Kankakee sociopath, slumlord and dumpster clown Madeline Topolla-Teirant gets a call from a loan shark scamvertising some kind of crap, hoping to take her up on the offer. That heat source, though…
“Did your brother Damien mop these washrooms? There is a lake everywhere,” Wally Green asks his clerk Robbie Hurlbutt.
“Naw, he was last seen somewhere around Area 51.”
“Now I need you to cut off access so people don’t slip and fall! Put one of those plastic things in the way, those ‘wet floor’ signs so that people will bump into it should they try and go pee.”
“And when you’re done, I need you to set up our new spice-rack.”
“Oh, for our pharmacy? To hang up all our pill bottles, right?”
“You sound more like your brother every day.”
“Did you invent them?”
“No, Robert. They came in all the way from Indiana.”
Robbie begins humming “Indiana Wants Me,” tuning out his boss.
“Boucoup Bogan Spices. These babies have a magic ingredient!”
“Can they make me high?” the drugstore clerk, vulnerable narcissist and Elvis impersonator asks with anticipation, eyes wide as his sideburns long.
“No, not that kind of magic. If you make production, I will let you in on the secret. I hear they are a big hit in Evansville.”
“Why are you importing from Indiana? That’s a whole world away.”
Wally sighs, shakes his head and walks back to his office. Wally opens up his Tindling app and swipes right as much as possible. After a slew of rejections, this wacky inventor and wannabe ladies’ man deals himself a game of solitaire and falls asleep, dreaming up the next buy one, get one half off (but never free) sale.
Albion, Indiana Optimal President Club Carla Moran drools over her shipment of bogan moths from Australia. “These will make great spices for my business “Beaucoup Bogan Spices.”
“I am gonna try them on the next man I devour when I return to my swamp.”
“Don’t forget it!” Bernadette snarks at her favorite aunt and flying monkey.
Kankakee bill collection boiler-room Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) holds their annual Halloween potluck.
“This dish is delicious. I have never tasted bean sprouts so yummy. Usually they taste like dirt! These spices are like no other, compliments to the chef! Where did she get that recipe?” CRASS chief cheese Mack E. Avelli asks.
“They’re just regular bean sprouts. Cut them up like regular bean sprouts,” Accounts Receivables Manager Tara Bull says to her superior with a crooked grin.
”I just made these intestine desserts for Halloween. They’re really good. I made them the Dale way,” Dale Davis asks his supervisor and crush, Sybil Kibble.
“I just destroyed a whole bag of dog biscuits, I’m not hungry now. Thanks!”
Mr. Avelli is dying to know who made the bean sprouts with the funky spices. He goes from office to office asking, hoping to find a way to make money off them. Someone owns up.
“Where did you buy these?”
“Wally Green’s,” Operations Chief Mike Philips tells his boss as he continues his FreeCell game.
“How about we do a big ol’ promo?”
“Do what you want. My wife made them.”
“Mike, contact Wally Green and ask that we co-host a talent competition. The winner gets a lifetime supply of this crack and a CRASS tee-shirt. It will make us a look good, and maybe Wally will pay back some of his debt. Get us on TV!”
“Call Dorian. I am too busy.”
Mike goes back to playing his virtual card game.
Mack develops a crossover campaign with Art Director Dorian James and plans to air it live on the local news. They are given the green light to air October 31st.
“It’s Halloween Night and we have a TREAT for you!” barks CRASS Chief cook of books and 1/3 of Vaudeville troupe, Moronic Half-Assets (MHA) Konrad Teirant.
Awkward silence passes.
“Get it, treat?” Konrad says with a falsetto giggle.
The crowd rolls their eyes and boos.
“Oh look a ghost!”
Not feeling the love of the crowd, Konrad moves right along.
We are holding our talent contest, sponsored by Wally Green’s and Beaucoup Bogan Spices! The winner will get a lifetime supply for these unique, and very tasty spices imported from Albion, Indiana. Sonya, what are these made from?”
Sonya attempts to force a big, cheesy smile, juxtaposed against her psychopathic stare.
“Out first act tonight is the Manteno Wonder herself, Bernadette Cacca! Get ready for her kazoo pop covers!”
Bernadette’s biggest fans, The Poopy Groupies, cheer, hoot and holler.
“I do a lot for the community! You guys are AWESOME! Get ready KaCo! Any requests?”
“Can you hum the Menard’s jingle?”
The crowd giggles and Bern carries on with her cover songs and finishes her act rapping about her port-o-dump business along with husband Peppi.
“We are King and Queen of the Throne. Come to Manteno and get your poopy on!”
Thank you Peppi’s Portapotties. Now for our next act, you will really like her, I know I do because she’s my wife! Give it up for Madwoman! I mean Madeline!”
After a slow clap, a large dumpster clearly marked “Peppi’s Portapotties” is rolled onto stage by an unseen pair of stagehands.
The seven-foot clown juggles broken records, scratched CDs and crushed cassettes.
“Hey, those are mine! Robbie Hurlbutt lies from offstage.”
Madeline chucks the busted music collection at the little fibber.
Thank you my love. And now our final act, Mr. Wally Green himself!
“I’m single by the way. Meet me here at the Gaslight Bar during Happy Hour. I will make you happy!”
Laughter fills the room and the airwaves. The bartender smiles.
Wally Green sings “Fart Your Birds”, a parody of Prove Your Love by Fun Factory. Bird tweets, squawks and fart sounds looped into the song can be heard on the playback. Wally sings and blows his air-horn nose:
Fart your birds,
Fart your parakeets
Give me all your budgies,
Point your butt and rip.
Don’t try to hide,
Don’t run from me.
Fart your birds,
Fart your parakeeeeeets!”
The crowd bursts into laughter, and tosses beer bottles at Mr. Green.
EmCee Kon Teirant takes over. “Thank you Wally. That sure was…interesting. The crowd has voted. I think we have a wiener, I mean, winner. The CRASS Winner of the WORST Act goes to, Mr. Wally Green himself! Mack E. Avelli, throw him a CRASS tee-shirt.”
Mack fires away a CRASS shirt out his tee-shirt shooter and directly into Wally’s massive gut.
“Any single ladies wanna meet me at the bar?” Sonya Moran and her favourite niece Bern Cacca run over, arms a-flailing, to give him a hug.
“Where is the jungle gym?” Chanel Teirant asks the busy Bourbonnais café staff, while her sister * dances and brother Bratley joins her pirouette. Mother and Dumpster Clown Madeline Topolla-Teirant Cheers them on.
“Ma’am, this is a Buckstars.”
After her influencer application got rejected for PooPourri, Manteno entertainer, communal narcadoodle and Queen of the Porcelain Throne Bernadette Cacca contemplates her next idea, hoping to pitch it to the Buckstars baristas who pretend to care, but of course, don’t. Bernadette is on a campaign to promote irregularity.
Bernadette Cacca nearly runs over JoAnn Kibble in the coffee line at the Bourbonnais Buckstars. She really needs to go number two but can’t. Bern and her enabler extraordinaire, fellow Turdologist and zombie Greg Schneissder, wait by the rubbish sacks. She cannot wait to burn her poopies again.
Mrs. Kibble walks over to the garbage pails to toss away her old cup. “Excuse my reach” she says as she reaches in front of the self-proclaimed Queen of the Porcelain Throne.
“Same,” the entitled brat Bernadette snarks as undead Greg stands by her side, both practically on the receptacle containing the garbage sacks.
Konrad Teirant takes a break from cooking the CRASS books to drink down a drink that’s brown, taking along his wife Madeline Topolla-Teirant to the Buckstars, who had left work early at her job mismanaging Kankakee’s Best Low Budget Apartments.
Bored out of his skull, Kon looks to his right and starts chatting up two college students who recently moved to Kankakee from the Middle East. Visions of converting these young, impressionable minds to Flat-Earthers fill the other-wise empty head of the fool that is Mr. Teirant.
“Where are you from?”
“Iraq,” the young lady replies.
“I moved here from Iran,” the Kon-Man bold-faced lies, hoping to gain rapport with the potential converts, using his foolish assumption that all Middle Eastern countries are the same.
“Aren’t you from Aroma Park?” the college student asks.
“Anyway, I own a multiplex here in Bourbonnais. I have traveled all over the world, went down to South America during the pandemic. They let me go despite the travel restrictions…” the grandiose narcissist Konrad continues spinning his played-out yarns, spouse Madeline by his side, staring off into the distance hoping her hubby shuts up.
“And Australia. I would go there, but it’s not a real place. Just a fantasy made up by the globe-heads.”
The two 20-somethings roll their collective eyes.
“The world is flat you see. Take a brochure from me, and get a dollar off a matinee at Cinema-13 if you join The Flat Earth Society.”
The two ladies grab their coffees and go, leaving behind the Kon-man, his wife and the leaflet.
“What is up with that one tenant who never comes our of her apartment? Tamika? She is a mystery. I bet she holds parties in there, has gold bars in her closet and keeps all sorts of gentleman suitors!” the nosey Madeline Topolla-Teirant asks her husband Konrad.
“This is the biggest zit I ever popped! Look at all that fatty oil stuff! Thar she blows!”
“Guys it’s time to partteeeeee!” Kankakee’s Best Low-Budget Apartments Owner, sociopath and dumpster clown Madeline Topolla-Teirant commands as she fakes a smile.
Our first act is The Chickenheads! Rappers Ty-Fowl and D-Fail from 601B and 706B!
A slow clap emerges out of the awkward silence.
“We’re poor, we’re poor and we don’t score.
We’re poor, we’re poor and we don’t score.
Every hoop we shoot is a whiff!
Every shot we make is a miss…”
“Why won’t this go down? Darn it. I forgot this FussPot only takes four sheets of half-ply toilet paper and I used five!”
Tamika Euforia calls her landlord. Kankakee’s Best Low-Budget Apartments’ answering machine picks up. Tamika calls twice more. Sadly, Tamika again goes to voicemail jail.
Meanwhile, her toilet overflows and rains down on the party below.
The crowd screams and disperses. Madeline runs upstairs.
“Oh good, glad you came.”
“What did you put down your toilet?”
“Umm, poop and pee.“
“We were having a party down there and I had to come all the way up one flight of stairs to fix YOUR toilet!” the dumpster-clown huffs, puffs.
“Did I rain on your parade?” Tamika giggles as she leaves her unit, heading up to Chicago to have fun for a change.
Happy June from The Moroniverse! The Midwest lunch bunch carries the weight of the world’s largest carrot on their shoulders. We would like to thank the Universe for all the story-fodder, all that moronic inspiration, and Sybil’s mom JoAnn Kibble.
Sociopath, slumlord and dumpster-clown Madeline Topolla-Teirant wants to change the name of her business Kankakee’s Low-Budget Apartments to hopefully clean up her image and create the impression that she puts people first (even though she clearly does not). Tenants are leaving her sick building in droves and she is losing those almighty Benjamins.
She asks her son Bratley to draw this new logo so she can get out of paying a graphic designer to do it, because she thinks that proposal is bananas.
Kankakee County’s Vaudeville troupe Moronic Half-Assets (MHA) boasts they put people first, as they have all the entertainment with half the budget.
Master of Ceremonies, Cinema-13 owner and CRASS Chief Cook of the Books Konrad Teirant tells really bad jokes. Meanwhile his wife Madeline “Madwoman” Topolla-Teirant juggles chainsaws and tries to balance on a large ball. Robbie Hurlbutt does his best Elvis impersonation
Since their show attendance has been rather non-existent, the Teirants invite their kids Bratley, Chanel # 6 and * to watch the Aroma Park couple and their Kankakee buddy Robbie perform, becoming the first audience members ever.
Since their kids are the only people in attendance that night, the MHA audience again dwindles down to a mere goose egg since they get bored watching their parents’ lame act and walk out.
Catch their tour across the United States (or not):
June 31st 2022 in Gary, Indiana
February 30th, 2023 in Utica, New York
May 32, 2023 in Steubenville, Ohio
Grandiose narc-a-doodle, Cinema-13 owner and CRASS Chief Book Cook Kon Teirant wants to bring in more cinema business, since his $1 off matinees are not bringing in enough people.
“Oh wonderful! My first customer!” Manteno-based entramanure Bern Cacca says of her first dumpster-rental order.
“And now, for some ENTERTAINMENT!” Kon says as his wife, Madeline “Madwoman” Topolla-Teirant emerges from the dumpster, juggling bowling balls.
The usual trickle of patrons arrive at the multiplex.
To step up her act, Madwoman the Dumpster Clown hurls the nine-pound-balls at people, hoping to bring in more customers and their friends.
She has the balls to try it, though it does not really help increase revenue.
Lighting the dumpster on fire, Madwoman has a ball trying to lure in new customers, but all she attracts are police cars and fire trucks.
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.
“Get back in the kitchen, this pot is about to boil over!” Madeline Topolla-Teirant calls out to her husband, Konrad “Kon” Teirant who is reading the CRASS company ledger in the washroom.
Kon washes his hands, flicks the water on the floor (a trick he had learned from Teirant Cinema-13 clerk Damien Hurlbutt) and struts into the kitchen. He sets the ledger atop a shelf in the cupboard.
“Madeline, I can do this myself. No need to tell me how to cook. Go on and watch the kiddos.” Konrad gestures Madeline to leave the room.
Konrad stirs the pot of his turkey soup. He made sure to put in loads of veggies because they cost less than turkey. Konrad hears a loud banshee-esque squeal come from the living room and dashes out.
“Bratley? What are you doing?” Konrad walks over to him.
“Waaaaaaaaaah! I want my toys!”
Konrad yells at Bratley because he has little patience for children. He only had them because he can. He usually leaves the parenting to his wife Madeline because he would rather make money. Meanwhile chaos unfolds in the kitchen.
Chanel # 5 and * climb up the kitchen counters, tear up the CRASS ledger into a confetti mess and put the flakes into the soup like they are special spices. They hear their daddy coming so the close the cover of the book back up and place it back on the cupboard shelf so they do not get in trouble.
“I told you kids not to play on the kitchen counters! Now go do your homework or you are going to bed without any supper!”
Kon begins stirring the pot.
The next morning, all of CRASS is sent a company email to announce the new CRASS initiave:
From: Teirant, Konrad (email@example.com)
To: CRASS, LLC (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Subject: Food for everyone!
Dear CRASS employees:
It is with great pleasure I announce the newest CRASS publicity initiave: Triple down on each call to raise money for the new CRASS Stage! If we raise enough money to name the Kankakee Senior Center stage after us, we can help promote CRASS, LLC as a community leader.
To help celebrate our new publicity effort, I brought in turkey soup, enough for everybody this time! Enjoy! Be sure to only log off during your designated 15 minute breaks to enjoy my cooking.
Most importantly, remember to ask each debtor for three times what they can afford to pay! Submit a Form 5 for each triple-down. Each bonus will go toward the stage-naming initiative to make CRASS look good, instead of your paycheck. You do want to keep your job, right?
“Want some soup?” Dale asks Sybil. “I’ll spoon feed it to you,” a hopeful Dale says with a grin.
“Go away, Dale. I have work to do,” Sybil snarks as she downs a dog biscuit at her desk.
Dale slurps his soup at his desk before he logs onto the autodialer.
Operations Manager Mike Philps helps himself to two bowls while he watches the collectors stress out over asking for three times what the debtors can afford.
“Why aren’t these folks making production?” a stern Tara Bull asks Sybil Kibble as Tara sips some greasy turkey soup.
“I will keep on pushing for those Triple Downs and Form 5s.” Sybil tells a beleagueured Tara.
Kon sits in his office surfing Fakebook Flat-Earth pages as well as the Qannon droppings. He feels his belly begin to rumble. “Must be a quake of this flat planet,” Kon says to himself as he gets up.
A line forms outside the CRASS washrooms. Tara Bull joins the queue. “Why are people taking so long?” Tara mumbles under her breath.
A stench wafts from the mens’ room. Konrad emerges.
“Did I do that?” Kon slyly asks. The lined-up employees giggle.
CRASS Chief Mack. E. Avelli walks over the the office of Mike Philips to order fixed the toilet Kon clogged.
Since Kon’s idea failed miserably, he took the rest of his greasy, tainted turkey soup to Teirant Cinema-13 to “treat” his employees there.
“Ooooh, thank ya boss! Well actually, I just constipated myself by eating six antacids in a row so I do not have to use the toitie all night!” a certain clerk named Damien Hurlbutt excitedly tells Kon.
“Thanks for the information. Enjoy and get to work.”
Damien drinks the soup right down.
“Puttt” goes Damien’s butt.
“Pardon me. Pheeeeeww!”
Damien’s stomach begins to grumble, really grumble. Damien gets up, ripping more farts as he walks and does the Scoot-And-Poot to blast as much gas he possibly can.
Konrad looks for Damien and he is not at the ticket counter.
“Where are you Damien? People are lining up and they need to buy their tickets. Imma gon fire you if you do not come back!”
A stench wafts from the men’s room.