Kankakee bill-collector and dog-chow diner Sybil Katrina Kibble had left her lawn sprinkler spit-spit-spitting, too lazy to care about water conservation, while she drove her Chrysler LeBaron all the way to Chillicothe to buy herself a sit-down lawnmower right before the race. Sybil insisted on winning the Annual Lawnmower Race.
Sadly, silly-billy Sybil lost the lawnmower race because she was too loopy from inhaling helium.
Too lazy to drive, Sybil wished to hang glide back home to Kankakee. However, she could not fly because she was too scared. This idea never got off the ground.
Meanwhile, Sybil’s spit machine went awry, flooding her entire lawn and that of neighbor Kitty Bee’s too!
Adding insult to injury, Sybil then she got chased by a swarm of angry kitties and bees! Poor Sybil.
She then left compete in Fire Truck racing with her Ma JoAnn! Ooh, what fun!!!
Junk email broker, failed film student and nextdoor sociopath Pat Oswald Splatt ventured over to the Kankakee County Spam convention with high hopes to rake in new customers to rip off bombarding their inboxes with unsolicited commercial crap for fun and profits.
Sadly, Pat was disappointed to instead find Damien Hurlbutt, Sybil Kibble and her mom JK along along with people actually having fun celebrating canned lunchmeat.
Maybe the self-proclaimed master-marketer should have read the event advertisement more carefully.
Tara Bull, Accounts Receivable Manager at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) in Kankakee, IL holds a strategy meeting with the chief cooker of books, Konrad “Big Bag” Teirant and Chief Executive Officer Mack E. Avelli. Tara thinks CRASS can increase their bottom line by using their synergetic mindset to implement the new increased production metrics.
“By making our staff work harder for the same pay, we will move the goalposts,” Tara insists.
Ms. Bull is Sybil Kibble’s supervisor. She asks her Lead Collections Representative Sybil Kibble how her team would best achieve those metrics. “My double-down tactic always works,” Sybil advises her superior as she munches on dog biscuits. “By telling our debtors to pay twice as much as they can afford, they will always pay more.”
“Get ‘er done” Ms. Tara Bull tells Sybil. “I do not care how it gets done. The ends justify the means.” A hovering Mack. E. Avelli flashes an evil grin and a thumbs-up gesture.
Sybil and her team spend the eight hour work day making the calls, even skipping breaks at Tara’s insistence. Dale none too happy, runs in place at his cubicle to kill the stress, checking his heart rate on his beeping wristwatch. Mikey does his usual cleaning, making the toilets clean and sparkly at his own pace. However, something does not get done.
“Sybil! Get over here now!”
Sybil hangs up on her angry caller and works her way over to Ms. Bull’s office.
“Yes?”
“You all are not making the metrics!” growls a livid Tara Bull as she chucks a pile of papers at Sybil. “Bring in the bucks or I will fire you all!”
Dale decides to try a different approach. He offers payment plans, and goes around Sybil and Ms. Bull’s hard rules. He finds his stress levels decrease as he is able to help his customers pay their bills and empathizes with them at the same time, as Dale was once down and out himself.
Sybil tries her might and cannot not double down to make her double bonus/Form 4 and metrics. She thinks to herself that if she could go home and work, she could call people around suppertime and reach more people. After all, it works for telemarketers, right?
Sybil drives her white Chrysler LeBaron home, logs into her computer and starts making calls. Not long after 5:30 PM, Sybil hears a knock at the door.
“Who can this be, dag-nammit?” Sybil thinks to herself.
Sybil opens the front door to her rather oversized house. “Hi Sybil. I am sorry to bother you. My cat Holly is missing and I am terrified. Have you–“
“Your cat is not here, Kitty, go away,” barks Sybil as she goes back to her typing and calling.
As Kitty Bee searches high and low for her dearest Holly-Cotton all over Kankakee and Bradley, Sybil’s Form 4s pile up. “I am winning! I am getting my Form 4’s! Gimme my Form 4’s!”
Sybil is so excited to collect all that money and make bonuses as a result via the Form 4 bonus and hopefully please her boss, Ms. Tara Bull.
“Man, I gotta pinch a loaf,” Sybil says aloud as she gets up, after her last debtor hangs up on her.
Meanwhile, a certain Miss Holly-Cotton, who has been hiding out in Sybil’s rather large house, needs a place to go herself. She hops up on Sybil’s messy desk and starts sniffing around. She locates a certain pile of papers and jumps on top of it, highlighting the entire stack.
Sybil exits the washroom after dropping off some kids at the pool. She immediately spots Kitty’s cat Holly on top of what used to be a pile of Form 4’s.
“Oh my gawd, get the heck out of here you little brat-cat!” Sybil shouts at poor Miss Holly-Cotton as if she had done something wrong.
Holly gladly exits the house of Sybil and enters the loving arms of Ms. Kitty, who is waiting outside after having searched all Kankakee County for her long lost fur-baby. Meanwhile, Sybil returns to a useless pile of forms, formerly known as Four. She has lost out on her bonus.
Sybil doubles down on her nightly dish of comfort food, a bowl of Alpo. Yum!
Gothic Diana Ross, lead singer of the Manteno band The Midnight Supremes, permanently yeeted her stalker Robbie Hurlbutt from her concerts. Since the self-proclaimed Number One Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt cannot creep his crush in person – or summon her using a Luigi Board) – he kisses her poster so hard slobber wets through the image of his wishful thinking, causing it to flop down onto his bedroom carpet.
CRASS Debt Collector Dale Davis is all by his lonesome in his Kankakee apartment, wishing his boss Sybil Kibble would come there to kiss him, so they could get married and make dollars and cents together.
Art student, con-job and sociopath Pat Splatt is proud of his entourage of fake identities, many starting with “Al” for Alias. His pretend friends go online to bother marginalized groups, pretending he is one of them so he can try and make them feel excluded via cultural gatekeeping. Too bad Pat has so much time on his hands.
“He can come and do my laundry, fold it and put it away if he’s that bored!”
Bourbonnais cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narc-a-doodle Damien Hurlbutt does the fart dance when he goes to rip one. The only thing he loves more than his hoard is the smell of his own gas blasts.
Kankakee pharmacy clerk, vulnerable narcissist and Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt, his equally narcissistic brother Damien and con-job roommate Andy Skandees join together for one rotten number. Robbie’s Youtube clones could not make it. Don’t close the washroom door.
MoronicArts 
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