“The Lifft driver you get sure makes a difference. It was like getting upgraded from Undead Greg Schneissder to Gothic Diana Ross!” Sybil Kibble tells her ma JoAnn “JK” Kibble as she sets down her phone.

“The LeBaron done broke down again? Why don’t you trade that thing in?”

“I’d probably have to pay THEM to take it off my hands.”

Sybil exits the house, waving to her mom whose bum is parked square in front of the television in her basement apartment, decorated with her school-bus parts collection. Sybil cares naught about her mother’s decor, as long as her rent check made out to Sybil does not bounce she’s cool. 

The blonde, bespectacled 60-something collections supervisor goes to rage mow, she takes pride in having the greenest lawn in Kankakee. Two angry birds circle above her, arguing as they do donuts in the sky, taking a massive dump on Sybil’s head before she has a chance to cut the grass.

“It’s stalking season!” shapeshifting humanoid vulture says to her wingding sister Sonya, and then they fly over to a certain house in Manteno.

“An absolutely epic weekend in Bradley. Had the ENORMOUS pleasure of reading a terrifically colorful role in a nearly sold-out benefit reading of dear old friend JB’s wonderful play, HOW TO STEAL TURDS, along with a stellar cast (including BRILLIANT CARLA MORAN as my mom) and many visits to the ER for my rear with friends from far and near. Wow. Here’s to—“

“Hi daring!” Carla calls out to her daughter loudly bragging about lawd-only-knows-what to her drunken, sleeping husband Peppi, empty jug marked “XXX” just beyond the reach of his flopped out arm.

“Join me at Kankakee’s Best Low-Budget Apartments TONIGHT, 5:30-10pm!  I’m donating 10 percent of what I make tonight to The Flat Earth Society.”

“No thanks, honey. Not now. Did you wax your chin yet?”

“I’ll go! I wanna ring the bell! I wanna ring the bell! Can I ring the bell?”

“Of course Aunt Sonya. Come on over to my charity auction down at Kankakee’s Best and hear me play kazoo covers of OKLAHOMA!”

“How dawg! Ooooooooooh!” Sonya sings, poorly.

“AND, I am donating an autographed picture of ME to the charity auction!”

“Ooooooooooh!”

“Does this lipstick make my beak look big?” Carla’s bird-brain wants to know. “Just be honest.”

“Maybe they will auction off something to help you with your Mamma McRageFace. Come on DOWN! We’ll have a BLASSSST,” Bernadette exclaims with her tongue hanging out her mouth wide open as if to catch a fly. Then she farts.

JB the nighborhood turd burglar and his lover Bernadette Cacca are swinging their interdigital clasp as they walk down the aisles of Big Deal electronics store. 

“I miss the days when I could just type “format see colon” to wipe out a store’s computer.”

“You can format my colon any day, Justin,”

“That’s Jay.”

“Let’s go find some crap to get into,” Bern says to JB, one of many tools she has on her side.

CRASS Chief Cooker of Books, multiplex owner and Emcee of Moronic Half Assets (MHA) Konrad Teirant begins the bidding for the charity auction. Of course, bog witch Bernadette Cacca had to show up, as she will do anything to look good and cover up her real-life lack of empathy.

“What is that, a TV?” a citizen asks Emcee Konrad.

“Noooo, that’s a signed photo of Bernadette Cacca!”

“Who?”

“I signed it myself!” Mrs. Cacca brags.

“I’m sure you did. Now don’t panic, don’t be alarmed. This here car alarm was done been donated by Mr. Brandon Dixon, owner of Brandon’s Imbecile Machines! Let’s go! Get those bids in!”

“Now here’s a steaming pile of something, this mystery bag was donated by JB!”

Bernadette’s nose wiggles with interest.

“And here, how clever! A bottle of dehydrated water donated by Mr. Wally Green himself! I bet it has no calories!”

Awkward silence fills the room. Very awkward.

“What is this? I bet it’s essential, that’s right a bottle of essential snake oil donated by the Krabalsky sisters Doris and Leona!”

“And last, but not least, two tickets to see a matinee of your choice here at Teirant Cinema-13! Remember this goes to a really good cause! The big bags you help raise will help the manager of Kankakee’s Best Low-Budget Apartments get a raise!” Emcee Konrad points over to his wife and dumpster-clown, Madeline “Madwoman” Topolla-Teirant.

“I mean you got to have solid leadership, and she is really solid! Yuk Yuk Yuk.”

The seven-foot, 350 pound clown is not impressed.

Bernadette begins to sing and play accordion.

Sybil Kibble has been hanging out at a certain coffeehouse on the regular. A month or two ago she had overseen shift manager Carla Rachella Amanda Medici Moran verbally abusing her staff, making fun of them for spilling drinks so she decided to leave a review:

“I spoke to the staff and told them I have their back and that if she does it again, everybody should get together and ask Carla how would she feel if she spilled a drink and we all made fun of her.

A couple of weeks ago I saw Carla put her hands on a staff member while she was using negative humor making fun of them. I let the staff know that I had their back but this time this woman seem to be more aware of by standing up for them because she waited on me right afterwards. 

Well tonight it happened again. I wanted to complain about it but Carla was the only one on staff who was in charge. Oh my God all she did was argue with me.  She said she would hand my comments to Kankakee Police and I would be prosecuted for ‘defrimation of character.’ Nobody should abuse their staff like that. Don’t go there if Carla is working, she’s the shapeshifting vulture with the blonde hair.”

Konrad Teirant tries his best to hustle the donated hunks of junk.

“Last chance to bid on this lovely bottle of dehydrated water, generously donated by Mr. Wally Green himself! Did you know that he was born in Deerfield? It’s their loss because Kankakee is lucky to have him!”

More awkward silence fills the room.

“And sold, to absolutely nobody because nobody bid. Last we have this mystery bag, what is this? If I said then it would not be a secret right? Yuk yuk yuk. I’ll start the bidding at ten dollars. Just ten smackeroos will get you this brown bag of fun!” 

Bernadette raises her hand

“Ooh we’ve got ten, now who will do twenty?”

Undead Greg Schneissder awkwardly hoists his arm.

“Twenty, now who will do forty?”

“ME, PICK ME!”

Okay, 40 from the young lady in the “Peppi’s Portapotties” shirt.

The bidding goes back and forth.

“Two thousand dollars to Greg. Going once, going twice…sold!”

Bernadette raises her arm again.

“It’s too late. Sold to the zombie dude. Now get this thing outta here.”

Undead Greg takes the bag of poo and chows it down. He eats turds to stay alive instead of brains.

“Now pay the lady $2000.”

“Buurrrp.”

Shapeshifting humanoid vulture Carla Moran is busy filling out an order form for Quack Valley Cosmetics, using her beak and blood from a recent carrion meal.

“Hey, you’re getting blood all over it. You just wasted a perfectly good order form, now you should be ashamed of yourself,” Carla’s bird of a feather and fellow shapeshifting vulture Sonya guilt-trips her sister.

“Nevermind!” Carla exclaims with the wrath of Satan. She stirs up a hornets’ nest which attracts the local murder of crows.

Sybil Kibble stops on Kant Street to text, right out front the Cacca homestead where mother Carla and aunt Sonya are bickering on the lawn like three-year-old children.

The massive flock of crows poop all over Carla and Sonya as they caw, caw, caw.

“Now look what you done!”

“Look what you done!”

“I gotta go to work tonight and now I have to shower all over again.”

Sybil Kibble laughs her bum off watching the bird-brains argue who is the biggest moron, then she drives away in her newly-repaired LeBaron giggling and feeling giddy that the nasty coffeehouse supervisor finally got some crap handed to her, errr, dumped all over her.

“You spilled poop all over your shirt! Now go clean that up!” Sybil shouts out the window and then drives away to her home in Kankakee, looking forward to that rage-mow.