Kankakee covert narcissist, Elvis impersonator and wannabe ladies’ man Robbie Hurlbutt is busy staring himself in the mirror and kissing his Gothic Diana Ross posters, only to be interrupted by a call from his mother PJ Hurlbutt.
“Robbie, you need to come over.”
“It is imperative that you come over.”
Robbie drives his clown car over to PJ’s house, and pulls into her driveway.
“Hi Mom. What’s up?”
“I need your help moving stuff in the basement up here. I need to sell some things.”
“Ask your neighbor Sybil to do it,” Robbie demands.
“Why won’t you help your mother? I am living on a fixed income, I need you to call D-Mobile about my bill. Then I need you to wash my underwear and fold it.”
“I don’t have time. Look, Mom, I gotta run.”
PJ goes into a long tangent about her love of Lawrence Welk, her medical problems, and her thoughts on Millennials.
“Alright! I will do the chores! I am in a dark mood, and you’re being cold to me!” Robbie gaslights his mother, playing the victim because he does not wish to help anyone but himself.
PJ watches Lawrence Welk, cranking up the volume to get petty revenge on her even pettier son Robbie.