Not so U-File ...

Jeff note Monday: 

"We solve cases and kick butts. That's our main function. But every now and again we are asked to deal with stuff that's more paranormal, supernatural and extraterrestrial ..."

True. To the extent we did have to set up a hotline to field those U-File requests. 

And, naturally, quite a few calls of the shenanigan variety intermingled with "legitimate" calls as you can well imagine. Kip and Ulf get a kick out of passing some of the stranger ones our way, making the tedium of sifting through those U File calls a little less dreary. (Well ... for Kip at any rate. Ulf doesn't really take any notes on what comes in.) Here ... see for yourself:

Unbelievables:

Oprah! She's an extra-terrestrial ... right? She's gotta be! Her "mind control" abilities run rampant when she congregates an audience! Folks'll buy her books at her mere mention! Didn't she do that Weight Watchers gig? Any idea how much money that company made off her and her supernatural power to sway people on over? Couldn't we wrangle her into doing some good for a change, you know ... like transfix the likes of North Korea's Kim Jong Un or The Kardashians and the like and obliterate them from the planet? Look into that, will you?

- Jed Perkins, Fallow, Tennessee

Sorry, Jed. Oprah's here to stay. Nothing we can do about her.

And there's nothing we can make her do, either.

Hey, Unbelievables:

That Unicorn Frumpaccino from Starbucks ... alien technology, amiright? All that sugar and empty calories renders partakers brain-numbed and subject to coercion. It must be stopped! Just do it!

- Sedgewick "Sedge" Jablowskivich, Capertown, Georgia

Yeah ... that ended this past Sunday, Sedge.

We didn't have anything to do with it but ... you're welcome.

Dudes of Unbelief:

The 1960s: They weren't fake. They were real. But they inspired some pretty funky goings on the verged on the magical, you have to admit. If they were to reappear, it wouldn't be "good for business" if you catch my meaning. Don't let the 60s back into today! 

- Duncan Canterbury, Fallon, Nevada

We won't Duncan ... we won't. (All of us rolled our eyes at this request.)

Alternative Origins: Unicorns

Interestingly enough, we were contacted at the Unbelieva-base by a blessing of unicorns* Thursday.

Yep ... you read that right: Unicorns.

"Hello?" I answered when I saw them coming up to the false laundromat entry that fools our enemies into thinking "Hey, this isn't The Unbelievables' headquarters ..."

"Yeah ... we need a word with you guys. You busy?"

"I'm not" I told them "but the other guys aren't around. Can I help you?"

I let them in and we congregated in one of the Unbelieva-base's parlor rooms. 

"We wouldn't normally contact anyone. About anything. We're pretty secretive you understand. But this thing with Starbucks ... their new Unicorn Frappuccino ... it's pissing us off ..."

"I can't say I blame you," I confessed. "For the most part, it's getting a bad wrap. I know I wouldn't want to be associated with it ... and there it is, boom, with your name all over it."

"Check this out." One of the bigger unicorns showed me a video from his mobile phone (which perplexed me to no end):

I winced. "Ouch. And that came from a kid, no less. If you can't get the rugrats on board ... Still, I've seen a bunch of reviews about that nightmare of a concoction and none of them have been positive."

"Exactly the point," the creature said. "This kind of publicity reflects directly back to us. It could change not only the way we're perceived but also our legendary status! We're not frothy! We don't have sprinkles! We hate frappuccinos! And we certainly don't change tastes! If this keeps up our entire origin could be tainted by those yahoos at Starbucks! They didn't get permission to use our name, nothing! We're doomed ... !!!"

"Now, guys ... look," I began explaining. "This is a passing fad from those jokesters. They're only out to make a quick buck. By next month no one will even remember you're name was attached to this so-called beverage. You know it's only a five day promotion, right? That's a blink of an eye time frame. And there aren't a lot of people on board with it, anyway. That kid in the video? Probably the best promotion you can get, despite the fact it's negative. Why? Because your place in fantasy and dreams is secure. You've been around a lot longer than some monkey business promotional drink ... and with an impeccable record I might add. You're the stuff of wonder. You're regal and magical and coveted in literature. That calorie-laden sugar bomb of a drink isn't going to taint your name or history in the least. It's a joke - you are NOT. Nothing to worry about. Trust me."

"We're not so sure. It's just ... with all these "alternative facts" we've been hearing about of late we thought our good name might get people thinking this could be an alternative origin no one knew about us. We have an image to maintain, after all ... and this drink, it's a nightmare."

"Listen to me: You. Have. Nothing. To. Worry. About. These things balance out. You'll see ..."

"How? How can you be certain they'll balance out?"

"Well ... if what I've told you up to this point hasn't convinced you, here. Check this out. I think you'll be please with the yin and yang of it":

*Yes ... a group of unicorns is known as "a blessing" ...

Pumpkin Spiced Punk'd

The more I thought about what was at stake, the angrier I became. And the more angry I become, the more I need to head to the kitchen to indulge in some home comforts, by which I mean whipping up a batch of tasty and nutritious whipped potatoes. Which I did. A lot. Remember, I was really angry, so I needed to calm down pronto, and so I ate more. Eventually, the guys pulled me out of there (no easy task) because I was in serious danger of becoming as big as a houseboat.

See, I remember my very first Pumpkin Spice Latte. I was standing in line at the counter of Mitchell's Store in Lake Stevens, WA, waiting to pay for some decorative oven gloves and a book of stamps. when an employee of the in-house coffee bar (remember, I was in Washington State, not a million miles away from Seattle, the birthplace of Starbucks) wielding a tray of small cups of steaming liquid, and proffered it in my direction. 

Something like this.

"Why, thank'ee, sirrah," I offered. "prithee what hast thou there?"

"Excuse me?" he replied.

"I mean to say, what's this then?" I replied.

"Some new flavours we're testing out, sir. Go ahead, try one."

Now you know me and free stuff. One of my personal mantras is "If it's free, it's for me!" I was on it like a car bonnet.

The first was delicious. "That one's Eggnog Latte, sir," he declared. "Try the other one."

I reached for the other, tasted of it and was instantly transported to a world where flavour knew no bounds.

Yes sirree, I sure do love me that Pumpkin Spice flavour. If I'm honest, the one thing that can get me out of a funk better than whipped potatoes is a Pumpkin Spice Latte, double tall, extra shot.

So naturally, my inclination was to go straight downtown to the Starbucks and sink a few PSLs. But as was already mentioned, they'd been cleaned out. 

I stumbled through the dusty streets of Stiletto Flats like a lost soul. I wandered for what seemed like hours, like a ghost ship in the Arctic Circle, aimless, almost lifeless, a vacant wanting stare on my visage. I went over the events of the past week in my mind, rambling like a loon. "No more pumpkin spice... no more pumpkin spice... gone... all gone... bye bye... no more pump--"

I abruptly stopped as something caught my eye. Down a small alley, I could see a new coffee shop had opened and the A-board outside declared, "Best Pumpkin Spice Lattes in Town!"

I sniffed the air and could smell the heavenly scent wafting on the light autumnal breeze. As if to add to the  whole vignette, a few red and orange leaves skittered along the ground in front of me.

I headed straight to the coffee shop, calling the guys for backup as I did so.

Almost immediately the 'Vette pulled up and Michael and Clark hopped out. They'd been worried about me since my whipped potato binge and had been tailing me at a safe distance.

We Michael and I entered the cafe while Clark located the back entrance. The cat behind the counter seemed oddly familiar.

"Alright, Diabolical Pumpkin Spice! We're onto your little game!" I cried (literally), while Michael aimed his Lobster Rage Fists at him.

Clark entered through the kitchen door and declared "This guy's been stockpiling Torani syrups!"

144 cases, to be precise. That would be gross larceny.

After all the hubbub had died down and Pumpkin Spice revealed to be none other than local ne'er-do-well Norbert McVehicular, we figured out what had occurred.

Norbert had become obsessed with running a successful coffee shop but was thwarted by the masses who go to Starbucks all the time. He had intercepted and stolen their entire supply of Pumpkin Spice syrup and had only involved us when he had had a moment of self-doubt and called us as a thinly veiled cry for help.

So all's well that ends well. Starbucks are back making their PSLs, Norbert is under house arrest and attending regular therapy, and The Unbelievables (and the known world) are blessed by the return of all things Pumpkinny and Spicy.

Some say it was all masterminded by me. I'm saying nothing, except to mention that FALL IS HERE, FOLKS! PUMPKINS! EGGNOG! TURKEYS! SCARECROWS! CORNSTALKS! CORNUCOPIAS! etc.

Boy, do I love Fall. Mmm, pumpkin spiced pecans!

P.S. What devilry is this?

"The Unbelievables Still Might Be Dying Still"

Riiing!
CLARK: Hello?
BLOCKED NUMBER CALLER: Hey, if you guys are going to Starbucks, would you mind picking up a Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato for me, please?

CLARK: Okay, A) How do you know we're going to Starbucks and B) How am I supposed to remember all that and C) How do you plan on paying me back and D) Aren't jokes about ridiculous Starbucks drink concoctions kinda 1996-ish?
BLOCKED NUMBER CALLER: A) I'm calling from inside the house and frankly, it's disappointing that you guys didn't figure that out and B) That's a fairly common Starbucks order and C) I kind of think that tipping you off about someone coming to murder you is worth at least something nice from Starbucks and D) Shouldn't you be more curious about my identity than my sense of humor?
MICHAEL (puts call on speakerphone): Listen you, what kind of sick game are you playing?
BLOCKED NUMBER CALLER: Tsk tsk, wasting time asking questions when you should be preparing for the arrival of The Ominous Tall Man Dressed All In Black. Tsk, tsk.
JEFF: Who says "tsk, tsk" more than once? This guy's whole routine is kind of corny, isn't it?
BLOCKED NUMBER CALLER: Listen, you guys are screwing around and should be taking this whole situation much, much more seri...erk!...Oh great. That's just great.
CLARK: What happened?
BLOCKED NUMBER CALLER: I've been stabbed! I'm dying!! This changes, well, everything. Specifically, my chances of becoming a recurring character with my own Label.

MICHAEL: Who did it?!?
BLOCKED NUMBER CALLER: Oh, come on! "Who did it?" It was obviously The Ominous Tall Man Dressed All In Black!! Now, somebody please help...
JEFF: You guys, an Obviously Tall Black Man In A Dress is here and killing people who break in and use our phones!
BLOCKED NUMBER CALLER: That's not what I said! That isn't even clo... Oh god, this really hurts!
CLARK (hangs up phone) *click* That's enough from him. Looks like we'd better postpone that trip to Starbucks, fellas.
MICHAEL: Oh, damn it! I'm seriously craving a Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato right now. All right, let's spread out and find this guy.
JEFF: The Blocked Number Caller or the other one?
CLARK: We should probably start with The Obscene Talented Man Dressed Like Robert Blake, since he seems to be more of a credible threat at this point. The other guy isn't even going to be a recurring character with his own label.
JEFF: Okay, that's what I figured. Just checking.
MICHAEL: Let's go!

And with that, we went!