They know what they want, and they want it right now!
Call D. U. Hurlbutt at 500-FART-NOW
They know what they want, and they want it right now!
Call D. U. Hurlbutt at 500-FART-NOW
“He’s a Replicant.” — Deckard
Behold, the Tyrell Corporation’s inferior model Nexus replicants:
Nexus-1 was their Turd Burglar model. All he could do was steal turds out of unsuspecting people’s toilets.
Nexus-2 had the strength and agility of the Nexus-1, and more skills. However, he lacked focus and was very lazy, spending most of his time trying to pick up women and failing.
Nexus-3, lacked the empathy of previous model replicants. He was built to stay on task and had good focus. However, he gained too much weight from eating burgers and fries at the Los Angeles In-and-Out Burger joints and had to be be retired.
Wife of Brandon Dixon (owner of Brandon’s Imbecile Machines) and mother to his kids; Pris is highly nosey, butts into strangers’ business, but does not believe in answering to knocks on the public washroom door. Pris works as a Medical Office Assistant for a Kankakee Ears, Nose, and Throat doctor and has a reputation for purposely confusing patients just to confuse and gaslight them. Pris proudly drives a green imbecile machine she bought from Brandon, branded with “You just got passed by a girl” decals.
Pris was raised by wealthy parents who gave her everything she wanted. Pris feels that, because she is a parent, she should cut in line at the cafes and burger joints. She dislikes the childfree by choice and gets her kicks by invalidating their feelings. Pris feels that only parents can make a valid point, and that life does not begin until you become a mother or father.
Pris was arrested once in Chicago for randomly assaulting a disabled woman on a bus whom she did not know. Pris has been known to wind people up out of boredom and is not afraid of anything or anyone.
Meet Madeline “Madwoman” Topolla-Teirant, wife of CRASS Accounting Chief Konrad “Kon Man” Teirant and mother to his kids.
Madeline met Konrad while drafting up his real estate deeds to ensure no other multiplexes can come to Kankakee. Human Resources Manager and Chief of Security at a low income housing complex, Madeline has a reputation for verbally abusing tenants. The superintendent calls her his “biggest asset”, however the tenants call her other things. Madeline gets her reputation as Madwoman for calling tenants “childish little girls”, literally pointing her fingers and telling them to do their own maintenance.
Madeline loves Nora Roberts novels and spends her free time away from her husband and children, sitting at the local bookstore reading. However, she never spends a penny, putting them all back on the store shelves after she finishes the endings.
Junk email broker, failing film student and sociopath Pat Splatt ventured to the Kankakee Spam convention with his new email harvest collection, hoping to score some new customers. Sadly, Pat was disapponted.
Damien’s photo is hot like a lit fart!
Kankakee student, wannabe filmmaker and socipath Pat Splatt poses for the camera. He sure looks like nice guy, at least he thinks so. What do you think?
“It’s hotter than a boiled owl!” Damien says aloud, as he heads down the stairs to get his mail. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I got my postcards off CBay. I bought over 200 from this guy, one at a time. What a great seller!”
A lady across the way gives Damien the side eye.
Damien logs onto his personal computer, setting atop a wooden folding table. He tries to log onto his alternate Fakebook account, purposely created to stalk his ex-wife Lori, who divorced him because he abused her.
“Oh man, I cannot get on. What is this about getting reported again for violating the terms of service? I did nothing wrong. I am just a nice guy who has no rights. What about us men?” Damien types into the box in response to Fakebook’s “How did we do?” questionnare.
A few minutes pass. “Ding!”
Damien awakes from a deep sleep, all his loud snoring ceases.
Damien jumps up to log onto his computer.
“Hehhhhhhhh…” Damien sighs.
“We have permanently disabled this account due to multiple third-party complaints. Do not attempt to log in again.
— The Fakebook Team.”
“Now this account is crumped. I know! I will just make a new one! That will show them. Hmpf.”
Damien clears his browser’s history, cookies, cache and then reboots his machine. He reloads Fakebook and tries to create a new account under a diffent name so he can continue to harass his ex-wife, because he clearly has nothing better to do with his time.
“We are sorry, Damien. Maybe you should go out sometime and get a life. Do something productive. Get off the internet. We are closing both your accounts due to impersonation.
— The Fakebook Team”
“Those damnedable Fakebook people! They really put poop in my soup! Both my accounts are clunked over! I wish I could zogg over there and give that clump of people a piece of my mind!”
Damien goes into the bathroom, takes a huge crap, does not wipe and heads straight for the shower. He does not believe in wiping. After he gets out, he runs out the bathroom door, leaving a lake of water on the floor in his wake to get a towel.
As Damien dries himself, he shakes off like a dog, getting water all over the living room carpet. He gets an idea. Damien dries his hair and then his manhood with the blowdryer.
Damien gets out his box of 200 postcards and sits down, looking a lot like Homer Simpson in his tighty-whities. He scrawls away into the night.
Weeks go by and Damien wonders why he has not heard back. Damien turns on the television, as he has not been able to log onto Fakebook:
“Breaking news: Alabama lawmakers stalked by a mysterious Bourbannais man. Over 200 postcards containing crude drawings were sent to Alabama politicians opposed to women’s reproductive rights. According to reports, some of the content contained references to so-called ‘MRAs’ or ‘Men’s Rights Activists’, a reactionary group known for their anti-feminist views. Some of the content could not be shown on TV. We will print his address for our viewers’ protection. Back to you.”
Damien gasps. Maybe he should have thought twice about how he has been acting towards other people. Will Damien ever change his ways? Damien gulps down six antacids to purposely constipate himself because he does not like pooping in public.
“Aw, man. I have these diet coffee beans for sale and nobody wants to buy them. All I get are panhandlers asking for money and free coffee. Got any ideas, Pat?” street schemer Doris Krabalsky asks local spammer, Pat Splatt.
“Let me introduce your idea on social media! I have a proven strategy that will certainly win for both of us!”
“This bossbabe is in to win it!”
“I will get cookin”. Pat logs on Instaphoto and begins to look for accounts with thousands of followers or more.
“Look at this account. Lots of videos, but the most liked ones are so weird. The hot videos not so much. Oh, look at this account! Sterling Heights with no culture. I will keep looking” Pat says at a local cafe, as he combs the accounts to target with messages like this:
“Diet coffee colon cleanse – new product to promote gut health! No calories! Ask me how!”
Pat can be heard on the phone with Doris. As Pat puts his phone on speakerphone, a cafe customer catches on to what he is doing and plays the Monty Python Spam song out loud from her tablet. “Where are you?” Doris asks Pat.
“I plan on making big money here. We can make lots together. I can hire people, get them credit and then fire them, not planning on keeping them anyway.” Doris and Pat share a chortle.
Pat looks for Instaccounts to spam inbetween his looking at girls on the dating site Tindling. “She’s not too hot. Swipe left. Ooh look at this Insta account. It has 100k followers.” Pat calls people who did not reply back to his oodles of spams ableist slurs and homophobic slurs as insults. Doris thinks it is funny. The cafe patrons share dirty looks aimed in his direction.
Pat’s Sixerr and Paybuddy accounts keep getting declined. Pat cannot seem to figure out why. He thinks the internet is for spam and that he should be able to help his customers make money under his influence over people.
“It is all good. Don’t worry. It will all work, Doris. Gotta run.”
Pat checks his Instaphoto account. A message pops up: “your account has been terminated for illegal activity.”
“Oh crap! I will just create another account.”
Pat logs onto Instaphoto. “Please enter a credit card.”
Pat tries all his cards. Declined.
The wheel starts spinning. He cannot log on. A young lady approaches him.
“Can I get you something to eat?”
“We have detected via our IP that you have been performing illegal activity. The police are on their way.” The barista informs Pat.
“You, you WOMAN!”
“No use trying to leave, our nice tall ladies guarding the door will stop you. Oh good, police came fast! Yayyyyyy!” The barista claps her hands and the entire cafe erupts in laughter and applause, except for Pat Splatt.