A Little Bit Of Mole Envy

Clark and I had a little chat post 'Stanford Student' interview at the Mole Fair ...

"I'm not so sure about this 'Stanford Student' ..." I noted after the applicant left.

Clark was shuffling paperwork, the applicant's resume and other necessaries for tax information and putting it in a file for later use. "Why not? He seems capable enough."

"I just don't see where he'll be of any use. He'll be languishing on the payroll, sitting around waiting for our call ..."

"So? It's not like he'll be hanging out at The Unbelieva-Base. You know moles aren't allowed there. Why the concern?"

"Well ... it's just that ..."

"What?"

"Well, his 'claimed abilities.' I mean ... I'm irreverent. I've got a playful-yet-sarcastically-biting lack of respect for authority. I'm even kinda funny under the right circumstances. Under a ton of circumstances ... and you know that."

"Funny looking, maybe ..."

"What? Hardly?.Who's got the combined good looks of Ian McShane and a young Cliff Robertson, huh? This guy ... that's who." I thumbed my thumb my way, boastfully.

My uncanny resemblance to Cliff Robertson and Ian McShane is ... well, uncanny.

Clark looked at me sternly. "Oh. My. Gosh. You're jealous, aren't you? You're jealous of a newly hired mole we're not even certain we're going to use in the field! Come on! What ... you think we'd ever pit you or compare your credentials and character against any of the hired help? Hell no! No way! We're a team, the three of us! You, Jeff and me. That's never going to change! Truth be told, I just liked the ungapotchkin the dude's got. You've got to give it up to a guy who looks like a crooked Christmas tree with marshmallow eyes and Botox-infused lips who calls himself 'Stanford Student.' Am I right?" 

Clark bowed his head and looked me straight in the eye.

"Am I right ... ???"

"I guess ..." I conceded.

"Good. And look: How many villains do you really think are going to pop up with roots at Cal or Iowa where we can employ the guy? Besides, the contract he signed has him working on commission anyway, so our financial obligation is practically nil. That should cheer you up ..."

Clark had a point there.

"Now, I don't want to hear any more whining about him. Got it?"

"Ooooooooooooooookay ..." I conceded.

"Good. We're done here anyway. Let's vamoose. Hey ... you know what will cheer you up? A good old fashioned game of nude volleyball, just you and me and eight Unbelieva-Babes. We'll be captains! Whaddaya say ... ?!?"

Clark sure knows how to turn a frown upside down, you know?

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 ...

Unbelievably Cranky

So just what is it that will get the Unbelievables out of a funk? Aside from the love and adoration that come from being rock and roll stars, let's say.
Well, for every Unbelievable mood, there is an equal and opposite mood-changer. (That's Noble's First Law of Cantankerousness right there.) For each individual Unbelievable there is something that is guaranteed to enhance his outlook on life.

For Michael (whose law it is anyway), anything that presents him with the opportunity to go pantsless tends to do the trick, whether it be nude volleyball (he was All-American his sophomore year by the way), nude cookery (little tip here: no naked BBQing) or simply naked trampolining, the act of dropping trou will immediately lift his spirits.

However, only Michael will put on open-air public demonstrations of his nakey skills.

And Clark? He can be won over by the well-timed presentation of a nice piece of cake, pie or even cake-pie (pake, for the uninitiated), with a steaming mug of hot fresh coffee, preferably while behind the wheel of his precious 'Vette and in the lovely company of one or two Unbelievababes. We do realise that this sounds like rather a dangerous proposition (road safety and all that), however we should point out that generally speaking he just goes to sulk in the 'Vette in the garage and is usually not on the highway when he is in a sour mood. Something to do with biorhythms, he has been known to claim. Not good to drive while upset. On the whole, Michael and myself can get behind this idea (we wouldn't want Clark to make a cardinal driving error due to his crankiness, and damage the motor, would we?), but if we're being frank, we privately believe it's because he doesn't want the car to get dirty.

This is not cake-pie. It's pie-cake. Totally different thing. Still delicious though.

Now THIS is cake-pie.

And what of myself? What do I do when I find myself overtaken by the gods of grump? How do I get myself out of the mire of curmudge?

Some might guess that I would head to the kitchen and scare up some whipped potatoes in double quick time, but no;

I have found to my dismay that while the consumption of such a culinary delight may alleviate a foul mood, trying to cook while cranky can have hazardous and potentially disastrous consequences. Believe me, I have the scars to prove it.


Nope, for me I have found that the ideal thing to do at a time like that is to sit in a comfortable high backed armchair by the fireside, put on some mellow music or an episode of Diagnosis Murder (that Dick Van Dyke just breaks me up!), 

"I'm not a doctor-turned-detective, I just play one on TV."

and sip on a glass of Old Curmudgeon Ale. Pretty soon I am back to my old self and ready to join my compadres for more action and world-saving.

You're welcome, world.

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. 

(Not So) Unbelievable

 

We're guys.
(Yes ... suave, tailored, fashionable, trendy guys ... but still, deep down, we're guys ...) 

And being guys entails a lot. Lots. Tons. 

There's a whole bevy of things we think and do and get in trouble for that "reasonable" people (i.e. women) wouldn't even begin to consider. *snort*

But, as stated: We're guys.

We're bred to mess with things. Annoy. Tinker. Challenge. Boast. Mess with. Do better.

That being said, if there's anyone out there who thinks three guys in a base of operations get along 24/7, then they've never been with a group of guys for any length of time. Put us in a group and there's going to be conflict of one sort or another. It's inherent.

So no ..., Jeff, Clark and I don't always get along.

And that's okay. Really ... it is. Our different likes and dislikes are what fosters our competitive natures. Our differences highlight our various strengths. They're what cause us to virtually slap each other on the back in congratulation when something goes exceedingly well. That and an unexpected wedgie every once in a while is what camaraderie is all about.

But, oh ... the times we're at each other's throats (metaphorically speaking, of course) ...

Those times? Not necessarily our finest moments:

"All right ... who ate the last of my cherries!?? Especially when you guys don't even like cherries ... ?!??"

Is there any doubt this is Jeff's favorite scene

in Close Encounters Of The Third Kind?

Jeff: "Is it Tuesday? I'm dying for some whipped potatoes. I can't even remember the last time we had whipped potatoes ..."

Clark and I in unison: "Yesterday! Which was Tuesday!"

"Michael! The Unbelieva-Babes are not a ladder!"

Jeff: "Who unplugged the steam to my computer? Do you have any idea how long it takes for me to get this thing fired up ... ?!?"

Yet another of Clark's hundreds of home made robots ...

Clark: "Hey, guys! Wanna see the new robot I made last night?!?"

Jeff and I in unison: "NO ... !!!"

Clark: "Michael ... that's the fifth time you've played 'Hot Rod Lincoln' this morning. Can you please find something else to listen to ... ?!?"

Jeff: "Michael? We appreciate you cooking dinner, but ... Clark and I would appreciate it more if you'd put some pants on when you do so ... all right?"

"Clark! I stepped on your pet Stegosaurus last night when I got up to go to the bathroom. How many times have I told you to put away your dinosaur collection when you're done with it ... ?!?"


Clark: "Michael? Do us a favor: Put some pants on when you answer the doorbell from now on ... please ..."

Jeff: "Guys! Whipped potatoes tonight ... okay?"

Clark and I in unison: "NO ... !!!"

"Michael? While Clark and I encourage your nude volleyball proclivities with enthusiasm and vigor uniquely your own, we think doing so in the main lobby is not the proper place to do so. And especially when there are customers present ..."

Clark: "I'm gonna go wash the 'Vette guys. Back in a few ..."

"Again? Didn't you wash it earlier this morning?"

Jeff: "Anyone up for a whipped potato sammich for lunch?"

Clark and I in unison: "NO ... !!!"

Believe me ... it gets worse ...