MoronicArts Classics: MHA Sounds the Alarm

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. 

Happy Birthday Robbie Hurlbutt!

Kankakee drugstore clerk, Elvis impersonator and vulnerable narc-a-doodle Robbie Hurlbutt turns 47 today! We hope his birthday is number one.

Robbie sells selfies on the street.

Don’t Get Hacked!

Press your buttons and land on one of these great prizes. But don’t land on Lizzie Borden, she’ll put an axe to all your winnings!

Coming November 31st to The Manteno Optimal Club

Let us hear, hear from our donors!

“I donated a whole buttload of freshly mined craptocoins because I’m so generous like that! I even designed the game board! You can win a date with yours truly, also! Free admission, with just a two drink minimum. Tip generously or I’ll shove the gratuities jar in your face!”
— Bernadette M. Cacca, owner of Peppi’s Portapotties and (very) part-time actor.

“I donated this trip to Gary, Indiana to let everyone know that was where my dear boy Robbie was conceived!”
— PJ Hurlbutt, retiree

“Ma, shut the heck up!”
— Robbie Hurlbutt, clerk at Wally Green’s


MoronicArts Classics: Robbie’s Singing the Bathroom Blues

Kankakee, Illinois’ number one Elvis impersonator, Wally Green’s drugstore clerk and vulnerable narcadoodle Robbie Hurlbutt has a huge crush on Midnight Supremes lead singer Gothic Diana Ross who isn’t remotely attracted to him, plus she has a boyfriend. He wants to make a huge impression on her because he does not understand the word “no.”

She has a gig coming up soon and he is scheming to find a way to connive his boss, store owner Wally Green into letting him hang up her show poster at work to promote her music as he thinks it will somehow make her like him. 

”Hey Robbie, have a look at these paper towels I invented just for my store: Half the size, twice the cost. All the frustration when you go to rip off a sheet, thanks to me!” boasts a balding, squat, rotund Wally Green as he tips his fishing cap.

“I know, boss, let’s put them on a groovy display table near the front of the store so the suckers — I mean customers — will think they are getting them on sale.”

“Great idea! I am glad I thought of it!” Wally exclaims with glee, throwing his stubby arms into the air.

“Well…now that I, boss, thought of such a splendid idea, I have a favor to ask. This band is really a gas and I want to hang up their poster for their upcoming show at the store,” Robbie says to his superior with bedroom eyes, dreaming of Miss Gothic Diana Ross, the only Boss he could ever want.

“Naw. Get back to work. I need you to make production metrics this time. Start selling people some pills they don’t need.”

Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Lead Debt Collector Sybil Kibble comes into Wally Green’s Drugstore to buy an iced coffee and a bag of dog biscuits for lunch as she forgot hers at home.

“Ehh. Out of order again. Must be that half ply toilet paper,” Sybil thinks out loud.

“The washroom is on the blink?” Robbie asks, aghast.

“Yeah and I am in a hurry!” Sybil shouts as she makes her way over toward the men’s room.

“Do not go in there!” Robbie commands Sybil.

Sybil walks by Gothic Diana Ross in the men’s room, who is looking in the mirror, applying her jet-black eyeliner. She pinches a huge loaf in the stall next to Wally Green, who is busy whizzing away in the urinal. Sybil flushes but does not clean up the mess on the seat, flinging the door wide open with her arm. She makes a beeline for the sink and spots Diana sarcastically chortling away at the Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes poster on washroom wall.

A befuddled Robbie struts into the men’s room. 

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME IN HERE!” Robbie shouts at the women. “THIS IS THE MEN’S ROOM.”

“Get back to work, Robbie, the ladies’ room is closed. Take down this poster while you are at it and apologize to our customers.” Wally Green tells his employee Robbie.

“I am sorry IF I offended you.” Robbie smirks.

“Get lost!” Diana and Sybil chant in unison at his non-apology as they leave the bathroom.

Sybil buys her lunch and drives back to work.

Wally sells loads of paper towels and Robbie is put on temporary janitorial duty until he improves his customer service skills. But don’t lock him in the bathroom. He thinks he is Elvis.

MoronicMerch helps pay the Moron bill.

We here at MoronicArts need to pay monthly to help feed, clothe and water the denizens of the Moroniverse. If you like these idiots well enough to wear them on your sleeve, please consider buying one of official MoronicArts.com shirts:

https://www.teepublic.com/user/moronicarts

“Great gift idea!”
— Sybil Kibble, Kankakee

Or maybe buy some mixed moronic arts? (Not the Scary Barry type) https://jenxmusic.bandcamp.com/

Only 1.50 a pop — CHEAP!

The Moroniverse thanks you!

Putting the Gary in Robert Roy Gary Hurlbutt

Ever want to know where wannabe ladies’ man, covert narcadoodle, and Kankakee’s Number One Elvis impersonator Robert Roy Gary Hurlbutt was conceived?

Neither does he. Robbie’s mother PJ Hurlbutt loves to remind her son where she got one of his two middle names in front of his boss, customers and potential girlfriends the groovy time she and his father N. Ron had one night in early 1978.

Opinions Are Like Buttholes, Bernadette.

Business is crappy at Peppi’s Portapotties and there has been a brownout at the spectacle known as the Manteno Optimal Club. Despite offering “free tickets” to Robbie Hurlbutt, Madeline Topolla-Teirant, Konrad Teriant, Judi Avelli, her mother Carla and the Cheshire Cat, nobody’s falling for the “two drink minimum” scam anymore.

Needing take make extra dough, bog witch, communal narcadoodle and entramanure Bernadette Moran Cacca applies for a job at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS), the company at which nearly all of Kankakee County has worked at one time. She is so good at annoying people that Clio Bersola hires her right on the spot.

“Would you like take a survey?” Bernadette asks her first caller. “You have been specially selected because your opinion matters!”

“Would you like take a survey?”

“Would you like take a survey?”

“You have been specially selected.”

“Your opinion matters!”

Instead of hounding people for money or craptocoin tips, the wrestler once known as The Manteno Wonder haunts CRASS debtors and creditors with survey spam.

The calls go on and on.

“Is she that weird lady who works down at that Manteno port-o-dump facility?” Dale asks Polly.

“Oh yeah, I see her on TV all the time. Those ads drive me crazy!

“Just another day in Kank!”

The collectors share a chuckle.

“Good job, keep it up. You’re the only person who applied for this job, so we hired you. What’s your name again?” Sybil says.

“Don’t you know who I am?” the show-tune cover queen and portapotty empress Bernie asks her boss.

“Um…no. That’s why I asked you.”

“I do the charity gigs at the Manteno Optimal Club! I sing showtunes, play piano and blow vuvuzela horn.”

“Well don’t blow this job.”

Sybil goes to Schmucks a few days later to stock up on her Alpo meals. Not finding good deals on her favorite food, she walks across the street to the Wally Green’s and gets one can at regular price and another for half-off (but never free). While browsing the Sleevies, StrangleTangles and Turd Machine Deluxes, her new employee runs up to her as if to hug her, unfortunately.

“Hi there, my fabulous boss!”

“I’m busy.”

“Let me drive you home.”

“No thanks, my car is a block away from here.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have to drive in the rain.”

Not wanting to isolate her new hire, Sybil reluctantly wheels her doggie bags to the trunk of Bernie’s poopmobile and gets in front. Before she has a chance to close the car door, let alone don her seat belt, Bernadette peels out of the Wally Green’s parking lot.

“Slow down there…Nelly.”

“My name’s not Nelly.”

“OK, just drop me off at Schmucks. I took the preggers parking spot. Nobody’s gonna look inside my womb to verify.”

Bernadette loads the heavy cans into Sybil’s car.

“Call me if you need anything, pal!”

“Yeah sure, thanks!”

Sybil drives her white Chrysler LeBaron home, makes sure the oil is not low, and carries her suppers inside. While munching on some milk bones, Sybil checks her voicemail.

“This is a reminder call for: Sybil Kibble. You have a colonoscopy scheduled in three weeks. Please call us back to confirm your appointment. Be sure to have a driver because you cannot legally drive the day of your procedure.”

“Oh crap. I forgot about that.”

Trying to find someone to bring you to a procedure is as bad as finding people to help you move.

Sybil calls down to her mother and asks if she can bring her.

“No, I’m playing Bingo with the girls that day,” JK yells up to her daughter from her basement apartment’s air vent.

She reluctantly calls Dale Davis, even though she’s the object of his unwanted affection.

“No boss, I have to work that day. You scheduled me, remember?”

Out of options, The Kibbler texts The Manteno Wonder.

“Oh yeah, I will take the day off just for you.” Bernadette replies, then she poops.

Bernadette repeatedly texts Sybil daily to ask if she needs any supplies, toilet paper or liquids. However, Sybil says no thanks to the offers, except for the dog food one.

“My two favorite words, free food!” Sybil tells Mrs. Cacca.

“You’re the best!”

Something does not feel right about her newly found friend (not to be confused with Newly Formed Turds). “How can someone be so fond of me, so quickly?” Sybil writes in her diary. “I walk away from her with a funny taste in my mouth but I cannot quite put my finger on it.”

The weather has cooled off a bit in the two-and-a-half weeks which have passed. It’s Friday night after a long, stressful week at work, and Sybil is happy to be back at her Kankakee home.

“Can you come over and check to see if I locked my door?” Bernadette texts, asking about her shack up in Manteno.

Sybil plays The Crushing Candy Game for an hour and then texts Bernie back, “yeah, it’s locked” before going back to her phone, then watches some Unsolved Mysteries.

Sybil texts Bernie to ask for some toilet paper, however she gets no reply.

She shoots another text: “I’ll give you a ten.”

Another hour passes, so she sends out her ma to get the TP instead.

It’s the Sunday before her procedure. Between potty runs, Sybil texts Bernadette to confirm the time tomorrow. An hour passes, no answer. She calls Bernie, who answers after the third try.

“What do you want?” Bernadette snarks.

“I’m just calling to confirm the time you’re come getting me.”

“Just have them call me when you’re ready. I’m not going in.”

“You ARE bringing me TO and FROM my procedure right?”

“I have to meet someone by 9:30 for a portapotty job.

“OK, just pick me up at 8:45.”

“That’s fine. But I’m not signing any paperwork.”

After a very long, sore night, it’s now the bottom of the hour on colonoscopy day.

Bernadette peels onto Sybil Lane and into Ms. Kibble’s driveway.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’ve been going all night!”

Awkward silence passes.

Bern Cacca — the proud G.G. Allin fan and craptocoin miner — does not even flinch at Sybil’s poop joke.

“Just give me directions.”

Despite looking so good on the outside by giving her a lift, the charity-side-show-queen Bernadette does not even bother to ask Sybil how she’s feeling.

“Just have them call me. But, I’m not signing any papers.”

“What do you mean by not signing papers, if you don’t mind I ask?”

“I don’t want to sign anything I don’t know what I’m signing up for.”

“They might need you to sign a discharge paper, to say you are picking me up, that’s it.”

“That’s fine.”

“I’ll have them call you.”

Bernadette still does not even ask Sybil how she’s feeling, and instead pulls away. Sybil enters the outpatient facility to bravely face the her anal probe alone.

The procedure goes well. Sybil enjoys the best 10 minutes of sleep ever, and then awakens in the recovery room full of people fart-fart-farting away.

“Good news, Ms. Kibble. I circled Uranus and found no Klingons.”

“Great news doc. Have you got ahold of my ride?”

“We’ll have the nurse keep trying.”

Eventually Bernadette pulls into the outpatient facility.

“Slow down!” the guard warns her.

Sybil Kibble gets wheeled to Bernie’s car and she gets in. “How’d it go?” Bernie asks Sybil.

“It went well. No abnormalities.”

“Did they use real anesthesia?”

“No…just the Fisher Price kind.” Sybil deadpans.

“Great, let’s get you home.”

Bernadette spends the whole ride home complaining about “the sky poop” and her online battles with people who “don’t get her revolutionary ideas,” because “it must be that Manteno water,” while explaining in detail every little chore she has done for CRASS, The Poopy Groupies and The Manteno Optimal Club.

What doesn’t Bernadette do? Ask Sybil how she’s feeling, of course. Instead she peels into the Kibble homestead’s driveway, dumps Sybil on her doorstep like a turd, peels out and waves, evil grin showing off the barely good deed she did for a fellow citizen. She cannot wait to brag about this all over Fakebook and Instaspam!

Mrs. Cacca shows up for work at CRASS the next day, walks in the door bright and cheery, mouth wide open as if to catch a fly, eyes as cold as always to hide her daily fear and self-loathing. She struts right by Sybil’s cubicle, and toward Marketing until Sybil calls her name at the top of her lungs:

“B. M. Cacca, come to my cubicle now!” The call center floor giggles.

Bernadette sits down at her desk in Marketing, defying her boss’ orders.

“Bern Cacca, please see Sybil Kibble immediately,” Accounts Receivable Chief Tara Bull calls over the intercom.

Bernadette chooses to ignore the page, so Sybil walks over to her instead, stack of papers in hand.

Sybil faces Bernadette.

“Your position has been eliminated due to lack of business needs. Resign immediately or be terminated.”

“I told you, I’m not signing anything!”

“OK. You’re fired. You have a 30 minute window to clean out your desk before Security escorts you out the door.”

“I WANT to SPEAK to the MANAGER!”

“I AM the manager.”

“No, YOUR MANAGER!” Karen — err — Bernadette, cries, throwing a toddler-tantrum.

“I’m giving you five minutes to leave,” a tall, fit, medium skinned woman wearing box braids demands.

“Do you know who I am?” Bernadette asks.

“No, do you know who I am?”

“I need the manager STAT!”

“I AM the manager. Leave now before we prepare the trebuchet.”

“Can I go to the washroom first?

“That’s it!”

A tiny violin is heard over the intercom, then Sybil’s voice commands: “YEET!”

The entire company cheers as Bernadette gets flung to lawd-only-knows-where.

“I wonder how she is feeling now?” Ms. Kibble giggles to herself before taking another supervisor call.

I can grab things off the bottom shelf, unlike these guys: Creator of the Moroniverse

Daily writing prompt
How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?

What the Frickfrick?

“Where the heck has Sonya been?”

“Uhh, a little birdy told me she was last seen near Area 51 in Nevada.” Bog witch, entramanure and communal narcadoodle Bernadette Moran Cacca says to her shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture and self-righteous narc mother Carla.

“Who? Was it my cousin Jackie? He flies by all the time but not once, even once, ever says hi.”

“Who’s that?”

“Oh you know him, you met him when you were five at grandma’s house.”

“I have no idea, it was just a rumor…”

“I’m picking up all this stuff here at her house…”

“Oh wow, ma, anything for me? Anything worth beaucoup bucks?”

“Nope. Everything I’m picking up I’m THROWING OUT!” the angry bird says with great pride (but not the good kind). Why couldn’t I get a free trip to Area 51?”

“Maybe she got a job there, I dunno…”

“I’ve applied there over and over, and heard nothing. Why does SHE get to go there but not ME? MUST BE NICE.”

Feathers ruffled, Carla Moran starts flapping her wings and cursing.

“Maa, y’know I have you on speakerphone.”

“Nevermind!”

“Why don’t you come down to the Manteno Optimal Club and compete in our poetry slam?”

“You know I hate poetry, and it’s a long way from Eastern Indiana”

“Oh come now, it’s for a good cause!”

“We’ll see…”

“I’d love to see my mother again. Won’t you do it just for me? You do love me right?” the hag gaslights.

“Okay! Okay! Okay! Enough!”

“Great see you Sunday.”

“Roger that!” Pamela Frickfrick laughs to her twin sister Becca who has been eavesdropping on her neighbors from across the block.

“Our newly installed Frickfrick towers are working pretty darned good I say. When are your grandkids coming over, Becca?”

“Today. Can you watch them?”

“I gotta work at Credit Recovery Associates. You know, that CRASS job I got a few months ago.”

“Isn’t it illegal for bill collectors to call on weekends? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“You’re a CRASS bill collector too, you should know!”

Pamela storms out the door of her Manteno home and wanders on over to see what kind of dookie she can stir up over at the house of Cacca.

Bernadette is sitting upstairs pooping and singing a song of stupidity, therefore Pamela seizes the opportunity to do something even crappier. After all, it’s all a competition for these bored bitties. “Oh look a bowling ball!” Pamela hoists the lawn ornament from Bernadette’s house over on Kant Street to hers on Ken Street so it can grow legs.

She rolls the ball, striking her garage wall, sparing her from having to buy one herself. Then she goes out on another Moronquest.

Pam spots the slate Victorian mansion of Gothic Diana Ross and The Midnight Supremes. “Oh how handsome, a knight in shining armor. I think it fell off a truck,” Pamela thinks aloud as she hauls the decorative swordfighter over to her home to live instead. “Maybe I’ll dress him up to look like the king instead, the King of Rock and Roll!”

Pamela drives over to Wally Green’s to hopefully buy gaudy jewelry, a blue-black wig and fake sideburns to decorate her new man. Wandering around the store, two clerks circle around her asking eight times each if she needs help, despite her having said no the first time.

“Oh shoot-a-darn. I forgot to get my meds, where’s the pharmacy hun?”

The clerk points his arm toward the back of the store and a large cartoon of Wally’s silly grin.

After waiting in line for 25 minutes, Pamela finally makes it to the pickup window.

“Pamela Frickfrick”

“Sorry, we’re still working on it. Give us 20 minutes,” says her crush, Kankakee Elvis impersonator and pharmacy tech Robbie Hurlbutt.

Mrs. Frickfrick wanders around the store to buy some crap she does not need, only to circle back to her number one singer.

“We have a P and C at Pharmacy. Pharmacy, we have a P and C.”

“What’s that?” Pamela asks Robbie.

“Someone’s just dropping off a specimen over at the lab.”

“OK. Now tell me, do you have vaccines for FIV?”

“FIV? You mean HIV.”

“No. FIV. It’s a disease that cats can get and I don’t want to catch it.”

“Umm, we don’t have a vet clinic here, sorry ma’am.”

“It’s for me. You sell shots here right?”

“Of gin?”

“No, I don’t drink any darn alcohol. I just wanna shot so I don’t get FIV.”

“Lady, you can’t get FIV from cats!” a passerby shouts, then shakes her head as she walks away.

“Robbie, you are the sexiest man on earth. Don’t you know anything about what you sell? You are smart for your age.”

“Ummm, I am 47. I grow the same boogers as you.”

“You need to respect your elders! I am 74 and a lot older than you. Get me the manager now!”

“I AM the manager,” Robbie lies.

“Well imma gonna done call ICE and report you for being friendly to migrants when I go home. I am no longer your biggest fan!” Pamela breaks down and cries all the way across Kankakee County.

Meanwhile Keysha, Aaliyah and Cedric are playing in their gramma’s house. “Where did she get this bowling ball?” little Keysha asks her siblings as tries to lift it.

“I dunno, but let’s see how much damage it can do on this knight!” Cedric says, grabbing the 12 pound ball as he begins to throw strikes.

The two girls run into the backyard.

“Oooh, legos!” the kids cry, as they tear apart the red-and-white antenna array.

“A prize inside! Is this a radio?

“No, it’s just a dumb baby monitor.” Gothic Diana Ross tells the kids, having walked over looking for her missing lawn ornament.

“Hey kids, where’s your grandmother?”

“I dunno.”

“Is she home?”

“No.”

“Is anybody home?”

“Just us…”

Concerned about the thefts — and more importantly — the kids’ welfare, the Gothic Boss Ms. Ross calls the police.

The Kankakee police eventually locate Pam walking along the sidewalk somewhere in Bradley, carrying a red metal container.

“Are you Pamela Frickfrick?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Where are you headed, ma’am?”

“I had forgotten to fill my tank when the yellow light illuminated and I’m looking for a filling station.”

“Where did you get this bowling ball?” the cop asks as she shows her a photo from her phone.

“It rolled over one night when he had storms. Why?”

“And this metal knight?

“Oh he walked over to my house. I promise I did not steal him from his girl. I didn’t do anything.”

“Nope, you didn’t. We dispatched an officer to your home to find three children abandoned.”

“This is not fair! I’m a senior citizen who pays your salary! I know the mayor!”

“We know the mayor too,” the policewoman says as she handcuffs the town Frickfrick and reads her Miranda rights.

(This story dedicated to a special friend who loves cats).

Artificial Stupidity

Kankakee pyramid-scheme peddlers Doris and Leona Krabalsky are tired of standing on street corners and bugging hospital patients by pushing their useless woo oils, moldy-buttery-softlined-leggings and investments you can re-sell to your friends out of their trenchcoats.

“We are getting old and living on a fixed income. Our knees are wobbly, our hair is grey–“

“We are a retail store and not allowed to alter prices,” floor clerk Robbie Hurlbutt replies.

“Wait till you get to our age, sonny. You should respect your elders!”

“OK Karens!”

Not happy with their collective egoes once again deflated, the sinister sisters walk about the store.

“Hey, what’s this? My…wail-eee.”

“Miami?”

“My…my…hey would ya look at this! It might pert near dang work!”

The bumbling bullies read the box:

“Are your sales running flatulent? Get MyW-AI-LY, a degenerative-AI program to automatically poop out marketing schemes to sell anything you want, even a half-eaten sandwich! We don’t care what it is. Pivot, and walk that passive sidestream income over by doing almost nothing. Our state of the art Artificial Imbecilics will match up your target audiences using our potential spyware with the things YOU insist THEY must have! Forget those influencers! They’re too expensive and boring. Designed by none other than that wannabe Kankakee ladies’ man himself, the eye in this sky is Mr. Wally Green. He says this product will change your life, he uses it too! It’s his newest invention — and it’s on sale. Feel the power…of the funneling steamed hams backwashing income straight into the mouths of bossbabes like you! Never ruin your roast again! This product description was artificially genrated by MyW-AI-LY.”

“Why hire humans to sell our leftovers when we can hire Roy Batty to do it instead?” Doris Krablasky asks her sister Leona.

“I dunno, I kinda like that Leon guy better. He reminds me of myself!” The two shysters share a giggle while they plot their evil plans.

“Buy one get one half off, but never free. Why not? One for your computer and one for mine, a matching set. Awwwww, how cute. It even comes with a CrapApp and it matches our decor!”

The octogenerians take their newly found program to their basement and try their best to run the software on their Commodore 64, to no avail.

“Do I type R-U-N and then return?”

“No, it says press any key.”

“Where’s the ANY key?”

The forgetful duo call up their old buddy Pat Splatt.

“Yo, it’s Pat.”

“Hey hun!”

“Yes, lady, what must I do ya fer?”

“I got this program I need you to run.”

“I’m busy finishing up a project”

“I need unfettered access to this program right now so I can start making big bucks.”

“No Whammys?”

“Uhh no, hun.”

“I love money, benjamins are my cuddle buddies. I’ll be right over.”

Mr. Splatt drives the Patmobile over to the small geodesic pyramid-shaped domain shared by the pyramid-plan-peddling sisters, installs it on their Winduhs laptop that they happened to get free after buying a washer-dryer set some time back.

“Just set up the prompts, let the bot do the work, you sit around the clock and collect the bucks — plus my 20 per cent.”

“No, WRONG, Pat you get only 10 per cent.”

“OK, make it 50. I’m giving an offer you can’t refuse.”

The ladies get busy hunting-and-pecking, letting the artificial stupidity carry out their very human shenanigans, which people begin to notice.

SUBJECT: “Open up for your new health insurance benefit!”

“ I can sure use the money” Bernadette Moran Cacca thinks aloud as she reads the subject line while pinching a loaf, then clicks to open the email.

“Weight loss? What the heck? Yeah…no!”

SUBJECT: “Get $5 haircuts with the device Nobody wants you to see! Open now!”

“What on Earth would I do with this vacuum-hose thingamajig? I’m bald!” Barry Reynolds screams at his phone, then slams it down on the hard concrete floor, smashing it to bits.

SUBJECT: “Make beaucoup bucks with this one simple trick! Slots open now!”

“We all have jobs, thank you, miss Krabalsky…” Gothic Diana Ross deadpans in her dark bedroom, decorated with band posters, black hanging beads and the text “IN GOTH WE TRUST.” She dims the lights, then deletes the thinly veiled canned commercial content from her cell.

The Krabalksys hold a meeting.

“I got home as soon as I could. I got done chased by them cops again from underneath the 57 exchange while trying to make a sale. “

“It’s not working.”

“Why are we losing money again? I thought we were supposed to get large gains this time! We cut out the middle-man!”

“Call up that nice boy Pat. He knows what to do.”

Leona picks up her flip-phone, slowly dials the chunky, illuminated numerals.

“This is Patrick Oswald Splatt.”

“Hi hun, we have a problem.”

“Leave a message after the bleep and—“

“Oh, another one of those machines again. I hate machines. They ruin everything! They ruin everything, everything, everything! Back in our days we all shared a phone, the entire block only had one television, and no-one had a computer!”

The sisters take turns pestering Pat. After they spend 30 minutes ringing his phone off its invisible hook, Mr. Splatt picks it up.

“I am in the washroom taking a crap! Can ya call me back?”

“Oh, I’ll only take a minute with this one very simple question.”

“No minutes left, you ran out.”

“Huh?”

“You owe me my consult fee plus additional charges for expediting your non-emergency. Pay up or else!”

Then Pat flushes.

“Hello! Hello! Where are you? Is it snowing in there? What’s that noise? Your TV on the fritz? It’s making this weird beeping sound. Is that ya microwave?” the sisters keep shouting into the void on a recursive loop.

“I think it’s broken. Imma gonna lie down after playing some Solitaire.”

Leona lays down the cards onto her wooden desk and begins to play, while Doris falls fast alseep on her polyester, dusty-rose-patterned sofa, sawing not only wood but an entire forest.