Toxic College-y

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Scary Barry Reynolds gets fired from his job as a road-test proctor for the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles, and starts his own college called “Dr. Mathew B. Johnson School of Intrepid Arts” in Albion, Indiana, teaching martial arts and telekinesis, a school he named after his favorite academic leader and best friend. 

Gothic Diana Ross gives her TV the side-eye

“Become as powerful as the Dragonball Y characters you see on TV! Develop your real life martial-arts skills, and when you get to your senior year, you’ll become a PSI-ball master!” 

“Not this ad again…” Gothic Diana Ross says across the Indiana border in Manteno, Illinois at the slate Victorian home where she and her bandmates reside. “Who wants to go to Indiana anyway?”

“Indiana wants us, but we can’t go back there.” Gothic Flo retorts and The Midnight Supremes all giggle.

Classes begin at the School of Intrepid Arts in Albion. Students practice basic self-defense, mixed martial arts and fencing.

“A new life awaits you at the School of Intrepid Arts” a flashing, talking blimp advertises as it flies over Northern Indiana and Illinois, spending a rather long time over Chicago, until someone begins to fire at it.

“Pop! Pop!” is heard as the floating advertisement-machine is gunned down somewhere on the Southside. 

A scholar gets harassed in his dorm, racial remarks litter his marker board. One moron, Pat Splatt, writes “KKK” on an empty pizza box and drops it outside his dorm room.

Protests are held by multiple school groups which make the local news.

Barry and Terry Reynolds respond to the media from the comfort of their own home.

“I will answer that later. Come back.” President Reynolds tells the news, and does not return their calls.

The scholar tries to learn to make “PSI Balls” on the internet and learns that it is fake. Meanwhile President Reynolds uses school money to pay for pet construction projects so he can hire his wife Terry’s company to do all the work.

Barry and Terry make the classes so hard, it is impossible to pass. Barry and Terry love seeing the disappointed faces of aspiring martial-arts students receive their report cards littered with Fs. 

President Barry Reynolds sends out a memo to his wife Terry using negative humor, snarking she should bulldoze “trash and idiots who live on minimum wage.” Barry accidentally copies the entire college on the email.

Oopsie!

Students start creating memes and Fakebook groups. President Barry reports them to Fakebook owner Emperor Zucc who shuts them all down. 

Students take to the news to expose the corruption.

The scholar is interviewed, and talks about his brother — also a student — who died when trying to defend a bully using “PSI Balls.”

“If President Reynolds wants to create chaos and censor those who rise up against his regime, then maybe he should move to North Korea. I bet he would feel right at home.”

Barry and Terry visit Bern Cacca bathing in the bog near Manteno, Illinois, for public-relations advice hoping to clean up their image, since Bern is so good at maintaining her squeaky clean image while doing dirty those closest to her. Oh, and she burns poopies.

Bern Cacca bathes in the bog

“Bern Cacca? We have an important message. We need your help.”

Bog Witch Bern keeps on swimming.

“Bern? We have something to tell you.”

Bern continues to ignore the looming Terry and Barry.

“Bern? We want to know how you keep your image so clean while you do others dirty.”

“Can’t you see I am taking a bath?” an angered Bern yells back, hoping to be left alone.

“Oh you are so…RUDE!” Terry snarks at Bern. 

“I am busy. Go away.”

“God hates ugly people! I am calling the manager!” Terry says out of desperation and fear.

“I am the manager.” Bern replies as she shoos away Terry and Barry. 

“I wish my hearing aids were broken.” Peppi Cacca says to his wife Bern and the Reynolds couple leaves.

The Indiana Attorney General investigates and shuts the school down, and the story makes television headlines.

“Oh good, we no longer have to see those annoying ads.” Gothic Flo says to Gothic Diana and then turns off her TV.

CRASS Cubicle Contest

“You are number one!” Team Leader Sybil Kibble tells new part-time Collections Representative, Robbie Hurlbutt at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS).

“I know,” Robbie smirks.

“I mean you made the top of our production metrics. Good job, keep doubling down on debtors and you will do just swell here at CRASS.”

Robbie flashes a thumbs-up to Sybil and dances back to his cubicle.

“Ding.” Everybody gets the same email.

From: “Mack. E. Avelli” [bigmack@crass-llc.con]
To: “CRASS Corporate Listserv” [all-crass-l@crass-llc.con]
Friday, October 25, 2022
Subject: Cubicle Decoration Contest

We here at CRASS care about employee stress. Therefore I, as your polite and tenderhearted Chief Executive Officer, am extending an entire thirty minutes (:30) to participate in the company cubicle contest (CCC). Be creative in decorating your cubicles and have fun! You are not required to use your lunch for this event, but we encourage you because time is money and money is time!

The winner will be selected by our very own art director, the lovely and talented Dorian James on Halloween Day. The prize will be a trophy to display in your office. Think of all the fun things you can do with that!

Regards,

Mr. Mack E. Avelli
CRASS Chief Executive Officer

The collectors get to work making calls and decorating their cubicles. Robbie Hurlbutt, a local Elvis impersonator best known for an Internet meme featuring a scowling lady unhappy with his nursing home performance, covers his cube with Elvis record covers. Dale Davis covers his walls with ghouls and goblins. Sybil Kibble covers her supervisor cubicle with dog bones because she likes to eat them during her breaks.

It is a cold, windy Halloween day in Kankakee and it is starting to rain. “If you don’t like the weather here in the Midwest, wait five minutes,” Dale jokes in between calls, jogging in place, beeping his watch to check his heart rate.

“Eeep!” The email all CRASS employees have been awaiting for has arrived.

“Who changed our notification sound to a wild eep?” Robbie asks.

“That was probably Dorian,” Sybil sighs.

From: “Dorian James” [dorian@crass-llc.con]
To: “CRASS Corporate Listserv” [all-crass-l@crass-llc.con]
Thursday, October 31, 2022
Subject: Cubicle Decoration Contest Winners and Losers

Sybil: Your design lacks thought and maturity. It is not what we are looking for.

Dale: There is no art development and it basically reads like a rather puerile joke.

Tara: You are obviously a 13 year old drama queen…Grow up little girl.

Mack: Several of us discussed your design and did not like it. Not everyone likes what I make. It is not personal.

Mike: You need to get used to the fact that not everyone is going to like your work and move on.

Robbie: That is the best design I have ever seen. That’s so deep. I love Elvis. You are a real winner!

R,

Dorian James
Art Director Extraordinaire
Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS)

The CRASS staff is upset…except for Robbie. He is smiling away, taking calls and collecting his Form 4s from all the bonuses he gets collecting on fake debt. Robbie is grinning ear to ear and cannot wait to rub his trophy in the faces of the collections team entire staff after he receives it.

Robbie continues to successfully make one call after another, when he gets a wide-eyed visitor.

“Hey there, fella!” an upright, confident Dorian James chants to Robbie as he is very happy to see him.

“Oh hey man! Thanks for picking me! Better than picking my nose ya know.”

Awkward silence ensues.

“That was a joke, ya know,” Robbie says nervously.

“Oh sweetheart, I am here to present you with your award.”

“Thanks, man!” Robbie says as he accepts his tiny, gold-tinted trophy.

“Oh, thank you honey. Not a problem at ALL! Hey Robbie, what ya doin’ after work? I think ya kinda cute and wanna take my number one man to dinner!”

“Wait, what?” a confused Robbie asks.

“Yeah cutie! I love your Elvis hair and your clothes! Let’s go out and do karaoke or something!”

“No way, man. You’re not my type. I quit!” An infuriated Robbie storms off the job and out the building.

Dorian feels crushed by the rejection.

“How does it feel to get rejected, huh? Yeah, ya little twerp! See what it’s like?” Sybil says to a beleaguered Dorian.

Happy Halloween!

Caccas Burning, Stomachs Turning

Image: a full-colour cartoon of a black lady with big hair holding her head in her hand the foreground, looking out the window at a house with a smelly bonfire.

Poor Gothic Diana Ross. All she wants to do is lie down in her silky black sheets and take a nap after a long day practicing with her bandmates, Gothic Mary and Gothic Flo in her Manteno home. Nope. Next-door neighbors Bernadette “Bern” Cacca and her husband Peppi are burning port-a-poop again in a backyard bonfire after a job as Bern claps and sings, interspersed by random kazoo sounds. They sure love to farty.

Solitaire

Deerfield, Illinois-born drugstore chief, wacky inventor and barfly Wally Green is playing solitaire at The Gaslight after the nice lady in heels rejected his moves. Apparently his tall tales about wrongly losing the deed to Manhattan Island – after pirates had stolen it from his ancestors – was too much for her to handle. I wonder what she thinks of the air-horn inside his nose which blares whenever he blows it.

Bring Your Parents To Work Day

“I just got a new kill-switch for my bus parts collection” JoAnn “JK” Kibble tells with heartfelt enthusiasm to her daughter Sybil, Lead Debt Collector at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) in Kankakee. It is Bring Your Parents to Work Day here at CRASS.

“I wonder if she’s single” bill collector Dale Davis thinks about his the mother of his boss Sybil, since Miss Kibble had rejected his many advances in the past. He runs in place and tests his heart repeatedly on his watch, hoping to impress The Kibbles.

“The squirrels are really nuts around here. They are nature’s comedians,” Sybil says to her mom as she crunches on a bunch of dog bones.

Wally Green’s Rejected Patents

Wally Green has been notorious for his wacky inventions for quite some time. Some of his ideas have made it into his drug stores. Others failed to pass patent approval and almost landed him in prison.

Finger Ale

Made from real fingers, this new organic health drink was set to be the new health craze, only it failed FDA requirements, and put Wally on several law enforcement watch lists.

Toiliot

This production-oriented, automated toilet would flush well ahead of schedule and make sure to splash its user, doubling as a bedde. As an added bonus, Toiliot would entertain people by making fart noises after flushing, much like Wally would when he blew his nose.

Passhole

This computer program would require its user to type in their password correct the first time. Any error would result in electric shock and their account locking up immediately.

Do not look for these products at a Wally Green’s near you.

Wally Green’s Drugstore “Improvements”

Deerfield-born ladies’ man, drugstore owner and wacky inventor Wally Green wants all his customers to know he cares. After partnering with corrupted contractor Terry Reynolds of Albion, Indiana, he is doing some “CONSTRUTION” to renovate his stores.

FART CARTS

These shopping carts play the brown note when you get within 10 feet of the store’s door, making you crap your pants to punish you for not putting the cart away

404 COUPONS NOT FOUND 

These 404 page coupon booklets are designed with only some pages numbered, confusing Wally’s customers on purpose because Wally hopes they will give up and die trying before finding their coupon of choice. 

CLICKETY-CLAPPETY INTERCOM MUSIC

Do you like hearing the same 15-second piano loop every time you call Wally Green’s pharmacy? Wally partnered with the same firm who produced every single commercial that ran on television for the past three years to create 30-second loops using only finger snaps, hand-claps and “boom” sounds…the latter lifted from the Queen song “We Will Rock You.” It is the only music more repetitive than that of pop singer John Mayer. Marshall Stacks will be installed outside every store to make sure his neighbors hear it too.

TRAP DOOR CHILD SEATS

In an effort to save the almighty dollar, Wally Green’s is ceasing to repair the child-seat straps in their carts. At random, your coffee, purse or child will get trapped in the cart, or maybe even your fingers! We promise to keep delivering our buy one, get one half off (but never free) sales, and cutting expenses at all costs enables us to keep offering these sales to our beloved customers!

In Lieu-Au Fun

Manteno’s self-proclaimed “giver extraordinaire” who performs accordion covers of pop-tunes to raise money for the photo opportunity, Bernadette Cacca holds a kitschy, Hawaiian-themed shindig to thank her enablers, the Poopy Groupies. She really wants them to know she just loves their continued excellence in bum-kissing and useless-drama creation.

“That’s so bad!” Bernadette says as Peppi leaves the party. “He just came for the food and did not stay. All I do for him! All I do for the world! He just left me here to die alone!”

“He left for the washroom, Bern. I would too if I ate pineapple on pizza,” JB the Turd-Burglar tells his crush, the Manteno Wonder herself, Mrs. Bernadette Cacca.

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.

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.

MoronicArts Classics: Security is a Good Thing


Dale Francis Davis moved to Kankakee, IL from Snowflake, AZ to seek work after his relationship with Juli-Irma went sour.

His two year engagement with his dear poopiehead, and fellow Snowflake, Juli-Irma went downhill rather quickly when Miss Juli figured out dear Dale’s tablet and mobile telephone password, “password.” In a fit of jealous rage, she discovered that he had one contact other than his mother and his buddies from the town saloon, a Sybil Kibble, and blocked her promptly.

She then destroyed both devices by throwing them in the toilet, perplexed why they did not go down the bowl when she flushed.

A few days later, Dale hit the road to interview for his new position as a Collections Representative at Collections Recovery Associates (CRASS) in Kankakee, IL. He pulled out his new phone and confirmed the time. Today was the first day of the rest of his life.


Dale thanked Ms. Sybil Kibble for the offer, shook her hand and gladly accepted the job.