A Very Moronic Concert

“Ma, would you like a dog food wrap?”

“No thanks, Sybil. I’ll take a raincheck.”

“I wrapped them up in toilet paper, Mother!”

JK shakes her silvery coiffe.

“Are there squirrels along the boardwalk?” JK asks her daughter, who is busy munching away at her doggy bag.

“Mmmnnnpf” a hungry, occupied Sybil replies in the negative.

“Speaking of squirrels, where are our tickets to the squirrel petting zoo?” JK inquires.

Sybil digs around her black-and-white striped purse, and pulls out the envelope Robbie gave her.

“Coupons? I thought they were comping us. These only give us a dollar off! The admission is $20 a pop! And where are our hotel keys? They said they were getting that, too!”

“Ummmm…” JK’s jaw just hangs.

“I have a plan.”

“Are we still going to the show?”

“Aw yeah, we are going early, in fact.”

6:00 PM rolls around and Sybil has already gotten to the bar with her mom, JK. The two were a bit delayed by their detour to the novelty store.

“Where is the ladies’ room?”

The bartender points in the general direction.

Sybil and JK each take a stall and begin blowing up the inflatable women. Sybil applies makeup, a blonde wig and readers to hers and JK applies a short, gray wig and round glasses to her doll. They walk out the restroom and place their dolls in two seats toward the back of the bar.

Sybil and JK leave the bar, giggling as they exit. They head to a casino where they spend the night.

The Moronic Half-Assets (MHA) Vaudeville act begins. Konrad Teirant tells his awful puns, then his wife, Madeline Topolla-Teirant, the colorful clown, juggles and attempts to balance on a large ball. Robbie Hurlbutt, mediocre Elvis impersonator, sings and dances like the fool he is.

PJ Hurlbutt cheers on her son Robbie, who she thinks is the greatest singer, meanwhile Pat Splatt sits there in his seat texting.

The show ends and Robbie takes a head count.

“We’d like to thank our fans Pat, my Mom PJ, and our buddies Sybil and JK!”

“Encore! Encore! Encore!” the lone fan, PJ, shouts.

“Did you say encore? We aim to please. Robbie is going to serenade a special fan who came all the way from Kankakee, Illinois!” Konrad announces.

Robbie comes down from the stage, toward the back of the bar and begins to sing “Burnin’ Love”.

Robbie is in shock that the “person” to whom he is singing does not react, nor move at all. “She is not a sincere fan.” Robbie says into the microphone after his number.

“Robbie, you moron. That’s a blow-up doll!” Madeline shouts.

Robbie jumps back in sheer embarassment.

“Elvis has now left the building.” Konrad announces.

The Moronic Half-Assets pack up, ready to leave. “That was a bust. I got really flustered up there.” Robbie sighs.

“We did not return much on our investment, did we?” Konrad gripes.

“Time to pack up and leave. If we drive home in our clown car, and make it home without stopping, maybe we can make up for our losses. Time to go!”

Robbie is in the Men’s washroom, wizzing away.

“Robbie, why do you leave the door open? I tell you about that time and time again!” Madeline screams.

A loud slam is heard.

“Rrrrrrrrgh!”

“Robbie, you are not Elvis, and you are not going to die in there.”

The MHA members pack up their stuff, and Robbie follows them into his clown car.

“I wonder what act is up next?” Robbie asks.

“I guess we’ll never know. Step on it Robbie!”

An announcement is barely heard from the purple clownmobile as Robbie pulls away, and rolls up his window, Kankakee-bound:

“Next up, from Manteno, Illinois: Gothic Diana and the Midnight Supremes!”

“Rrrrrrgh—I love her! My dreamy—“

“Shut up and drive, childish little boy,” Madeline commands as the rain pours down and the moon shines down on the Moronic Half Assets.

Double Down on Dog Food Instead!

Tara Bull, Division Manager of Accounts Receiveable at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) in Kankakee, IL holds a strategy meeting with Chief of Accounting, Konrad “Big Bag” Teirant and Chief Executive Officer Mack E. Avelli. Tara thinks CRASS can increase their bottom line by using their synergetic mindset to implement the new increased production metrics.

“Making our staff work harder for the same pay will move the goalposts,” Tara insists.

Ms. Bull is Sybil Kibble’s supervisor. She asks her Lead Collections Representative Sybil Kibble how her team would best achieve those metrics. “My double-down tactic always works,” Sybil advises her superior as she munches on dog biscuits. “By telling our debtors to pay twice as much as they can afford, they will always pay more.”

“Get ‘er done” Ms. Tara Bull tells Sybil. “I do not care how it gets done. The ends justify the means.” A hovering Mack. E. Avelli flashes an evil grin and a thumbs-up gesture.

Sybil and her team spend the eight hour work day making the calls, even skipping breaks at Tara’s insistence. Dale none too happy, runs in place at his cubicle to kill the stress, checking his heart rate on his beeping wristwatch. Mikey does his usual cleaning, making the toilets clean and sparkly at his own pace. However, something does not get done.

“Sybil! Get over here now!”

Sybil hangs up on her angry caller and works her way over to Ms. Bull’s office.
“Yes?”
“You all are not making the metrics!” growls a livid Tara Bull as she chucks a pile of papers at Sybil. “Bring in the bucks or I will fire you all!”

Dale decides to try a different approach. He offers payment plans, and goes around Sybil and Ms. Bull’s hard rules. He finds his stress levels decrease as he is able to help his customers pay their bills and empathizes with them at the same time, as Dale was once down and out himself.

Sybil tries her might and cannot not double down to make her double bonus/Form 4 and metrics. She thinks to herself that if she could go home and work, she could call people around suppertime and reach more people. After all, it works for telemarketers, right?

Sybil drives her Chrysler LeBaron home, logs into her computer and starts making calls. Not long after 5:30 PM, Sybil hears a knock at the door.

“Who can this be, dag-nammit?” Sybil thinks to herself.

Image: a black-and-white cartoon of a young, mixed race woman with a cat in her lap.

Sybil opens the front door to her stone McMansion, next to the four-stall garage. “Hi Sybil. I am sorry to bother you. My cat Holly is missing and I am terrified. Have you–

“Your cat is not here, Kitty, go away,” barks Sybil as she goes back to her typing and calling.

As Kitty searches high and low for her dearest Holly-Cotton all over Kankakee and Bradley, Sybil’s Form 4s pile up. “I am winning! I am getting my Form 4’s! Gimme my Form 4’s!”

Sybil is so excited to collect all that money and make bonuses as a result via the Form 4 bonus and hopefully please her boss, Ms. Tara Bull.

“Man, I gotta pinch a loaf,” Sybil says aloud as she gets up after her last debtor hung up on her.

Meanwhile, a certain Miss Holly-Cotton, who has been hiding out in Sybil’s rather large house, needs a place to go herself. She hops up on Sybil’s messy desk and starts sniffing around. She sniffs a certain pile of papers and jumps on top of it, highlighting the entire stack!

Sybil exits the washroom, one of many, after springing a leak. She immediately spots Kitty’s cat Holly on top of what used to be a pile of Form 4’s.

“Oh my gawd, get the heck out of here you little brat-cat!” Sybil shouts at poor Miss Holly-Cotton as if she had done something wrong.

Holly gladly exits the house of Sybil and enters the loving arms of Ms. Kitty, who is waiting outside after having searched all Kankakee County for her long lost fur-baby. Meanwhile, Sybil returns to a useless pile of forms, formerly known as Four. Sybil doubles down on her nightly bowl of doggie chow.

Image: a dimly lit, black and white cartoon of a slender, 60-year old woman with blonde hair, wearing a headset. A computer workstation is seen in the background, dog treats on the desk. Text on computer monitor: "CRASS LLC"

Sybil Can’t Fly.

It’s that time again.

Kankakee bill collector and dog-food connoisseur Sybil is so excited for the annual Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Retreat in Hoboken, New Jersey, she can almost wet herself. However, she cannot fly. She does not want to fly, actually. It is not that she is afraid to fly; she just WON’T.

“I would rather take the train. That is the way to travel.” Miss Kibble barks to Mack E. Avelli, CRASS Chief.

“Do what you want. It will save the company money,” replies Mr. Avelli.

“Oh, I cannot wait! This is going to be so fun!” Sybil bursts out loud, as she runs around the office with great excitement. “I wonder what city I will see first? “Gary? Cleveland? DeMoranville? This is going to be AWE-some!” Sybil brags, while the rest of the office shake their collective heads, and sigh.

Sybil has been on her train for 14 hours. She has not slept all night. The woman behind her has been snoring and her toddler has been wailing like a banshee for the past hour.

An assistant conductor walks by. “Excuse me, what time will we be to Hoboken?”

“This train does not go to Hoboken. Your ticket says Newark.”

“What time, then?” snaps Sybil.

“We are running five hours behind.”

The train eventually pulls into Newark, after driving backward through a muddy lake, slowing for eight freight trains and stopping for six.

Sybil misses her shindig by two hours and takes the lonely train home, and her bragging rights with her.


This post brought to you by Aeroplane and the letters AA.

Smokey Gets Smoked

“Man, I am bored.” Smokey says aloud as she smokes in bed. Smokey has been an unhappy lot, unemployed from her CRASS debt collecting job. Smokey hears a loud pound on the door. She has been expecting a package, so she answers.

“Kankakee County Sherriff. Is this Mrs. Ashe?”

“Yes. Who dis?”

“I am here to serve you with this eviction notice. I need you to sign—“

“Eviction? Why am I being evicted?”

“Ma’am, I am only here to provide document service. I need you to direct questions to your landlord. Sign here please.”

“I aint signin’ nuttin’!” Smokey screams.”

“Then I will have to report you to the Kankakee County Judge who may issue a bench warrant for your court appearance. Make it easy, sign that you got the papers and we can avoid all that.”

“Fine.” Smokey grabs the papers and scrawls a barely legible signature.

Smokey and the officer part ways.

Smokey is furious and at the same time feeling terrified she will be forever homeless. She has not been able to find a job because nobody wants to hire her.

Smokey calls her landlord and they do not answer. Smokey opens up the packet left for her:

“Your building is being condemned by the Kankakee County Codes Department due to the entire nonsmoking facility having been permanently tainted with cigarette smoke. One resident has been smoking in her unit, despite multiple warnings and it has made several residents severely ill. Please contact Kankakee County Department of Social Services if you need assistance with housing placement.”

“So now I am homeless, just because they decided to close the entire building? Why they do that to me? Them fools, kicking me out. Now I am going to be homeless. They have no sympathy for me at all,” Smokey says to herself.

Smokey puts out her butt and drives down to Wally Mart. It is July 4th and it is one of the few stores open on Independence Day.

“Ma’am, smoking is not allowed in the store.” Smokey gives the clerk a dirty look and walks out, leaving her cart full of merchandise behind for someone else to deal with.

Smokey spies a small structure off in the distance.

“What is this? Smoke Shack? I need to check this out.” Smokey says to herself.

Smokey heads to the white tent, decked out in signs marked “TNT”, “M80s” and “Roman Candles”.

Moments later, all of Kankakee lights up up in colors of red, white and blue. The glow can be seen for miles, making children and kids of heart grin from ear to ear, from the loud pops and sizzles.

Happy 4th of July, everyone!

But who will clean up the chunks?

Behind the Moroniverse – Early concept art plus new characters!

Damien Hurlbutt’s birthday is coming up on August 10th. To celebrate his birthday, I would like to share some early concept drawings of him and other morons.

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Below is an early character design for an unnamed Dale Davis.

The next few drawings I created early on for a previous series which I merged into MoronicArts. Look for them in my forthcoming novel.

Damien Dumped

Damien harasses his ex wife Lori on the 10 year anniversary of his lame showoff proposal to her, even though she is long gone, having left him because of his love fraud and narcissistic abuse. He downvotes all her Utube videos even though she blocked him all social media, as a glitch still allows blocked users to downvote. Damien clearly needs a hobby.

Detroit’s Rachel Shelley gets into a huge fight with her lover and fellow narcissistic sociopath Damien Hurlbutt. She is tired of hearing him complain about his ex-wife.

Rachel chucks a bunch of Damien’s hoard into the dumpster while he is out at work.

She leaves him for her side piece, Kankakee heroin addict and loser Leon Peeonne. She has had enough.

Damien downvotes Rachel’s and Leon’s videos on Utube while he is sitting behind the counter at work, thinking nobody is looking. In walks his supervisor, Konrad Teirant, theater owner, who suspends Damien for a week.

Damien comes home in the middle of the night after working the late night shift at the theater to discover all the things he loved more than Rachel, Star Wars toys, Muppet coloring books, $35 ornaments, $75 toys, $600 figures — gone. He jiggles every single door repeatedly to check for home invaders, nothing. He calls out for Rachel. No reply. Damien walks past the remaining boxes in his neckbeard nest, mostly empty — save for a few towels, ratty graphic tees and unused pots and pans — and discovers that Rachel has left with all her belongings. Then it hits him.

Damien heads out to the dumpster outside his apartment and dives in, digging for his lost treasures. He throws a few boxes overboard. Damien continues to dig. Meanwhile a sound is heard in the background:

“Beep…beep…beep…beep…”

Dumpster Dive Damien

Shady Bourbonnais neckbeard and narcissistic sociopath Damien Hurlbutt went dumpster diving the morning after he and his part time lover from Detroit, Rachel Shelley, got into a bitter fight and she threw some of his hoarded items into the dumpster. As Damien dug for the treasures he loved more than his woman, little did he notice the danger lurking behind him.