Kip, The Mail Boy

It's no secret the super headquarters of The Unbelievables is housed in Stiletto Flats, Nevada.

And in all that time, there has been exactly one - ONE - postal employee who has handled mail for The Unbelieva-base. And, on the rare occasion, delivered it, too.

Kip. Kip the Mail Boy.

I befriended Kip when the base was being built ... or more properly, "renovated." He was slight, pale and introverted. (Clark didn't like him at the start because, during the time or three he made a special delivery, he blocked the drive, inevitably when Clark needed to head somewhere. Kip had the uncanny knack of getting in Clark's way.)

Kip had a way about him that encouraged you to want to get to know him. He was a good kid. Helpful. In fact, we were so taken by him, we fed his natural curiosity about the Unbelieva-Base when he asked, gave him tours and even promoted the place through him. He was our "unofficial spokesman" ... which confused the bejeebers out of our enemies.

Think about it: If you were our nemesis, wouldn't you think it odd we had a spokesman? Why in the world would anyone want to bring attention to a secret lair? (Well, for one thing, it's not such a secret lair, truth be told.)

More so, when you're that transparent about something, there's a natural dichotomy of the mind that questions "Are they hiding something?" while at the same time revealing see-through honesty some can't fathom.

And that was the genius of our plan ... the method to some of our madness.

Jeff and Clark have more to tell you about Kip. Clark might even unleash some of his anger issues about the boy.

Me? I'm happy go lucky with 'ole Kip.

I mean ... he's just The Mail Boy ... 

UnbelievAlert: Where is Jeff???

Not to alarm anyone, but our colleague Jeff is missing! He was supposed to contribute today's entry into the saga of The Little Golden Boy but he didn't and we don't know where he is. He could be tied to a chair in a warehouse filled with explosives, he might be dead, or he could be (gasp!) somewhere in England.
The point is he's gone and we have to find him. Obviously, it's TOP PRIORITY #1 for Michael and I, but we'd like you guys to keep your eyes peeled too.

Back In The Back Of The Laundromat

So ... you'd think: 
 

"Jeff? Clark? Michael? We've read the last two entries in the mythos of The Unbelievables and, while interesting in and of themselves, you're tossing out quite a few whys and wherefores of your super secret and clandestine digs in Stiletto Flats, Nevada for all to know. Aren't you leaving yourself open to infiltration? Aren't you, in essence, inviting bad guys who wish to do you nothing but bad to you do you bad? Aren't you thumbing your noses at them to exact their revenge? Aren't you rolling out a red carpet for them to practice their monkey business? Sabotage your headquarters? All the while with their availability of getting their whites whiter than white and their color coordinates brighter than bright?"

One would think so, wouldn't one? But we're The Unbelievables, folks. Rest assured their are plenty of safeguards set in place to deter villains. (And some have come from trial and error. We like to think we learn from our mistakes ... such as that time we accidentally set Jeff's hair afire from ... that ... thing. But that's a tale for another time.)

The fact of the matter is this: It's not the safeguards so much as our fondness for jocularity that protects our headquarters. The unwitting evildoer is pretty simple-minded much of the time. (Trust us when we say there are a ton of them out there who are dumber than a bag of hammers.) Oh ... there are the geniuses and the brainiacs, the math wizards and those whose sheer brute strength is able to move mountains. But they all have a weakness, each and every one of them. Many times, that weakness is their single-minded focus on world domination (most villains) ... or eradicating toys from the face of the earth (Sam Snow aka "Frosty The Snowman") ... or pilfering each and every can of Spam in the continental United States (the no good Chipped McBeef). You see ... when the bad guys zero in on their wants, it's pretty easy to fool them. And if they think they can infiltrate the Unbelieva-Base with said blinders on, they're sadly mistaken. 

One of the armaments we employ is so basic it's downright comical. And that's precisely why we use it. It's the old "Six Quarter" defense.

We have a sign at the entrance of the laundromat just for the bad guys, directing them to the rear of the establishment. There, they find yet another herald that simply states "Entry to the Unbelieva-base. 6 Quarters, please." While they're digging in their pockets (reprobates rarely have quarters on their person, let alone 6 quarters), they're nabbed right then and there with little effort. It amazes us how gullible some of these heels are when it comes to simple bait.

Many such buffers are built into the Unbelieva-base. I'm not going to give away all our trade secrets. That wouldn't be prudent.

So ... again you'd think: 

"Jeff? Clark? Michael? What about things such as nuclear attack or somesuch? Isn't that a concern?" 

And the answer to that would be "No." Quite simply because: 1) It's too costly to fortify against nuclear annihilation; 2) While we're non-governmentally affiliated, good 'ole Uncle Sam would protect us against any incoming nuclear threat just the same as if some henchman launched same at a Wisconsin dairy farm, and; 3) Who says The Unbelievables don't have multiple Unbelieva-bases set throughout the country and abroad?

Silly criminal harbingers of doom. They're of little consequence when it comes to our headquarters, our handy, dandy "lavanderia" and our neighborly social attractants stocked with refreshments.

I have to go pull the car 'round now. I think Clark and Jeff are calling out our first case of the new year. 

So ... 2013? Worry not: You're safe in the hands of ...

... The Unbelievables ...