Kankakee mother, squirrel-chaser and school-bus-parts-enthusiast JoAnn Kibble found this stunner of a vehicle at a Manteno dealer, a real steal with only 64K miles! All of Kankakee County will surely hear her coming down the road, and up it, too! Hurry up JoAnn, before Bern Cacca buys it for the farty-horns!
Poor Dale. They closed the men’s washrooms at Cinema-13 in Bourbonnais, and he has to go realllly badly after drinking all that overpriced pop. After 20 minutes waiting outside the only family stall, he begins to grumble: “What did they do, fall in?”
Tiny twin sister act The Favorites continue talking amongst themselves, flushing repeatedly to make it sound like they need to use the facilities for something other than wasting the time of the pained folks waiting outside in line, Dale’s pants dropping from his legs wiggling. Those little turds.
These tiny twin sisters sing about breaking crap in their new single “Broken” from their album “Broken,” coming soon from Broken Records. Not coming to a store near you. Be sure to see them open up for Vaudeville troupe Moronic Half-Assets (MHA) who bring you all the entertainment with half the budget.
Their favorite hobby is talking to each other in the washroom stalls, making sure to flush repeatedly, pretending to whizz while other ladies line up because they have to actually use the facilities. Bern Cacca would be proud.
“It’s hotter than a boiled owl!” Bourbonnais cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narcissist Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt thinks aloud, as he heads down the stairs to get his mail. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I got my postcards off CBay. I bought over 200 from this guy, one at a time. What a great seller! I can’t wait to impress my friends with these! All these favors I do, oh boy, oh boy, they will get a SURPRISE!”
A lady across the way gives Damien the side eye.
Damien logs onto his personal computer, setting atop a wooden folding table. He tries to log onto his alternate Fakebook account, purposely created to stalk his ex-wife Lori and her friends, who divorced him because he abused her.
“Oh man, I cannot get on. What is this about getting reported again for violating the terms of service? I did nothing wrong. I am just a nice guy who has no rights. What about us men?” Damien types into the box in response to Fakebook’s “How did we do?” questionnare.
A few minutes pass. “Ding!”
Damien awakes from a deep sleep, all his loud snoring ceases.
Damien jumps up to log onto his computer.
“Hehhhhhhhh…” Damien sighs.
“We have permanently disabled this account due to multiple third-party complaints. Do not attempt to log in again.
— The Fakebook Team.”
“Now this account is crumped. I know! I will just make a new one! That will show them. Hmpf.”
Damien clears his browser’s history, cookies, cache and then reboots his machine. He reloads Fakebook and tries to create a new account under a diffent name so he can continue to harass his ex-wife, because he clearly has nothing better to do with his time.
“We are sorry, Damien. Maybe you should go out sometime and get a life. Do something productive. Get off the internet. We are closing both your accounts due to impersonation.
— The Fakebook Team”
“Those damnedable Fakebook people! They really put poop in my soup! Both my accounts are clunked over! I wish I could zogg over there and give that clump of people a piece of my mind!”
Damien goes into the bathroom, takes a huge crap, does not wipe and heads straight for the shower. He does not believe in wiping. After he gets out, he runs out the bathroom door, leaving a lake of water on the floor in his wake to get a towel.
As Damien dries himself, he shakes off like a dog, getting water all over the living room carpet. He gets an idea.
Damien dries his hair and then his manhood with the blowdryer.
Damien gets out his box of 200 postcards and sits down, looking a lot like Homer Simpson in his tighty-whities. He scrawls away into the night.
Weeks go by and Damien wonders why he has not heard back. Damien turns on the television, as he has not been able to log onto Fakebook:
“Breaking news: Alabama lawmakers stalked by a mysterious Bourbonnais man. Over 200 postcards containing crude drawings were sent to Alabama politicians opposed to women’s reproductive rights. According to reports, some of the content contained references to so-called ‘MRAs’ or ‘Men’s Rights Activists’, a reactionary group known for their anti-feminist views. Some of the content could not be shown on TV. We will print his address for our viewers’ protection. Back to you.”
Damien gasps, gulping down six antacids to purposely constipate himself because he does not like pooping around people. He craps his pants anyway.
“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” [firstname.lastname@example.org]
To: “CRASS Corporate Listserv” [email@example.com]
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!
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” [firstname.lastname@example.org]
To: “CRASS Corporate Listserv” [email@example.com]
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!
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.
Credit Recovery Associates (“CRASS”), LLC Spokesman Mack E. Avelli proudly announces their new Facebook page. Follow it to keep up on all things CRASS.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Over toward the right…that you Damien? Yup, somebody lurks in the shadows.
Thank you for painting the Bourbonnais MRA Club president, neckbeard and communal narcadoodle Damien Hurlbutt into the background of your horror art!
“Kevin” made Sybil Kibble an offer she could certainly refuse, so why won’t he accept her coupons as payment? All he had to do was give me his address.