't know this until recently. They neatly and effectively masked their Aussie accents for some reason -- we just assumed they were from somewhere in the states.

Anyway, some of my sleuthiness revealed they almost worship the Sony PlayStation character Crash Bandicoot. Their logic? Crash was continuously leaping about and crashing into stuff. In the case of the original game he was developed for, Crash "crashed" into crates releasing puzzle pieces to solve puzzles. There was more crashing than leaping, but the leaping part of the character stuck with The Leapers. (Because ... would you believe a gang of sub-par villains named "The Crashers" ... ??? Sounds more like they break into residences and pass out cold 'til morning.)

Thus, the somewhat perplexing origin of The Leapers, such that it is. I know, pretty lame. But what are you going to do? We don't give bad guys their names, they didn't give us ours. (Which, incidentally, is a pretty badass moniker for a top-notch crime fighting team.)

In many ways? The Leapers are a sad, sorry excuse for thugs. Dumb as Henri Petit is, at least he's got some skills. As "nice" as Negative Charge ("Master Of Electricity") is, he sports a menacing computer monitor for a head. The Leapers? They leap. And commit simple thievery, what they believe is the condolence prize for their inability to make it as premiere athletes. Wow.

And there you have it. *yawn* Now? We need to skedaddle and go monitor what those dolts are up to. Life may not always be glamorous as an Unbelievable ... but ...

Wait ... what? Am I goofy?!? Life as an Unbelievable is kick ass! We wouldn't want it any other way!

Weekend? And Unbelieva-Babes? Here we come ... !!!

Unexpected Gifts (pt 2)

I got...

NEGATIVE CHARGE!

That's right, I pulled the card from the undeniably-evil-yet-unfailingly-polite electro-genius. I know everybody was expecting me to get someone else, but honestly this was the first randomly-pulled card I got after throwing back 16 or 17 with a return address of "HP". Sorry, I know that might be bending the rules but in what universe does a small, mewling, nicotine-saturated yambag like that get to ever be called a "winner"?
Anyway, here's how it went with Negative Charge...

NC: Hey, this is just super. I'm so honored! Come on in, have a seat. Can I get you anything?
ME: No. That's one.
NC: Oh ho! Right down to business! That's crafty of you. I guess I'd better not waste any more questions, eh?
ME: No. Two.
NC: Ouch! Got me again! All righty. Once bitten, twice shy. Twice bitten, then what?
ME: ...
NC: Withdrawn!
ME: Okay.
NC: All right then. You are aware that you and your chums stand between me and my goal to dominate the world and that for that reason I have to destroy you?
ME: Yes. Three.
NC: Nothing personal, you understand.
ME: ...
NC: That was a statement, not a question!
ME: Let's go.
NC: Okay then. In my efforts to gather operating capital to finance my schemes that will result in the downfall of society and highlighted by your painful deaths, should I rob museums or banks?
ME: Umm...
NC: Oh gosh, I didn't phrase that as a Yes or No question. I am so sorry! Totally my fault. Okay, should I rob banks?
ME: No. That's four.
NC: I don't mean from a moral standpoint.
ME: Oh. Then yes. THAT's four.
NC: Thanks for the mulligan! Ha ha!
ME: No problem.
NC: Is three henchmen too many?
ME: No. Five.
NC: Is eight too many?
ME: No. Eight is enough.
BOTH: Ha ha ha! (high-fives exchanged)
NC: Is an underground hideout a good investment in 2015?
ME: Yes. Seven.
NC: What's the deal on Marissa? Should I ask her out?
ME: No!! Eight.
NC: Okay, okay. Relax.
ME: It's cool.
NC: Are pre-wedding jitters normal or a sign that I should call things off?
ME: Didn't you just ask me about dating Marissa?
NC: I'LL ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE!!
ME: All right! Geez!
NC: Please excuse my outburst.
ME: No problem. Anyway, yes. And then no. Nine and ten.
NC: Is it appropriate to recognize the hard work of a henchman with a gift or an award instead of a raise in salary?
ME: Yes. One more.
NC: Oh, you know, I've just had such a super time today. I'll yield my final question in lieu of thanking you for making yourself available. It's been just a hoot and a half and I'm sorry that the next time I see you, I'll be killing you and Jeff and Michael. Please say hi to them for me, won't you?
ME: Yes. And that's twelve.
BOTH: Ha ha ha! (high-fives exchanged again)

Okay, last but not least, it's Jeff's turn now!

It's (Not So Much) A Halloween Mystery

Negative Charge

The single-most puzzling (and polite) villain ever

Remember Monday's post? Where Clark suggested you send entries into us to be judged Halloween Day? This very day?

And Jeff's? Wherein he intimated cryptically "there may be a prize in it for you" ... ???

Have you seen the comment sections on both those posts? You'll notice they're blank as a 5th grader's newly purchased spiral-bound notebook - as blank as the day they were created.
 
Now, as popular as The Unbelievables are, you might be asking yourself: "Hey ... Unbelievables: How can this possibly be?!? Where are all the entries?"

Well ... we thought that very same thing. And, doing a little digging, we've got an answer for you ...

It just so happens 1,258 entries were submitted to both Clark's and Jeff's posts combined. Not a single one of them showed up on the site though.

And currently? There's no way those entries are showing up any time soon.

How do we know this? Is there anyone behind the gaff? You bet your sweet Aunt Patootie we know:

So called "Master Of Electricity" Negative Charge.

He and his "minions" Kevin, Bob and Ted are the instigators and "master minds" behind the absence of entries with Negative Charge himself taking full credit for the deed. How do we know this?

A letter we received from the dolt:

Dear Unbelievables:

Thought I would pull a little Halloween "prank" on you and your plans to hold a costume contest. (Sorry ... but, you know ... I'm a villain. It's my nature.)

Consider it "payback" for you three foiling my plans over the years. (Apologies for holding a grudge.)

Sincerely,
Negative Charge

P.S. Again, please accept my heartfelt acknowledgments for messing with your contest. It's what I do.

(Seriously, the guy is one of the weirdest super criminals we've ever encountered. Who apologizes for being bad?)

So, Charge put the ki-bosh on our contest plans, folks. We know all of you we're looking forward to some high-falutin' costumed fun. Things don't always work out. The best laid plans, y'unnerstan' ...

As consolation, I'm providing one of my all-time favorite (and puzzling) costumes ever:

I absolutely love this costume ...

At any rate, have a Happy Halloween, Unbelieva-Fans ... !!!

Villains Row

It's come to The Unbelievables' attention our followers would like a "showcase" of some of the villains we come up against.

So being the giving and stylish fellows we are (It's our nature!), we've added a new page to the site. 

See the tabs at the top of this page? (What?!? You didn't know there were clickable tabs up there? If not, you certainly haven't been paying much attention to our blog, have you?) You'll notice there's a brand new tab thrown into the mix: Villains Row.

From time to time - and specifically this week as introduction to this new feature - Clark, Jeff and I will be "highlighting" our adversaries.

First up? Our most recent tormenter Negative Charge who unceremoniously shut the lights out on us last week.

Check the page periodically from here on out. We'll include bios, tidbits, tales and snippets on those we've countered previously as well as some surprises here and there. 

Plus, as new information comes forth on some rival or another, the page will be updated ... or in the event there's information The Unbelievables feel you need to know about somebody planning monkey business.

Please enjoy!

A Re-Volting Development Chapter 3 (or: "And Then There Was Light")

Facts:

• The Unbelievables are comrades in arms and good buddies
• We're fearless defenders of the common good
• We're upstanding (and stylish!) citizens (... duh ...)
• We're nestled securely as the number one "go-to" establishments for the public in beautiful Stiletto Flats, Nevada
• Additionally, The Unbelievables are one of the Top 10 revenue generators in the state. You probably wouldn't have guessed that. We donate a lot of our income (reward money for ousting bad guys and the like) to the betterment of the state. (It's public record. Go ahead ... look it up.)

With facts such as these embedded in absolute certitude, is there any doubt I had a plan going forward to deal with Negative Charge and his nefarious plans? Of course not ... and here's how that went down:

So ... talking to the guys "in secret" while we were in the clutches of Negative Charge? Well ... let's just say I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was listening in. What kind of super villain would he be, regardless of his polite proclivities, if he wasn't eavesdropping on our conversation?

What Charge didn't realize, however, was the "key" to our little powwow, when Jeff chided me: "You're better than that." Nothing like a little dissension in the ranks to help convince an unsuspecting evil doing nemesis (and a new one at that) something wasn't going quite right. Gets'em every time.

With our little huddle complete and a nod of acknowledgment to each other (even though the guys really didn't know what I was up to), Clark called out to Charge: "Hokay ... we're done here."

Our nemesis visibly lit up with anticipation - something not so easily done when you have a computer monitor for a head.

 Is Negative Charge visibly lit with anticipation here?

Or is he just pretending to use his hands as futuristic ray guns?

Clark added: "We'd like to admit to defeat, Charge. You've obviously caught us with our pants down, so to speak ..."

"In Michael's case, that's truer than you'll ever know," Jeff chimed in.

I continued: "What say we head over to our Unbelieva-Base and I'll introduce you to the spoils of your victory?"

"Capital idea!" Charge beamed enthusiastically.

So, with his minions in tow, we traipsed over to our digs.

And the first location I led Charge and his posse to? Well ... this room:
 

Clark and Jeff caught the clue and began volunteering information.

"Yep ... here it is. Our fabulous central control room. This is where we get it done," Jeff gushed proudly.

Negative Charge was stunned. He did a complete 360 turn in order to take the entire room in.

Clark picked up from there: "Being a super villain, you have one yourself, don't you? Where you monitor your enemies and plan evil doings and stuff, right?"

Charge was disgusted. "What the ... ?!?? What the hell is this?!?" He began pointing at stuff. "Is that the skeleton of an old stereo monitor?!? And why is it in front of a toilet? Wait ... why is there a toilet in here? Better question: Why is the lid UP?!? All these panels should be covered for safety! There's wiring all over the place ... and in the vicinity of water, too! For Pete's sake - there are cobwebs in ever corner of the room! Don't you guys ever clean ... ?!? This place is a shambles! This isn't a control room ... it's a pigsty! You guys are slobs! You aren't worth the effort! Come on Kevin! Bob ... let's go! Ted, who said you could sit down?!? Let's get out of here ..."

And, just like that, Negative Charge was out of our hair. (No one ever said he was the sharpest tool in the shed.)

  Negative Charge's "groupies" aren't exactly members of Mensa, either ...

"Good job, Michael." Clark congratulated me when Charge stormed out. "Jeff and I never doubted you for a moment. We knew you had matters in hand ..."

"Uh, huh," I responded. "I thought he'd never leave. I'm taking my pants off ..."

Jeff suddenly got animated: "Hey, guys! Let's celebrate another Unbelievables' win! I know it's not Tuesday ... but who's up for some whipped potatoes ... ?!??"

Side Note: 10 minutes after Negative Charge and his companions left, our power came back on ... you know, because he's a considerate and polite super villain ...

A Re-Volting Development chapter 2

When Jeff sent us this picture:

We were deeply concerned. That looks like some scary stuff. Michael and I went right down to Join Jeff at the A-1 Kwik Kwality Sparky Corp. Inc. and Co. Ltd. We were greeted at the front door by this fellow

 

wearing a computer monitor on his head. He was very excited to see us. "OhmyGod, The Unbelievables! You guys, they showed up! My plan worked!", he screamed to some guys in an office behind him, the guys being shocked in the above photo. He ushered us inside and offered us seats and soft drinks. We weren't there for a social visit and wanted to know what this was all about. "What's this all about?", Michael asked. "Oh! Well, see, I'm a super villain and this is my base of operations. I am... Negative Charge, the master of electricity! And you, The Unbelievables, are my prisoners!" "Uh huh", I answered. "And who are those guys and why were you shocking them?" "Ah, my minions! They do my evil bidding!" One of the guys spoke up. "Hi. I'm Kevin. We work here and he's our supervisor. Sometimes he duct tapes tasers to his hands and zaps us. He says it makes us work faster. It's kind of annoying." "Why do you put up with it?",Michael asked. "Well, the pay is decent and the  benefits package is top-notch. It's actually not a bad work environment, aside from the tasing." One of the others chimed in, "We wear jeans on Fridays and sometimes there are mini-muffins in the breakroom. Hey guys, I'm Bob and that's Ted", introducing the entire staff. Ted waved but continued working at his computer. "Enough talk!", Negative Charge butted in. "My turn! I am in charge here! I control the electricity, I control these minions, I control the distribution of baked goods here in the office, and now...NOW, I control you, The Unbelievables. He raised his hands menacingly towards us and Jeff said, "Please don't tase us." He said, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't?" and I said "Because we don't like that and would appreciate it if you didn't do it." He seemed taken aback, and said, "Oh. Well, all right then" and lowered his hands un-menacingly. "Hey!", the guy named Kevin yelled and Negative Charge said, "Silence!". Jeff said, "Thank you. And since we're asking for favors, could we please have our electricty back at our secret headquarters? We have all kinds of important computers and other crime-fighting gizmos that we can't operate without it. I mentioned that there was almost a full gallon of butter pecan ice cream in the freezer that was at serious risk of melting. "Oh", said Negative Charge. "I'm sorry but I can't do that. This is my first go as a super villain and it would look really bad for me if I just gave you back your power. I mean, I set up here in Stiletto Flats for the express purpose of engaging you, The Unbelievables. If I cave right in just because it would just wreck my credibility. I mean, I just got this helmet to fit properly", as he pointed to the monitor on his head. "Nothing personal, you understand." "Of course", Michael said. "Do you mind if I talk to the boys for a second?" "Oh, by all means!" Michael huddled us all together and whispered, "My research is about to pay off. I think I have just the thing to send this evil yet thoroughly considerate and polite ne'er do well a message. Let's 'light him up', guys. Commence 'Operation: Blackout'". We didn't say anything and Michael said, "What?". Jeff shook his head sadly and said, "You're better than that." 

But anyway, we did Michael's plan, which he will tell you about next! 

A Re-Volting Development

Many apologies, folks, for the lateness of this post. We would have been posting yesterday, were it not for the fact that yesterday here in Stiletto Flats, Nevada, we were out of juice. No power. The electricity was not forthcoming.

Now for a while Michael (the resident 'boffin' of the group) has been trying to build a self-contained off-grid power backup system, involving solar, wind, wave motion and more solar, thermal heat pumps and geodesic domes. He'll occasionally hole up in his workshop and can be heard tinkering around and occasionally shouting when he hurts himself, all the while listening to the strains of Mantovani, which he says helps him to think straight. The other day I poked my head round the door while he was at the donut shop gathering, ahem, supplies, and snapped a picture of what I saw.

Anyhoo, so yesterday the power went out and Michael's jimmy-rigging did not kick in, so naturally I went outside to check if it was just us or the whole neighborhood. Darn the luck. Everyone else was still on, from Marissa's Home For Wayward Showgirls to Vincent Tran's House O'Pho. So, Clark checked the fuse box. Nope, he says. Everything looks kosher. So, admitting defeat, we decided to call in the pros. 

We tried every electrician's number in the Stiletto Flats phonebook. To be honest, there were only three. No answer, too busy, closed for vacation, you know the story. Until on the back of the book I see a full-page glossy ad for "A-1 Kwik Kwality Sparky Corp. Inc. and Co. Ltd." Sounded legit. No working phone number, but an address. I thought I'd pay them a call.


When I got there, this was the scene that presented itself to me.

I'll let the others tell you what the meaning of all this was, and how we got our power back on. Meantime, ciao.