Communal narcissist Damien Hurlbutt harasses his ex wife Lori on the 10 year anniversary of his lame showoff proposal to her, even though she is long gone from his life. Lori left him because of his love fraud and narcissistic abuse.
He downvotes all her Utube videos even though she blocked him all social media, as a glitch still allows blocked users to downvote. Damien clearly needs a hobby.
Detroit’s Rachel Shelley gets into a huge fight with her lover and fellow narcissist Damien. She is tired of hearing him complain about his ex-wife Lori.
Rachel chucks a bunch of Damien’s hoarded crap into the dumpster while he is out at work.
She leaves him for her side piece, Kankakee heroin addict and loser Leon Peeonne. She has had enough.
Damien downvotes Rachel’s and Leon’s videos on Utube while he is sitting behind the counter at work, thinking nobody is looking. In walks his supervisor, Konrad Teirant, theater owner, who suspends Damien for a week.
Damien comes home in the middle of the night after working the late night shift at the theater to discover all the things he loved more than Rachel — toys, children’s coloring books, $35 ornaments, $75 toys, $600 figures — gone. He jiggles his apartment doorknob repeatedly to check for home invaders, nothing. He calls out for Rachel. No reply.
Damien walks past the remaining boxes in his neckbeard nest, mostly empty — save for a few towels, ratty graphic tees and unused pots and pans — and thinks that Rachel has left with all her belongings. Think again.
Damien heads out to the dumpster outside his apartment and dives in, digging for his lost treasures. He throws a few boxes overboard. Damien continues to dig. Meanwhile a sound is heard in the background:
It is game show night at the Autism Center and washed up artist, filmmaker and sociopath Pat Splatt was hoping to pose as an a person on the spectrum so he can bully people there. Little did he know what was in store for him.
Wow, I appreciate you reading my stories and memes. My suggestions how to retort nosey morons has reached an all time high. No, not 420 (smoke ’em if you got ’em), just a crapton of views. I am happy to see people reading my writing. That makes my heart happy. Have a good holiday week, if you celebrate.
PS: If you feel so inclined, I would love if you followed me on Ko-Fi. It is free to join and comment. Tips always appreciated, never expected.
Manteno’s very own communal narcissist Bernadette “Bern” Cacca learned how to impress people in high school by giving classmates rides, starring in plays for charity and volunteering for charity. Did Bernadette care about those people and causes? OF COURSE NOT. She did it all for attention and to clean up her crappy reputation.
Bern’s grades were decent in school, despite her having turned a teacher against an autistic student.
The self-proclaimed Manteno Wonder, Bernadette tried to use her combat acting skills as a wrestler for a few years upon graduating from high school.
One day, after her career as a wrestler did not work out, Bern had an epiphany. Wanting to impress the entire world — which Bern considered her destiny — she decided to enlist in the United States Army.
Bernadette had high hopes for excelling, becoming an officer and meeting George W. Bush. However, her peers did not like her antics.
During her tour of Iraq, Bernadette got punished for demanding better tasting rations, taking more than three minutes in the shower, and refusing to do physical training because she thought she was too good for it.
Bern was placed on poop-burning dooty, kinda like these guys in Afghanistan:
Bernadette loved burning poopies out in the desert so much, she continued to SNAFU everything she touched, so she could get back on the poopy-burner squad.
Bern went AWOL and was eventually discovered swimming in a bog, luring in unsuspecting people to devour, and got dishonorably discharged.
Kankakee bill-collector who loves eating dog-food Sybil Katrina Kibble had gone all the way to Chillicothe to buy herself a sit down model lawnmower because the hardware shop was back-ordered. She left her lawn sprinkler running, too lazy to care about water conservation.
She got to the race, mad as heck because it is a push mower race!
Too lazy to drive, Sybil wished to hang glide back to Chillocothe. 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 Kitty Bee’s too!
Sybil lost the lawnmower race because whe was too loopy from inhaling helium.
And then she got chased by a swarm of angry bees! Woe is Sybil.
Off to compete in Fire Truck racing with her Ma JoAnn! Ooh, what fun!!! See you later!
Brandon Dixon, wannabe ladies’ man and owner of Brandon’s Imbecile Machines, parks his overly lifted and crudely decorated truck in a grocery store parking lot. Since the truck gives him such an ego-boost, and Brandon plain does whatever the heck he wants, he takes up two spaces.
Brandon continues to swipe right on his phone, hoping to introduce a single lady to his compensationmobile. Meanwhile, he hopes his massive truck attracts some attention from “the females” as Brandon calls them.
The sun goes down, and Brandon is still waiting for his first catch. A stern voice is heard from a person approaching him and his vehicle.
“Let’s go, Brandon!”
“Yeah, let’s go Brandon! Vote red all the way!” Brandon replies.
“No, I mean let’s go. Your truck is taking up two parking spaces and the store is closed. Leave or I will have to write you a ticket,” the lady cop expounds.
Needless to say, no matter how much size matters, Brandon’s huge truck impresses not a single soul.
Maybe the would-be-customer is one of The Soggies. I had always wondered what they did after they lost the Cap’n Crunch gig.
Did it ever occur to the customer to buy a box of ice cream and melt it themself?
For demanding a ridiculous refund, I award this Karen or Darren Moron of the Week. Maybe they will make an appearance in the new King Kong film, Karen Kong.
Manteno morons and portable toilet entrepreneurs Peppi and Bernadette Cacca cook the chicken burritos from Hell, so stinky they can be smelled all the way down in Kankakee. “What is this stench? It smells like chicken and dead bodies!” Kankakee denizen Sybil Kibble cries as she takes out the trash at her Kankakee McMansion.
“That’s it, I had enough!” the Caccas’ next door neighbor Trisha Cobb screams as she blasts her Gothic Diana Ross impersonation music. The Gothic Boss Miss Ross starts belting her impressions of “Where Did Our Love Go” and “You Keep Me Hangin On.”
Peppi and Bernadette Cacca’s orange tabby cat Danielle runs out the door as she has dealt enough with Bernadette’s accordion playing and Peppi’s yelling “git” every time she walks into the bathroom, interrupting his daily puking up last night’s booze. As Danielle makes her way over toward Gothic Diana Ross’ house and into her arms, Peppi decides he needs to plot revenge on his neighbor.
The inebriated Peppi turns on the television and falls asleep in his white tank top and black shorts, only to be awoken by Bernadette’s falsetto singing emanating from her bedroom. Peppi starts watching the infomercial featuring Kankakee pharmacy chain owner and inventor Wally Green featuring some type of Rube Goldberg machine.
“With separate compartments for high fructose corn syrup, formaldehyde and turds, the Turd Machine Deluxe will change your life!” the short, bald, heavyset, older gentleman exclaims.
“Now with a crosshairs and scope, you can aim as you please!” Wally continues to babble on.
Wally and Bernadette are sold. They call to order a gross but only 20 were left since they did not call in time, so the Caccas buy them out.
The 20 packages arrive at the Caccas’ Manteno residence. Suspicious, Gothic Diana Ross hatches a plan. The 5’10”, slender, black-haired, medium-skinned beauty in a black dress huddles with her fellow girl-group singers and their new cat Danielle.
One of the Midnight Supremes takes out her body jewelry, dons a brown wig to cover her blood-red extensions and puts on a pantsuit. She drives over to Peppi’s Port-o-Potties to make an inquiry.
“What do you do with the poop after people are done using your port-o-dumps?” the pretend customer asks.
“We burn it”, Peppi replies nonchalantly. “My wife Bernadette lights her farts to start the process.” Bernadette opens up a huge grin, and lets in a fly, loving the attention suddenly drawn to her. Gulp.
The disguised Midnight Supreme exits the business and gags, nearly tossing her cookies.
The next day, it is cloudy and overcast. Bernadette goes into the storage shed to mount one of the modified salad-shooters-which-now-fires-excrement onto the side of her and Peppi’s house.
“Twelve turd machines left. Someone stole eight of them!” Bernadette growls angrily and proceeds to mount not one but four turd machines, including one she aims out her kitchen window directly at Gothic Diana Ross’ slate Victorian house.
The next day, Gothic Diana Ross briefly steps outdoors to check her mail.
“Bang bang, you’re dead, fifty bullets in the head” Bernadette sings as she cranks the turd machine, firing at Diana and missing every shot. Diana makes it inside, unscathed but angry.
Bernadette turns her back and begins cheering, and then heads into her bedroom to record her next corona-concert for charity on her computer.
When Bernadette finishes her voice, piano and accordion recital for attention — as she does not care about the charity —- she cranks up the volume to make sure she hears the cheering reverberate through her bedroom, loud enough to annoy Miss Ross. “Thank you for another performance from the extraordinary Miss Cacca!” the Manteno Optimal Club spokesperson exclaims. “Bernadette is a national treasure. How can you say anything bad about her!” Bernadette’s already swollen head gets even bigger and she switches off her computer.
“Bernadette B-Flat!” an angered Gothic Diana Ross screams out her window.
“You are needed at a job!” Peppi yells into the room and the pair head over to the worksite, drop off their port-o-dumps and leave.
Peppy and Bernadette head back to the construction site to gather their property.
They haul the portable toilets to their house to clean and disinfect. Peppy empties all the crap into a bonfire in their backyard.
Bernadette goes to light a fart to kindle the port-o-potty-poopy-burners. “Wait, hon, I need to inspect first. All these regulations from Springfield you know!”
Bernadette lights her fart and oh my gosh, it was a big one! Her butt aflame, she lights not only the poopies, but Peppi too!
“Stop, drop and roll.”
“What? Peppi exclaims as he tries to put his clothes out.
Before long, the billowing smoke can be seen as far away as Schaumburg.
“I guess you should not have eaten those burritos, Bern,” Peppi mansplains to his wife.
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