The Whole Thing Was Choc Fulla Nuts

... from Wednesday ...

"Isn't it obvious? He's planning to corner the nut market, in order to put the squeeze on the chocolate biz. And he's probably going to destroy huge nut crops in order to do so!"

Of course this made sense right off the bat. All the obvious, tell-tale signs were there: Devious ne'er-do-well leanings, delusions of grandeur, a power play aimed at disrupting the normal course of events. Yep ... it sure sounded like the M.O. of Henri Petit.

But I confessed: "I was just winging it, guys. I don't have a bead on who it is behind this plot. We just haven't had any rows with the little twit of late and I was ... you know, wishful thinking it was Petit, y'unnerstan' ..."

Regardless, we had work to do. And we couldn't let down our friend Guinney nor see his successful business run out of profitability, nuts or popularity.

So, it was back to the states with us to determine if this was a real threat or someone with a desire to yank Guinney's chain.

The first order of business was to see if Petit was really behind this nefarious plot or if it was someone else. We didn't have any concrete evidence it was actually Petit - no video from Guinney's shop, nothing. Just our friend's word. But it sure sounded like something that imp Petit would involve himself with.

Doing some digging about nuts (California being one of the largest producers of almonds, pistachios and walnuts, all perfect in chocolates) and the like, I stumbled on this video:



A light when on after the first two and a half minutes. It smacked of jealousy and underhandedness to me. I postulated a theory that it wasn't Petit at all and there wasn't any pending nut crisis in the least in the future. 
Because it was obvious: Jimmy Fallon - and his abundant jealousy of Guinney Pepper's success - was the culprit here. And, to all three of us, that was just nuts.
We paid a visit to Fallon's studio the next day for "a little chat." (The details of that chat aren't important. Let's just say he saw clear to steer away from any shenanigans involving Guinney, his business and nuts in general. He even admitted he was the one who threatened Guinney at his shop posing as "the very tall man in a trench coat." And, yes, he midget on his shoulders who did all the talking who was an avid smoker.)
In the grand scheme of things, it was a pretty easy case to solve. Guinney was relieved to discover it was all a hoax when we broke the news to him.
Later, Clark asked: "Wait ... so ... we don't get to rough up Petit? You know, throw him screaming through a plate glass window from 15 stories up somewhere?"
Jeff and I consoled him with some of Guinney's superb chocolate creations we'd picked up while in Switzerland ...

Drop those nuts!

Guinney spilled some of his work on his shirt

"Tune in later this week for the next part later this week! For, like, the next part!" - Jeff, earlier today

We wailed and skanked our way back to Guinney's shop. Once there, I did my best to focus on the matter at hand - impending evil ploy perpetrated by the mini-menace Henri Petit - and not sample even more of Guinney's wares. Here's what he said:

"My nuts are in trouble!"

When asked to elaborate he said, "No self-respecting chocolatier can possibly hope to have a line of treats without offering nuts and almonds and pecans and etcetera." To which I replied, "Duh."

"Well, the other day", he continued, "a very tall man in a trench coat and wearing a hat came in here and threatened me, saying 'Enjoy your nuts while you have them, because they're not long for this world'. Then he laughed in a sinister manner and transitioned into a nasty smoker's cough."

"Tall man, eh?", Jeff queried. "That lets out Petit." "Yes, but as he turned to leave, he was very unsteady", Guinney said. "I think it was a small person on a regular-sized person's shoulders." We all looked at each other and shared the same thought: "Henri Petit would totally try to pull a stunt like that!"

"But to what end?", Guinney asked. Michael said, "Isn't it obvious? He's planning to corner the nut market, in order to put the squeeze on the chocolate biz. And he's probably going to destroy huge nut crops in order to do so!"

We've got to save those nuts.

Choc Full Of Nutty Happenings

Naturally, we stayed on in Switzerland for a few days after we'd inadvertently done Dr. Oldschool's D.I.Y. for him, wishing him the best of luck in his microbrewery venture.

It just seemed appropriate. We love Switzerland anyways. I love clocks, Michael loves pantsless snow activities and Clark, well...

Clark loves chocolate. Especially the handmade Swiss kind. Clark is as happy in Switzerland as a pig in muck. We just let him loose in downtown Geneva and said, "take your time, buddy."

But it was on Sunday when Michael and I were in the hotel that things took a turn.

Michael had heard about the Large Hadron Collider and wanted to know more about it. I was trying to explain the science of accelerated particles and it was clear I was not breaking through. Michael's a great guy, very smart, you understand, but sometimes it's like he's wearing glasses made from pure snot while trying to critique an oil painting. It wasn't until he'd made some sexual reference, giggling like a schoolboy, that I realized why I wasn't making any headway.

"No, no," I said. "Large Hadron. HADRON, H-A-D-R-O-N, not H-A-R--"

Suddenly the door burst open and in waddled a clearly chocolate-engorged Clark, near enough bouncing off the walls.

"Guys, guys! You will never believe it!"

"What, that you have eaten your own weight in chocolate?" I said cynically.

"Like you didn't buy fifteen cuckoo clocks?" retorted Michael.

"OK, OK, so I like them," I replied, and then, returning to Clark, I I asked what was up.

"You will never believe who's opened a chocolate shop here! You'll never guess. When I tell you, you're gonna flip your flippin' lid!"

We stared at Clark for what seemed like an age.

"Guinney Pepper!"

"--"

"Yes, the Guinney Pepper! You know, of Lick The Chalice fame!"

The penny dropped.

We're all big fans of reggae superstar Guinney Pepper. On fishing trips and long car journeys, he's practically all we listen to.




He's also one of our international network of moles and informants from the world of celebrity.

"What!? What is he doing in bloomin' Switzerland?" I asked.

"Well, not only does he love chocolate and timepieces, he's onto something big! He thinks it's something to do with - (ahem) - Petit!"

"Good gravy!" cried Michael. "I thought after last time, that little dingbat troll monkey would have hung up his pipe for good!"

"We need to get down to the shop where he's having his grand opening and see what he knows. There's no time to waste!"

We sped off, pronto.

Tune in later this week for the next part later this week! For, like, the next part!

We Get (Easter) Letters

Yes folks, it's time for another delve into the Unbelieva-mailbag for a quick peruse. The first one is from Terry Towelling from Ireland, WV (little known fact: Ireland, WV is the American home of the sport of Irish Road-Bowling - ed.)who asks:

Dear Unbelievables,

Faith and begorrah, to be sure, I know we have chocolate eggs at Easter, but do they have to be in the flamin' shops so gosh darn early in the year? It seems as soon as Christmas is over they put the eggs in the shops. Why is this and can you fellers do anything to stop it? Oh, bejeesus and begorrah, Darby O'Gill and de Little People, sorr, to be sure. (stop with the Irish stuff - Ed.)

Well, let us answer those questions one at a time.

1. They don't have to be in the shops that early, but the shops would like us to believe that it is necessary, so that they can make more money selling us stuff that's frivolous and unhealthy. I could go into a long diatribe about the fact that we all eat so much unhealthy crap these days because of the post-WW2 end of rationing, but I won't. Fun fact though - one thing that wasn't rationed during WW2 in Britain was fish and chips. 

2. Sadly, Terry, we are not at liberty to stop the perfectly legal, and it is perfectly legal to sell candy at any time of year. Once it becomes restricted, we'll talk. 

Your letter does remind me of a pet peeve of mine, though, and that has to do with the size of chocolate products in general. Back in the day, Easter Eggs were mahoosive.  Remember back in the day when the eggs that are now known as Cadbury's Creme Eggs 

were known as Rowntree Mackintosh's Cream Eggs? 

Remember back when people used to challenge each other to put a whole one in their mouth and eat it? How many trips to the local casualty department could have been avoided if they hadn't tried it?

Not even close.

 But nowadays, now that they cost a helluva lot more, they are no longer a challenge because they're so small.

I believe we should begin a campaign against the shrinking of our choccie bars. Every few months, another couple of grams is shaved off the weight of a candy bar and the price either stays the same or increases. Is it just me? C'mon, world. Join me in this noble quest. 

"Let's Make Our Marathons Great Again!"

Advice for the would-be gentleman would-be chef

It would appear that Jeff and Michael have covered every single thing in the universe that any female enjoys (if you thought that list would be much longer, you're WRONG and STUPID). However, to my relief, they did leave one item for me, and it's a big one.
WOMEN LOVE A MAN WHO CAN COOK
Listen, dancing and robots are awesome (especially if you combine those two things) but absolutely nothing, NOTHING heats a lady's oven like a dude who knows his way around a stovetop. "But I don't know how to cook", you simper like a simpering simpleton. Stop that! You're a man. You may or may not know what a whisk is, how to prepare a proper Béchamel sauce or what kind of wine goes with flamingo but those are details. The fact is as a male, you are genetically predisposed to applying fire to stuff and putting it in your mouth. Besides, this is a case where presentation is virtually everything. Get into the kitchen and start opening and closing cabinets while stirring things up in various pots and pans and just watch the eggs fire out of your lady's ovaries like rounds from a M240B machine gun. This is something that women find irresistibly adorable. If you actually produce something remotely edible, consider it a bonus. "But seriously, Clark", you continue to protest, "I know zero recipes". Okay, I can see where you might think that's a drawback. For that reason, I am listing a number of dishes that you should have the items for in your 'fridge and that you should be able to figure out just from the name. Simply get the items you think each dish requires, smoosh them up (together or individually) and apply some heat, along with your natural man instincts, and you should end up in the "close enough" territory.
Weiner Hash
Cheez Platter
Salad Dressing Sandwich Surprise
Coq au Vin Americano(chicken chunks in Kool Aid)
Deep Fried Gravy Nuggets
Choco-ghetti-o's
Egg Yellows

Remember, your presentation is key! Keep it classy and you're in!

"Yep, them's MY drawers tonight!"

Coming Clean

Usually we Unbelievables only lie when it absolutely calls for it. To us, the truth is paramount. Honesty is the best policy and all that malarkey. But there are those special times when a bit of creativity in the truth department is called for, and we have to tell a little fib, a porky pie or an outright whopper.

And last week, we lied to you, the people of Earth. We were less than honest about our activities in Zurich. We actually did the unthinkable and completely fabricated the whole thing.

So what were we actually doing? Well, fear not, good citizens. All shall be revealed in good time. Suffice it to say at this point in time we were doing something for the good of personkind.

It came to our attention that Zurich, where prostitution is legal, is fast becoming the 'in' place for stressed-out executives to conveniently 'have a meeting', which as we know is code for a quickie with a streetwalker.

Zurich, being one of those cities where they hate to see people inconvenienced, noted the amount of harassment that their town trollops were experiencing and kindly came up with this idea...

Yes! It's called a sex-box. The idea being that it's a safe environment for ladies of the night to take their 'dates' to, with a convenient alarm on the passenger side should things go awry. The prostitute can bail and hit the alarm, and before you can say "locked in your car", the rozzers are down on the offending john like a ton of the proverbials.

Truth is, this was our idea.

Yes, we did all the research and feasibility studies, fronted the money and were in Zurich last week to see them unveiled. So there you are. Of course, we were there to see all that other stuff we talked about - watches, chocolate, cheese, hot stewardesses - but this was the main purpose of our trip. You're welcome, world.

Now we are back and fully refreshed. And not a moment too soon, it seems - for we have another foul fiend to attend to - this young lady needs correcting and soon.

We are so on the case. Clark and Michael will keep you updated on our progress.

Ciao!

P.S. Oh, and Switzerland? Love that flag - it's a big plus.

Raising Hell-Vetica

Yes, that's right folks. This week we are in Switzerland, the most peace-loving country on the planet. Being peaceful guys ourselves, we love it here. So much so, we like to take weekend breaks up to Leavenworth, WA, which looks like an Alpine resort.

 There are lots of wonderful things here in la Suisse and we each have our favourites. Michael loves the Swiss' skill in making timepieces and has amassed an impressive collection of cool watches.

With this model "The Spaceman" he liked to sit there and talk into it like it was a communicator, saying "Houston, we have a problem" and "That's one small step for Michael, one giant leap for a kangaroo", etc.

With this one he kept making robot noises. "Shut up!" we cried. "Robots don't really keep telling people that they're robots!"

I seem to recall the day he got this one. He kept trying to impress us with the funny words he could make by typing in numbers and the showing them to us upside-down. He derived great mirth from typing "0.7734", "71077345" and of course, "5318008". We wouldn't have minded but we were in the Unbelieva-mobile on a stakeout at the time.

The downside to his love of timepieces is his similarly large collection of cuckoo clocks.

Repellent things. I can't stand them, personally, and Clark is a wee bit scared of them.

As to the things that Clark likes about Switzerland, he's got a soft spot about chocolate, in all its forms.

He's got all their LP's.

He's also a big fan of Swiss Cheese. In fact, any cheese.

Nope... we've already covered that kind of cheese.

Ain't no party like a fondue party, as Clark and Michael demonstrate here.

As for myself, there are two things I think of when I think Switzerland. The first is alpine pursuits.

Skiing with the gals...

and more skiing. With the gals.

The second is the lovely smiling air hostesses we met on Swissair.

Nope, she's not happy. Not with that man twisting her body into that pose. He doesn't even look like he's been to dental college.

More like it. This is what we mean.

Now sadly, Swissair is no more. It's been replaced by Swiss International Airlines. I hope their flight attendants are of a similar ilk.

Not bad.

More like it!

Now, I'm off to show my new Swiss Army knife to that showoff Clark. Beat this, buddy!