Tag: screwball comedy

A Very Mad Clown

~ Jen ~ 1 Comment

 

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.

“Sure.”

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.

“Abby!” 

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.

“Madeline!”

“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.

 

Move Over Damien!

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Bourbonnais cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narcissist Damien Hurlbutt is happy to finally have a new girlfriend to impress with his lovebombing of gifts, Miss Rachel Shelley of Detroit. Too bad for him, he cannot see the thought bubble next to him, as she dreams about her other lover, Kankakee druggie Leon Peeonne.

Home Shopping Channels and Chill

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“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! Home Shopping Channel is about to show a whole hour of carpeting! I get to watch m’ladies walk on them BAREFOOT!” Bourbonnais cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narcissist Damien Hurlbutt exclaims, drools.

Waste Removal

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Shady Bourbonnais neckbeard and communal narcissist Damien Hurlbutt went dumpster diving the morning after he and his part-time lover from Detroit, Rachel Shelley, got into a bitter fight and she threw some of his hoarded items into the dumpster.

“Dumpster! Dumpster! Dumpster!” Rachel cried as she chucked Damien’s hoard into the metal hopper outside his apartment.

As Damien dug for the treasures he loved more than his woman, little did he notice the danger lurking behind him.

Spam Does Not Pay

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“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?” Kankakee 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?”

“No.”

“Drink, then?”

“No.”

“We have detected via our IP that you have been perfoming 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.

Dale Sits in the Corner

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Credit Recovery Associates, LLC (CRASS) Bill Collector Dale Davis sits in the company break-room corner, all by his lonesome, wishing his boss / crush Sybil Kibble would come join him. He never asked her, just assumed.

He cut his hair and shaved his moustache just for her. Oh darn.

Damien is a Star Now.

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Damien Hurlbutt, movie clerk for Teirant Cinema-13, stars in their new TV commercial. Can you feel his enthusiasm?

“I know.”

— Damien.

Lunacy Letter From Damien

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Illinois neckbeard, communal narcissist and movie theater clerk Damien Hurlbutt went off the deep end when his then-wife, Lori, stopped tolerating his verbal abuse and rightfully left him.

He sent this letter to her psychologist and her psychiatrist after she separated from him. Apparently, this ticket clerk thought he knew more about psychology than the licensed clinicians who practice. The latter provider called it a “lunacy letter.” The former said she had never seen anything like it in all her years practicing.

Who makes up this stuff?

Oh yeah, people with Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD).

Lunacy Letter from Damien

Robbie’s Number One Video

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Kankakee Elvis impersonator, covert narcissist and little stinker Robbie Hurlbutt sees a lot of himself in Robbie Rotten. After all, he is Number One!

Hard Time

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“Man, I had a hard life,” Kankakee drug addict and all-around loser Leon Peeonne says to fellow junkie Rachel Shelley, as they glare aimlessly into the flatscreen television setting ahead of them.

“Where did you get that rad TV?”

“Fell off a truck,” Leon chortles as they share a laugh and two partners in crime wrap their arms around each other.

Rachel’s ringer goes off.

“It’s Damien…” Rachel sighs.

“That moron? Send him to voicemail.”

Rachel sneaks off into the washroom.

“Where are you?” a grumpy Damien asks.

“I am out.”

“I heard some noise in the background. What are you doing, M’lady, Madame?”

“Business.”

“Okay honey puddin’, just checking up on you.” Damien slyly says.

“For the last time, don’t call me that!”

“I only say it because I love you!” Damien replies.

“I am leaving for Michigan next week, and I just got here. I gotta go.”

“Okay honey pudd—“ Beep.

Damien hears a dial tone and cannot figure out why. He goes back to cloning movie tickets using the company printers.

Rachel joins her secret lover on the couch.

“MANTENO CHILD ON THE SPECTRUM GETS HER WISH”

“Oh, look how sweet!” Rachel says sarcastically.

“I bet that DIDN’T fall off a truck.” Leon snarks.

“This brave little girl has been the victim of bullies all her life. So local charities stepped in and bought her a Playtendo and 10 games to go with it.

‘I am so happy now. I can’t wait to play all these! Thank you!’ says 10 year old Anna of Manteno.”

“Awwww, sucks to be her, she was bullied. Hey, they showed her address. Maybe we can steal her crap?”

“Maybe we can. And then we can get her mom to post about it on my mental health group on Fakebook, so I can harass her there, too!” Rachel shares with Leon and they both giggle a little too much…way too much. Then they shoot up.

Rachel drives Leon in her rental car over to Manteno searching for the home of the 10 year old they just saw on TV so they can steal her Playtendo to sell for drug money.

“I think this is it.” Rachel says to Leon as she spies the house she saw on the news. She parks the car around the corner, walks up to the ranch and rings the doorbell. A gentleman answers.

“Oh hi. We are volunteers from Kankakee County and wanted to pay a mental health visit. Can we come in?” Rachel asks the gentleman.

“I will ask my wife.”

A few minutes elapse, and the two tresspassers are still standing in the doorway. An older lady can be seen walking on the sidewalk.

Some commotion is heard coming from inside the house; typical kids.

Rachel’s phone rings. She ignores it. It continues to ring.

“What do you want?” Rachel asks Damien.

“I’m home!”

“Yeah? So?”

“Aren’t you gonna come see me, Honey Puddin’? I have presents!”

“Damien, I am busy right now”. Rachel hangs up her phone.

“Okay you guys need to leave.”

“Can we come in for a minute? I promise we won’t be long.” Leon says to the mother.

“Leave now, or I am calling police.”

The older lady off in the distance, looking vaguely familar to Leon, is on her phone.

“Okay. We will leave. Here is a brochure for our great mental health group on Fakebook.”

“Take your group and shove it. We have a great neuropsychologist and are doing fine.”

Sirens are heard and flashing lights are seen.

Leon and Rachel hurl some colorful language at the family.

“Would you use those words in front of your mother?” The girl’s mom asks Leon and Rachel.

“Let me tell you about my motha!” Leon deadpans as he reaches for some object in his jean pocket known only to him. A cop on scene grabs Leon’s hands, pins them to his back and reads him his Miranda rights.

“That’s mah boy!” a nearby Leona Krabalsky snarks. “Lock him up!”

“Ma?” Leon screams as he is hauled away.

Leon is charged and later convicted of attempted burglary, heroin possession with intent to distribute, disorderly conduct and unlawful possession of a firearm.

Damien continues to call Rachel back at her home in Detroit and she continues to not give a crap.