Where There’s Smokey…

“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.

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.”

I Do Not Like Spam

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“I’m With Stupid” reads the graphic tee Leona Krabalsky wears to the Kankakee job fair. She along with her younger sister, Doris, are busy manning their booth.

“I hope we sell truckloads of these here essential snake oils, you oily mama!” Leona slyly says as she slaps her sister on the arm.

“I hope we sell lots of these here business ops too. After all a sucker is born every minute! But don’t tell them that, Bossbabe! Shhhh.” Doris whispers in Leona’s ear.

The day is almost over and the ladies have yet to make a single sale. Tired, hangry and frustrated, Leona grabs her pack of unfiltered smokes and gets ready to head out to burn one. A 40-something gent with long, straggly, dark brown hair and round, blue, plastic glasses approaches the booth. Leona hides her cigarettes away, puts on her cheesiest grin and locks eyes with the only person who approached the booth all day.

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“How may we improve your life today?” Leona says with a huge, fake smile.

“Hi. I am Pat Splatt. Nice to meet you” he says as he tightly shakes Doris’s hand, and clasps his left hand over both hands.

“Our essential oils can change your life.” Doris says to Pat.

“Can they get me la-…dies?” Pat giggles.

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“They sure can!” Doris says with a smile.

“All right!” Pat pumps his fists.

“We have patchouli, try this out, I bet you will love it.” Doris tries to persuade Pat.

“And we can make you rich! Let me tell you about our business opportunity!” Leona chines in.

“And I can make you richer!” Pat exclaims.

“How so?” Leona asks quizzically, finger to her lip.

“I can make sure your oils and opportunities are known by every person with an email address!” Pat says with a smile.

“I tell you what, I will give you that a set of oils in exchange for you marketing our stuff.”

“Deal.” Pat says and the three exchange handshakes.

The next day, Pat goes down to his basement and fires up his email harvester, stealing massive amounts of addresses across the Internet. After loading the addresses, he imports them to his Spam-o-Matic 2000 program.

“I do not like spam. But I do not care. It makes me money and gets me free stuff” Pat says to himself as he clicks the “Send Spam” button.

Over a billion emails spew out Pat’s basement server to unsuspecting people all over the world, advertising Leona and Doris’s unsolicited snake oils and pyramid schemes. Pat kicks back in his dark basement and falls asleep after eating a box of cheese doodles and drinking an entire bottle of pop straight from its two liter bottle.

Meanwhile, Doris and Leona are getting flooded with angry emails and calls.

“Take me off your rotten list!” states one message.

“Stop spamming me! I hate this crap!” writes another.

“Who is this? You’re a moron! There is a special place in Hell for people who send out junk emails!” shouts a third.

Leona and Doris decide they have enough of the thousands of messages and change their contact info.

“That’s a bust. I guess we will have to try telemarketing next,” Leona says to Doris.

“Naaaw, I will go back to selling this stuff on the street like I did before…” Doris snickers and grins.

Sirens are heard in the background and flashing lights are seen. What was that about selling on the street? The world may never know.

Doris Krabalsky Wanna Buy an Oil 2

Sybil Auctions Herself Off

“La di da di daaaaa…” Sybil sings poorly as she logs off the autodialer. She has racked up yet another commission and is in a great mood. “Are you going to help out in the Guys N Gals auction, Sybil?” Clio asks as she hands Ms. Kibble a flyer.

“What’s that about, Clio?” Sybil asks.

“Oh, our Glee Committee came up with it to benefit the Kankakee School District Square Dancing Club. We auction off some of our employees to each other. It is for a great cause. Read the flyer.”

“Hot dog! I’ll be there! Sign me up! Can I go first?” Sybil squeaks.

“We will see. It starts today at 3:30. Employees who volunteer get an hour off,” Clio tells Sybil.

Sybil tosses aside the flyer and pours herself a bowl of dog food for lunch.

A little before 3:30 PM, the CRASS conference room begins to fill. CRASS CEO Mack E. Avelli walks over to the podium and adjusts the microphone.

“Today marks the first annual Guys N Gals auction here at CRASS. Each one of you has an 8.5 by 11 inch piece of card stock with a number printed on one side. When our Accounting Manager, Konrad Teirant calls out a bid, you interested bidders hold up your card. Our first person up for bid is the ever enthusiastic Ms. Sybil Kibble!”

Sybil silently hopes to herself that the ever so suave Dorian wins her.

“Who would like to bid first? Can I get $25?”

The ever so slovenly Dale Davis holds up his card.

Sybil dies a bit inside.

“Can we get $50?”

Mikey Philips from Maintenance holds up his card.

Sybil frowns a bit more.

“Good, we have a couple bids. Let’s get a bidding war going. This is for a great cause. Kankakee Schools, guys. Let’s get $100.00.”

Dale holds up his bid card.

“Great. Can we get “$200?”

Mikey holds up his number.

“How about $400?”

Awkward silence passes for a few seconds.

“$400 going once.”

Sybil gets really nervous, thinking she will have to go home with Mikey. Sybil bites her nails.

“$400 going twice.”

Sybil’s anxiety turns to anger. This totally did not turn out the way she expected. Sybil starts visibly shaking.

“Aaaaand—“

Dorian’s card goes up.

“Great! We have $800.00 now.”

Sybil’s heart beats with excitement. Maybe she will get her date with Dorian at last! Now he has to keep the highest bid!

“$800 going once.”

A smirk begins to form across Dorian’s face.

“$800 going twice.”

Dorian’s smirk widens.

“SOLD!”

“One service worker won by Dorian James! Now Sybil, I am certain you will enjoy doing everything Dorian tells you. Have fun!”

“What? SER-vice? I thought this was a date auction!” Sybil screams.

“This is a service auction, and it is for a great cause, run by the Guys N Gals Glee Club. Now you guys go have fun!” Mr. Avelli tells Sybil.

“I need you to clean my monitor, rearrange my filing system and scrub my fish tank. I am going to keep you busy!” Dorian tells a disappointed Sybil as the two work their way out the door.

New CRASS IT Guy Does Not Give a Crap

It was a beautiful morning for 31 year old Tyrell Fowler of Kankakee. He was about to start his new job with Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS), LLC, his first “real” job since graduating college ten years ago. He was happy to finally have his own place so he did not have to listen to his mother complaining about him living in her basement and not having a job. He has a history of getting fired over his hostile attitude and his unwillingness to take direction, especially from women.

Tyrell chewed eight antacid pills, after pouring them into his mouth like a beer. Tyrell intentionally constipates himself every morning because he has an extreme aversion to wiping. He showers after each dump.

“That was one good breakfast burrito!” Tyrell says to himself. He logs off The Red Pill subreddit, gets into his overly lifted, full-ton truck and heads to his first day as a CRASS Information Technology contractor.

“This will be such an easy job,” Tyrell thought to himself, “Man, CRASS must be the easiest place to work in the world. Anyone can get a job there. Even I can.” Tyrell laughs audibly. He pulls into the CRASS parking lot and signs in.

After being trained as the newest CRASS IT guy, Tyrell cannot wait to start installing the company’s new computers.

“Are you Miss Kiblee?” Tyrell asks.

“It’s Kibble.” Sybil sighs.

“Like the dog food?”

“Okay, you are here with my new computer and your phone is playing really loud music. Can you turn it down?” Sybil asks.

“No, I need it to work.” Tyrell says sternly, thinking he is the boss.

“Look around. See what we do here? We talk on the phone all day to collect debts. That is how we bring in money. We need it quiet here.”

Tyrell turns his phone down a few notches.

“Okay you are here with my new computer, did you bring the new printer too?” Sybil asks Tyrell.

“No, that’s not on the work order. You will have to call Purchasing. I am just a contractor,” Tyrell says and begins to install the computer.

Sybil calls Purchasing and verifies that the printer was indeed ordered. Purchasing asks to speak with Tyrell. Tyrell refuses.

“Tyrell, Purchasing wants to speak with you.” Sybil puts her phone on speaker.

Tyrell reluctantly speaks to Purchasing, who confirms that Sybil was correct. However, Tyrell does not have the printer with him. Meanwhile, the CRASS Chief Information Officer (CIO) calls Tyrell.

“How are the installs going?” the CIO asks Tyrell.

“This lady is terribly rude to me. Do I have to continue to the installation process?”

“This man is lying!” Sybil shouts. “He was rude to me!”

“Here, I will put you on speakerphone” Tyrell says slyly and puts his mobile phone on speaker.

“Hello, this is Sybil. I am Team Lead over here in Collections Management, how are you?

“Just fine, what is going on? the CIO asks.

“Our new recruit is being insubordinate here.” Sybil told the CIO.

“No I am not, she is lying!” Tyrell exclaimed, his belly rumbling now.

“Just get back to work,” the CIO commanded Tyrell.

Tyrell pulls out his cell phone and points it at Sybil. “Sybil I am recording you now.”

Sybil gets out her cell phone. “I am recording you too. I do not consent to being recorded. Turn your phone off.”

Tyrell lies and says his phone is off, however Sybil continues to record Tyrell’s verbal diarrhea as well as the light from his turned over cell phone which she can clearly see. “I gotta run. I am scared. You touched me. I fear for my life. You are hostile. Oh crap, where is the bathroom?”

“I did not touch you. Keep making crap up and I will continue to record it.”

“Quick, Sybil, tell me where the men’s room is! It’s an emergency!”

“That’s not my problem,” Sybil says and laughs. “What’s that smell?” Sybil smirks, looks straight into her phone’s viewfinder, and points it back at Tyrell.

“Argggghhghhhhhhhhh! Crrrrrraaaaaaaaappppp!” Tyrell shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Ppppppppphhhhhhhhhhffffffffffttttttttttt!”

“Now that is something to post online,” Sybil says with a smile.

Needless to say, Tyrell was crap out of a job that day.

Sybil Can’t Fly.

It’s that time again.

Sybil is so excited for the annual CRASS leadership training conference 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.

Miss Sybil has an aversion to flying. She does not plain like it and will not do it.

“I would rather take the train. That is the way to travel.” Miss Kibble barks to Mack E. Avelli, Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) CEO.

“Do what you want, you’re going to do it anyway. Plus 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? “Columbus? Toledo? DeMoranville? This is going to be AWE-some!” Sybil brags, while the rest of the office shakes their collective heads, and sighs.

Sybil has been on her train for 14 hours. She has not slept all night due to the woman behind her who was snoring and the toddler who has been wailing 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 missed her shindig by two hours and took the lonely train home, and her bragging rights with her.

Karma comes back to bite.

Song of the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLy2SaSQAtA

And now it is time for a little story about Sybil and friends. – Jen

—-

“Where have you been?” Sybil barked at Linda Stay as she hovered over her desk.

“I had trouble driving in this weather and barely made it in. We got a foot of snow overnight and it took me over an hour to drive 25 miles,” Linda nervously explained as she set her purse and keys down on her cubicle desk.

“Well, I don’t have four-wheel drive and I made it just fine” snipped Sybil as she berated the beleaguered Linda over her five minute tardiness. “I will mark this as a failure on your bi-weekly production report because attendance needs to be at 100%. You will not qualify for your hourly bonus this pay period. This is unacceptable.

Before Linda could react, Sybil snapped “get on the phones.”
At 11:00, everyone could not wait to get off the phones. Yes, it was a dreaded production meeting which mandated the entire corporation’s presence, regardless of position, an award ceremony which invoked memories and emotions of high school assemblies. However, the collectors would do anything to get off the phones, even for an hour.

“I will get straight to the point. We need to increase production,” said Mr. Mack E. Avelli, Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Compliance Officer. The crowd erupted in laughter when Tara Bull ripped one and crapped her pants.

“Did I do that?” asked an embarrassed Ms. Bull.

“We need to get more bullish!” said Mikey as the crowd continued to giggle.

“Silence!” Mr. Avelli shouted and the room went dead, as if you could cut the tension with a knife.

“Since nobody made production, the employee of the month award is going to go to the person who ranked highest on the quality metric. Without further ado, I present this award to Mrs. Linda Stay.”

The crowd cheered and clapped, that is everyone except for Sybil. She went back to her desk and helped herself to a bowl of dog food. Ahhhh, comfort food. She slowly swallowed down every bit, one bite at a time.

Double Down on Dog Food Instead!

(This story partially inspired by the song Evil Woman by Electric Light Orchestra. I am a huge fan.) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVd4XhtpRBc

Tara Bull, Division Manager of Accounts Receiveable at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) in Kankakee, IL decides in a strategy meeting with Chief of Accounting, Konrad “Big Bag” Teirant and CEO Mack E. Avelli that a good strategy to increase revenue for the corporation would be to increase the bottom line. To achieve that objective, the three senior leaders use their synergetic mindset to implement the new increased production metrics.

Since Ms. Bull is Sybil Kibble’s supervisor, she asks said Lead Collections Representative how her team would best achieve those metrics. “My double-down tactic always works,” Sybil advises her superior. “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.”

Sybil and her team spend the eight hour work day making the calls, even skipping breaks at Sybil’s insistence. Dale none too happy, runs in place at his cubicle to kill the stress. Mikey does his usual cleaning, making the toilets clean and sparkly and did not bat an eye. 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 and make her double bonus/Form 4. 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.

Sybil opens the door to her McMansion. “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 whole thing!

Sybil exits the bathroom, one of many, after bragging about her logs via unintelligible sound effects. She immediately spotts Kitty’s cat Holly on top of what used to be a pile of Form 4’s.

“Oh my gosh, get the heck out of here you little brat-cat! I hate you, you entitled piece of crap!” 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.

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Sybil Sells Snake Oil on the Side?

Sybil will do anything to make a buck. Spotting an ad for an MLM company, she gives it a go. “If the girls at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) can sell essential oils, I can do it too, only better!” Sybil tells herself. “There is a sucker born every minute.”

Wanting to outdo the competition, Sybil creates her own oil to sell. “Essential Snake Oil” Sybil dubs her new concoction, and she labels it “made from real snakes.”
What Sybil does not tell plan to tell her potential customers, is that her product contains no snake content at all. It is made from 100% Canola oil.
“I cannot wait to rip people off! With all the money I make, I can buy lots of dog food for dinner! Yum!” Sybil plots in her head.
The following day, Sybil heads to the cheapest grocery store in Bourbannais to get canola oil. Customers looking for the best deal from nearby Bradley and Sybil’s hometown Kankakee look puzzled as a conniving Sybil fills her cart with gallons and gallons of canola.
As Sybil approaches the cashier with her cart, she can barely move, it is so heavy.
Sybil loads her stash onto the conveyor belt, and the clerk immediately gives Sybil the stinkeye. “You are sure buying a lot of oil there, girl! Are you frying up a bunch of fish?” The clerk giggles, unaware of the scheme Sybil is trying to cook up.

“Okay, ma’am, that will be $413.83.”
Sybil gets out her Diamond Shamrock credit card.
A few uncomfortable seconds pass, which seem like hours in Sybil’s mind.
“What is the matter?” gasps Sybil.
“Declined.”
Sybil’s heart sank.
“This cannot be. Run it again!” Sybil snips.
The clerk ran the card two more times.
“Declined.”
“Get me your manager!” Sybil screams.
“I am the store manager and owner.”
“Why was my card declined?” Sybil asks defensively.
“NSF – Insufficient Funds. Pretty bad for a bill collector like you. There was a time I was down and out and you called my house relentlessly, usually at dinner time. I could not afford to make my payments because you doubled the amount you would accept. Now you are broke. What did you need all that oil for any way? Are you you going to oil a snake or something?”
Sybil backs away with her head down and slowly heads out the door, and to her home alone, in Kankakee.

Security is a Good Thing.

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Dale Francis Davis moved to Kankakee, IL from Snowflake, AZ to seek work after his relationship with Juli-Irma went sour.

His two year engagement with his dear poopiehead, and fellow Snowflake, Juli-Irma went downhill rather quickly when Miss Juli figured out dear Dale’s tablet and mobile telephone password, “password.” In a fit of jealous rage, she discovered that he had one contact other than his mother and his buddies from the town saloon, a Sybil Kibble, and blocked her promptly.

She then destroyed both devices by throwing them in the toilet, perplexed why they did not go down the bowl when she flushed.

A few days later, Dale hit the road to interview for his new position as a Collections Representative at Collections Recovery Associates (CRASS) in Kankakee, IL. He pulled out his new phone and confirmed the time. Today was the first day of the rest of his life.
Dale thanked Ms. Sybil Kibble for the offer, shook her hand and gladly accepted the job.