Coming soon to Wally Green’s: The Wallyt! This wallet made specially by the man himself Wally Green, has a kick to it! It will kick out your stuff randomly by having a party in your purse or your pants!
All your ID cards, credit cards and cash money will explode inside your purse, forcing you to play 52 pickup!
Buy one get one half off but never free. The Wallyt only comes in green. (Sorry to red yellow, pink, blue, purple, gray, brown, and black!)
Bernadette Cacca performs her heart out of her kazoo and accordion covers of songs like “My Butt Goes Boom” and “My Fart Will Go On.” Despite her best efforts, her butt-trumpet solo does not qualify her for a spot on stage at Kankakee County’s Talent Show.
“I had sung a cover of ‘Into The On-Hold Abyss’ at CRASS Idol and got NOs from all three judges after four seconds. I was good,” Sybil Kibble replies to the drama unfolding all over the talent show’s Fakebook page.
Having the voice of an angel and the heart of the devil, Bernadette is jealous that her neighbors Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes got a spot, the entramanure and communal narcissist known for her charity piano bar recitals did not. Sucks to be her!
Bernadette calls upon her Poopy Groupies to raise a stink.
Carla Rachella Amanda Medici Moran works as a sterile supply technician at an Indiana hospital, eating all the gross stuff off the medical equipment before it goes into the autoclave. She flies into her home, missing the roof again, after visiting one of her 10-plus “scadiate” nests around Albion as she says.
“Ana walks by me three times, that’s three times. Not once, not ONCE did she say hi!” Carla gossips to her sister Sonya.
Butthurt because people are not returning her phone calls, the evil shapeshifting humanoid vulture takes to the road to ruffle some feathers, since her wings are tired.
Carla Moran takes Sonya Moran’s parking spot. The residents of Prairieland Country Club Apartments For the Disabled start squawking about it while Carla is out stalking again, saying “That’s Sonya’s spot. She’s the manager. Don’t take it.”
Carla snaps, “Sonya’s gone for the day.”
”If she was here, she would be pretty grumpy at you.”
“I will just be a minute.” Carla takes out her smell phone and texts every person in her log. Five minutes later, nobody replies so she re-sends them. Everything’s an emergency to her, so she speeds off to Illinois like an ambulance rushing to the scene of an accident.
Carla peels into the Caccas’ Manteno driveway thinking she’s a street racer. The apple does not fall far from the tree.
“Take these sacks, help your mother,” Carla says to her daughter Bernadette Moran Cacca.
“I’m not an octopus!”
“Here, let me grab them” Sonya says with a half-smile as she grabs the eight grocery sacks with her massive, pointy beak and sets them inside the Manteno Optimal Club.
Sonya Marie Smith Moran files a $4 million lawsuit in Kankakee County court against the Talent Committee, plots to take over the city and fire the current mayor since she’s still butthurt that she lost the mayoral race in Albion, Indiana. Her goal is to bankrupt the city and ruin the lives and reputations for everyone who wins the talent show. “Winning is everything!” she exclaims after she uploads the paperwork.
Bernadette rehearses on the stage at the banquet hall inside the Optimal Club. People have yet to show, including her mother and aunt out rounding up robins, vultures and cuckoos to watch their wonderful lil bog witch sing at their charity event, hoping to change the mind of the Kankakee County Talent Committee and everyone else who contributes to planning the annual County Fair.
Today, people will not give an inch. On the way to Dr. Eddie Dixon’s office, Sybil Kibble has to stop and get labs drawn, no biggie. She stops and eats her Alpo lunch. Yum!
What is this water on her seat? The floor?
Darnit, that screwy air-tight water bottle she bought from Wally Green’s took a whizz all over her bag, her phone, her masks. “Thanks, Wally!” Sybil exclaims.
After stopping for coffee, the covfefe continues over at Dr. Dixon’s.
Sybil asks receptionist Pris Dixon for a mask, she barks “we don’t give out masks here anymore,” while calling back to Dr. Dixon to try and cancel.
Thankfully a kind stranger gives her an extra one; apparently Pris had never ruined a single mask, ever. I bet she had never spilled water before and assumes other people do it on purpose.
Sybil sits down in the crowded waiting room amongst a group of mostly unmasked patients. Maybe one or two folks actually wore theirs. She sees CRASS co-worker Mikey Dixon get called in, along with Gothic Diana Ross. Eventually she gets called in and is told — guess what — her tests came back normal.
On the way home, it begins to pour. Sirens wail like a banshee. “Man, I wish they would turn the volume down on these fart-machines!” Sybil Kibble thinks out loud.
Sybil pulls over near the Manteno Optimal Club to let the fire engines and cop cars pass. Carla and Sonya Moran had smashed their sedan into a telephone pole out front. Rubberneckers look at the accident and stare, wondering what had happened.
“We flew over here to try and bring groupies Peppi, Greg and JB to YOUR show and look what YOU done!” Carla and Sonya bark at Bernadette, the Manteno Wonder.
“Are these sirens just for me! Aww boys, you shouldn’t have!” Bernadette exclaims with glee at the loud, farty horns and farts along to the noise while shaking her booty as if nobody was watching. She’s not too bright.
Sybil films the whole fracas and laughs, excited to show her mother JoAnn and maybe post to Kankakee social media. Maybe.
Kankakee Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt bought a purple clown car to impress the ladies. He sure thinks it has street appeal. What do you think?
Sybil joins her mom JoAnn “JK” Kibble to watch her favorite show, the Linksabbiegen 500.
“I have been working for 666 weeks now. Can I get a raise?” Hell’s intake clerk Lucy Furr asks her boss, Satan.
“No.”
“I work harder than anybody here. I do 80 per cent of the work. I can run circles around the other damned people.”
“We provide you shelter with free heat. That is sufficient.”
“How much longer do I have to work? I am gonna quit if you don’t give me a raise.”
“You are here for all of eternity. According to your records, you had been assigned here because you had behaved like a bully your entire life. You were harassing an autistic person on their trip to Italy, tag teaming with your cousin Terry. And you had continued to bully that same person, plus scores of others at the cancer center where you had worked the check-out desk.”
“I don’t care. Get me outta here.”
“That’s not my decision. I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them. Now get back to work, or I will order you to the jagged rocks and bubbling excrement room,” Satan orders his subordinate Lucy.
After Kitty Bee had been waiting 45 minutes to see Kankakee physician and father of imbecile-machine salesman Brandon, Dr. Eddie Dixon finally makes his way into the exam room.
“I only have time for one problem per visit. What is going on with your weight? I see you gained ten pounds.”
“Medication side effects?” Kitty replies.
“No, you see Kitty, a pill has no calories, it cannot make you gain weight.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday.” Kitty replies.
Dr. Dixon scrolls through Kitty’s patient record on his laptop computer.
“Why are you on so many medications, Kitty?”
“Because you PUT me on them, you moron!”
Gothic Diana Ross, leader of the Manteno-based cover group The Midnight Supremes, is getting tired of her next-door neighbor Bernadette Cacca peeling out of her driveway, blasting her accordion, and stinking up the air by burning poopies. Diana wants to have a word with Bernadette, who is polishing her wall-mounted Turd Machine, and walks over after she finishes making her poo-shooter shine.
“You have a very punchable face.” Gothic Diana Ross tells Bernadette.
“I have a beautiful face? Aww, thanks. I get that a lot.”
“A punchable face you dipstick. Come here, I’ll give you a knuckle sandwich.”
“Thanks! I love to eat!” a wide-eyed Bernadette exclaims with glee, mouth hanging open until she gets punched by Miss Ross.
Lucy Furr, who had bullied an autistic student on their trip to Italy, is tired of working as Hell’s in-processing clerk. “Just sign the register” Lucy tells the newly damned who try and take over. All she wants to do is hand them pamphlets, and the regulations manual. “I wish I could clone myself” the adult bully says at her post. Lucy gets her wish.
Have fun!
Back in 1990, the Hurlbutts posed for a family photo. N. Ron shied away from the camera and slid into the shadows, meanwhile the elder child Damien pranked his brother Robbie. Matriarch Pearl Jo “PJ” stared off into the camera, and of course complained to the studio manager about the prints when she got them. They put the fun in DysFUNction.
Poor Dale. They closed the men’s washrooms at Cinema-13 in Bourbonnais, and he has to go realllly badly after drinking all that overpriced pop. After 20 minutes waiting outside the only family stall, he begins to grumble: “What did they do, fall in?”
Tiny twin sister act The Favorites continue talking amongst themselves, flushing repeatedly to make it sound like they need to use the facilities for something other than wasting the time of the pained folks waiting outside in line, Dale’s pants dropping from his legs wiggling. Those little turds.
MoronicArts 
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