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.
Manteno swamp witch, co-founder of Peppi’s Portapotties and communal narcissist Bernadette “Bern” Cacca, burns poopies in the fireplace after her husband Peppi empties the portable johns.
Bern gets a message from a potential customer who had watched her sing show-tunes and play accordion to raise money for the Manteno Optimal Club. Little does the he — nor the rest of the public — know that Bern only does this to help her look good on the outside. After all, looks are deceiving. She could not care less about the charity nor anyone but herself.
Excited to meet a fan and potential customer, this queen of the porcelain throne shares the link to her port-o-dump commercial where she sings and husband Peppi raps.
Impressed, the fellow presses Bern for more information.
Bernadette delivers..
Bern is busy pooping, lighting her farts to spark flames and burning the turds in the fireplace. She hands the phone to her husband Peppi – who hopes to score a side-piece.
Giddy-Up!
Peppi feels disappointed, rejected by his love-interest who shares his level of imbecilics. He goes out and starts emptying the porta-johns, bringing the solids to Bern and rolling the liquids into his dime-bags. Peppi is excited to roll some extra skunky joints. Ahh, nice and stinky.
Peppi puffs away lying on his bed; not a care in the world, not even to his neighbors Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes who cannot stand the smell. Then he drowns himself in moonshine and pukes it all up.
Thankfully Bernadette already had already pooped in the washroom like her idol Kaitlin Bennett.
Yesterday, November 17th, was Wally Green’s store clerk, Elvis impersonator and covert narcissist Robbie Hurlbutt’s birthday.
“Are you hosting anyone for Thanksgiving?”” Wally asked Robbie.
“No, my table is rather small.”
“How about your birthday?”
Robbie spied a discounted flower bouquet and rang it up himself to ensure he got his employee discount, not caring that it was against company policy.
“I bought myself these flowers to put on my tiny table.”
The smallest violin played over the store intercom.
In walked Robbie’s number one crush, Gothic Diana Ross, whom Robbie had a history of relentlessly stalking.
“Diana, it’s my birthday and I want to give YOU these roses if you spend it with me.”
Unimpressed, Diana knocked the bouquet to the floor and walked away.
“Be sure to clean up that mess,” Wally Green tells his subordinate.
“Diana, I spent all that money on you, and you just threw my love away,” Robbie said to try and guilt-trip the singer and leader of the Midnight Supremes.
“We need to increase our bottom line,” CRASS CEO Mack E. Avelli tells his entire staff in the board room.
“Size matters.”
Laughter fills the entire room.
“Our budget is only so big and we need to increase our revenue to exceed expenses. We could only give so much to the Optimal Club last year and we had to shortchange the Kankakee Medicine Pronouncing Competition, even though we had already committed. We need good ideas, only the best.
Dale raises his hand.
“I know. I have a really good idea. How about we do things the Dale way this year…”
Mr. Avelli sighs.
“No just listen up. I’m worth your time. How about we spend less money on charity? That way we will have more money for the things we need. It all makes sense. We can do things the way we have been doing them, or we can do things the Dale way.”
“That’s enough Dale. We need to look good for the community. Image is everything. Who will go next?”
“Maybe we can hire more people to cut back on overtime? I am swamped with purchase requests!” Linda Stay says.
“Nice idea, but work faster,” Mr. Avelli snarks.
Sybil raises her hand.
“Sybil Kibble! What is YOUR grand idea?”
“I know. How about we call up and say we are “Kristy” from Management. Ask the debtor to call us back. We have no Kristy working here. Block caller ID so the suckers will not know it is us!”
“Great idea Sybil! Change all scripts immediately and don’t forget to double down on every call, everybody!”
The collectors get to work.
Calls come in.
“I would like to talk to Crispy?”
“Crisco called. Hahahaha.”
“Is the Cisco kid? My router is stuck. Can you fix it?
“Yeah I hear I won a free trip to Frisco. When do I go?”
More calls roll in.
“Yeah I heard a manager called me. I wanna speak to the manager. This is Karen.”
Team Leader Sybil Kibble cannot keep up with the call volume. The Collections Representatives keep transferring all their calls to her because they keep asking for a manager. After all, the messages stated a manager called for them!
The phone system shuts down due to Denial of Service, in other words a system overload.
“What are we going to do?” CRASS CEO Mack E. Avelli asks Sybil Kibble in her office.
Kankakee Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt — who believes he is the reincarnation of Elvis Presley — is number one in his own bathroom. Don’t lock him in.
Bourbonnais cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narcissist Damien Hurlbutt is happy to finally have a new girlfriend to impress with his lovebombing of gifts, Miss Rachel Shelley of Detroit. Too bad for him, he cannot see the thought bubble next to him, as she dreams about her other lover, Kankakee druggie Leon Peeonne.
Ahh…memories. This photo Sybil had taken outside this lovely café on LaSalle Street, where she had kicked Damien Hurlbutt in the jimmies for stalking her and harassing his ex-wife Lori, has been viewed by more than 20K people. Hopefully he will wear his mask next time instead of acting like a male Karen, and stop hoovering.
Kankakee debt collection firm Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) partnered with drugstore chain Wally Green’s to offer coffees to all collectors who doubled down on debt. Never settling for less, CRASS collectors ask creditors for twice they can afford. As a reward, drugstore owner, wacky inventor and wannabe ladies’ man Wally Green gave all collectors who made their Double-Down quota one cup of coffee Buy One Get One Half Off (But Never Free).
MoronicArts 
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