We want to TP everyone in Kankakee! On April 1st, come over to the headquarters of CRASS and get the scoop on poop! One brand spankin’ new roll for each customer! If you use both sides, it lasts twice as long!
Act now, before you get the runs, I mean we run out!
CRASS Chief Executive Officer
Mack E. Avelli
https://www.facebook.com/crassllc
PS: April Fools!
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.
“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 contines 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 use some colorful language at the family from whom they were trying to steal.
“Would you use those words in front of your mother?” The mother 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 not to care.
K3 morons Damien Hurlbutt-Head and Robbie “Beavis” Hurlbutt eat snacks and drink beer on the couch while watching music videos on television.
“This sucks, change it!” — Damien Hurlbutt-Head
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Sybil Kibble thinks these two budgies should get a room. The TV guy agrees.
“Fifth time today. Who is this moron?” Kankakee student and barista Ant D. Yu asks his partner.
“Hang up.” Dorian James says to Ant.
“Brandon’s Imbecile Machines. That’s is. I am blocking these fools.”
A knock is heard and Ant checks the peephole. The uninvited guest pounds the doorknocker.
Ant opens the door.
“Oh, hi Sybil.”
“Hey Ant. Do you have any dog food? I am hungry.”
“No Sybil. I told you before. Our family does not have a dog. But thanks for stopping by.”
“Okay. I did not know if you guys got one now.”
“Have a good day Sybil.”
Ant closes the door and a disappointed Sybil Kibble heads back to her McMansion down the street.
Sybil’s phone rings as she strides home. After she walks into one of her three garages, she checks her caller ID:
“BRANDON’S IMBECILE MACHINES
KANKAKEE, IL”
Sybil sees that this entity has called twelve times in the past three days and because of this, she blocks their number from calling again. She then heads inside and munches down on some dry doggie chow.
Gothic Diana Ross, a Kankakee singer and impersonator, is busy pulling up her black fishnet stockings when her phone lights up.
“Who is this?” Di thinks to herself and checks her screen.
“Brandon’s Imbecile Machines? Block.”
Di stares in the mirror for ten minutes, puts on her eyeliner, then starts listening to her own singing.
Brandon Dixon, owner of Brandon’s Imbecile Machines, is getting frustrated by the lack of response to the new phone campaign for his lifted truck lot. He remembers a tactic he had learned during his tenure at Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) in Kankakee, and changes his mode of operation.
Ant Yu gets a call from an unknown number. He is in the habit of screening his calls and lets it go to voicemail. The next day, he checks his messages, and deletes the voicemail from “Brandon” asking him to call back, who has not explained why he had called.
Sybil gets a voicemail from Brandon and deletes it. Gothic Diana Ross does as well.
Brandon is again frustrated by the nonexistent return on his low-budget marketing investment for his overcompensated vehicle lot.
Knowing that Kankakee slimeball Pat Splatt might be able to hustle on his behalf, he calls. Pat teams up with Robbie Hurlbutt to try and spam people all over Kankakee by stealing Fakebook Martplace accounts.
Pat Oswald Splatt, or POS for short, develops a Fakebook virus to steal accounts for Brandon. It is disguised as a video featuring a picture of Sybil Kibble eating a can of cheap, wet dog food. Pat’s buddy and partner-in-crime Robbie Hurlbutt snuck it using his mobile phone, in the company break room, when he worked at CRASS for two weeks.
“Check this out, Robbie and Brandon!”
Pat shows off his newly minted virus, disguised as a video, designed to slide into Fakebook Martplace instant message boxes all over Kankakee.
“Kankakee bill collector eats dog food for lunch” reads the caption below the fake video that is really a virus.
“Once people click on this pretend video, the virus will send US the users’ login credentials. We will start by replying to Fakebook Martplace ads. That way we will find suckers really easily.”
The room fills with laughter.
“I based the virus off code I used to program a broken 1989 Atari emulator, accidentally broken on purpose. Those were my script kiddie days, back when I used to try and own noobs.”
“You are a noob, Pat.” Robbie snickers.
Pat launches the virus and Robbie gets ready to collect the login credentials so he can pool them into a spreadsheet.
Days go by…nothing.
Pat tests the virus and it is operational.
“Are you sending the virus out, Pat? I am paying you to do this.” Brandon asks.
“I am sending but nobody is a-clickin.”
“How about we step it up and generate a whole bunch a windows?” Brandon asks Pat.
“Good idea.”
Pat modifies the virus code to replicate multiple windows featuring Sybil Kibble enjoying her doggie dinner. The recursive windows end up crashing some computers, while most others fail to get infected at all, as the ancient technology powering the virus gets caught by even the most basic pop-up killer.
Brandon storms in on a sleeping Pat Oswald Splatt, curled up in his chair listening to a Robbie Hurlbutt Elvis impersonation video on a loop to try and increase his watch count.
“That’s it, I want my money back! I made nothing off your crappy viral marketing campaign!”
“Who-what-um-who is this? Hello?”
“Quit the drama! I want my money back!”
“Oh, hi Brandon.”
“Don’t hi Brandon me. I need my money back and I need it right now!”
“You will get your money back alright. Your bank charge failed because you had no money. You cheap fool!” Pat exclaims at Brandon and falls out his squeaky metal chair.
Brandon begins to laugh.
“Oopsie.” Pat giggles as Brandon leaves his former partner-in-crime and dials up another goofy plan in his head.
Sybil Kibble and her mom, JK, love Kankakee so much they hang out in front of the city sign (maybe a little too much). They need a hobby.
For neckbeard Damien Hurlbutt, invalidation of others’ feelings is one heck of a drug, as is mansplaining.
Bourbonnais neckbeard and movie theater clerk Damien Hurlbutt prints up a bunch of business cards and leaves them around Kankakee County businesses, hoping to spring a date:
DAMIEN ULYSSES HURLBUTT
SINGLE NICE GUY
SEEKS M’LADY FOR
FREE MOVIE TICKETS
815-555-FART
Scammers call. Damien answers, thinking they are legit:
“Hi M’Lady M’dame” Damien answers.
“Is this Damien….Ummm….Hurlbutt?”
“You got ‘em.”
Hi. I am calling to report your Social Security Number has been disabled.”
“Oh hi. I see you got my card. I am a really nice guy.”
“I beg your pardon?
“No don’t hang up. I can will myself out of heart attacks, I am so cool.”
A click and a dial tone are heard.
Prankers call:
“Hello. Is this Damien?”
“Speaking.”
“You just won a lifetime subsciption to Feetsniffers’ Monthly!”
“I did! Oh, wow!”
“You moron, it’s a prank…”
The caller hangs up and a disappointed Damien’s smile turns upside down.
Pyramid scheme peddlers call.
“Hey, Babe.”
“Oh heyyyy honey puddin’” Damien replies to the lady caller.
“Umm, hi.”
“Heyyyy. What is a little and dainty lady want with an oaf like me?” Damien drools all over his flip phone.
“I have a great weight loss product that can take you from chump to champ in no time.”
“Come now!”
“Go now!” The lady hangs up on Damien.
Then Doris Krabalsky, the notorious street pyramid schemer calls. Damien hangs up. Doris calls again but Damien blocks her call because he does not want anything she might be selling.
Doris hides her number from caller ID and tries to call Mr. Hurlbutt again.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Damien?”
“Who is this?” Damien asks.
“I really think you are cute. Let’s go out sometime.”
“Wait, who is this?” a nervous Damien queries.
“Doris.”
Damien faints, falling to the floor, not waking up until hours later.
He did not “will his way out” of it, did he? In fact, he does not “will” his way out of much of anything.
Katie walked into a Kankakee bar to get a drink, not knowing all the single men would take notice.
