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? 

Even More Thumping Good Reads ...

Jeff is correct: With all the cases we take on and all the due diligence needing our attention, our free times for casual, relaxed reading come few and far between.

Oh, sure ... we have Playboy and SI and GQ and nude volleyball periodicals at our disposal in "the library." (Hokay ... truth be told I peruse the nude volleyball mag more than Clark and Jeff.) But there's so much more. And our literature proclivities are just as wide and varied as each of us.

For example ... some of my favorite reading pleasures ...

Personally, I enjoy keeping up with what our "neighborhood nemesis" is into. I caught one prankster brushing up on Bobby Fuller's story, to see if he could glean any tips on how to exponentially "up" his bad guy game.
 
The joke was on him, however - the tome was nothing more than a biography of Mr. Fuller and his group The Bobby Fuller Four ...

Hey ... we're men. And men like sports. All kinds of sports. So it makes perfect sense we get excited when stories like "Centeres Who Get Me Guessing" and "I Crocked My Best Pal!" are on the front page of one of our favorite rags Football Weekly.

Nothing soothes like crochet, I always say. And knitting does it for me, too. At first, the guys looked a little sideways at me when I subscribed to a few craft mags but they came around when Clark saw you could take a couple balls of yarn and a pair of needles and fabricate a nifty robot. And Jeff was thrilled at the "Weave Your Own Food!" sections.

Cryptozoology isn't just for the wisenhiemers with big heads, you know. With spiffy pop-up 3D pages, anyone can get into mythological beings like the Abominable Snowman and the Loch Ness Monster. 

(Or ... are they really mythological ... ???!?)

Again, we keep up with our foes and their habitual inclination and tendencies. (It's fun when we get to turn the tables and use some of the bizarre stuff we know they're studying up on on them ...)

Yup. More knitting rags. (You don't think I pull ideas for my crocheted shorts out of thin air ... do you?

I don't care what anyone says: Dodgem Logic is the bee's knees when it comes to innovative escape plans, extrication maneuvers when you're in a tight spot and other ideas to get out of a pickle.

Of course, all three of us appreciate the finer details of weaponry and the latest refinements and cutting edge technology ...

But there are also those times when you don't care for any mental heavy lifting, if you know what I mean. That's when some of the fluff is a welcome balm, ripe for inducing relaxation. One of my favorites? Strange Recompense ...

And ... hey! Did you know there's more to your dreams than you give credit?

You would think, with all the dangerous situations we encounter and no good thugs we bust that something like this wouldn't be conducive to reading R&R ...

... but it is! Good stuff in that rag!

So ... what do The Unbelieva-Babes and Kip The Mail Boy indulge in? You'll find out Friday ...

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 ... 

Of course there's no such thing as an "Unbelievables Starter Kit", but if there was...

A starter kit?
To become an Unbelievable?
Ha.
Ha ha ha ha ha.
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!
BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!

What a gradually ascending 'Ha-ha-ha'-inducing concept. To believe there could ever exist such a thing as an "Unbelievables Starter Kit" is to believe it's possible to just start being Unbelievable. In other words, such a thing could never, ever exist in any form whatsoever.

But if it could exist, it would probably have the following items AT LEAST.

A VOLLEYBALL

Michael enjoys competing in a number of "clothing discouraged optional" sports leagues, but his first love and primary pursuit is the sport of volleyball. WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH BECOMING A CRIMEFIGHTER? Well, you learn agility, teamwork, and in the leagues Michael plays in, protecting one's dangly bits from speeding projectiles.

WHIPPED POTATOES

There are few things Jeff loves more than good whipped potatoes. What qualifies as good whipped potatoes? Basically, any potatoes prepared and served in a whipped fashion would qualify. WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH BECOMING A CRIMEFIGHTER? An appreciation of good cuisine is essential. Say you're attending a formal, catered affair where your nemesis is trying to woo vital military secrets from a baroness. There's no better way to draw the attention of everyone in the room than bypassing the flaming shrimp appetizers everyone else is enjoying and ordering, "Potatoes. Whipped, not baked." Jeff has done this more than once and it never fails to jar his adversary's confidence.

A CAR 

Specifically, this car, the Unbelievabamobile. With this girl. WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH BECOMING A CRIMEFIGHTER? Seriously? If you have to ask that question, there's honestly no point in you pursuing this line of work.

That's just three elements that would have to be included in any kind of "Unbelievables Starter Kit" and I have no idea how you would even package them together. 

You Can't Put On A Cravat And Instantly Become A Crime Fighter, You Know ...

Dear Unbelievables:

My son's birthday is coming up next month and I thought it would be neat to pick up The Unbelievables' Starter Kit that's been rumored to its debut shortly.

That's not just a rumor ... is it? Send me the information pronto! I want you to take my money!

Thanks! Randolph

Dear Randolph:

I don't know who started that rumor. Clark and Jeff don't know either.

But I wouldn't put it past one (or several) of our arch enemies promoting such a falsehood to fund their arsenals and ideas in any attempt to orchestrate the downfall of The Unbelievables.

You have to understand it's an expensive effort to try and come up with ways for our foes to push our demise. It takes big bucks, we're sure, to work out any ill machinations they might wish against us. To wit, they'll do almost anything to bring in cash to fund their evil, twisted ideas, including putting propaganda out falsely advertising John Q. Public can become an Unbelievable.

Bottom line: There's no such thing.

Unbelievability isn't just for anyone walking down the street. It takes training, perseverance, dedication, a quick wit, a hefty wardrobe and more.

Yes, there are a few token honorary figures who can add "Unbelievable" to their business cards but they're few and far between. (Elvis, Steve McQueen are a couple heady examples.)

The Unbelievables are not about "taking your money." Sorry. 

Even if there was an Unbelievable Starter Kit, it wouldn't be for kids. That would be dangerous and irresponsible.

We hear those XBox things are pretty happening, if you want a suggestion.

Sincerely, The Unbelievables

A Need ...

Just one of the many reasons The Unbelievables were conceived ...

... and not a moment too soon ...

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.

Charlie's Angels: That Fleeting Season

In order to pay the bills, you have to do what you have to do oft times.

Even if times find us employed as bodyguards.

But in the case of the original Charlie's Angels, it was a win-win-win for us.

Yes ... they looked good even in black & white

Ladies, times three. ("Hello, Ladies!") Crime fighting. (Albeit that of the television variety ... no matter.) Paycheck. Bingos all around.

Now ... on several different fronts, I'm not at liberty to disclose any of our body guarding duties where the lovely Farrah Fawcett-Majors (my favorite), Jaclyn Smith (Clark's favorite) and Kate Jackson (it was a terse relationship between she and Jeff ... too bad the details will forever remain secretive) are concerned. But I can tell you this: Jeff had the odd habit of "buddying up" to David Doyle on and off the set in David's spare time. 

Jeff's favorite on Charlie's Angels: David Doyle

And when I say "buddy up" I'm not talking any monkey business; in all actuality, Jeff picked up a few handy, dandy crime busting tips from Dave, not the least of which was an incarnation of the famous Lobster Rage Fist documented in these pages previously.

Yeah ... good times for old "Jiggle TV" as they called it when the Angels came on the scene during the mid-70s. But our stint would only last Charlie's Angels premiere season - coincidentally, so would Farrah Fawcett-Majors. Popular as the show was, Fawcett-Majors left, replaced by Cheryl Ladd. (More replacements on the show would take place in successive seasons.) The reason for our short run as protectors of The Angels? Money, of course. The producers felt our fees a bit exorbitant. Or so they said. I mean ... the show was making a boatload of money for ABC television. It wasn't as if they couldn't afford our services. And we were assured "casual Fridays" on the set weren't a problem. (We were so popular with the cast and crew, we were encouraged to participate.) No ... it was someone, somewhere in the upper echelons of the show who didn't sit well with our being there, so it was out the door we went.

But ... it was a "made-in-heaven" assignment for a season and - much as we might like to chortle about body guard duty being rather gutless - we did stand a little straighter when we were around The Angels ...