Kankakee pharmacy clerk, vulnerable narcissist and Elvis impersonator Robert Roy Gary Hurlbutt uses a Waluigi board to summon a single woman while hanging out at his mother PJ’s house. Minutes later, someone walks in.
“I forgot my phone, don’t know where I would be without it,” says next-door-neighbor JoAnn Kissane Kibble, mother of PJ’s best friend, 65-year-old Sybil Kibble.
Wife of Brandon Dixon – owner of Brandon’s Imbecile Machine – and mother to his kids; Pris Dixon is highly nosy, butts into strangers’ business out of pure ennui. She had been best friends with shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture Sonya Marie Smith Moran, until she had flown the coop.
She needs to get better hobbies.
Pris works as a Medical Office Assistant for her father-in-law Kankakee Ears, Nose, and Throat specialist Dr. Eddie Dixon, and as a store clerk at Archangel’s Craft Stores. She has a reputation for gaslighting patients and customers just to confuse them.
Police refuse to let her victims press charges, save for once, stating Pris “is just mentally ill.” Yes, acting like a sociopath is a mental problem, which causes her victims to seek treatment.
“You’re crazy, the only one on the bus whoever starts problems!”
— Pris Dixon gaslighting her verbal and physical abuse targets
Pris proudly drives a green imbecile machine given to her by Brandon, branded with “You just got passed by a girl” decals.
Pris was raised by wealthy parents who gave her everything she wanted. Pris feels that, because she is a parent, she should cut in line at the cafes and burger joints. She dislikes the child-free by choice and gets her kicks by invalidating their feelings. Pris feels that only parents can make a valid point, and that life does not begin until you become a mother or father.
Methinks she needs a reality check.
“You don’t need to emerge from nothing.”
— Fischerspooner
Oh what, pray tell do you think he is making? Wally wants to sell these inventions in the Kankakee Wally Green’s pharmacies. Look for them on a corner near you!
GLASSHOLES:
These sunglasses slip off and plop on the floor so you have to buy more! Other features that Wally think will change your life:
These glasses get caught on all your stuff, just to annoy you. Made of the cheapest plastic in Illinois, Glassholes smear constantly despite daily cleaning. Pair them with a face mask, they will be sure to steam up without fail.
Feel the power of Glassholes when they disappear within the bowels of your bag only to reappear when not looking for them.
PLASTIC BOTTLE TABS:
Mandatory for all Wally Greens’ products, they make all products you buy twice as hard to open! Buy one, get one 50 per cent off (but never free).
AUTOINCORRECT:
Now with even more errors, Autoincorrect is now pre-installed in every phone! Embarrass your co-workers! Impress your friends with each new autoincorrection.
HALF-MOON TOILET SEAT:
The half-moon toilet seat is a real game-changer, it only fits half your moon! Wally Green’s uses less plastic and you pay more money. Sit on it incorrectly and you might pinch your thigh! This product is a win-win-win for Wally Green.
Buy this useless crap at your corner Wally Green’s! Apply now for a WallyCard. Everybody is pee-qualified! Get a free date with Mr. Green himself! Craptocoins not accepted.
Why stop at first names when we can talk about the entire moronic moniker manufacturing process?
After doing port-a-jobs, queen of the plastic throne Bernadette Moran Cacca likes to “Bern” the port-a-poopies in her fireplace after lighting her farts to kindle the BMs. Meanwhile her other half (one of them anyway), Peppi Peter Cacca rolls the port-a-pee into his skunkweed to make it smell extra skunky, much to the chagrin of next-door-neighbors Gothic Diana Ross & The Midnight Supremes.
Robert Roy Gary Hurlbutt‘smother PJ loves to brag about the night her Rotten little Robbie/Elvis impersonator and vulnerable narc was conceived…in Gary, Indiana.
“RRGH!”
– Robbie Hurlbutt
Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt was straight up daemonic to his ex-wife Lori. Not anticipating consequences, the communal narcadoodle tried to storm Area 51, only to get captured by the Camo Dudettes and brought into the Alternative Fuels Department for daily flatulence testing. He’s the world’s largest source of natural gas…so…DUH!
Walter Augustine Green has been looking for the magnet to his steel, hoping to impress ladies at The Gaslight Bar with his tall tales of grandeur and playing of the nose air-horn since he cannot carry a tune to save his life…though that doesn’t stop him from trying.
Krispy Münchausen tells even taller tales than Wally, punches co-workers when she doesn’t get her way, and teaches locals how to steal lawn ornaments. She had purposely homeschooled her four kids to isolate them socially and keep them from learning important subjects like science and history, replacing them with Flat Earth yarns and antivaxxer poopaganda. One time she SWATted Gothic Diana Ross along with her sisters — then had the audacity to demand an apology from THEM! She brags about her plans to fly to the Moon to “prove to the world that it’s flatter than a pancake,” those unwillingly in her orbit wish she would take a rocket there and never come back.
Kankakee County ladies’ man Wally Green has been notorious for his wacky inventions for quite some time. Some of his ideas have made it into his drug stores. Others failed to pass patent approval and almost landed him in prison.
Finger Ale
Made from real fingers, this new organic health drink was set to be the new health craze, only it failed FDA requirements, and put Wally on several law enforcement watch lists.
Toiliot
This production-oriented, automated toilet would flush well ahead of schedule and make sure to splash its user, doubling as a bedde. As an added bonus, Toiliot would entertain people by making fart noises after flushing, much like Wally would when he blew his nose.
Passhole
This computer program would require its user to type in their password correct the first time. Any error would result in electric shock and their account locking up immediately.
Do not look for these products at a Wally Green’s near you. Just don’t. We’re warning you.
Entramanure and communal narcadoodle Bernadette Cacca loves doing charity gigs just to look good on the outside. Gothic Diana Ross & the Midnight Supremes can not wait to try out their new trebuchet to avenge their Manteno neighbor Bernadette for relentlessly nagging them and stinking up the block burning port-a-poopies.
Yeet-o-Matic!
Kankakee bill-collector and dog-chow diner Sybil Katrina Kibble had left her lawn sprinkler spit-spit-spitting, too lazy to care about water conservation, while she drove her Chrysler LeBaron all the way to Chillicothe to buy herself a sit-down lawnmower right before the race. Sybil insisted on winning the Annual Lawnmower Race.
Sadly, silly-billy Sybil lost the lawnmower race because she was too loopy from inhaling helium.
Too lazy to drive, Sybil wished to hang glide back home to Kankakee. However, she could not fly because she was too scared. This idea never got off the ground.
Meanwhile, Sybil’s spit machine went awry, flooding her entire lawn and that of neighbor Kitty Bee’s too!
Adding insult to injury, Sybil then she got chased by a swarm of angry kitties and bees! Poor Sybil.
She then left compete in Fire Truck racing with her Ma JoAnn! Ooh, what fun!!!
Kankakee bill-collector Sybil Kibble loves the taste of dog food so much, she eats it on her breaks and for supper.
Because of the shipping delays, Sybil cannot find her beloved Alpo online to buy.
Frustrated with repeated bouts with the Spinning Cheerio of Death, she opts for Brand X instead, reluctantly.
Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Accounting Chief Konrad “Kon” Teirant is having trouble balancing the assets against the liabilities, even after having cooked the books to a carbonized mess.
Chief Executive Officer Mack. E. Avelli calls in Konrad to hold a meeting.
“Kon, if we cannot make ourselves look good to our investors, we are going to fail as a company. I don’t need you to be honest about it, I need you to make us some more money. Just get it done.”
“I’ll think up something. You won’t be disappointed.”
“Good,” the fifty-something Mack says to Konrad and starts texting his 22-year-old wife Judithann, who ignores his message because she is too busy flirting with daemons.
It is midnight here in Kankakee.
The fire alarm sounds for the third time this week at the Kankakee’s Best Low-Budget Apartments, complete with strobe lights, sirens and a man’s voice repeating the same message over and over again.
As the residents of this sorry apartment building wake up and use the washroom, Moronic Half-Assets (MHA) takes the elevator up to each floor in the tower.
“It is midnight and you know what time that is! Come on, guys, let’s all dance! Didn’t you see that four-page flyer we left on all of your doors telling you to exercise more? We knocked on your doors because we had nothing better to do! Resident deejay Konrad is on the ones and twos!” exclaims property manager, narcadoodle and Vaudeville clown Madeline Topolla-Teirant.
DJ Konrad Teirant picks some records out of his crate, and begins spinning and scratching, rapping over the music.
Resident Tyrell Fowler — out in the hall wondering what the racket is about — explains to Konrad “dude, you cannot scratch 1950s love songs,” and walks back into his unit.
“Let’s get out the glowsticks everybody!” Madeline says as she pulls them from the fire-hose compartment on the wall.
Robbie sings Elvis tunes as he dances away, doing moronic martial arts moves on the in-between.
The MHA troupe packs up their party-gear and heads upstairs to the next floor in the tower.
When the crew are all done waking up their residents, they head downstairs to the office and turn off the alarms. Finally those poor residents can get some sleep.
“Here is your check, Kon. We will write it off as a business expense here at the complex.”
“Great, I will bring it to CRASS tomorrow,” Kon tells his wife Madeline and they head home in Robbie’s clown car. Elvis has left the building.
“Oh good, I got it,” a resident says sitting in her bed, as she reviews the video she recorded on her phone.
Konrad Teirant heads into the CRASS office, strutting along the halls with a turd-eating-grin across his face as he makes his way over to the office of his supervisor, Mack E. Avelli.
“Kon! You have a great smile! You should smile more often.”
Kon hands Mack the knife…errrr…check.
“Oh good! Now you can keep your job!” Mack tells his subordinate Konrad.
Kon says nothing and heads back into his office to cook more books.
Meanwhile, the CRASS phones light up like a Christmas tree. However the increased call volume is not from debtors calling back the CRASS collectors.
“I saw that video on the news, your accounting dude and his buddies woke some poor folks up in the middle of the night hosting some hokey rave party? What were you thinking?”
Beep.
“Hey, this Trisha Cobb, better known as Gothic Diana Ross. You know, from The Midnight Supremes? We saw what you did when we watched the news. That’s not cool.”
Beep.
“Hello, this message is for Mr. Avelli. I am Geoff, an auditor with the firm Deltoid & Tush. We were asked to contact you about your accounting records. We are stopping by in an hour.”
“Kon, how do we cook the books now? Ya better cook them good this time,” Mack shouts to an empty room. Since he was up half the night, Kon took the rest of the day off to go home and now he is fast asleep, sawing a forest.
[ Sign the petition inspired by this story and read about what inspired me to write it! ]
Scary Barry Reynolds gets fired from his job as a road-test proctor for the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles, and starts his own college called “Dr. Mathew B. Johnson School of Intrepid Arts” in Albion, Indiana, teaching martial arts and telekinesis, a school he named after his favorite academic leader and best friend.
“Become as powerful as the Dragonball Y characters you see on TV! Develop your real life martial-arts skills, and when you get to your senior year, you’ll become a PSI-ball master!”
“Not this ad again…” Gothic Diana Ross says across the Indiana border in Manteno, Illinois at the slate Victorian home where she and her bandmates reside. “Who wants to go to Indiana anyway?”
“Indiana wants us, but we can’t go back there.” Gothic Flo retorts and The Midnight Supremes all giggle.
Classes begin at the School of Intrepid Arts in Albion. Students practice basic self-defense, mixed martial arts and fencing.
“A new life awaits you at the School of Intrepid Arts” a flashing, talking blimp advertises as it flies over Northern Indiana and Illinois, spending a rather long time over Chicago, until someone begins to fire at it.
“Pop! Pop!” is heard as the floating advertisement-machine is gunned down somewhere on the Southside.
A scholar gets harassed in his dorm, racial remarks litter his marker board. One moron, Pat Splatt, writes “KKK” on an empty pizza box and drops it outside his dorm room.
Protests are held by multiple school groups which make the local news.
“I will answer that later. Come back.” President Reynolds tells the news, and does not return their calls.
The scholar tries to learn to make “PSI Balls” on the internet and learns that it is fake. Meanwhile President Reynolds uses school money to pay for pet construction projects so he can hire his wife Terry’s company to do all the work.
Barry and Terry make the classes so hard, it is impossible to pass. Barry and Terry love seeing the disappointed faces of aspiring martial-arts students receive their report cards littered with Fs.
President Barry Reynolds sends out a memo to his wife Terry using negative humor, snarking she should bulldoze “trash and idiots who live on minimum wage.” Barry accidentally copies the entire college on the email.
Oopsie!
Students start creating memes and Fakebook groups. President Barry reports them to Fakebook owner Emperor Zucc who shuts them all down.
Students take to the news to expose the corruption.
The scholar is interviewed, and talks about his brother — also a student — who died when trying to defend a bully using “PSI Balls.”
“If President Reynolds wants to create chaos and censor those who rise up against his regime, then maybe he should move to North Korea. I bet he would feel right at home.”
Barry and Terry visit Bern Cacca bathing in the bog near Manteno, Illinois, for public-relations advice hoping to clean up their image, since Bern is so good at maintaining her squeaky clean image while doing dirty those closest to her. Oh, and she burns poopies.
“Bern Cacca? We have an important message. We need your help.”
Bog Witch Bern keeps on swimming.
“Bern? We have something to tell you.”
Bern continues to ignore the looming Terry and Barry.
“Bern? We want to know how you keep your image so clean while you do others dirty.”
“Can’t you see I am taking a bath?” an angered Bern yells back, hoping to be left alone.
“Oh you are so…RUDE!” Terry snarks at Bern.
“I am busy. Go away.”
“God hates ugly people! I am calling the manager!” Terry says out of desperation and fear.
“I am the manager.” Bern replies as she shoos away Terry and Barry.
“I wish my hearing aids were broken.” Peppi Cacca says to his wife Bern and the Reynolds couple leaves.
The Indiana Attorney General investigates and shuts the school down, and the story makes television headlines.
“Oh good, we no longer have to see those annoying ads.” Gothic Flo says to Gothic Diana and then turns off her TV.
MoronicArts 
You must be logged in to post a comment.