Party crasher (part II)

Henri Petit: "Well well well, The Unbelievables are having a party. Partying, are we? Are we here to par-tay? Heh heh heh."
Michael: "Get out of here, Petit."
HP: "Relax. I'm not here to cause trouble. On the contrary, in fact. I'm here to celebrate."
Jeff: "You're picking the wrong place to stir up trouble, chum."
HP: "No, I mean it. I even brought potato salad. Just like my mother used to..."
Clark: "We hate you, you hideous, vile infant!"
HP: "FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME, I AM NOT A... Look, we've had our differences over the years..."
M: "You reek of curdled baby formula, stale tobacco smoke and enmity."
HP: "As I was saying, while we may have had our differences over the years..."
J: "And failure. I definitely smell failure on you, Henri. Like you've been wallowing around in a big puddle of it for years and years and years and years."
HP: "...at the end of the day, you've won some, I've won some and there's a hard-earned mutual respect between us."
C: "You are a disgusting, misshapen lump of goo with eyes. Nobody loves you beyond the sense of satisfaction that comes from inflicting physical harm on you."
HP: "Are-are you... peeing in my potato salad? What is wrong with you?"

Party Crasher

We debated ... but only for a moment.

And it really wasn't that much of a debate. As a matter of fact it was more the posing of a quick question.

"You know ... Monday is our 300th post on the website.  Should we throw some sort of shindig to celebrate?"

Collectively and with gusto, we all blurted out "DUH!" and got down to business.

The result? The entire community of Stilleto Flats joined us over the weekend to celebrate.

We decided to rent the the Flats' local park for the event so as to accommodate everyone who wanted to come. There's nothing quite like tossing a fest at your home base, right?

And there was indeed the gathering. Tents and balloons and music and food and frolickry were the order of the day. Jeff made a big deal of it by whipping up his world famous Cocktail Weenie Casserole. Clark made certain his Corvette was washed and polished and behind velvet rope so everyone could gander at it and take pictures as they saw fit (No touching allowed though.) And me? Well ... I donned trousers for the occasion. You know ... as a change of pace.

There was laughter in the air, the Unbelieva-Babes made certain everyone had a refreshing beverage at hand, the dance floor was crowded, back slaps were given liberally, smiles shown everywhere and the good times were flowed in abundance.

And then?

In tow with several of his goons, that little rat bastard Henri Petit crashed the party with a big bowl of potato salad*.

And that's when all hell broke loose ... 

*In reality, the bowl wasn't that big. It was simply Petit's diminutive size that gave it that appearance.

Back In The Day with Jeff - Or, Jeff's Evolution of (Crime-Fighting) Style

Being the only Unbelievable born and raised in a different country (the great UK), my early experiences were somewhat different to that of my fellow crime-fighters. But, even at an early age, I had an innate sense that I was somewhat special. It may have been that the toys were different ("Action Man" instead of "GI Joe"), the shoes were different (Clarks instead of Keds), the clothes, the atmosphere... whatever you want to call it, it was clear I had a gift. A calling, if you will. One that I was to share with fellow camp-mate when we were 14-year-olds at Camp Action!, and later to share with Clark as we were fledgling Unbelievables. Even later, to share with the world (and especially the ladies) as we championed the cause of justice and freedom throughout the cosmiverse.

Michael and Clark have already shown you some early snaps of themselves and kinfolk at this tender and impressionable stage of their lives. Now it falls to me to continue the trend and fish out some photos of the young Jeff. Here goes... it could get messy.

Back in the day it was considered OK to put your son in something resembling a dress, sit them on top of the sideboard and see what happens. Clearly I was unfazed by it all and just smiled as if to say, "Ha! I laugh in the face of potential falls and other safety hazards!"

My first major coup - winning the local Bonny Baby contest. Those other guys never stood a chance.

Not only was I extremely fashionable from a young age, my family were too. Here I am pictured with Mum aka The Mole, Sis aka Lefty, Nan aka The Fixer, and family matriarch Gran, otherwise known as "G".

Lefty and I on one of our early undercover assignments as wedding guests in the case of  "Bride and Groom Kaboom".

On the same assignment, "G" passing on some information about some dodgy-looking potato salad.

Lefty and I hosted a masterclass called How To Tell A Real Cake From A Bomb Cake.

As the years passed, it became obvious that I was a stylish gent in the making.

Me with Big L and The Cook (aka Nan and Grandad). I learned a lot about style from these two.

If there is one thing the ladies love, it's a skinny teen in a fishnet t-shirt.

My prized antique linen weskit helps me to blend in with the background seamlessly.

One of the things we Unbelievables are noted for is our mastery of disguise. We all bring different aspects of this skill to the table which enables us to help each other out when selecting the perfect get-up. For my part I am able to use skills that were taught to me by my Grandfather, Big L. Not only was he able to impart knowledge of crimefighting skills...

Here we are selecting the perfect desk accessory to be turned into a weapon in our arsenal of gadgets. The lady in the background was trying to listen in, but before she could blab anything to anyone she developed a severe headache and had to have a couple of ibuprofen and a lie down, after which she forgot all about it.

...he was a true chameleon and claimed to have studied the techniques of actor Lon Chaney in perfecting his craft. For example:

This recently declassified photo shows Big L  in deep cover as Musky LaPointe,  French-Apache fur trader and mountain man.

Here are a few pictures of myself in deep cover...

As Kenny Bonsoir, chubby Rik Mayall and unicorn impersonator, on  The Case Of The Disappearing Chicken Tikka Masala.

In the pillory disguised as a tourist.

With Lefty, disguised as Marco Pontoon, real-estate magnate and fishing buff. This case was called Shape Up Or Ship Out.

You can see here where Big L's influence was rubbing off  on me. This character is called  Keen-Eyes McTraction, sharpshooter extraordinaire. I was undercover at a Wild West theme park, where someone had been stealin' all the popcorn for nefarious purposes.

Rockin' and rollin' as Skins Wolstenholme, ace drummer for Bullfrog and The Toads.  The case was called  Over And (Far) Out.

Blending in seamlessly again with some nice Slovakian ladies (Hello, ladies!)

Again, as an overweight chubby guy in a shop trying on terribly overpriced hats.  The case? Fur Too Expensive.

Glasses can simply change one's appearance beyond recognition, can't they? Yes, believe it or not, this is me.

Here I am as Oberon in our Unbelievable production of The Tempest.

Not in disguise, but learning all about the art of the bow tie with The Mole.

With each passing year I have learned more and more about the things it takes to be an Unbelievable. We, all three of us, have a motto: A day without learning is a day wasted. I can certainly vouch for that: every day brings a new skill or new style tip, each equally valuable. And that, folks, is why I shall remain...

A truly stylish gent.