“I’ll give ya a free ticket if you come watch it with me, M’lady…” Damien Hurlbutt would say with a tip of his fedora, before he got canned.
Bernadette Cacca is Brown With Envy
Manteno communal narcadoodle, port-o-dump proprietor and charity-kazoo-cover-queen Bernadette Cacca wishes she could figure out why her biggest fan, Greg Schneissder, can blast blue flame from his bum when hers always come out yellow and orange. Bern plots revenge on Greg, because, you know she has nothing better to do with her time. Bernadette needs to get a life. Bern gets out her sparkly EyePhone 28 and dials him up. Nobody’s home.
“Why is he so good at farting?” Manteno pretend do-gooder and entramanure Bernadette Cacca asks her husband Peppi upon his return from the half-way house.
“Oh not now, I just showered…” Bog witch Bernadette answers Peppi’s mating call, that same one which had attracted her years ago, while Manteno’s queen of the porcelain throne was bathing in the swamp.
“I dunno…Why don’t you go over and ask him?”
“Just like the last time…” Peppi responds to Bern’s superlative, giving her the stinkeye as he takes his first puff of a skunky joint, one of many to follow, not the first by any means. The Caccas love anything that stinks.
“Oh no, that’s Bernadette. Don’t let her in, she’ll never leave!” The Midnight Supremes shout out the arched window of their dark stone Gothic Victorian home. All Gothic Diana Ross wants to do is cut the grass. Bern peels out the driveway, around the corner and back by the Midnight Supremes house again.
As Bernadette rolls by she, shouts all mockingly “take the pictures” at the Midnight Supremes who are minding their own business taking video of the weather.
“Grow up, you child!” Gothic Flo defends herself against the abuse spewed by spoiled-brat Bernadette.
“Methinks the trolls are crawling out from under their collective bridges and mothers’ basements again,” Gothic Diana Ross addresses her bandmates, The Midnight Supremes.
“Peppi and Bernadette gang up on me like a bunch of schoolyard children. I am 42. I am starting to think that Bern harassed us out of fear that maybe I was videotaping her, because it’s all about her you know? The funny thing is my video was of the rain; it was raining in one spot only. But those spoiled entitled brats it’s all about them you know? Because nobody else deals with the weather here on Earth right?”
“Yes. The rain is there to annoy those morons.” Gothic Flo deadpans.
Bern Cacca peels into her driveway, runs into the bathroom with her smell-phone and replies to a Fakebook post looking for “10 models” to “type yes in the comments.”
“I’m a plus sized model is that okay?” Bern asks Leona Krabalsky.
“Oh yes, we have a special bonus for you,” sister Doris Krabalsky answers Mrs. Cacca’s query.
“Robert Roy Gary Hurlbutt. I never want to see him, again. However, here I am. Mamma and I unload the van containing the remaining items from our broken marriage he demanded back: pooped-on record albums, Elvis dolls, countless cardboard tubes formerly holding paper of the wrapping and toilet kind.” Robbie’s former girlfriend dictates into her phone.
Back at his unit again, Kay feels bad for Robbie’s new source of narcissistic supply.
“I am sorry” Kay whispers into the young lady’s ear, her eyes’ micro-expression meeting in agreement.
“Just put that over there” Robbie says to her mother carrying a heavy box of ratty blankets.
“Where is Heidi?”
“I gave her away,” Robbie speaks of the cat Kay wanted to keep, the poor lil tortie Robbie speaks about as if she were part of the furniture, mere chattel. Robbie walks over to the washroom and leaves the door a-crack. “Don’t lock me in.”
“Ann. I go by Annie.”
“Yeah. I work over at the taco place. I am getting promoted.”
“Congratulations! I am happy for you.”
“It is not much. I got this new name badge which reads “King.”
“I catch your drift. I am thankful for you retail workers.”
Bernadette is running behind to meet The Krabalskys under the I57 underpass for her “modeling.” Extremely impatient, Bern throws a hissy-fit at the Krow-Grrr self-checkout whinging because it doesn’t take CraptoCoin.
“You guys are too woke! I am too good for this! I play all these songs for the Manteno Optimal Club and raise money for them and Ukraine. I wanna talk to the manager! My aunt Sonya knows the owner of this entire plaza!”
“Karen! Karen! Karen!” emerges from the crowd of customers wishing to shop just once sans harassment from the activity-impaired crowd and their ensuing ennui.
“What a dope!” Store clerk Annie King says as she yeets Bern out the door.
“Oh good, I got it! Ha!” Gothic Diana thinks to herself of the exposure captured of her narcissistic neighbor Bernadette Moran Cacca throwing a childish tantrum at the supermarket.
Bernadette meets Kankakee County trolls Doris and Leona Krabalsky under the bridge.
“You need to remove your twitter post about my friend Undead Greg. Especially when you were selfish enough to do what you did and then block him. Because he is the only person who ever farts and that’s all that matters! Look at me, I’m a troll who crawled out from under my bridge because I need to get a hobby and I hate myself. I don’t appreciate the way you treated him about his farts looking prettier than yours. Yeah.”
Gobsmacked, B. M. Cacca’s jaw drops to the floor, realizing she has been duped by people almost as narcissistic as she.
“But if you would like to try our product, we can still get you our special deal.”
“Product? I thought this was a modeling gig.”
“Oh yes, I have these lovely magic beans just for you. They will clean your colon FAST!”
“Will they make me farts turn blue when I light them?”
“Oh yes, they will alright.”
“Sign me up!” Bernadette says to her sisters-in-narcissism as they sell her the overpriced coffee beans. The Krabalskys will do anything for a sale and Bernadette will do anything to brag about her precious farts.
I Wanna Speak To The Manager
“We need to increase our bottom line,” CRASS CEO Mack E. Avelli tells his entire staff in the board room.
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.
“Act more ethically next time?”
They share a laugh.”
“Carrier pigeons,” Mr. Avelli smirks.
It is CRASS business as usual.
A Very CRASS Message
Listen to Dale leave a message for a debtor based after Sybil Kibble barfed up this silly idea:
A Very Mad Clown
Kankakee slumlord, sociopath and Vaudeville clown Madeline Topolla-Teirant struts into a busy Buckstars hoping to score some free java. “Welcome to Buckstars, what can I get started?” the friendly coffee clerk in the green apron asks a towering 5’10”, 300 pound Madeline. “I don’t have time to wait. You guys are horrible people, childish little girls and boys. Get my drink right and make it fast or I am going to go to the cafe down the street.”
“Okay, what would you like?” the barista replies with a smile.
“Get me a pink drink and make it fast. Not the orange drink like you screwed up last time.”
The barista cashes out Madeline; the bulbous clown and slum manager walks off to the side, away from the long line of thirsty customers.
Regular customer Kitty Bortolotti, the tall, curly haired, mixed-race beauty with the star earrings is next in line.
“Can I speak to the manager?” a confident Kitty asks with her hands on her hips.
Kitty winks at the team leader. “I don’t need anything, I just want to help you. Don’t let your staff be afraid of certain customers who try and intimidate your staff, if you know what I mean. I have experience; she’s all talk.”
“Customers like you are the best,” the supervisor says to Kitty.
“Glad to help.”
The two exchange smiles and a nod, then Kitty orders a drink alongside her best friend.
Kitty waits patiently for her drinks, meanwhile an obviously agitated Madeline storms over to the counter and screams at the barista, who has better things to do than listen to a screaming Madeline.
Kitty’s drinks come back. “We made you an extra one because we love great customers like you.”
“Awww thanks! You guys are the best.” Kitty takes a bill from her lime-green wallet and places it in the tip jar.
Kitty lifts the cup carrier, walks off to the side and chats with her best friend forever, Lana “LTL” Tolstoy Levitsky.
A bunch of names are called out: “LaWanda! Marigold! Damien!” but not Madeline’s. The happy customers grab their cups of joy and walk out the door.
Madeline turns to Abby and asks “What drink is that?”
A confused Abby looks over to Madeline.
“A pink one.”
“Oh I thought you had mine, we got the same thing.”
“Yeah sure.” Abby gives Madeline a dirty look and walks out the door.
“I hope they’re not clownin’ around with my drink!” Madeline thinks aloud.
“We made it just how you wanted it,” The barista says with a smile.
Madeline takes a sip and then reads the cup: “MADWOMAN”.
The entire cafe full of customers starts giggling and the room roars with laughter.
Madwoman storms out the cafe and walks behind the strip mall, where she is again greeted by the site of her best friends, the cafe dumpsters.
Bern Cacca’s Grocery Store Tantrum
“I drove all the way from Manteno just to play Running in the 90s and it’s broke. Get me the manager!” demands the entitled 43-year old Bern Cacca, throwing a fit like a bratty kid at a Schmucks grocery store.
“I am the manager,” says Brenda who walks away and laughs at Karen, I mean Bern.
Bern says “I should get a free game” as she storms out the store and peels away in her white sedan, thinking she is in a drag race with the other customers.
Moron of the Week: Another One Rides The Bus
This Karen, aptly named Karen per the passenger next to her, would not stop staring at me and my legs. Since she sat still long enough in her state of ennui, I drew her, tuning out Karen with my music.
Only then, did this Kareny Karen start to make demands. After I got a lot of the sketch done, I took off my headset, and heard Karen insist I stop drawing her. I advised Karen I would stop drawing if she stopped staring. Square deal, right?
But no! Karen made the conscious choice to gaslight me, insisting she was not staring and using the sense of entitlement at the level of your typical neighborhood Karen. She demanded I move my leg because “I was getting medicine all over the seat.” Yes, that invisible medicine you need special Karen powers to see, I had it all over my legs, my eyes, even inside my esophagus. Mmm-hmm.
Karen insisted she was right, after all, she said she 12 years experience in the medical field! I asked where she worked, Dr. Google?
Of course Karen refused to tell me and instead kept making demands, even complaining to the bus driver since the manager was not on board. The bus driver kept on driving, meanwhile Karen kept on Karening.
I award Karen Moron of the Week. No Triforce for you.
Wanna Buy An Oil?
Doris Krabalsky is Kankakee town troll Leona Krabalsky’s younger sister who sells essential snake oils, investments you can sell your friends, stinky pink drinks, and other MLM products on the streets. Meet her at midnight. Or look for her ice cream…van.
Madeline Thinks She Is Really IT.
Manager of Kankakee’s Best Low-Budget Apartments, Vaudeville clown and sociopath Madeline Topolla-Teirant sat down to study for her clown-school SATs at the Bourbonnais Buckstars after screaming demands at the friendly cafe staff, hoping to score herself a free drink. Madeline, known as “Madwoman” to her peers and tenants, thinks she can get her way by barking at people and calling them names like a schoolyard bully.
“I need you to leave and never come back” part-time barista Fernando T. Perez asserted. Of course, Madwoman threw a Karen fit, calling it “illegal” to throw her out, hurling racial slurs and colorful language. That’s IT!” Fernando called police and pointed at Madwoman.
Needless to say, the mad clown was hurled out, and banned for life.
Bern Cacca’s Stinky Stickers
Communal narcissist, obnoxious driver and Manteno-based portable-waste operator Bern Cacca went to another Schmucks grocery store hoping to play her favorite drag-race simulator after her out-of-order experience the last time.
Though their Running in the 90s game was also broken, Bern did get to spend her quarters on cleaning out these vending machines instead.
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