Cigar-rolling B-rolls Wally finds oh so interesting.
Sybil Katrina Kibble
“Scooby-Doo: The Movie” Sybil watches for the Scooby Snacks.
JoAnn Kissane Kibble
“The Nut Job” is the favorite of Sybil’s ma JoAnn A/K/A “JK,” since she, Sybil and best friend PJ Hurlbutt love to go out squirrel-watching even though the neighbors think they are a little nuts.
Bernadette Moran Cacca
“The Wonderful World of Dung” Bern Cacca wishes she can see again (and again, and again), because she enjoys dropping a deuce. Her favorite part is watching the elephants pooping and peeing at the same time. Here she sits all broken hearted, tried to buy but only parted because the stupid thing is even not out on DVD.
Peppi Cacca
“Dude, Who Stole My Car?” is the only movie Peppi ever watched, because it’s the only dumb enough for him to understand.
Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt
“Batman Returns” is at the top of this narc-a-doodle neckbeard’s list. Damien feels bad for The Penguin because he identifies with him. He thinks the movie is all about him as he does everything else.
Robbie Roy Gary Hurlbutt
“Bubba Ho-Tep” Robbie Hurlbutt binges on repeat because he thinks he is the reincarnation of Elvis Presley. He leaves the building to watch it because his biggest fear is being locked in the washroom.
Konrad Teirant
“Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room” Kon watches on his smart-watch, so he can find timely recipes to cook the CRASS books.
Judy Avelli
“Scream” has Judi enticed because she has a thing for Ghostface.
Carla Rachella Amanda Medici Moran
Carla Moran (not to be confused with a different Carla Moran) watches “The Entity” in a recursive loop, when she can’t sleep. Then people tell her it’s all in her head…umm…beak.
Mack E. Avelli
“Battlefield Earth” is the beloved favorite movie of the CRASS chief. He thinks it is the best science fiction movie ever made and that it’s a true story.
“Oh man, I want to see the new movie Aim High but the tickets are all sold out. It opens this Friday, you know, the one based on the newest Nora Roberts book?” Dorian James rambles.
“Never heard of it.” Sybil tells Dorian in the CRASS cafeteria as she crunches her dog biscuits.
“I want to see it when it comes out, but the tickets are sold out because it is a Valentine’s Day movie.”
Sybil has a few extra minutes before she logs onto the phones, so she searches OKStupid for potential dates, reacting to herself as she reads through the personal ads.
“41 year old man in Chicago seeks female. Must be 18-25 and love sports.”
Nope.
“Do you like big trucks? 21 year old guy, loves beer, weed, works hard and plays hard, no games.”
Naw, I like the occasional backgammon.
“Rare frog, last of his species, seeks woman of any age to give him a kiss. Very polite tender-heart. Age 48. Bourbonnais.”
Just a photo of his feet? A bit odd, but I can try I guess.
Before Sybil has a chance to message the stinky feet from Bourbonnais, they email her.
Sybil and the mystery man email back and forth. They hit it off right away. The divorced man complains a lot about his ex-wife, which Sybil tunes out. Sybil talks about her love of lawnmowers and dog food, which the guy ignores only to interrupt her about his “poop elves” story.
It’s a Valentines Day in Kankakee. The birds are chirping and Sybil is tweeting online about how excited she is about her new man and the mystery gifts he keeps teasing her about. Could he be the next Robert Stack?
It is 11:30 and Sybil is on the phone trying to double down on debt. Operations Manager Mike Philips comes by with a delivery.
“Flowers for Sybil!”
Sybil hangs upon the debtor and immediately logs off the telephones. The long, green and cream box, sealed with packing tape, came from New Jersey. Sybil gets out her scissors. She struggles for 20 minutes and finally opens the box. Inside are 12 longstemmed roses individually attached to the box by hard plastic fasteners.
Sybil’s frustration grows as her scissors are not enough to loosen the delicate roses from their restraints, so she grabs a set of pliers from her drawer after five minutes of searching.
Finally, the flowers are out. Thankfully, the potential suitor included a vase. Sybil goes to the ladies’ washroom, fills the vase with water from the sink, and puts the haphazard bouquet on her desk.
Sybil calls her mystery man to thank him.
“You just won Valentine’ Day!” he says to her.
“I did?” Sybil sighs.
“Well, did anyone else get as much as you today?” He asks.
“I do not know. I did not look…and I am not that impressed by gifts. I am more of an acts of service person. I like when people do stuff for me,” Sybil tells the gentleman.
“Look in the box, Sybil.”
She looks in the box. She uncovers a movie ticket.
“You and I can go to the opening of Aim High tonight! I cannot wait to meet you!” he says.
“You sound familiar. What is your name, mine is Sybil.”
“Damien.”
“Oh, you’re PJ’s son. I remember you.” Sybil tells Damien, remembering the terror that communal narcissist Damien caused by mentally abusing his former wife, Lori.
“I know, I know, I know…I will meet you tonight at the show, M’lady Madame. I have long red hair, an orange neckbeard and I wear a black fedora.”
“Right. See ya.” Sybil says to Damien hangs up the phone and laughs.
Sybil dials Dorian James.
“Yup.”
“I got a movie ticket for you. Aim High. Tonight’s the opening night. It is all yours. Have fun!” Sybil tells Dorian.
Kankakee bill-collector and dog food connoisseur Sybil Kibble celebrates having won the annual Medication Name Pronounciation Contest for the 12th year in a row. What’s in those treats anyway? If you have any information that could help solve this mystery, please call her at 1-815-555-BILL.
Pop sales are slow. After brewing up some new ideas, Wally Green decides to it’s time promote his new wine line. Wanting to find a pretty spokeslady (or three) to help sell it, he calls up his girlfriend Bernadette Cacca. Butt, her smell phone keeps sending him to voicemail jail, so he calls up another act.
“It’s now Winesday, and I’m ready to get corkin’.” Wally announces.
The Manteno siblings open up with their number “You Can’t Hurry Death.”
Diana spies her number-one-stalker: vulnerable narcadoodle, Elvis impersonator and store clerk Robbie Hurlbutt.
“Oh snap, what’s he doing here? Doesn’t the store know I have a restraining order against his bum?”
Robbie goes right up to the promotional stage, and winks at the girls. “I got a hunka hunka burnin’ love for yoooouuu!” Robbie sings and starts dancing like a fool. The sisters put down their guitars and stop playing.
“Get bent, Robbie.”
Diana and the other two talented ladies shoo Robbie away, waving their hands like magic wands.
“But he works here, Diana!” Drugstore owner Wally Green says to the trio, making excuses of course. “Now make it rain, ladies!” Wally loves money almost as much as he does pretty ladies, just not their safety or well-being.
Robbie dances his goofy little self over to the wine cooler and shoves every single bottle into his little green shopping cart.
“We have an ICUP at the register. ICUP at the register.”
Before Robbie has a chance to whip out his ID, he has a clean-up on I’ll-Pee.
“Don’t get locked in the washroom!”
“Time to wash those blue suede shoes, now.”
“Elvis has left the drugstore.” After sharing a laugh at their creepy stalker’s expense, the black beauties start singing and playing their gothic cover tunes again.
“Stop! In the name of Death…before you break your crown.”
Meanwhile Wally assists Robbie cleaning up the aftermath from his sprung leak, because he’s good at losing slip-and-fall lawsuits.
“Let’s make work fun again!” announces Clio Bersola, Human Resources Director and Glee Club president for Kankakee debt collection firm Credit Recovery Associates, LLC (CRASS). She got permission from big cheese Mack E.. Avelli to open up a classifieds’ section to all employees, since their therapy goat did not pass probation.
Leaked from the CRASS intranet, here are some of the ads posted by CRASS staff and their buddies.
CRASS Classifieds: No matter how long you work, an ad in the classifieds never stops working.
001 LOST AND FOUND:
Lost: My mind. Please help! Call Mack at 555-3700.
002 ANNOUNCEMENTS:
Wanted: The beast in my dreams…the one that makes them loony! Call Judithann Avelli at 555-FIND if you find him. Don’t tell my husband.
004 FREE CRAP
Free movie tickets for any of M’ladies who would love to adorn this tenderheart on a date to the multiplex. I tip my fedora to you. Email Damien Hurlbutt at connivingpimp@hautemail.con
006 AUCTIONS:
Auction at the corner of Wally and Green Streets. Half-ply toilet paper, finger ale, a date with Wally Green and more.
010 WHOLESALE, RETAIL AND WHATEVER:
Lifetime supply of Sitagin, Just like the energizer bunny commercial from 1991! $40. 815-555-0000.
Money for sale! $20 bills only $26. Call 1-900-IM-CHEAP. Only $10 a minute.
011 APARTMENTS, UNFURNISHED:
One room apartment with water, 1 3/5 baths, 2 windows, no pets allowed. Call 815-555-RENT and ask Sonya.
020 FARM ANIMALS:
The perfect animal for all your farm work! Many colors from which to choose and low maintenance too! Call the Parakeet Center for more information at 815-000-BIRD.
030 INFORMATION FOR SALE:
Underground alien bases! Flat Earth! The Deep State! Call Konrad at 000-UFO-RIDE to buy some information the MSMSG won’t tell you.
032 SERVICE FOR SALE
We scratch CDs, records and crush cassettes. Reasonable rates. Call Pat at 815-555-KRUSH.
100 VACATION SPACE FOR RENT
Swampland! Free port-a-potty with every stay. Call 815-0UT-HAUS and ask for Bernadette or just pay her a visit at night when she’s hungry.
120 AUTOMOBILES
BRRRRPPPPPPHPTTMOBILES! All makes and models of these teeny-weeny motorbikes. As low as $500, seats and tires extra. We also have plenty of lifted trucks to lift your ego. Call Brandon’s Imbecile Machines at 815-555-STINK. Free roses for the laaadeeeees!
Before she has a chance to light her farts to ignite the port-a-poops (and her own), her husband busts down the door, and pukes all over the floor after having a wee too much moonshine again.
Neighborhood turd-burglar and assistant property manager JB Powers takes over Moran Properties after Sonya disappears, hoping to take over, helping himself to the skims of the profits (and maybe some turds too). Marty the Mailer-Daemon comes into the office with mail, JB freaks out.
“No, I’m just a daemon now. A mailer-daemon. The dead letter office transferred me here after I got my fork in the road message.”
JB runs out the office screaming, computer unlocked. Marty glides on over to have a look-see.
“Shall I format, see colon? Naaah, let’s look for buried treasure. Ahh! Oooh, there are some skeletons in these here file closets. Tenant files, ashes of former co-workers, dead bodies? These remains to be seen!” Marty thinks out loud as he sighs and takes a moment to process the newly uncovered data in his inter-dimensional mind.
Satan wants to have a word with his intake clerk, Lucy Furr. He takes the elevator up from his basement C-Suite to pay her a visit at the desk, where she reads the rules and regulations to the long line of newly damned souls, after they have signed their lives away.
“Why did you assign a Sonya Marie Smith Moran to the pale yellow isolation lair? It says right here that she’s to go directly into the jagged rock and bubbling excrement pits!” Hell’s CEO and owner demands of his underling, who had bullied a young autistic lady on a school trip to Italy, before working as a receptionist at many a doctor’s office on Earth.
“I’ve been doing this job for more than ten years–“
“Lucy, I don’t need a resume. I already know your entire life’s history, you’re not going anywhere.”
“Aunt Sonya’s been gone a long time. Who’s gonna run the show around here, and promote my wonderful gas…I mean this fantabulous venue?” Craptoqueen Bernadette belts.
Manteno Optimal Club barista-bartender Ant D. Yu just shrugs.
“I know honey, let’s have a contest,” bartender Dorian James suggests.
“You’re the GOAT!”
“No, YOU!”
Later that evening, the show goes on.
“It’s Sunday and YOU KNOW what THAT means!” orates emcee Konrad Teirant, 1/3 of traveling Vaudeville troupe Moronic Half-Assets.
“Drinks on the hoousssse!!!!” a patron heckles.
“No, silly goose. Do you want to do this job for me?”
“Of course!”
“Not if my wife has her way!” Konrad giggles, gives a snarky grin.
Eight-foot dumpster clown Madeline “Madwoman” Topolla-Teirant emerges and drags the former member by his…er…um…hair.
“It’s talent show time! The winner of this battle of the bands will take over as the brand spankin’ new president of the Poopy Groupies! Let’s have a hand for our first contestant, Wally Green!”
A slow clap echoes throughout the hall of the most Optimal Club in the Northern Illinois town known as Manteno.
I’ve got craptocoins Waiting just for you Made one hundred percent of some Port-a-poo
Come on, get some new From the doo-doo-doo Get them from her dookie vault Before she Bern’s them all!
I really like your art This is coming from my heart It smells just like my farts From the cheeks that I did part
How will I get in touch Do you use Whasapp much? You will make ten grand From this craptocoin plan!
NFTs for sale Hot and ready for you From Bernadette’s cloaca The old, old fashioned way
NFTs for sale Hot and ready for you From Bernadette’s cloaca The old, old fashioned way
Disarm the turd-machines Guarding Bern’s turd vault If you feel kinda funny, It’s not your fault
They smell really bad But they’re really cool Sliding from her bum Into your inbox!
I really like your art This is coming from my heart It smells just like my farts From the cheeks that I did part
How will I get in touch Do you use Whasapp much? You will make ten grand From this craptocoin plan!
NFTs for sale Hot and ready for you From Bernadette’s cloaca The old, old fashioned way
NFTs for sale Hot and ready for you From Bernadette’s cloaca The old, old fashioned way
Stop all this confusion Pardon the intrusion
I really like your art This is coming from my heart
It smells just like my farts From my cheeks that I did part
How will I get in touch Do you use Whasapp much?
You will make ten grand From this craptocoin plan!
(Wally beat-boxes out his butt)
This is all for you, no money down!
NFTs for sale NFTs for sale Hot and ready for you
NFTs For Sale Hot and ready for you From Bernadette’s cloaca The old, old fashioned way
NFTs for sale!”
The bulbous 60-something takes off his fishing cap, bows, then tucks his gut back into his trousers.
“That…was…interesting! Wally Green you guys!” MC Konrad announces.
“Who’s our next contestant, competing to win the heart of the farty princess herself, Mrs. Bernadette Cacca?”
Crickets chirp.
“No-one? Now certainly we have some competition? After all, he does own Wally Green’s Drugstores! ALL OF THEM!”
Konrad’s growing frustration begins to show across his wrinkled face, eyes on him, all six of them.
“Going once…going twice…gone! We have a new president!”
The portapotty empress, queen of the throne Bernadette Moran Cacca, reluctantly crowns her new fan-club president, Mr. Wally Green. A few people clap, the rest, “Craaap!”
“Now you’re gonna work for ME!”
“You mean, I can’t just stare at your beautiful face? You should smile more often, honey!”
Lil Ms. Craptocoin Bernadette Cacca drags Wally by the ear, into the back room, to talk about her backside table of contents.
This is the heavy-heavy bog witch sound…on Pootube.
Not watching the Superbowl? Neither is Bernadette Moran Cacca. Instead, the communal narcadoodle, bog witch and portable washroom empress is hosting a watch party with her Poopy Groupies at the Manteno Optimal Club:
Unfortunately, shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture, Ferengi-loving landlord, and fan-club president Aunt Sonya won’t be there. She flew the poop coop.
MoronicArts 
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