Pat Splatt’s Viral Video

“Fifth time today. Who is this moron?” Kankakee student and barista Ant D. Yu asks his partner.

“Hang up.” Dorian James says to Ant.

“Brandon’s Imbecile Machines. That’s is. I am blocking these fools.”

A knock is heard and Ant checks the peephole. The uninvited guest pounds the doorknocker.

Ant opens the door.

“Oh, hi Sybil.”

“Hey Ant. Do you have any dog food? I am hungry.”

“No Sybil. I told you before. Our family does not have a dog. But thanks for stopping by.”

“Okay. I did not know if you guys got one now.”

“Have a good day Sybil.”

Ant closes the door and a disappointed Sybil Kibble heads back to her McMansion down the street.

Sybil’s phone rings as she strides home. After she walks into one of her three garages, she checks her caller ID:

“BRANDON’S IMBECILE MACHINES

KANKAKEE, IL”

Sybil sees that this entity has called twelve times in the past three days and because of this, she blocks their number from calling again. She then heads inside and munches down on some dry doggie chow.

Gothic Diana Ross, a Kankakee singer and impersonator, is busy pulling up her black fishnet stockings when her phone lights up.

“Who is this?” Di thinks to herself and checks her screen.

“Brandon’s Imbecile Machines? Block.”

Di stares in the mirror for ten minutes, puts on her eyeliner, then starts listening to her own singing.

Brandon Dixon, owner of Brandon’s Imbecile Machines, is getting frustrated by the lack of response to the new phone campaign for his lifted truck lot. He remembers a tactic he had learned during his tenure at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) in Kankakee, and changes his mode of operation.

Ant Yu gets a call from an unknown number. He is in the habit of screening his calls and lets it go to voicemail. The next day, he checks his messages, and deletes the voicemail from “Brandon” asking him to call back, who has not explained why he had called.

Sybil gets a voicemail from Brandon and deletes it. Gothic Diana Ross does as well.

Brandon is again frustrated by the nonexistent return on his low-budget marketing investment for his overcompensated vehicle lot.

Knowing that Kankakee slimeball Pat Splatt might be able to hustle on his behalf, he calls. Pat teams up with Robbie Hurlbutt to try and spam people all over Kankakee by stealing Fakebook Martplace accounts.

Pat Oswald Splatt, or POS for short, develops a Fakebook virus to steal accounts for Brandon. It is disguised as a video featuring a picture of Sybil Kibble eating a can of cheap, wet dog food. Pat’s buddy and partner-in-crime Robbie Hurlbutt snuck it using his mobile phone, in the company break room, when he worked at CRASS for two weeks.

“Check this out, Robbie and Brandon!”

Pat shows off his newly minted virus, disguised as a video, designed to slide into Fakebook Martplace instant message boxes all over Kankakee.

“Kankakee bill collector eats dog food for lunch” reads the caption below the fake video that is really a virus.

“Once people click on this pretend video, the virus will send US the users’ login credentials. We will start by replying to Fakebook Martplace ads. That way we will find suckers really easily.”

The room fills with laughter.

“I based the virus off code I used to program a broken 1989 Atari emulator, accidentally broken on purpose. Those were my script kiddie days, back when I used to try and own noobs.”

“You are a noob, Pat.” Robbie snickers.

Pat launches the virus and Robbie gets ready to collect the login credentials so he can pool them into a spreadsheet.

Days go by…nothing.

Pat tests the virus and it is operational.

“Are you sending the virus out, Pat? I am paying you to do this.” Brandon asks.

“I am sending but nobody is a-clickin.”

“How about we step it up and generate a whole bunch a windows?” Brandon asks Pat.

“Good idea.”

Pat modifies the virus code to replicate multiple windows featuring Sybil Kibble enjoying her doggie dinner. The recursive windows end up crashing some computers, while most others fail to get infected at all, as the ancient technology powering the virus gets caught by even the most basic pop-up killer.

Brandon storms in on a sleeping Pat Oswald Splatt, curled up in his chair listening to a Robbie Hurlbutt Elvis impersonation video on a loop to try and increase his watch count.

“That’s it, I want my money back! I made nothing off your crappy viral marketing campaign!”

“Who-what-um-who is this? Hello?”

“Quit the drama! I want my money back!”

“Oh, hi Brandon.”

“Don’t hi Brandon me. I need my money back and I need it right now!”

“You will get your money back alright. Your bank charge failed because you had no money. You cheap fool!” Pat exclaims at Brandon and falls out his squeaky metal chair.

Brandon begins to laugh.

“Oopsie.” Pat giggles as Brandon leaves his former partner-in-crime and dials up another goofy plan in his head.

CRASS Cubicle Contest

“You are number one!” Team Leader Sybil Kibble tells new part-time Collections Representative, Robbie Hurlbutt.

“I know,” Robbie smirks.

“No, I mean you made the top of our production metrics. Good job, keep doubling down on debtors and you will do well here at CRASS.”

Robbie flashes a thumbs up to Sybil and swings back around to his cubicle.

“Ding.” Everybody gets the same email.

From: “Mack. E. Avelli” [bigmack@crass-llc.con]

To: “CRASS Corporate Listserv” [all-crass-l@crass-llc.con]

Friday, October 25, 2019

Subject: Cubicle Decoration Contest

We here at CRASS care about employee stress. Therefore I, as your polite and tenderhearted Chief Executive Officer, am extending an entire thirty minutes (:30) to participate in the company cubicle contest (CCC). Be creative in decorating your cubicles and have fun! You are not required to use your lunch for this event, but we encourage you because time is money!

The winner will be selected by our very own art director, the lovely and talented Dorian James on Halloween Day.

The prize will be a trophy to display in your office. Have a spooky good time!

Regards,

Mr. Mack E. Avelli

CRASS Chief Executive Officer

The collectors get to work making calls and decorating their cubicles. Robbie Hurlbutt, a local Elvis impersonator best known for an Internet meme featuring a scowling lady unhappy with his nursing home performance, covers his cube with Elvis record covers. Dale Davis covers his walls with ghouls and goblins. Sybil Kibble covers her supervisor cubicle with devil dogs.

It is a cold, windy Halloween day in Kankakee and it is starting to rain. “If you don’t like the weather here in the Midwest, wait five minutes,” Dale jokes to Sybil.

“Eeep!” The email all of CRASS has been waiting for comes in.

“Who changed our notification sound to a wild eep?” Robbie asks.

“That was probably Dorian,” Sybil sighs.

From: “Dorian James” [dorian@crass-llc.con]

To: “CRASS Corporate Listserv” [all-crass-l@crass-llc.con]

Thursday, October 31, 2019

Subject: Cubicle Decoration Contest Winners and Losers

Sybil: Your design lacks thought and maturity. It is not what we are looking for.

Dale: There is no art development and it basically reads like a rather puerile joke.

Tara: You are obviously a 13 year old drama queen…Grow up little girl.

Mack: Several of us discussed your design and did not like it. Not everyone likes what I make. It is not personal.

Mike: You need to get used to the fact that not everyone is going to like your work and move on.

Robbie: That is the best design I have ever seen. I love Elvis. You are my winner.

R,

Mister Dorian James

Art Director Extraordinaire

Credit Recovery Associates

The staff is upset with valid reason…except for Robbie. He is smiling away, taking calls and collecting his Form 4s from all the bonuses he gets from not accepting less than double what the debtors can afford to pay. Robbie is grinning ear to ear and cannot wait to rub his trophy in to the entire staff after he receives it.

Robbie continues to successfully make one call after another, when he gets a wide-eyed visitor.

“Hey there, fella!” an upright, confident Dorian James chants to Robbie as he is very happy to see him.

“Oh hey man! Thanks for picking me! Better than picking my nose ya know.”

Awkward silence ensues.

“That was a joke, ya know,” Robbie says nervously.

“Oh sweetheart, I am here to present you with your award.”

“Thanks, man!” Robbie says as he accepts his tiny, gold-tinted trophy.

“Oh, thank you honey. Not a problem at ALL! Hey Robbie, what ya doin’ after work? I think ya kinda cute and wanna take my number one man to dinner!”

“Wait, what?” a confused Robbie asks.

“Yeah cutie! I love your Elvis hair and your clothes! Let’s go out and do karaoke or something!”

“No way man. I quit!” An infuriated Robbie storms off the job and out the building.

Dorian feels crushed by the rejection.

“How does it feel to get rejected, huh Dorian?”

“Yeah you little reject! Now start walking in our shoes.” Sybil says to a beleaguered Dorian.

The staff all begin to laugh at Dorian and make their ways home. It is the end of a long, scary, stressful workday.

Happy Halloween!

Konrad Cooks the Books

“Get back in the kitchen, this pot is about to boil over!” Madeline Topolla-Teirant calls out to her husband, Konrad who is reading the CRASS company ledger in the bathoom.

Kon washes his hands, flicks the water on the floor (a trick he learned from Teirant Cinema-13 clerk Damien Hurlbutt) and struts into the kitchen. He sets the ledger atop a shelf in the cupboard.

“Madeline, I can do this myself. No need to tell me how do cook. Go on and watch the kiddos.” Konrad beckons Madeline to leave the room.

Konrad stirs the pot of his turkey soup. He made sure to put in loads of veggies because they cost less than turkey. Konrad hears a loud banshee-esque squeal come from the living room and dashes out.

“Bratley? What are you doing?” Konrad walks over to him.

“Waaaaaaaaaah! I want my toys!”

Konrad yells at Bratley because he has little patience for children. He usually leaves the parenting to his wife Madeline because he would rather make money. Meanwhile chaos unfolds in the kitchen.

Chanel # 5 and * climb up the kitchen counters, tear up the CRASS ledger into confetti and put it into the soup like it is special spices. They hear their daddy coming so the close the book back up and place it back on the cupboard shelf so they do not get in trouble.

“I told you kids not to play on the kitchen counters! Now go do your homework or you are going to bed without any dinner!”

Kon begins stirring the pot.

The next morning, all of CRASS is sent a company email to announce the new CRASS initiave:

From: Teirant, Konrad (konteirant@crass-llc.con)

To: CRASS, LLC (all-crass-l@crass-ll.con)

Subject: Food for everyone!

Dear CRASS employees:

It is with great pleasure I announce the newest CRASS publicity initiave: Triple down on each call to raise money for the new CRASS Stage! If we raise enough money to name the Kankakee Senior Center stage after us, we can help promote CRASS, LLC as a community leader.

To help celebrate our new publicity effort, I brought in turkey soup, enough for everybody this time! Enjoy! Be sure to only log off using your designated 15 minute and 30 minute breaks to enjoy my cooking.

Most importantly, remember to ask each debtor for three times what they can afford to pay! Submit a Form 5 for each triple down. Each bonus will go toward the stage naming instead of your paycheck these next two weeks.

Happy Monday!

Konrad Teirant

“Want some soup?” Dale asks Sybil. “I’ll spoon feed it to you,” a hopeful Dale says with a grin.

“Go away, Dale. I have work to do,” Sybil snarks as she downs a dog biscuit.

Dale slurps his soup at his desk before he logs onto the autodialer.

Mikey Philps helps himself to two bowls while he watches the collectors stress out over asking for three times what the debtors can afford.

“Why aren’t these folks making production?” a stern Tara Bull asks Sybil Kibble as Tara sips some greasy turkey soup.

“I will keep on pushing for those Triple Downs and Form 5s.” Sybil tells a beleagueured Tara.

Kon sits in his office surfing Fakebook Flat-Earth pages as well as the Dark Web. He feels his belly begin to rumble. “Must be a quake of this flat planet,” Kon says to himself.

A line forms outside the CRASS washrooms. Tara Bull joins the queue. “Why are people taking so long?” Tara mumbles under her breath.

A stench wafts from the mens’ room. Konrad emerges.

“Did I do that?” Kon slyly asks. The lined-up employees giggle.

Mikey Philips is called over to fix the toilet Kon clogged.

Since Kon’s idea failed miserably, he took the rest of his greasy, tained turkey soup to Teirant Cinema-13 to “treat” his emplyees there.

“Ooooh, thank ya boss! Well actually, I just constipated myself by eating six antacids in a row so I do not have to use the toitie all night!” an excited Damien Hurlbutt tells Kon.

“Thanks for the information. Enjoy and get to work.”

Damien drinks the soup right down.

“Ahhhhh.”

“Puttt” goes Damien’s butt.

“Pardon me. Pheeeeeww!”

Damien’s stomach begins to grumble, really grumble.

Konrad looks for Damien and he is not at the ticket counter.

“Where are you Damien? People are lining up and they need to buy their tickets. Imma gon fire you if you do not come back!”

A stench wafts from the men’s room.

“Nevermind…”

Smokey Gets Smoked

“Man, I am bored.” Smokey says aloud as she smokes in bed. Smokey has been an unhappy lot, unemployed from her CRASS debt collecting job. Smokey hears a loud pound on the door. She has been expecting a package, so she answers.

“Kankakee County Sherriff. Is this Mrs. Ashe?”

“Yes. Who dis?”

“I am here to serve you with this eviction notice. I need you to sign—“

“Eviction? Why am I being evicted?”

“Ma’am, I am only here to provide document service. I need you to direct questions to your landlord. Sign here please.”

“I aint signin’ nuttin’!” Smokey screams.”

“Then I will have to report you to the Kankakee County Judge who may issue a bench warrant for your court appearance. Make it easy, sign that you got the papers and we can avoid all that.”

“Fine.” Smokey grabs the papers and scrawls a barely legible signature.

Smokey and the officer part ways.

Smokey is furious and at the same time feeling terrified she will be forever homeless. She has not been able to find a job because nobody wants to hire her.

Smokey calls her landlord and they do not answer. Smokey opens up the packet left for her:

“Your building is being condemned by the Kankakee County Codes Department due to the entire nonsmoking facility having been permanently tainted with cigarette smoke. One resident has been smoking in her unit, despite multiple warnings and it has made several residents severely ill. Please contact Kankakee County Department of Social Services if you need assistance with housing placement.”

“So now I am homeless, just because they decided to close the entire building? Why they do that to me? Them fools, kicking me out. Now I am going to be homeless. They have no sympathy for me at all,” Smokey says to herself.

Smokey puts out her butt and drives down to Wally Mart. It is July 4th and it is one of the few stores open on Independence Day.

“Ma’am, smoking is not allowed in the store.” Smokey gives the clerk a dirty look and walks out, leaving her cart full of merchandise behind for someone else to deal with.

Smokey spies a small structure off in the distance.

“What is this? Smoke Shack? I need to check this out.” Smokey says to herself.

Smokey heads to the white tent, decked out in signs marked “TNT”, “M80s” and “Roman Candles”.

Moments later, all of Kankakee lights up up in colors of red, white and blue. The glow can be seen for miles, making children and kids of heart grin from ear to ear, from the loud pops and sizzles.

Happy 4th of July, everyone!

But who will clean up the chunks?