Robbie’s Singing the Bathroom Blues

Kankakee, Illinois’ worst Elvis impersonator, Wally Green’s drugstore clerk and evil narcissistic abuser Robbie Hurlbutt has a huge crush on Midnight Supremes lead singer Gothic Diana Ross. After all, she is an impersonator also, and he wants to make a huge impression on her. She has a gig coming up soon and he is scheming to find a way to connive his boss, store owner Wally Green into letting him hang up her show poster at work to promote her music as he thinks it will somehow make her like him. 

”Hey Robbie, have a look at these paper towels I invented just for my store: Half the size, twice the cost. All the frustration when you go to rip off a sheet, thanks to me!” boasts a balding, squat, rotund Wally Green as he tips his fishing cap.

“I know, boss, let’s put them on a groovy display table near the front of the store so the suckers — I mean customers — will think they are getting them on sale.”

“Great idea! I am glad I thought of it!” Wally exclaims with glee, throwing his stubby arms into the air.

“Well…now that I, boss, thought of such a splendid idea, I have a favor to ask. This band is really a gas and I want to hang up their poster for their upcoming show at the store,” Robbie says to his superior with bedroom eyes, dreaming of Miss Gothic Diana Ross, the only Boss he could ever want.

“Naw. Get back to work. I need you to make production metrics this time. Start selling people some pills they really do not need.”

Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Lead Debt Collector Sybil Kibble comes into Wally Green’s Drugstore to buy an iced coffee and a bag of dog biscuits for lunch as she forgot hers at home.

“Ehh. Out of order again. Must be that half ply toilet paper,” Sybil thinks out loud.

“Your washroom is on the blink?” Robbie asks, aghast.

“Yeah and I am in a hurry!” Sybil shouts as she makes her way over toward the men’s room.

“Do not go in there!” Robbie commands Sybil.

Sybil walks by Gothic Diana Ross in the men’s room, who is looking in the mirror, applying her jet-black eyeliner. She pinches a huge loaf in the stall next to Wally Green, who is busy whizzing away in the urinal. Sybil flushes but does not clean up the mess on the seat, flinging the door wide open with her arm. She makes a beeline for the sink and spots Diana sarcastically chortling away at the Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes poster on washroom wall.

A befuddled Robbie struts into the men’s room. 

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME IN HERE!” Robbie shouts at the women. “THIS IS THE MEN’S ROOM.”

“Get back to work, Robbie, the ladies’ room is closed. Take down this poster while you are at it and apologize to our customers.” Wally Green tells his employee Robbie.

“I am sorry IF I offended you.” Robbie smirks.

“Get lost!” Diana and Sybil chant in unison as they leave the bathroom.

Sybil buys her lunch and heads back to work. Wally sells lots of paper towels and Robbie is put on temporary janitorial duty until he improves his customer service skills. But don’t lock him in the bathroom. He thinks he is Elvis.

Artist’s Corner: Behind the Moroniverse – Becoming Sybil

Methinks I pulled a Trifecta of morons. The person on whom I mostly based off PJ Hurlbutt, Sybil Kibble’s next-door neighbor, moved into the building next to mine.

 

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The person on whom I based a lot of Dale Davis’s personality replied to my dating ad and has been trying to talk to me on the bus. He complimented on my shirt two days ago. The fictional Dale has a crush on his boss, Sybil.

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And today, I saw the person on whom I based the look and much of the personality of the world’s biggest moron, Sybil Kibble herself, in one of my favorite cafes. Like one of the many people on whom I based Pat Splatt, whom I had also spotted near the cafe, Sybil Kibble’s inspiration also hails from the Prairie State, Illinois. I am thinking they are out here working on a project at a sister site to the workplace at one time we all shared.

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Sybil was buying a Father’s Day card in Barnes and Noble, just like I was doing.

Help me! I am turning into Sybil Kibble!

Moronic Crime Rings and Things

Narcissistic Damien Hurlbutt desperately wants to impress his new girlfriend, Rachel Shelley, into coming back to visit him in Bourbonnais, Illinois from Detroit. However, he is as broke as a joke from his toy hoarding.

He comes up with a plan. Damien dials up his brother Robbie and asks if he can steal some identities. He offers some of his duplicate record albums as payment.

“I can part with my poorer copies of ‘Broken’ by The Favorites, my extra Walter Egans and all my Jewel records. I can throw in some Katy Scarys if you want, too…” Damien explains to Robbie, a Kankakee Elvis impersonator and pharmacy clerk.

Robbie jumps at the opportunity to add to his own hoard.

Robbie gets busy calling local con man Pat Splatt and the two devise a way to break into local sweetheart, single lady Kitty Bortolotti’s computer to steal her identity. Feeling dejected from having been rejected by Kitty after Pat had made a pass at her, Pat found her a perfect target for moronic revenge via financial abuse.

Robbie successfully steals Kitty’s credit card information and buys 18 bottles of dehydrated water and six tubs full of fat-free oil from Wally Green’s online mall. Damien thought these new inventions would impress Rachel in her fruitless efforts to lose weight, and who else to mansplain but Bourbonnais neckbeard Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt? “Throw in some cubic zirconia rings. She’ll never know they’re fake,” a bulbous Damien commands his brother Robbie.

“You got it.” Robbie smirks, a crooked grin fills half his face, almost touching one of his blue-black mutton chops.

Damien tips his black fedora, the one with which he hatfished Rachel. After all, how would the public — whom he works so hard to impress — know his “medium” bald spot takes up his entire head? He enters the restroom and sits on the potty.

“Oh kids!”

“What kids?” A quizzical Robbie asks Damien.

“Oh kids. Ohhh kids!”

A loud splash is heard from the washroom.

“Pheeeew!” Damien cries and waves his hand by his bum.

He emerges and sprinkles his newly washed hands all over Robbie and roommate Andy’s living-room carpet, using it as a bathmat, and at Robbie as well.

“I just left a huge stinker in your toity. Would you like to see it?” a proud Damien boasts.

“Just leave the door open and don’t close it if I am in there.” Robbie says.

“You’re not Elvis, just an impersonator.”

Two days later, the stolen goods arrive at Damien’s Bourbonnais apartment. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!” Damien exclaims as his next-door neighbor gives him the stinkeye.

Damien wraps the stolen, useless crap into prank boxes, boxes inside larger, nested boxes, and oddly shaped packaging, taping each package with hard-to-open packing tape to extend his desired cliffhanging effect on Rachel Shelley.

“I can’t wait to videotape Rachel, the expression on her face when she opens all those gifts from ME!” Damien says to himself, wearing a huge grin.

Damien finishes up his hours of taping, wrapping and more taping. He tests out his camcorder and memory card. He is all set for his catch.

Rachel walks in the next day, much later than Damien anticipates. Damien tips his fedora. “Hello, M’lady, Madame.”

“Yup. Hey.”

“Good to see you, do I get a hug?”

“Sure.”

The two embrace.

“Turn around and close your eyes. I am going to take your hand, honey puddin”.

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“But I say it because I love you. You’re so little and dainty.”

“Grrrr.” Rachel emits.

“Now take my hand. I have a little surprise for my honey puddin.”

Damien begins secretly rolling tape and then takes Rachel’s hand, leading her into his cluttered kitchen.

“Now open your eyes, M’lady.”

Rcahel opens her eyes, displaying her typical blank expression.

“I bought all these gifts for YOU!”

Rachel cracks half a grin.

“Now I want you to open this one first.”

Rachel opens the huge, nested box.

“Dehydrated water? Ohhh-kayyyy…”

“Yeah. I thought you might like that. Now open this one.”

Damien shoves another large box over to Rachel. She opens box after box, finally revealing its contents.

“Fat free oil?”

“Yeah. You could use it to cook. After all, you need to lose wieght and I want to help!”

Rachel begins to scowl.

“Oh, now you will really love this. Women love small boxes.”

Damien hands Rachel another box, which she also struggles to open.

“Why do you use so much tape? Packing tape too? Did you run out of regular tape?”

“Oh this is regular tape.” Damien snickers. Rachel finally gets the package open. “I got you a sparkly!” Damien exclaims. “Not only one but 17 of them!”

Rachel tips the box on its side and reads the label. “Cubic…zirconia.”

Damien’s face turns cherry red.

Music is heard from the other room.

“That’s my phone.”

Rachel gathers the boxes and walks away. Damien checks the tape. Rachel walks back in and Damien jumps, startled, and hides what he was doing.

“Hi honey.”

“Oh hey, I gotta go. Thanks for the stuff.”

“Yeah honey puddin. Where you going?”

“Out.” Rachel declares and heads out with the stuff Damien gave her.

Damien is all alone. Sirens are now wailing from the distance, getting louder as the seconds pass. Damien is shaking but trying not to show it. A knock is heard at his door. It is just what he fears.

Rachel arrives at her lover Leon Peeone’s apartment.

“Hey Leon, I got some crap to sell so we can get some more hard stuff.” The two laugh but not for long. Neither one of them is too bright.

Artist’s Corner: Behind the Moroniverse – Devolution of Sybil

Sybil is busy calling up people and bothering them right now, so this is Jen here filling in.

Some people have been asking about the inspiration behind such a silly person.

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Back in 2014, when I lived in Illinois, I had been receiving relentless calls on my mobile phone from a collections agency in Kankakee County. It was ridiculous. No matter what I did to block these fools, they would find another number to call me. I was in an abusive marriage, disabled from a brain disease with no cure.

I had to quit my toxic job due to my illness.  My former supervisor was harassing me, threatening to fire me if I do not come back to work even though I had already applied for disability retirement which was extremely pending and dragged out as was Social Security Disability. I had no income, no support system and was in extreme neurological pain.

I created Sybil in response to the constant harassment from the moronic debt collectors who could not care less about my situation, and started writing to help cope with my extreme physical and emotional pain.

I named her — ironically — after the tragic Oscar Wilde character Sibyl Vane from The Picture of Dorian Gray.

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Sybil’s middle name Katrina comes from a villain I had created as a ten-year-old when I used to draw comic books on notebook paper. I wish I still had those. Her surname Kibble, of course comes from her love of dog food.

Her look was mostly based off an extremely miserable co-worker at the toxic workplace from which I had retired.

I used to pass through Kankakee and stop there off Route 57 on the way to Chicago for medical treatments.

I originally intended to make Sybil an evil, narcissistic character but I did not think that was funny. Now Damien and Robbie Hurlbutt — another story for another article. Stay tuned.

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Artist’s Corner: Behind the Moroniverse

Sybil sent me here. This is Jen. You might know me, the creator of the Moroniverse? Some people have been asking me why I draw these fools the way I do.

I am starting a new series of blog entries explaining the madness behind my methods.

One reader asked me why some morons are drawn using ragged lines, while other characters are drawn with smooth lines and curves, some even in the same panel.

Pat Splatt, on the left, you see, is a huge sociopath and collapsed narcissist.

Kitty Bortolotti, on the right, is a huge sweetheart, full of compassion and empathy.

Scenes like the one below, make generous use of noir lighting to represent the dark characters:

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I dunno, would YOU hang around Damien?

Thank you to my readers for submitting their questions, and for continuing to read.

Next time I plan to tell some of my ideas behind the characters.

Be sure to like the We Are CRASS page on Facebook and tell your friends about the good clean fun o’er here at MoronicArts.

https://www.facebook.com/crassllc/

 

 

Rachel Shelley is a Sketchy Character

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Two-timing Rachel Shelley came over from Detroit to meet her OKStupid lover, Damien Hurlbutt, only to cheat on him with Kankakee heroin addict and useless hoser Leon Peeonne.

Neckbeard Damien continues to leave her messages from his flip phone.  He thinks he is going to win because he is such a “nice guy”.