Doris Krabalsky wants to be a real bossbabe. This snake-oily mama from Kankakee slides emojis and thinly veiled spam into inboxes all over Fakebook, feigning her concern and admiration for the people whom she calls “hun.”
Linda walked into a Kankakee bar to get a drink, not knowing all the single men would take notice. Who will she choose?
Pharmacy clerk, vulnerable narcissist and Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt?
Cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narc-a-doodle Damien Hurlbutt?
Wacky inventor, drugstore owner and sadist Wally Green?
CRASS Bill collector, and desperate hillbilly Dale Davis?
So many bottom-feeders, so little time.
“Dating is like shooting a bunch of arrows and missing the target every time.”
– Linda Stay
Kankakee drugstore clerk, Elvis impersonator and vulnerable narcadoodle Robbie Hurlbutt is feeling down because he cannot seem to get a date. Do you think he will ever figure out why?
Isn’t he a keeper? He thinks so.
Bourbonnais cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narcissist Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt was last seen near Area 51.
While cleaning out his ex-employee’s desk, Teirant Cinema-13 owner Konrad Teirant found Damien’s scribbled-on evaluation forms. Behold, the work of a master-moron!
Join Kankakee’s newest Vaudeville act, MHA – Moronic Half Assets, across the USA! Kankakee theatre owner and comedian Konrad Teirant joins his dumpster-clown wife, Madeline, in Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt’s clownmobile as they tour the country! See them before they leave their stop in Utica, New York!
MHA’s 2024 tour dates:
Champaign, IL: February 30
Kankakee, IL: February 31
Gary, IN: April 31
Toledo, OH: June 31
Utica, NY: September 31
Kankakee, Illinois’ number one Elvis impersonator, Wally Green’s drugstore clerk and vulnerable narcadoodle Robbie Hurlbutt has a huge crush on Midnight Supremes lead singer Gothic Diana Ross. After all, she is an impersonator also, and he wants to make a huge impression on her. She has a gig coming up soon and he is scheming to find a way to connive his boss, store owner Wally Green into letting him hang up her show poster at work to promote her music as he thinks it will somehow make her like him.
”Hey Robbie, have a look at these paper towels I invented just for my store: Half the size, twice the cost. All the frustration when you go to rip off a sheet, thanks to me!” boasts a balding, squat, rotund Wally Green as he tips his fishing cap.
“I know, boss, let’s put them on a groovy display table near the front of the store so the suckers — I mean customers — will think they are getting them on sale.”
“Great idea! I am glad I thought of it!” Wally exclaims with glee, throwing his stubby arms into the air.
“Well…now that I, boss, thought of such a splendid idea, I have a favor to ask. This band is really a gas and I want to hang up their poster for their upcoming show at the store,” Robbie says to his superior with bedroom eyes, dreaming of Miss Gothic Diana Ross, the only Boss he could ever want.
“Naw. Get back to work. I need you to make production metrics this time. Start selling people some pills they really do not need.”
Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Lead Debt Collector Sybil Kibble comes into Wally Green’s Drugstore to buy an iced coffee and a bag of dog biscuits for lunch as she forgot hers at home.
“Ehh. Out of order again. Must be that half ply toilet paper,” Sybil thinks out loud.
“The washroom is on the blink?” Robbie asks, aghast.
“Yeah and I am in a hurry!” Sybil shouts as she makes her way over toward the men’s room.
“Do not go in there!” Robbie commands Sybil.
Sybil walks by Gothic Diana Ross in the men’s room, who is looking in the mirror, applying her jet-black eyeliner. She pinches a huge loaf in the stall next to Wally Green, who is busy whizzing away in the urinal. Sybil flushes but does not clean up the mess on the seat, flinging the door wide open with her arm. She makes a beeline for the sink and spots Diana sarcastically chortling away at the Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes poster on washroom wall.
A befuddled Robbie struts into the men’s room.
“I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME IN HERE!” Robbie shouts at the women. “THIS IS THE MEN’S ROOM.”
“Get back to work, Robbie, the ladies’ room is closed. Take down this poster while you are at it and apologize to our customers.” Wally Green tells his employee Robbie.
“I am sorry IF I offended you.” Robbie smirks.
“Get lost!” Diana and Sybil chant in unison as they leave the bathroom.
Sybil buys her lunch and heads back to work. Wally sells lots of paper towels and Robbie is put on temporary janitorial duty until he improves his customer service skills. But don’t lock him in the bathroom. He thinks he is Elvis.
Back in 2017, I wanted to create a character inspired by my parents’ elderly neighbor who would call them several times a day, asking for favors, not taking no for an answer. Her original name was “Katy Scary.” However I felt the need to make some changes as the neighbor had gotten ill and sadly passed away.
Instead of modeling the Hurlbutt matriarch after my parents’ neighbor, a former co-worker came to mind who fit the personality and loo of the character I was developing..
Some time ago, I had worked in a call center. If you had to call T-Mobile and were greeted by “Rep 12-3456”, that was me, and yes that was my real ID. Seated to my left was a young male who told tall tales of going to Afghanistan over the weekend and coming back to work on Monday. Seated to my right was this lady who wore muumuus to work every day, until our supervisor complained about her violating our already casual dress-code.
This 55-ish slovenly lady asked me for help with her workstation and her calls. I have always loved to help people, however I felt this woman took advantage of me by asking the same questions repeatedly without showing her appreciation. At this call center, we could all relate to the challenges working with our customer base and would go up to a random representative in the break room and vent. However, the main inspiration behind PJ seemed like she was uncut for the job due to her poor emotional range. She had no regard for boundaries, just randomly talking to people bugging them, even if they had made it clear they were busy.
Back in 2019, I parodied the Peloton bike ad which raised controversy from its sexist overtones. I drew her son Damien dreaming up the idea of buying one of their bikes to help his mother lose weight.
Of course, her next-door neighbor Sybil Kibble thinks PJ is great, because she is just as moronic.
WORDS AND ART BY JENX Good cheese is like a fine wine (or coffee if you’re like me and don’t drink.) I would not suggest putting it in your glass. You do you, though. We all have guilty pleasures, methinks. Take cheesy music, for example. Some of us even make secret play lists for our…
FROM THE AMERICAN CHEESE SPECIAL: ‘Good cheese is like a fine wine’ by JENX — The Gorko Gazette
Hey, sis, Bernadette’s enabler aunt almost ran me over tonight!
Carla Moran and her closet alcoholic sister have made it a habit to eat dinner over at Bernadette and Peppi Cacca’s house next door. You know, those loud stinky idiots who complain about our music. Those shapeshifting vultures rarely used to come here to visit the bog-witch except on occasion at holidays. Carla and Sonya flew in from Albion, Indiana, after doing sky donuts looking for carrion, I’m sure.
Tonight when I was halfway through the street, the aunt of that stupid communal narcadoodle Bernadette made a left out of Bern’s parking lot and nearly hit me. I waved at the driver, to alert her to wait. Nope, stupid moron kept beeping at me.
I screamed at her, and then flipped the bird once I had safely crossed. Her family is chock fulla enablers and I wish someone had taken the aunt’s keys away by now. Stupid fool drinks wine by the box! Hey, I’m no angel however I am in recovery and it’s daily, hard work. Ya know what? I do it.
Diana
“Hey, I am almost to the bank, I’ll text you later.”
–Sonya
k
— sent from a jpay phone
Hey, my dahling niece Bernadette. The bank is closed. I ran all the way there only for them to close on me! Their ATM is broken. Sorry I cannot bail you out. When is your trial?
–Sonya
Not soon enough. I cannot believe this community allowed this to happen to me. I do so much for you, I do so much for them. I am an Actor/musician/writer/piano bar empress who raises money for charity. I paid to heal 1000 blind men on TakTik all with craptocoins straight from my bum! I am God, and in prison, about to be hung from a cross. This is all their fault!
— sent from a jpay phone
Diana is fed up with the Caccas’ and Morans’ shenangians:
Hello sir:
May I please submit a tip to you regarding a drunk driver? I almost got hit by her Friday around 7:15PM at the intersection of Kant Street and Utica Ave in Manteno, Illinois. Her name is Sonya Moran and she lives at 1304 O’Brien Ave, Albion, IN. She is a closet alcoholic and usually starts drinking around 4:30 PM daily.
Can the police please keep an eye on that area? I don’t want her to hit anybody. It almost happened to me. I think she drives a white crossover of some sort.
I want no drama, just want to keep people safe.
Sincerely,
Trisha Cobb (Gothic Diana Ross)
Bernadette gets desperate for bail money by leaving fake reviews using her jpay mobile phone, which she loaded with craptocoin:
Bernadette Cacca recommends Black Kow Manure
I met a recommendation by someone on this page writing how Mr Pat Splatt helped her earn $10,000 with $700 weekly on forex and craptocoin trading, wow I’m happy to let you know that it’s so real contact him now to know how its works and start making profit on craptocoin trades. Whatsapp: +1(815) 555-1896
“Success doesn’t come to you, You go to it… I’m not the one to call you to invest and have a bright financial situation. If you know what’s right, you’re supposed to contact him now and start trading ASAP”
Stylish interior
Tasting menus
Curbside Pickup
— sent from a jpay phone
“Come on Bernadette, we’re letting you go home.”
“Bail reform in my favor?”
“No, your farts are a safety hazard and pose a security risk to the other inmates.”
“Woo-hoo! I’m free!” Manteno’s favorite fake-do-gooder, communal narcadoodle and entramanure does a little happy dance, gyrating her hips like she’s pouring soft-serve from her bum.
Bernadette is in such a hurry to become irregular that she nearly runs over one of the regulars at the coffeehouse. She is a crappy driver.
She wants to get the runs, Gotta mine that craptocoin and those NFTs: newly-formed turds for her charity singing and kazoo playing which she does only for the photo opportunity. Looks are deceiving because she makes a good dog-and-pony poop show pretending she cares.
She only loves poop.
Bernadette calls her husband Peppi to let him know that she is free from jail. “We need a new jingle for our portable john business.”
“Like a hole in the head we do!” Peppi replies.
“How about we do a mashup of Lincolnshire Poacher and Funeral March for a Marionette and you rap over it? I’ll play the entire song on accordion and kazoo.”
“Mayyyybeee…” Peppi chortles as he takes a huge drag off his skunky joint. The Caccas love to smell bad.
Leona Krabalsky scowls at Sybil Kibble the whole time she is in her range of view at the Bourbonnais Buckstars. Leona’s evil gaze goes right through Sybil and she smiles wide intentionally, because she is living her best life and wants it to show. She cannot wait to taste that initial sip.
“Can I ask you something?” Leona asks Sybil, despire her body language giving off a glaring “no.”
Sybil makes her way back to her table to drink her iced mocha. Meanwhile Kankakee County troll Leona follows her to her table to spam her some more with her unsolicited advertisements of her nosey questions.
Sybil waves her arms to assert Leona “no,” however she asks anyway. “Where did you get that bag, I like that bag.”
“No means no!” Sybil chants, grabs her things and leaves. No Area 31 Bag sale for pyramid schemer and hag Leona.
Frustrated with her lack of business, Leona Krabalsky makes her way for home, the Exit 315 interchange. As she sulks, a mad driver squeals her brakes as she pulls over to Mrs. Krabalsky, nearly hitting her.
“Hey where did you get that bag?”
Stunned, Leona’s eye open up wide, her jaw drops.
“Area 31.”
“Did it come from outer space?”
“No, but I can get you a deal that is out of this world.”
The two morons shake hands, Sonya Moran peels away, her niece Bernadette Moran Cacca smiles with her tongue hanging out.
Sonya and Bernadette head toward Manteno and the Bradley police car makes his usual patrol up and down the main drag — or does he?
Happy to be free from jail Bernadette heads upstairs to the washroom and pinches a massive loaf, not even waving to her husband Peppi sitting on the rocking chair, drinking moonshine.
“Time to mine more craptocoin! My turd vault is fresh out.”
A siren heard in the background, gets louder, its doppler effect fading as the decibels rise.
“Ooh, party horns!” Bernadette jumps for joy.
Bernadette tells her aunt about her prison stay:
“I had an absolutely epic month in jail. Had the ENORMOUS pleasure of police reading my terrifically, bigly, colorful rights in a flashy car. Stellar food — included with cot are THREE HOTS and many visits with friends from far and near. Wow. Here’s to Kankakee County Jail.”
“What are you on, hon?” Peppi asks his wife Bernadette. “Can I get some of that?”
Bernadette’s smell phone rings but she does not answer, too busy gushing about her fun times behind bars and all the friends she made. “They are totally going to give me community service, I just KNOW it.”
Bernadettes phone continues to ring as she continues to ignore it.
“Darn it. I did not know these fools were going to pay in Craptocoin.” Leona says to her sister Doris. Leona makes a call to someone else.
January 14, 2023, was the last day I performed in person with other people. I was at The Manteno Optimal Club, and I re-live-streamed my shift because I honestly wanted to encourage people. I thought, “This will be an interesting experiment for a couple of months or however long they keep me in this silly prison cell.” ONE MONTH LATER, and a BIG thank you Aunt Sonya.”
“Wooo-hoo!” the histrionic Sonya screams as she runs and then jumps onto her man Bingle-Derry, spindly legs wrapped clear around his waist.
“Knock-knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Manteno Police. This is not a joke.”
Peppi opens the door, glad that his stash is well hidden.
“Are you Mr. Peepee…Cacca?”
“Peppi.”
“We need a word with your wife. Is she home?”
Bernadette retracts in fear, stunned she could possibly be in trouble. After all, she thinks she did nothing to deserve her jail sentence. Her mind races as she prepares excuses.
“We heard that you were dealing in some funny money.”
“Oh not her, she is a WONDERFUL person,” Sonya tells the cop.
“I am asking Bernadette.”
“Sir, we can talk about this. Here, how much do you need for your funding? Let me get you a coffee and–“
“Don’t bribe me unless you want arrested.”
The smell of Bernadette burning her turds overwhelms the cop, who coughs his way out the Cacca homestead.
“Oh hey officer, ya got a minute?” Gothic Diana Ross asks, gesturing for the cop to come over to her next-door home.
The gothic singer and the officer exchange information and a wandering Leona Krablasky slaps Di five.
Bernadette gets yeeted from her home and back into the clink where she belongs, along with her aunt Sonya who is thrown into the drunk tank.
Much to Bernadette’s dismay, and the delight of her fellow inmates, the jail chef changes the menu to a bland diet.
How did Deerfield-born, Kankakee County pharmacy-chain owner Wally Green become so rich? He learned from the very best, so says his mother.
MoronicArts 
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