Sybil Auctions Herself Off

“La di da di daaaaa…” Sybil sings poorly as she logs off the autodialer. She has racked up yet another commission and is in a great mood. “Are you going to help out in the Guys N Gals auction, Sybil?” Clio asks as she hands Ms. Kibble a flyer.

“What’s that about, Clio?” Sybil asks.

“Oh, our Glee Committee came up with it to benefit the Kankakee School District Square Dancing Club. We auction off some of our employees to each other. It is for a great cause. Read the flyer.”

“Hot dog! I’ll be there! Sign me up! Can I go first?” Sybil squeaks.

“We will see. It starts today at 3:30. Employees who volunteer get an hour off,” Clio tells Sybil.

Sybil tosses aside the flyer and pours herself a bowl of dog food for lunch.

A little before 3:30 PM, the CRASS conference room begins to fill. CRASS CEO Mack E. Avelli walks over to the podium and adjusts the microphone.

“Today marks the first annual Guys N Gals auction here at CRASS. Each one of you has an 8.5 by 11 inch piece of card stock with a number printed on one side. When our Accounting Manager, Konrad Teirant calls out a bid, you interested bidders hold up your card. Our first person up for bid is the ever enthusiastic Ms. Sybil Kibble!”

Sybil silently hopes to herself that the ever so suave Dorian wins her.

“Who would like to bid first? Can I get $25?”

The ever so slovenly Dale Davis holds up his card.

Sybil dies a bit inside.

“Can we get $50?”

Mikey Philips from Maintenance holds up his card.

Sybil frowns a bit more.

“Good, we have a couple bids. Let’s get a bidding war going. This is for a great cause. Kankakee Schools, guys. Let’s get $100.00.”

Dale holds up his bid card.

“Great. Can we get “$200?”

Mikey holds up his number.

“How about $400?”

Awkward silence passes for a few seconds.

“$400 going once.”

Sybil gets really nervous, thinking she will have to go home with Mikey. Sybil bites her nails.

“$400 going twice.”

Sybil’s anxiety turns to anger. This totally did not turn out the way she expected. Sybil starts visibly shaking.

“Aaaaand—“

Dorian’s card goes up.

“Great! We have $800.00 now.”

Sybil’s heart beats with excitement. Maybe she will get her date with Dorian at last! Now he has to keep the highest bid!

“$800 going once.”

A smirk begins to form across Dorian’s face.

“$800 going twice.”

Dorian’s smirk widens.

“SOLD!”

“One service worker won by Dorian James! Now Sybil, I am certain you will enjoy doing everything Dorian tells you. Have fun!”

“What? SER-vice? I thought this was a date auction!” Sybil screams.

“This is a service auction, and it is for a great cause, run by the Guys N Gals Glee Club. Now you guys go have fun!” Mr. Avelli tells Sybil.

“I need you to clean my monitor, rearrange my filing system and scrub my fish tank. I am going to keep you busy!” Dorian tells a disappointed Sybil as the two work their way out the door.

Sybil Can’t Fly.

It’s that time again.

Kankakee bill collector and dog-food connoisseur Sybil is so excited for the annual Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Retreat in Hoboken, New Jersey, she can almost wet herself. However, she cannot fly. She does not want to fly, actually. It is not that she is afraid to fly; she just WON’T.

“I would rather take the train. That is the way to travel.” Miss Kibble barks to Mack E. Avelli, CRASS Chief.

“Do what you want. It will save the company money,” replies Mr. Avelli.

“Oh, I cannot wait! This is going to be so fun!” Sybil bursts out loud, as she runs around the office with great excitement. “I wonder what city I will see first? “Gary? Cleveland? DeMoranville? This is going to be AWE-some!” Sybil brags, while the rest of the office shake their collective heads, and sigh.

Sybil has been on her train for 14 hours. She has not slept all night. The woman behind her has been snoring and her toddler has been wailing like a banshee for the past hour.

An assistant conductor walks by. “Excuse me, what time will we be to Hoboken?”

“This train does not go to Hoboken. Your ticket says Newark.”

“What time, then?” snaps Sybil.

“We are running five hours behind.”

The train eventually pulls into Newark, after driving backward through a muddy lake, slowing for eight freight trains and stopping for six.

Sybil misses her shindig by two hours and takes the lonely train home, and her bragging rights with her.


This post brought to you by Aeroplane and the letters AA.

New CRASS IT Guy Does Not Give a Crap

It was a beautiful morning for 31 year old Tyrell Fowler of Kankakee. He was about to start his new job with Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS), LLC, his first “real” job since graduating college ten years ago. He was happy to finally have his own place so he did not have to listen to his mother complaining about him living in her basement and not having a job. He has a history of getting fired over his hostile attitude and his unwillingness to take direction, especially from women.

Tyrell chewed eight antacid pills, after pouring them into his mouth like a beer. Tyrell intentionally constipates himself every morning because he has an extreme aversion to wiping. He showers after each dump.

“That was one good breakfast burrito!” Tyrell says to himself. He logs off The Red Pill subreddit, gets into his overly lifted, full-ton truck and heads to his first day as a CRASS Information Technology contractor.

“This will be such an easy job,” Tyrell thought to himself, “Man, CRASS must be the easiest place to work in the world. Anyone can get a job there. Even I can.” Tyrell laughs audibly. He pulls into the CRASS parking lot and signs in.

After being trained as the newest CRASS IT guy, Tyrell cannot wait to start installing the company’s new computers.

“Are you Miss Kiblee?” Tyrell asks.

“It’s Kibble.” Sybil sighs.

“Like the dog food?”

“Okay, you are here with my new computer and your phone is playing really loud music. Can you turn it down?” Sybil asks.

“No, I need it to work.” Tyrell says sternly, thinking he is the boss.

“Look around. See what we do here? We talk on the phone all day to collect debts. That is how we bring in money. We need it quiet here.”

Tyrell turns his phone down a few notches.

“Okay you are here with my new computer, did you bring the new printer too?” Sybil asks Tyrell.

“No, that’s not on the work order. You will have to call Purchasing. I am just a contractor,” Tyrell says and begins to install the computer.

Sybil calls Purchasing and verifies that the printer was indeed ordered. Purchasing asks to speak with Tyrell. Tyrell refuses.

“Tyrell, Purchasing wants to speak with you.” Sybil puts her phone on speaker.

Tyrell reluctantly speaks to Purchasing, who confirms that Sybil was correct. However, Tyrell does not have the printer with him. Meanwhile, the CRASS Chief Information Officer (CIO) calls Tyrell.

“How are the installs going?” the CIO asks Tyrell.

“This lady is terribly rude to me. Do I have to continue to the installation process?”

“This man is lying!” Sybil shouts. “He was rude to me!”

“Here, I will put you on speakerphone” Tyrell says slyly and puts his mobile phone on speaker.

“Hello, this is Sybil. I am Team Lead over here in Collections Management, how are you?

“Just fine, what is going on? the CIO asks.

“Our new recruit is being insubordinate here.” Sybil told the CIO.

“No I am not, she is lying!” Tyrell exclaimed, his belly rumbling now.

“Just get back to work,” the CIO commanded Tyrell.

Tyrell pulls out his cell phone and points it at Sybil. “Sybil I am recording you now.”

Sybil gets out her cell phone. “I am recording you too. I do not consent to being recorded. Turn your phone off.”

Tyrell lies and says his phone is off, however Sybil continues to record Tyrell’s verbal diarrhea as well as the light from his turned over cell phone which she can clearly see. “I gotta run. I am scared. You touched me. I fear for my life. You are hostile. Oh crap, where is the bathroom?”

“I did not touch you. Keep making crap up and I will continue to record it.”

“Quick, Sybil, tell me where the men’s room is! It’s an emergency!”

“That’s not my problem,” Sybil says and laughs. “What’s that smell?” Sybil smirks, looks straight into her phone’s viewfinder, and points it back at Tyrell.

“Argggghhghhhhhhhhh! Crrrrrraaaaaaaaappppp!” Tyrell shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Ppppppppphhhhhhhhhhffffffffffttttttttttt!”

“Now that is something to post online,” Sybil says with a smile.

Needless to say, Tyrell was crap out of a job that day.

Karma comes back to bite.

Song of the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLy2SaSQAtA

And now it is time for a little story about Sybil and friends. – Jen

—-

“Where have you been?” Sybil barked at Linda Stay as she hovered over her desk.

“I had trouble driving in this weather and barely made it in. We got a foot of snow overnight and it took me over an hour to drive 25 miles,” Linda nervously explained as she set her purse and keys down on her cubicle desk.

“Well, I don’t have four-wheel drive and I made it just fine” snipped Sybil as she berated the beleaguered Linda over her five minute tardiness. “I will mark this as a failure on your bi-weekly production report because attendance needs to be at 100%. You will not qualify for your hourly bonus this pay period. This is unacceptable.

Before Linda could react, Sybil snapped “get on the phones.”
At 11:00, everyone could not wait to get off the phones. Yes, it was a dreaded production meeting which mandated the entire corporation’s presence, regardless of position, an award ceremony which invoked memories and emotions of high school assemblies. However, the collectors would do anything to get off the phones, even for an hour.

“I will get straight to the point. We need to increase production,” said Mr. Mack E. Avelli, Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Compliance Officer. The crowd erupted in laughter when Tara Bull ripped one and crapped her pants.

“Did I do that?” asked an embarrassed Ms. Bull.

“We need to get more bullish!” said Mikey as the crowd continued to giggle.

“Silence!” Mr. Avelli shouted and the room went dead, as if you could cut the tension with a knife.

“Since nobody made production, the employee of the month award is going to go to the person who ranked highest on the quality metric. Without further ado, I present this award to Mrs. Linda Stay.”

The crowd cheered and clapped, that is everyone except for Sybil. She went back to her desk and helped herself to a bowl of dog food. Ahhhh, comfort food. She slowly swallowed down every bit, one bite at a time.

Sybil Sells Snake Oil on the Side?

Sybil will do anything to make a buck. Spotting an ad for an MLM company, she gives it a go. “If the girls at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) can sell essential oils, I can do it too, only better!” Sybil tells herself. “There is a sucker born every minute.”

Wanting to outdo the competition, Sybil creates her own oil to sell. “Essential Snake Oil” Sybil dubs her new concoction, and she labels it “made from real snakes.”
What Sybil does not tell plan to tell her potential customers, is that her product contains no snake content at all. It is made from 100% Canola oil.
“I cannot wait to rip people off! With all the money I make, I can buy lots of dog food for dinner! Yum!” Sybil plots in her head.
The following day, Sybil heads to the cheapest grocery store in Bourbannais to get canola oil. Customers looking for the best deal from nearby Bradley and Sybil’s hometown Kankakee look puzzled as a conniving Sybil fills her cart with gallons and gallons of canola.
As Sybil approaches the cashier with her cart, she can barely move, it is so heavy.
Sybil loads her stash onto the conveyor belt, and the clerk immediately gives Sybil the stinkeye. “You are sure buying a lot of oil there, girl! Are you frying up a bunch of fish?” The clerk giggles, unaware of the scheme Sybil is trying to cook up.

“Okay, ma’am, that will be $413.83.”
Sybil gets out her Diamond Shamrock credit card.
A few uncomfortable seconds pass, which seem like hours in Sybil’s mind.
“What is the matter?” gasps Sybil.
“Declined.”
Sybil’s heart sank.
“This cannot be. Run it again!” Sybil snips.
The clerk ran the card two more times.
“Declined.”
“Get me your manager!” Sybil screams.
“I am the store manager and owner.”
“Why was my card declined?” Sybil asks defensively.
“NSF – Insufficient Funds. Pretty bad for a bill collector like you. There was a time I was down and out and you called my house relentlessly, usually at dinner time. I could not afford to make my payments because you doubled the amount you would accept. Now you are broke. What did you need all that oil for any way? Are you you going to oil a snake or something?”
Sybil backs away with her head down and slowly heads out the door, and to her home alone, in Kankakee.