I went to Macy’s to buy a suit. They had a sale! There’s a surprise. The last time I got a suit at Macy’s there were two impeccably dressed suitmen, eager to help you with any questions. This evening the suit area was unattended. In fact the entire men’s department was empty, with one guy checking people out over in the Retired Rich Men Who Want Tropical Patterns Department. So I went there, through the piles of ties and racks of overpriced shirts (which were on sale! There’s a surprise) to ask when the suit men would be present, since I would need my purchase tailored. Nipped and tucked and shortened.

“Oh, there’s no alterations here,” he said. He apologized. “But there’s a store in the mall that will do it.”

“Macy’s doesn’t do alterations?”

“NNnnnnooo, sorry!”

“Not your fault.” And so I left.

There’s something about the alterations that felt timeless - the attentive fellow with the chalk and the tape, the quick authoritative marks, the appraising look, the careful folding of the cuff so it hits the shoe with the proper break. (I don’t even know if that’s the technical term, but it sounds as if it could be.)

Once upon a time - and I am so damned sick of once-upon-a-time stories like this - you could go downtown to a department store, buy a suit, and have it altered. You could choose from four department stores, depending on your budget. Then that went away. Well, at least there are the big proud local department stores at the mall, where the vestiges of tradition can be found. The old bald man, the chalk, the tape.

Macy’s fired those guys, because ha ha screw you.

The banner illo above is an empty storefront in Southdale. The original mall. There are many like that.

Wonder why.

Sorry for scantness today; have to get woek in before the holiday, and watched the game with the Giant Swede and the Crazy Uke Sunday night. Maddening loss, and I don't mean it tasted like turducken.

Or, don't, because you want to look better than the guest!

Back to the grand evil schemes of . . .

The final episode! Let’s celebrate by seeing the opening credits for the first time. It was as exciting as anything in this motley effort ever got.

The LAST CHAPTER!

Once again, we wonder: will he be killed by some ironic reversal of his own devious devices, or just arrested? Given his general ineffectiveness, it seems a bit much to wish for him to topple off a building or get crushed by a ribbot. Or electrocuted.

When we left off last month . . .

Yes, that’s an exciting and clear-cut scenario.

Couldn’t see that coming.

Well, they captured one of the gang, and he’s in the hospital. Back in the lair, the Invisible Monster Ruler is gloating over the cash he stole, and has decided to . . . embark on a reign of terror? No, he’s going to cool his heels and prepare for the construction of his Invisible Army.

Then he learns that the minion he thought was dead is in the hospital, and that changes everything. Now he has to find the guy and silence him. He’d better hurry; there are 9 minutes and 40 seconds left. So they head down to the backlot, because I guess Carson works out of the movie theater set now:

Off to the “hospital,” which honest to God is a house. Well, I guess one of those private hospitals.

Is it the same set used for other interior shots?

It is. The henches barge in, shoot the wounded guy, and give us our last hats-on fistfight, with a little FF to juice it up. Note the fellow who gets thrown into the back by the window, how long it takes him to recover, and how they’re still hats-on at that point.

They beat Carson, but of course they leave him alive. The hench they shot is still alive, and gives the location away for the lair.

Back at the hideout, the Invisible Monster is doing a little team-building.

So . . . the foreigners he brought over, illegally, to do his bidding, are somehow now “too well known,” so he’s going to ask them to something completely unsuspicious like attach THESE ENORMOUS METAL WANDS to the SPARKING THING and then when they’re found - by whom? - it’ll seem accidental.

I’m thinking we’re working up to ol’ IM getting the juice himself.

Carson shows up just as the IM is telling the henches they will be freed. He’s sitting in the Title Card Chair. Carson gets the drop on everyone, another cop shows up, collects the henches’ guns, and puts them on the table, right in from of the Invisible Monster! We know he’s there! They don’t!

Fitting end for this idiot.

Clean-up:

Uh no he never called himself that.

Also, remember that serials have to end with everyone laughing. If everyone doesn’t laugh here, it’s because Carson just suggested that the other insurance investigator take up stripping:

We did it! We got through one of the worst serials ever made.

And it was still fun.

		Now two ways to chip in!

That'll do. As you might expect, this week will be a bit different, since