Hot Roddin'

The Unbelievabase, sometime yesterday morning. Breakfast is on the table.

MICHAEL: So, any word on Rod and The Conductor?

CLARK: Nada. Zip. Smoke. Nuttin'. Not a peep. Nary a flicker on the radar scope. Not heard a word. No--

JEFF: We get it! I have, however, done some research--

C: Wikipedia, Ask Jeeves, Bing...

J: THANK you, yes, Wikipedia etc., (ahem) and I can safely say that with the combined age of The Conductor, Ryūzō and The Seven Henchmen being approximately 636, depending on whose birth certificates are accurate, Rodders should have comparatively little difficulty escaping their clutches.

M: So... we don't need to worry?

J: No.

C: And the ransom? 

J: Paid.

CLARK,MICHAEL: How?

J: I know it sounds almost impossible to believe, but we have Kip The Mail Boy to thank.

C: Oh come ON! That little snot-nose?! What the--

J: Believe it or not, but all this time working as our mail boy has had a positive effect on Kip. He has learned how to hack computers. 

M: You're putting me on.

C: On what planet exactly?!

J: On this one, mi amigos. I sorta... suggested to Kip that perhaps he could hack into the finances of a very rich, very stupid person and use their money to procure the ransom. After all, being very rich, a transaction like that would be a drop in the bucket. And being very stupid, they wouldn't think to look. 

M,C: Come on though! Rich and stupid, sure, but still a person...

J: Not a good person. Not a nice person. A rich, dumb asshole who deserves to be stolen from. 

M: Oh, an asshole. That makes it alright then.

DOOR KNOCKS.

J: I believe I'll get that.

Jeff opens door to reveal Rod Stewart, alive and well.

ROD: Alright lads?

M, C: Hi Rod! What the heck?!

ROD: Relax, guys. Although I could have easily overpowered Ryūzō and The Seven Henchmen, not to mention The Conductor, the ransom got paid and I just walked out, but not before hiring Ryūzō and The Seven Henchmen to be my staff. They're all great cooks (Pan-Asian Fusion is the best!) and Ryūzō himself is now my chief bodyguard. I had them clean out my attic for old spare bits of railway track, gave that to The Conductor, and then made my way here.

M, C: Wow.

M: That explains that, then. 

C; Yeah, except for one thing. The name of the rich, dumb asshole Kip hacked?

J: (slyly grinning) Oh, I'm sure if you think hard enough, you can come up Trumps.

ALL: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

What DO we know about Ryūzō and his henchmen? Plenty

Jeff:  "So ... anyone know anything about these thugs The Conductor hired?"

Thugs. Goons. Henchmen. Whatever you want to call them. They're all pretty much the same. Why? Well, because those who operate in the realm of muscle-for-hire are actually certified professionals. In fact, without that board certification, it is not legal for them to operate illegally in most countries and 48 of the 50 states in America (Florida and Texas, shockingly, have no standards in this area, among many, many others).

So, what do we know about Ryūzō and his crew? Basically what we know from the Fraternal Order of Underlings, Goons, Henchmen & Thugs (F.O.U.G.H.T) Standards and Practices manual...

All certified professionals must:

• Possess the ability to blindly follow orders
• Be willing to wear the uniform as determined by the boss.
• Have the ability to carry multiple sacks of loot.
• Be big and strong, yet generally kind of 'doughy' in appearance
• Remember to attack one at a time, regardless of how many of them there are.
• Learn the phrase, "Uhhh, what now, boss?"
• Not be able to hit the broadside of anything with any kind of weapon

"Seriously, why do we even have guns?"

That's just the minimum job requirements. There is also an exam...

A boss tells you to do something that is sure to end with you being arrested, crippled and or dead. Your response?

1. Do it.
2. Incorrect.

The boss tells you to wear this as a uniform

You say:

1. "What do the initials and numbers mean?"
2. "Turtlenecks make me itch."
3. "Whatever you say, boss."

You're emptying a bank vault. How many sacks of loot do you grab?

1. One. So I have a hand free to open a door or fight if necessary.
2. Two. Because that's enough.
3. Four. Two in each hand.

You can lift

1. Another henchman, to help him scale a wall.
2. A safe.
3. The rear end of a sedan.
4. Whatever.

The last time you exercised...

1. Haw haw! What's exercise?
2. I did crunches once when a hero punched me repeatedly in my face. Well, I heard crunches.

You and six of your buddies have a hero cornered in a blind alley. You...

1. Smile and politely say, "after you" to one of your colleagues.
2. Dial 9 and 1 on your cell phone, knowing how this will end for you.
3. Say, "All right guys, just this once let's try overpowering him by all attacking at once, using the clear and obvious advantage of our numbers to... Carl, wait! Wait! Carl!! Oh damn it,"

Something goes terribly wrong. You return to the hideout and say...

1. Oy, my ribs. Such a pain I'm feeling in my torso region!
2. Uhhh, what now, boss?
3. You know, I tried to get everybody to attack at once, but did anybody listen to me? Noooo! Nobody ever listens to me. Especially Carl.

You spy a hero trying to sneak into your hideout. You pull out your gun and...

1. Fire a warning shot harmlessly into the air. Fair is fair and safety first.
2. Fire every shot in your clip at him, hitting nothing but getting the attention of nearby law enforcement officers who were just standing around doing nothing until they heard gunfire.
3. Tilt it sideways and fire, gangsta-style. But hitting nothing.
4. Just put it on the ground at your feet because you know what's coming.

So while we know nothing about these henchmen, we know everything we need to know about henchmen. 

But what of Rod Stewart and The Conductor?!? 

Jeff will tell you on Friday!

The Conductor Conducts Once More ...

The Conductor ...

... after picking himself up and dusting himself off after his recent ass kicking ...

"But anyway, we beat the living pulp out of The Conductor (note to would-be villains: spring for some hired muscle henchmen and at least make it a challenge), rescued Rod, who came back to Stileto Flats with us where he performed a free concert that still somehow raised a million dollars for charity." 

So said Clark in last Friday's post.

But that wasn't the end of it.

As it turned out, The Conductor was listening - beaten, battered and bloody such that he was. But he was coherent enough to take Clark up on his "note to would-be villains." 

We found out about this little turn of events in a note he sent us:

Jeff: "Uh ... guys? We might have a problem ..."

Michael: "Are we out of Grape Nuts again?"

Clark: "I paid the electric bill, so don't blame me!"

Jeff: "No ... it's The Conductor again. He left us a note. He hired muscle. And some pretty formidable (albeit elderly) muscle at that. He procured none other than Ryūzō and The Seven Henchmen ..."

Ryūzō and some of his henchmen

  
"... and they absconded with Rod Stewart as soon as he landed. And The Conductor wants a ransom for his return this time. Plus some vintage odds and ends for his model train collection. AND he wants his demands met in 48 hours."

Clark: Son of a ... that's the first time one of our foes has EVER taken our advice!"

Me: "Well ... it's a fine time for this to crop up. I had plans to get my Christmas shopping done this weekend. Now it looks like we need to save Rod's ass once again ..."

Clark: "... as well as the rest of him."

Jeff:  "So ... anyone know anything about these thugs The Conductor hired?"

We'd find out soon enough ...

The end of the line (this time)

We disembarked at Death Valley where we were met by this guy...

THIS GUY: "Greetings, Unbelievables. I am... The Conductor!"
MICHAEL: "Yeah... And?"
JEFF: "What do you want? It's hot out here."
THIS GUY THAT WE NOW KNOW AS THE CONDUCTOR: "Oh. Well, yes. I have brought you all here..."
ME: "Come on already, what's your deal? You're a conductor. So, what, you lead orchestras or something?"
THE CONDUCTOR: "What? No! Trains! I'm a train conductor. You came here by train. There's a whole theme here!"
MICHAEL: "Ugh. We hate trains."
JEFF: "Yeah. Hate 'em."
CLARK: "I'm kinda ambivalent towards trains, for the most part. I hate this one though, because it brought us out here to you, and I definitely hate you. Already."
THE CONDUCTOR: "I'm going to ignore all of that and just tell you that I have kidnapped the world's greatest entertainer, Rod Stewart! That, and I am going to harm him. And there's nothing the vaunted Unbelievables can do about it! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!"

MICHAEL, JEFF, ME: "..."
THE CONDUCTOR: "Well?"
MICHAEL: "Okay, I am completely lost."
JEFF: "Me too. What exactly is your point here?"
ME: "Yeah. What does Rod Stewart have to do with trains?"
THE CONDUCTOR: "Are you kidding me? Rod Stewart loves trains. He loves them! The irony here is palpable!"
MICHAEL: "He has one song about a train. Big deal."
JEFF: "Well, to be fair, he also covered 'People Get Ready', which is pretty thick with train metaphors."
ME: "That doesn't qualify any of this as ironic, though."
THE CONDUCTOR: "You guys are nuts! I'm not even talking about his music. Rod Stewart is a renowned model railroader!"

Huh. Who knew?

That was an interesting reveal. It's always fun to learn about the hobbies of celebrities. But anyway, we beat the living pulp out of The Conductor (note to would-be villains: spring for some hired muscle henchmen and at least make it a challenge), rescued Rod, who came back to Stileto Flats with us where he performed a free concert that still somehow raised a million dollars for charity.

What can we say? The cat is good!

He was so appreciative and gracious that we arranged for his travel home; via the Unbelieva-Jet, NOT by train.

"Ready for boarding when you are, Mr. Stewart."

That (Death) Train, Rolling Down The Tracks ...

Jeff hit the nail on the head: "Oh, how we hate trains."

Current challenges in taking them today present more of a struggle than a pleasure. Just as the nature of flying has changed over the last few decade (excessive luggage charges, food effacement, more) iron horse travel isn't what it used to be.

We've resigned ourselves, however, to put our discomfiture aside and do what we need to do to get to this "top secret meeting" via locomotive transport under our belts. Besides, it's a free trip on our part and filled with incentive.

What? Jeff didn't mention that fact?

Yes, our jaunt comes filled with bonus extras tailored to entice us into the venture in an effort to make our journey a bit more agreeable all around.

Booze, broads and victuals are all "on the menu" so to speak. And while sophisticated cocktails during happy hour, stimulating intellectual companionship courtesy of the fairer sex and exquisite subsistence may be the order of the trek, we're still "on the job" and alert to the possibility the entire affair may be one big trap.

But we don't think so. There are too many overt amenities someone has gone out of the way to provide for it to be your household, garden-variety bait and switch ...

Lavish accommodations (of which we admit are eye-wideningly surprising on a train) ...

Fresh towels and linens ...

Bidets ...

Comely personal assistants ...

Even mints on our pillows when we retire.
 

What could possibly go wrong?

Well ... how about the fact we noticed two-thirds into the trip the train was headed for Death Valley, California?

It might be a long trip after all ...

Highly Trained Professionals

Oh, how we hate trains.

Don't get me wrong, we used to love trains, back when train travel used to look like this...

Sumptuous food, panoramic vistas, and crew cuts...

A lounge car that was akin to a gentlemen's club (no, not that kind of gentlemen's club, get your mind out of the gutter please)

and women who would pine for us after we got off the train.

We have been called to a top-secret meeting in a far-flung yet totally tip top secret location. Because of the current situation in the world re: flying, we thought it best that we travelled to our totally tippety toppety secret meeting in an equally undisclosable location by the old chemin de fer, the choo-choo, the locomotive.

The only problem is, we don't usually travel by train because the last few times we did, it was more like this...

On a ski trip to Alaska we were unlucky enough to find ourselves sharing a compartment with Red McSkeeterson and his Hootenanny Seven. Eesh. That was a long journey.

On a quest to find the world's finest Lamb Dhansak we got trapped on a board a Pakistani "cricket special".

and on a trip to the Orient to battle the Triads, the Korean Mafia and a plague of Iron Chefs, we had to rough it with a bunch of people who were feeling the effects of the slightly dodgy Imperial Shrimp.

So as you can understand, we are not looking forward to boarding that train tomorrow.

And what, I hear you cry, is the purpose of our top secret meeting in an undisclosed locale?

Truth be told, we don't even know ourselves. But the guys will tell you what they can on Wednesday and Friday. I cannot wait -the suspense is killing me!

Where's Michael THIS time??

Michael didn't check in with his chapter in this week's saga, but we aren't that concerned. We're pretty sure he tinkered with the stealth cloaking feature of his Unbelievasuit, dialing it up to 11, and may very well be right here; we simply can't detect his presence at all.
Here are some of the last times we saw him (using our Unbelievaspecs, we can see things that you folks might think are truly invisible)...

Sitting on his favorite "thinking about things" bench

Enjoying sand and surf

This one is at a distance but there he is, halfway up the summit. Hello-o-o-o-o!

That's simply a testament to how good the technology is and why one shouldn't mess with it. Our hope is Michael sees this, realizes there's a problem and un-tinkers his way back into visual existence.