Tag: mack e avelli

Becca Frickfrick is gone in 60 seconds.

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

Ennui fills the mind of Kleptomaniac Rebecca “Becca” Frickfrick as she foams at the mouth craving the next thing to rip off. After failed attempts to steal lawn ornaments, she’s now a free bird roaming the Moroniverse.

Kankakee bill collector and dog-food enthusiast Sybil Kibble is busy taking supervisor calls and reviewing debtor files at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS).

“I need a calculator, Miss Sybil” collector Pamela Frickfrick asks her boss.

Sybil opens up a couple drawers from the supply cabinet.

“You have your choice of this silver solar-powered one one or this green one with extra large numbers.”

“Nope, I need a graphing calculator.”

“For what?”

“My math homework.”

Before Sybil could shake her head, she spies Pamela’s twin sister Becca Frickfrick across the way knocking down company flyers, raiding the fridge and scratching her butt in the lunchroom.

“Oh heck no. Not my dog chow!” Sybil exclaims.

“Becca, go home for the rest of the week.”

“But I need the money!”

“Just go home and shut up.”

Sybil Kibble is busy loading groceries into her Chrysler LeBaron at the Schmucks Supermarket parking lot. As Sybil turns her back, Becca Frickfrick helps herself to random things from Sybil’s shopping cart.

“What are you doing?” Sybil asks.

“This is mine, this is mine, this is mine too…”

With one hand, Sybil swings the swiped staples back into her possession.

“Do you know who I am?” Becca stupidly asks her boss.

“An idiot. Now go home.”

Sybil climbs into her passenger seat to finish putting the grocery sacks into the talking car. Mrs. Frickfrick opens the driver’s side door, swipes the keys out of Sybil’s left coat-pocket, and begins to steal her car. Ten feet and one turn later, Miss Kibble successfully wrestles the grabbity hands off the stealing wheel, puts her car into park and shoves the thief onto the pavement.

“You can’t do this to me! I started this town! I AM KANKAKEE!” Becca cries out.

“You’re fired.”

“Eeeeeeeeeee!” Becca lets out a perfect high C like a teeny baby, cries in the pouring rain as Sybil drives home.

Back at work, it’s Friday and Sybil can’t wait for the weekend. Neither can the rest of the CRASS staff.

Collector Mary Grr walks up to Sybil’s supervisor cubicle.

“Where did all headset foamies go? I went to buy some out of the vending machine and it was empty!”

“I’ll look into it,” Sybil assures her.

Fellow collector Dale Davis beeps his watch repeatedly while marching in place to the tune of his last call.

“Gates are closed everybody!” Operations Manager Mikey Phillips announces.

The entire call center cheers and logs off their collective workstations.

A couple of staff embers make a beeline for the washroom while others make their ways to the break-room, only to discover a certain Becca Frickfrick emptying the vending machines after she had jury-rigged them to give her free stuff.

“You know, there’s a better way to do that…” Dale deadpans.

“If these things all fall out, I get to keep them, right?”

Sybil Kibble grabs Rebecca by the ear, lifts her up and and hoists her out the window.

“YEEEET!”

Sybil waves at the former CRASS collector and laughs.

“How did she even get in here?” Dale asks.

“We have no security here at CRASS because our wonderful owner Mack. E Avelli fired our guards during COVID, to save money of course.”

“Of…course.” Dale agrees with his superior as Mack is in the back counting up this week’s profits.

MoronicArts Classics: MHA Sounds the Alarm

~ Jen ~ 3 Comments
Kon Teirant

Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Accounting Chief Konrad “Kon” Teirant is having trouble balancing the assets against the liabilities, even after having cooked the books to a carbonized mess.

Mack E. Avelli

Chief Executive Officer Mack. E. Avelli calls in Konrad to hold a meeting.

“Kon, if we cannot make ourselves look good to our investors, we are going to fail as a company. I don’t need you to be honest about it, I need you to make us some more money. Just get it done.”

“I’ll think up something. You won’t be disappointed.”

“Good,” the fifty-something Mack says to Konrad and starts texting his 22-year-old wife Judithann, who ignores his message because she is too busy flirting with daemons.

It is midnight here in Kankakee.  

The fire alarm sounds for the third time this week at the Kankakee’s Best Low-Budget Apartments, complete with strobe lights, sirens and a man’s voice repeating the same message over and over again.

As the residents of this sorry apartment building wake up and use the washroom, Moronic Half-Assets (MHA) takes the elevator up to each floor in the tower. 

“It is midnight and you know what time that is! Come on, guys, let’s all dance! Didn’t you see that four-page flyer we left on all of your doors telling you to exercise more? We knocked on your doors because we had nothing better to do! Resident deejay Konrad is on the ones and twos!” exclaims property manager, narcadoodle and Vaudeville clown Madeline Topolla-Teirant.

DJ Konrad Teirant picks some records out of his crate, and begins spinning and scratching, rapping over the music.

Resident Tyrell Fowler — out in the hall wondering what the racket is about — explains to Konrad “dude, you cannot scratch 1950s love songs,” and walks back into his unit.

“Let’s get out the glowsticks everybody!” Madeline says as she pulls them from the fire-hose compartment on the wall.

Robbie sings Elvis tunes as he dances away, doing moronic martial arts moves on the in-between.

Robbie Hulrbutt

The MHA troupe packs up their party-gear and heads upstairs to the next floor in the tower.

When the crew are all done waking up their residents, they head downstairs to the office and turn off the alarms. Finally those poor residents can get some sleep.

“Here is your check, Kon. We will write it off as a business expense here at the complex.”

“Great, I will bring it to CRASS tomorrow,” Kon tells his wife Madeline and they head home in Robbie’s clown car. Elvis has left the building.

“Oh good, I got it,” a resident says sitting in her bed, as she reviews the video she recorded on her phone.

Konrad Teirant heads into the CRASS office, strutting along the halls with a turd-eating-grin across his face as he makes his way over to the office of his supervisor, Mack E. Avelli.

“Kon! You have a great smile! You should smile more often.”

Kon hands Mack the knife…errrr…check.

“Oh good! Now you can keep your job!” Mack tells his subordinate Konrad.

Kon says nothing and heads back into his office to cook more books.

Meanwhile, the CRASS phones light up like a Christmas tree. However the increased call volume is not from debtors calling back the CRASS collectors.

“I saw that video on the news, your accounting dude and his buddies woke some poor folks up in the middle of the night hosting some hokey rave party? What were you thinking?” 

Beep.

“Hey, this Trisha Cobb, better known as Gothic Diana Ross. You know, from The Midnight Supremes? We saw what you did when we watched the news. That’s not cool.”

Beep.

“Hello, this message is for Mr. Avelli. I am Geoff, an auditor with the firm Deltoid & Tush. We were asked to contact you about your accounting records. We are stopping by in an hour.”

“Kon, how do we cook the books now? Ya better cook them good this time,” Mack shouts to an empty room. Since he was up half the night, Kon took the rest of the day off to go home and now he is fast asleep, sawing a forest. 

Carla Moran’s Ticket to Fly

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

“You have a wake to attend.” Undead Greg Schneissder tells his lover, the communal narcadoodle and bog-witch known as Bernadette Moran Cacca.

“What?”

“There’s some dude out there photographing a dead bird.”

“Oh that’s that millionaire from Kankakee.”

“Millionaires in Kank? They exist?”

“Well yeah, duh! His name is Mack, he owns some debt collection firm there.”

“We should start a band called The Dead Fledglings,” the undead sociopath suggests, before waking into a wall.

“That’s so uncouth!” Bernadette’s ringer starts playing a GG Allin Medley.

“Hi Mom! I see you got my Craptocoins! I just mined them fresh myself!” Bernie flushes the toilet.

“Bernadette, take YOUR shower!” the shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture demands.

“Mom?”

“C’mon, we’re going on a little outing.”

“Where?”

“It will be a surprise.”

“I’m very busy burning the poops from last night’s port-a-potty job, raising money for the Manteno Optimal Club this weekend, and devouring unsuspecting gentleman callers next time I go to my swamp.”

“Get him out!” “Get him out!” Carla screams at the baseball game.

“Mom?”

“That didn’t even dawn on me. How about you and I take a little break, have some mother-daughter time, maybe we can do each other’s pedicures?”

“Eeeeew!”

“Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice!”

“Stop squawking at me!”

“No-wrong!”

“We always get into fights because you find that one thing about me to complain about.”

“You’re too sensitive, honey.” Carla gaslights.

“I have this awesome piano gig at the Manteno Cantina tonight. Wanna come see me play?”

“I know, I know, I know. So you’re not coming with me?”

“Yeah…no. That’s my final answer.”

“You mommy will miss you.”

“Good. Go have fun! Gotta run, because I got the runs!”

Bernadette hangs up her smell phone and flushes her washroom toilet again.

Carla of course calls Bernadette right back and leaves a voicemail:

“DON’T YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN! FINE! I will fly out to Groom Lake without YOU. We have all been wondering where your Aunt Sonya went but I guess you don’t care. When I find her, I will tell her how YOU mistreated me, and how little you’ve cared about her since she left town. You aunt cares an awful lot about you. And I love you an awful lot. Bye honey.”

Bernadette sees that she has one new voicemail from her mother, and immediately deletes it without listening. Then she poops.

Visions of vacationing in the desert by the lake, fill Carla’s grandiose head, devoid of vision. Lighthouses greet the boats passing in the night, scores of grey aliens cheer outside their ships of the space kind and wave at Ms. Moran, as she approaches the gate of the Dreamland ranch.

The next morning, Carla flies out from Indiana and Southwest toward Nevada, taking breaks to circle around with other vultures in the thermals to rest her wings. They land in Dulce, New Mexico helping themselves to a freshly dead cow, taking the back entrance and chowing down on as much carrion as they can after exiting. Within minutes, they fly away to some trees in the next town over to clean off their outstretched wings.

Carla then flies solo up toward Nevada looking for her Groom Lake vacation spot. Confused by the lack of water, beaches and boats, she stops at a diner in Rachel to ask directions.

“Dry Lake? What the heck is that?”

Disappointed by the lack of water in the Nye County surrounding area, Carla flies toward Homey Air Force Base to find her long lost sister Sonya where she was rumored to have last been seen.

Tired of flapping her wings, Carla walks over to the gate. Signs reading “No drones,” “Photograhy Prohibited,” and “Warning: US Military installation. Unauthorized entry strictly forbidden” are plain to see. She struts over to the guard shack and demands to be let in.

“Ma’am, did you read the sign?”

“My sister is locked inside and I need to rescue her.”

“Do you have ID, ma’am?”

“I have no idea where in there she is, no.”


“Do you have a driver’s license? Passport? Military identification?”

“Come here. COME HERE! I need to show you something.”

“If you don’t have proper identification, I will deny you entry.”

“I am Carla Moran. You DO know my sister, Sonya Moran, do you not?”

The camo dude just laughs.

“If you don’t leave the premises, I am going to have to call police.”

“OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! OK!”

“Back out the way you came, and head out. Where did you come from and where are you heading?”

“Inside to see my sister.”

“Alright, I’m calling police.”

Within a half hour, the sheriff shows up and take Ms. Moran into custody, issues her a $640 citation, and sends her home.

“Oh my god, my mom’s on TV! Wooooo! Look at this, JB!”

“What’s that honey?” her second-favorite lover Mr. Powers asks. Bernadette’s husband Peppi is out on another port-o-dump run.

Bernie points at the TV and spits out her beer.

“Indiana woman with ties to Kankakee County arrested for — get this — trying to break into Area 51. Reporter Elena Ess is on the scene.”

Bernadette giggles like a giddy child on Christmas and grabs another bottle.

MoronicArts Classics: Where There’s Smokey…

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

“Since that party last week in the break room set the sprinkler system off, the ventilation system is all jacked up. We need to do some work ‘round here and move some people”, CRASS Maintenance Manager Mikey Philips tells Collections Team Lead Sybil Kibble.

Head-pounding bangs and fart-like drills are heard, making it hard to get calls made. A smoke-like, horse-manure stench emerges from a cubicle near Sybil’s. Sybil gets up to investigate.

“Smokey? Why are you smoking? Go outside. I do not want to smell that.”

“Oh, they moved me due to the construction going on. I sit near you now. Nice boots, Ms. Kibble!”

“Get on the phones and put your butt out now!”

Sybil walks away and reads the posted sign: “CONSTRUTION – WATCH YOU’RE STEP”

“Yeah, they construe things around here: spelling and grammar!” Sybil wisecracks and steps back to her cube.

Sybil calls a few debtors and logs off the autodialer. The poopy stench continues to waft her way. Sybil clogs her way over to Smokey again.

“Smokey? You have not made a single call!”

“Oh, just one more puff!”

“Get to work! This is a verbal warning!” Sybil sternly tells Smokey.

Sybil grimaces at the loud pounding and drilling, as well as the tobacco clouds eminating from Smokey’s cube. She logs onto her autodialer and collects more debts from her clients’ numbers.

After a particularly stressful escalated call, Sybil logs off the phones and puts her head down. Tired and hangry, she smells the crappy smoke. “I bet she is still horsing around.”

Sybil approaches Smokey, who is slouched down in her chair, her ear in her mobile phone. She is clearly not calling her debtors! 

“That’s the witch. Blonde hair, reading glasses, black and white outfit with heeled boots.”

“Come into my office, NOW!” Sybil orders Smokey.

“No! I do what I want!” Smokey shouts at Sybil and continues her mobile phone conversation.

Sybil storms over to her cube to devise a plan. 

Smokey leaves for lunch, and to buy more cigarettes, of course.

Sybil goes to Smokey’s cube and takes her ashtrays, goes out back and tosses them into the dumpster. She thoroughly checks her cubicle for any other ashtrays. Sybil then takes her trashcan and moves it to her own cubicle, stopping to dump any butts onto Smokey’s desk. “Since she is not doing any work, she does not need this, hahaha.” Sybil hides the trashcan behind her desk. Sybil then takes all the cups out of the break room and hides them in her cubicle, in case Smokey wants to use them for her butts.

Smokey returns for “work” and plops her bum down in her chair. “Dang, where my ashtray go?”

Smokey begins to pace around the office. She looks up and down the office for an ashtray.

“Dale,  handsome fella, got an ashtray?”

“Nope. Do some work.”

“Linda, got an ashtray, my sweet friend?”

“No!”

“Mikey! Hey my cool dude! Got an ashtray?”

“I am trying to do some work here.”

Smokey spends the entire day pacing around the office bothering people.

“Hey Smokey!”

“Mr. Avelli! Oh, Mack, you look so handsome! Hey, do you have a—“

“Yes, I have your termination papers right here. Now go clean out your desk. You’re fired. You have thirty minutes to gather your belongings. We will mail your final paycheck, minus today’s payday as you did not do any work.”

CRASS Toilet Paper Giveaway

~ Jen ~ 4 Comments

We want to TP everyone in Kankakee County! On April 1st, come over to the headquarters of Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) and get the scoop on poop! One brand spankin’ new roll for each customer! If you use both sides, it lasts twice as long! Run on down now to CRASS before Bern Cacca steals it all!

And while we’re at it, be sure to pick up some half-ply toiler paper recipes, courtesy of Wally Green!

CRASS Chief Executive Officer

Mack E. Avelli

 
PS: April Fools!

 

 

MoronicArts Classics: Favorite Flicks of the Moroniverse

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

Walter Augustine Green

Cigar-rolling B-rolls Wally finds oh so interesting.

Sybil Katrina Kibble

“Scooby-Doo: The Movie” Sybil watches for the Scooby Snacks.

JoAnn Kissane Kibble

“The Nut Job” is the favorite of Sybil’s ma JoAnn A/K/A “JK,” since she, Sybil and best friend PJ Hurlbutt love to go out squirrel-watching even though the neighbors think they are a little nuts.

Bernadette Moran Cacca

“The Wonderful World of Dung” Bern Cacca wishes she can see again (and again, and again), because she enjoys dropping a deuce. Her favorite part is watching the elephants pooping and peeing at the same time. Here she sits all broken hearted, tried to buy but only parted because the stupid thing is even not out on DVD.

Peppi Cacca

“Dude, Who Stole My Car?” is the only movie Peppi ever watched, because it’s the only dumb enough for him to understand.

Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt

“Batman Returns” is at the top of this narc-a-doodle neckbeard’s list. Damien feels bad for The Penguin because he identifies with him. He thinks the movie is all about him as he does everything else.

Robbie Roy Gary Hurlbutt

“Bubba Ho-Tep” Robbie Hurlbutt binges on repeat because he thinks he is the reincarnation of Elvis Presley. He leaves the building to watch it because his biggest fear is being locked in the washroom.

Konrad Teirant

“Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room” Kon watches on his smart-watch, so he can find timely recipes to cook the CRASS books.

Judy Avelli

“Scream” has Judi enticed because she has a thing for Ghostface.

Carla Rachella Amanda Medici Moran

Carla Moran (not to be confused with a different Carla Moran) watches “The Entity” in a recursive loop, when she can’t sleep. Then people tell her it’s all in her head…umm…beak.

Mack E. Avelli

“Battlefield Earth” is the beloved favorite movie of the CRASS chief. He thinks it is the best science fiction movie ever made and that it’s a true story.

MoronicArts Classics: CRASS Company Classifieds

~ Jen ~ 1 Comment

“Let’s make work fun again!” announces Clio Bersola, Human Resources Director and Glee Club president for Kankakee debt collection firm Credit Recovery Associates, LLC (CRASS). She got permission from big cheese Mack E.. Avelli to open up a classifieds’ section to all employees, since their therapy goat did not pass probation.

Leaked from the CRASS intranet, here are some of the ads posted by CRASS staff and their buddies.

CRASS Classifieds: No matter how long you work, an ad in the classifieds never stops working.

001 LOST AND FOUND:

Lost: My mind. Please help! Call Mack at 555-3700.

002 ANNOUNCEMENTS:

Wanted: The beast in my dreams…the one that makes them loony! Call Judithann Avelli at 555-FIND if you find him. Don’t tell my husband.

004 FREE CRAP

Free movie tickets for any of M’ladies who would love to adorn this tenderheart on a date to the multiplex. I tip my fedora to you. Email Damien Hurlbutt at connivingpimp@hautemail.con

006 AUCTIONS:

Auction at the corner of Wally and Green Streets. Half-ply toilet paper, finger ale, a date with Wally Green and more.

010 WHOLESALE, RETAIL AND WHATEVER:

Lifetime supply of Sitagin, Just like the energizer bunny commercial from 1991! $40. 815-555-0000.

Money for sale! $20 bills only $26. Call 1-900-IM-CHEAP. Only $10 a minute.

011 APARTMENTS, UNFURNISHED:

One room apartment with water, 1 3/5 baths, 2 windows, no pets allowed. Call 815-555-RENT and ask Sonya.

020 FARM ANIMALS:

The perfect animal for all your farm work! Many colors from which to choose and low maintenance too! Call the Parakeet Center for more information at 815-000-BIRD.

030 INFORMATION FOR SALE:

Underground alien bases! Flat Earth! The Deep State! Call Konrad at 000-UFO-RIDE to buy some information the MSMSG won’t tell you.

032 SERVICE FOR SALE

We scratch CDs, records and crush cassettes. Reasonable rates. Call Pat at 815-555-KRUSH.

100 VACATION SPACE FOR RENT

Swampland! Free port-a-potty with every stay. Call 815-0UT-HAUS and ask for Bernadette or just pay her a visit at night when she’s hungry.

120 AUTOMOBILES

BRRRRPPPPPPHPTTMOBILES! All makes and models of these teeny-weeny motorbikes. As low as $500, seats and tires extra. We also have plenty of lifted trucks to lift your ego. Call Brandon’s Imbecile Machines at 815-555-STINK. Free roses for the laaadeeeees!

Marty The Mailer-Daemon Flirts With Judi Avelli

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

Judi Avelli, 20-something wife of the 60-something Mack E. Avelli, enjoys being flirted with by Marty the Mailer-Daemon while her husband is too busy running the crooked Kankakee debt collection firm Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS). She does not care who she dates or flirts with as long as he is evil – dead or alive.

Captured

~ Jen ~ 3 Comments
A black-and-white drawing of a skinny blonde lady photographing a daemon at the mall.

“Ooooh, you’re cute” says 22 year young Judy Avelli, as she encounters Marty the Mailer-Daemon at a Chicagoland mall. Meanwhile, her 60-something husband, Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) cheese-in-chief Mack E. Avelli is outside photographing roadkill. Judy captures Marty on film, while the mailer-daemon captures her heart.

Safety First, Judi.

~ Jen ~ 1 Comment

Twenty-two-year-old Judithann Avelli, wife of CRASS chief Mack E. Avelli, and unemployed brat really has a thing for daemons. This enquiring mind wants to know whether or not she can get knocked up by those interdimensional hellspawns, therefore she turns to the Internet, just like these guys.