Do It Yourself Mike

CRASS Maintenance Chief and Building Manager Mikey Philips is a real do-it-yourselfer. In charge of security, maintenance, and all building operations, Mike wears many hats (not just fedoras). However, Mike has no problem ordering other people to do his work and often does the bare minimum to satisfy his job description, or less.

“Knock-knock. Hi Mike. It’s Clio from HR.”

“Come.”

“The ladies’ room garbage has been overflowing all day. This is an ongoing, systematic problem. Can you please look into it?”

“Do it yourself,” Mike tells Clio.

“You are in charge of building operations. Can you please look into it?”

“I am busy, do it yourself.”

Clio walks away and Mike picks up a newspaper.

A loud pound is heard on Mike’s door. Mike grumbles and crumples his paper.

“Who goes there?”

“Tara Bull from Accounts Receivable. I need to speak with you.”

Tara opens the door.

“Yes.”

“The vending machines in the breakroom have been busted for two weeks. Get on it.”

“Do it yourself,” Mike tells Ms. Bull.

“What is the status of my request I put in two weeks ago? I sent you three emails.”

“Can you do it? I am busy, got running around to do.”

Tara storms out.

Mike logs onto the DullerImage web site to order some essential snake oils and some dehydrated water, however his credit card is declined. “NSF, why is that?” Mike logs onto his Last Bank of Kankakee account and discovers he was not paid today.

Mike calls up Mr. Mack E. Avelli, CRASS CEO, to complain.

“Yes, hello. I just found out I did not get paid today. It is Friday. Why not?”

“I can pay you but you have to work to get money first. Want a way to earn money? Do it yourself, Mike.”

Revenge is Served

Clio Bersola, best friend of Bourbannais bachelor Damien Hurlbutt’s verbally abused ex-wife, spots his posts in the “Nice Guys Looking For The Finish Line” Men’s Rights Activist (MRA) themed group on Fakebook, under her secret account JK Corona. She messages him just to mess with him, and fake-agrees with him over IM on so many points, stringing him along. They become instant friends, in Damien’s mind only.

Damien swiftly asks Clio out on a date because he is so impressed. Wow, someone like him! They agree to meet up at Ma Barker’s restaurant in Chicago. Little does Damien know what is in store for him.

Damien complains about the entire drive up Route 57, and nearly gets rear-ended getting off 90/94. Clio parks at a friend’s house and takes the train.

The two meet up at Ma Barker’s. Damien is wearing a red feather in the brim of his brand new, black fedora as Clio had instructed.

The place is rather large, decked out in gangster memorabilia, reproduction crime scene evidence, Ma Barker photos and those of her famous outlaw sons.

Clio instantly recognizes Damien, whistling loudly to himself, orange neckbeard aglow.

“There’s my lovely Men’s Rights Activist!”

“M’lady, m’lady!” Damien says to Clio as the two embrace, Damien hugging somewhat tighter than Clio.

The two sit down and chat. Conversations flow rather quickly and Damien rambles on about how he was about to give up on love in a month or two had he not met Clio.

“I was about to tuck my heart away forever, had I not met you. So many women treated me badly, especially my ex-wife Grimace. She is so fat and ugly, eeew. She ate so much fast food and begged me for $50 a day. Fifty dollars! My life is complete now I met you!” Damien gushes to Clio.

Clio shudders a bit inside and then gets excited. “The Time is Now” by Moloko plays in her head.

“I have something I would like to ask you, Damien.”

Clio takes Damien’s hand. It is the first time he has been touched since he and his wife divorced. Damien’s grin widens.

“Why do you feel men should have more rights than women? It is us women who are being oppressed. What is it with you so-called ‘Men’s Rights Activists?’”

Damien snaps his hand away from Clio.

“I was not expecting THAT!” Damien snips.

An awkward silence passes by as Damien coldly glares into Clio’s eyes. Meanwhile, Clio is filled with anticipation.

“You women are awful. Men get kicked in the nuts on TV. You people give us a hard time for this fake thing called mansplaining. Men are always the butt of women’s jokes. We are oppressed all the time and your feminism is the cause! You women are horrible! You are a horrible person! I am going to get you for this!”

Damien gets up from his seat and goes to the couple next to him.

“See this woman next to me? She is an awful person. Stay away from her.”

Damien stomps over to a family across the room.

“See that skinny woman sitting by herself at that table? With the dark brown hair? She is a bad person. Stay away from her.”

Damien huffs, puffs, and sits down by himself with his head planted squarely on the table.

Clio heads for the kitchen, to speak with her godmother, the owner.

“I do not feel safe here. Can you please call the police?”

Damien storms toward the kitchen.

“See that woman there? She is a horrible person. Stay away from her.”

“Find your own way home, Damien.”

Minutes later, the Chicago Police Department hauls away the unwanted person, Mr. Damien Hurlbutt.

Clio meets up with her buddy, the former Mrs. Hurlbutt and they have dinner together, laughing and giggling all night long.

Revenge really is a dish best served cold.