Birds of a Feather Ruffle Together

Bernadette Cacca performs her heart out of her kazoo and accordion covers of songs like “My Butt Goes Boom” and “My Fart Will Go On.” Despite her best efforts, her butt-trumpet solo does not qualify her for a spot on stage at Kankakee County’s Talent Show.

“I had sung a cover of ‘Into The On-Hold Abyss’ at CRASS Idol and got NOs from all three judges after four seconds. I was good,” Sybil Kibble replies to the drama unfolding all over the talent show’s Fakebook page.

Having the voice of an angel and the heart of the devil, Bernadette is jealous that her neighbors Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes got a spot, the entramanure and communal narcissist known for her charity piano bar recitals did not. Sucks to be her!

Bernadette calls upon her Poopy Groupies to raise a stink.

Carla Rachella Amanda Medici Moran works as a sterile supply technician at an Indiana hospital, eating all the gross stuff off the medical equipment before it goes into the autoclave. She flies into her home, missing the roof again, after visiting one of her 10-plus “scadiate” nests around Albion as she says.

“Ana walks by me three times, that’s three times. Not once, not ONCE did she say hi!” Carla gossips to her sister Sonya.

Butthurt because people are not returning her phone calls, the evil shapeshifting humanoid vulture takes to the road to ruffle some feathers, since her wings are tired.

Carla Moran takes Sonya Moran’s parking spot. The residents of Prairieland Country Club Apartments For the Disabled start squawking about it while Carla is out stalking again, saying “That’s Sonya’s spot. She’s the manager. Don’t take it.”

Carla snaps, “Sonya’s gone for the day.”

”If she was here, she would be pretty grumpy at you.”

“I will just be a minute.” Carla takes out her smell phone and texts every person in her log. Five minutes later, nobody replies so she re-sends them. Everything’s an emergency to her, so she speeds off to Illinois like an ambulance rushing to the scene of an accident.

Carla peels into the Caccas’ Manteno driveway thinking she’s a street racer. The apple does not fall far from the tree.

“Take these sacks, help your mother,” Carla says to her daughter Bernadette Moran Cacca. 

“I’m not an octopus!”

“Here, let me grab them” Sonya says with a half-smile as she grabs the eight grocery sacks with her massive, pointy beak and sets them inside the Manteno Optimal Club.

Sonya Marie Smith Moran files a $4 million lawsuit in Kankakee County court against the Talent Committee, plots to take over the city and fire the current mayor since she’s still butthurt that she lost the mayoral race in Albion, Indiana.  Her goal is to bankrupt the city and ruin the lives and reputations for everyone who wins the talent show. “Winning is everything!” she exclaims after she uploads the paperwork.

Bernadette rehearses on the stage at the banquet hall inside the Optimal Club. People have yet to show, including her mother and aunt out rounding up robins, vultures and cuckoos to watch their wonderful lil bog witch sing at their charity event, hoping to change the mind of the Kankakee County Talent Committee and everyone else who contributes to planning the annual County Fair.

Today, people will not give an inch. On the way to Dr. Eddie Dixon’s office, Sybil Kibble has to stop and get labs drawn, no biggie. She stops and eats her Alpo lunch. Yum!

What is this water on her seat? The floor? 

Darnit, that screwy air-tight water bottle she bought from Wally Green’s took a whizz all over her bag, her phone, her masks. “Thanks, Wally!” Sybil exclaims.

After stopping for coffee, the covfefe continues over at Dr. Dixon’s. 

Sybil asks receptionist Pris Dixon for a mask, she barks “we don’t give out masks here anymore,” while calling back to Dr. Dixon to try and cancel. 

Thankfully a kind stranger gives her an extra one; apparently Pris had never ruined a single mask, ever. I bet she had never spilled water before and assumes other people do it on purpose.

Sybil sits down in the crowded waiting room amongst a group of mostly unmasked patients. Maybe one or two folks actually wore theirs. She sees CRASS co-worker Mikey Dixon get called in, along with Gothic Diana Ross. Eventually she gets called in and is told — guess what — her tests came back normal.

On the way home, it begins to pour. Sirens wail like a banshee. “Man, I wish they would turn the volume down on these fart-machines!” Sybil Kibble thinks out loud.

Sybil pulls over near the Manteno Optimal Club to let the fire engines and cop cars pass. Carla and Sonya Moran had smashed their sedan into a telephone pole out front. Rubberneckers look at the accident and stare, wondering what had happened.

“We flew over here to try and bring groupies Peppi, Greg and JB to YOUR show and look what YOU done!” Carla and Sonya bark at Bernadette, the Manteno Wonder. 

“Are these sirens just for me! Aww boys, you shouldn’t have!” Bernadette exclaims with glee at the loud, farty horns and farts along to the noise while shaking her booty as if nobody was watching. She’s not too bright.

Sybil films the whole fracas and laughs, excited to show her mother JoAnn and maybe post to Kankakee social media. Maybe.

Getting Fired Sucks, Barry.

Mosquitoes suck.

After the Dr. Mathew B. Johnson School of Intrepid Arts in Albion, Indiana got shut down by the Attorney General’s office for fraud and corruption, Scary Barry Reynolds lost his health insurance, since the United States requires a job in order to get such basic needs met.

Barry’s doctor ordered labs so he went to the local Wally Green’s to get it done at 1AM in their Vampyre Department.

“What if I don’t have insurance?” Barry asked the vampyre working the blood lab.

“We will mail you a bill, and make sure to screw it up as always. However, we only allow self-payers to get blood drawn by our team of mosquitoes since a venipuncture requires insurance.”

Wally Green’s Brand Spankin’ New Inventions!

Coming soon to the corner of Wally and Green’s!

Sponsored by WallyMobile

Introducing the new mobile phone plan from Wally Green’s! Exclusive to our stores, WallyMobile offers unlimited talk/text, a super-hard to navigate touch-screen, and plenty of tracking-cookies to slow your phone while consuming your data! Apply today! Be sure to pay for it using your Wally Green’s credit card as we do not accept Craptocoin.

MyDoucheBag

These extra, extra-plopsy bags are made from recycled douche and rusty canoes. With more pockets than you’ll ever need, these bags are specially designed to make sure you lose your stuff! Wally’s patented CrapStraps will be sure to tangle and strangle the wearer. Buy one get one half off (but never free)!

ScrewyLid

Are your tumbler lids too easy to take off and put back on? Try Wally’s new ScrewyLid!  Using the same design our adult-proof pill-bottle lids, you will be sure you lose your top! Screw it back on, but ohhh, it’s stuck half-way again. Pick one up at Wally Green’s on the corner nearest you! Three for $7.00! (Must buy three)

Throw-a-Fit Blankets

Do you get frustrated trying to keep your fitted sheets on the bed? Now, throw a fit, every time you try to fit this throw onto your bed, only for it to fling right off. You might as well throw it away.

Wally Green, Give us Some Credit

“Why don’t you have enough staff in here? I come to your pharmacy here in Kankakee, they say ‘20 minutes.’ Two hours later, my meds are not ready?” the tall, curvy, light-skinned lady with the blue curls asks.

“It has only been 2 minutes” drugstore chain owner and wacky inventor Wally Green gaslights Kitty Bee, one of many ladies who rejected his advances at the local bars and cafés.

“Three people on the sales floor asked me if I needed anything. Yeah, you need more pharmacy staff and fewer sales clerks!” a rightfully upset Kitty tells Wally.

“I’m not about to debate capitalism with you,“ Wally dismisses Kitty’s concerns, logs onto his dating app and begins to think up more useless inventions. Multi-tasking is one of Wally Green’s core values and part of the chain’s Mission Statement, whatever the heck that means.

Kitty goes home and writes up a review on Welp to warn other customers about her bad experience, and tags the Federal Trade Commission, the Illinois Attorney General and the Chicago Tribune.

The Attorney General’s office contacts Kitty, very concerned about Wally’s history of mismanaging his Deerfield-based drugstore chain. They have received multiple complaints from customers, staff and providers.

“I want to have a sit-down with you” the caller from the Illinois Attorney General office says to Wally. Terrified any legal troubles — and potential bad press — might hurt his profits, Wally racks his bird-brain for new ideas to make money. Sales of Toiliots and Mr. Plopsies are down anyway.

“Hey Robbie, design me a new flyer.”

“I can draw a bit but do not know how to design. My high-school classmate and I made a cartoon once.”

“Good. We need a letter to go out yesterday offering all of Illinois our new credit card. It has a 69 per cent UFO, but who cares?”

“Umm, you mean APR, right?”

“Whatever. Just get it done.”

Robbie gets to work. A few hours later, after taking a Number One, this part-time Elvis impersonator and store clerk shows his boss Wally Green his design:

“Perfect. Now get on that mail merge.” Wally walks away from Robbie and goes into his office to check his OKStupid account. “I clink on the lick and not one lovely lady swipes right. Why do nice guys like me finish last?”

“I can hear ya, boss. What the heck is a mail merge? Hello?”

Robbie sighs, goes back to sweeping the floor and then tries to sell folks Wally’s patent-pending Half-Ply Toilet Paper.

Wally Green’s profits sink due even further since the truth came out all over the media about his crappy stores. The “Buy One, Get One Half Off (But Never Free)” sales did not help, either.

Wally goes down to his favorite bar, The Gaslight, and parks his bum at his usual spot. It’s going to be a long night for the dysfunctional Wally.

Wally tips a few at The Gaslight

I need bill money. WOULD YOU LIKE A WALLY GREEN’S SHIRT, MUG OR NOTEBOOK? Now on sale here (not a buy one/get one half off but never free sale):

Thanks!

Jen

Chief Moron Wrangler

MoronicArts

Beaucoup Bogan Spices

“Did your brother Damien mop these washrooms? There is a lake everywhere,” Wally Green asks his clerk Robbie Hurlbutt. 

“Naw, he was last seen somewhere around Area 51.”

“Now I need you to cut off access so people don’t slip and fall! Put one of those plastic things in the way, those ‘wet floor’ signs so that people will bump into it should they try and go pee.”

“Yes, boss.”

“And when you’re done, I need you to set up our new spice-rack.”

“Oh, for our pharmacy? To hang up all our pill bottles, right?”

“You sound more like your brother every day.”

“Did you invent them?”

“No, Robert. They came in all the way from Indiana.”

Robbie begins humming “Indiana Wants Me,” tuning out his boss.

“Boucoup Bogan Spices. These babies have a magic ingredient!”

“Can they make me high?” the drugstore clerk, vulnerable narcissist and Elvis impersonator asks with anticipation, eyes wide as his sideburns long.

“No, not that kind of magic. If you make production, I will let you in on the secret. I hear they are a big hit in Evansville.”

“Why are you importing from Indiana? That’s a whole world away.”

Wally sighs, shakes his head and walks back to his office. Wally opens up his Tindling app and swipes right as much as possible. After a slew of rejections, this wacky inventor and wannabe ladies’ man deals himself a game of solitaire and falls asleep, dreaming up the next buy one, get one half off (but never free) sale.

Albion, Indiana Optimal President Club Carla Moran drools over her shipment of bogan moths from Australia. “These will make great spices for my business “Beaucoup Bogan Spices.”

“I agree. They will go great with those mealworms you have been using!” cries her niece, bog witch and communal narc-a-doodle Bernadette Cacca.

“Well, yeah!”

“I am gonna try them on the next man I devour when I return to my swamp.”

“YOUR swamp?”

“Don’t forget it!” Bernadette snarks at her favorite aunt and flying monkey.

Kankakee bill collection boiler-room Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) holds their annual Halloween potluck.

“This dish is delicious. I have never tasted bean sprouts so yummy. Usually they taste like dirt! These spices are like no other, compliments to the chef! Where did she get that recipe?” CRASS chief cheese Mack E. Avelli asks.

“They’re just regular bean sprouts. Cut them up like regular bean sprouts,” Accounts Receivables Manager Tara Bull says to her superior with a crooked grin.

”I just made these intestine desserts for Halloween. They’re really good. I made them the Dale way,” Dale Davis asks his supervisor and crush, Sybil Kibble.

“I just destroyed a whole bag of dog biscuits, I’m not hungry now. Thanks!” 

Mr. Avelli is dying to know who made the bean sprouts with the funky spices. He goes from office to office asking, hoping to find a way to make money off them. Someone owns up.

“Where did you buy these?”

“Wally Green’s,” Operations Chief Mike Philips tells his boss as he continues his FreeCell game.

“How about we do a big ol’ promo?”

“Do what you want. My wife made them.”

“Mike, contact Wally Green and ask that we co-host a talent competition. The winner gets a lifetime supply of this crack and a CRASS tee-shirt. It will make us a look good, and maybe Wally will pay back some of his debt. Get us on TV!”

“Call Dorian. I am too busy.”

Mike goes back to playing his virtual card game.

Mack develops a crossover campaign with Art Director Dorian James and plans to air it live on the local news. They are given the green light to air October 31st.

“It’s Halloween Night and we have a TREAT for you!” barks CRASS Chief cook of books and 1/3 of Vaudeville troupe, Moronic Half-Assets (MHA) Konrad Teirant.

Awkward silence passes.

“Get it, treat?” Konrad says with a falsetto giggle.

The crowd rolls their eyes and boos.

“Oh look a ghost!”

Not feeling the love of the crowd, Konrad moves right along.

We are holding our talent contest, sponsored by Wally Green’s and Beaucoup Bogan Spices! The winner will get a lifetime supply for these unique, and very tasty spices imported from Albion, Indiana. Sonya, what are these made from?”

Sonya attempts to force a big, cheesy smile, juxtaposed against her psychopathic stare.

“Out first act tonight is the Manteno Wonder herself, Bernadette Cacca! Get ready for her kazoo pop covers!”

Bernadette’s biggest fans, The Poopy Groupies, cheer, hoot and holler.

“I do a lot for the community! You guys are AWESOME! Get ready KaCo! Any requests?”

“Can you hum the Menard’s jingle?”

The crowd giggles and Bern carries on with her cover songs and finishes her act rapping about her port-o-dump business along with husband Peppi.

“We are King and Queen of the Throne. Come to Manteno and get your poopy on!”

Thank you Peppi’s Portapotties. Now for our next act, you will really like her, I know I do because she’s my wife! Give it up for Madwoman! I mean Madeline!”

After a slow clap, a large dumpster clearly marked “Peppi’s Portapotties” is rolled onto stage by an unseen pair of stagehands.

The seven-foot clown juggles broken records, scratched CDs and crushed cassettes.

“Hey, those are mine! Robbie Hurlbutt lies from offstage.”

Madeline chucks the busted music collection at the little fibber.

Thank you my love. And now our final act, Mr. Wally Green himself!

“I’m single by the way. Meet me here at the Gaslight Bar during Happy Hour. I will make you happy!”

Laughter fills the room and the airwaves. The bartender smiles.

Wally Green sings “Fart Your Birds”, a parody of Prove Your Love by Fun Factory. Bird tweets, squawks and fart sounds looped into the song can be heard on the playback. Wally sings and blows his air-horn nose:

Fart your birds,

Fart your parakeets

Give me all your budgies,

Point your butt and rip.

Don’t try to hide,

Don’t run from me.

Fart your birds,

Fart your parakeeeeeets!”

The crowd bursts into laughter, and tosses beer bottles at Mr. Green. 

EmCee Kon Teirant takes over. “Thank you Wally. That sure was…interesting. The crowd has voted. I think we have a wiener, I mean, winner. The CRASS Winner of the WORST Act goes to, Mr. Wally Green himself! Mack E. Avelli, throw him a CRASS tee-shirt.”

Mack fires away a CRASS shirt out his tee-shirt shooter and directly into Wally’s massive gut. 

“Any single ladies wanna meet me at the bar?” Sonya Moran and her favourite niece Bern Cacca run over, arms a-flailing, to give him a hug.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Solitaire

Deerfield, Illinois-born drugstore chief, wacky inventor and barfly Wally Green is playing solitaire at The Gaslight after the nice lady in heels rejected his moves. Apparently his tall tales about wrongly losing the deed to Manhattan Island – after pirates had stolen it from his ancestors – was too much for her to handle. I wonder what she thinks of the air-horn inside his nose which blares whenever he blows it.

Wally Green’s Rejected Patents

Wally Green has been notorious for his wacky inventions for quite some time. Some of his ideas have made it into his drug stores. Others failed to pass patent approval and almost landed him in prison.

Finger Ale

Made from real fingers, this new organic health drink was set to be the new health craze, only it failed FDA requirements, and put Wally on several law enforcement watch lists.

Toiliot

This production-oriented, automated toilet would flush well ahead of schedule and make sure to splash its user, doubling as a bedde. As an added bonus, Toiliot would entertain people by making fart noises after flushing, much like Wally would when he blew his nose.

Passhole

This computer program would require its user to type in their password correct the first time. Any error would result in electric shock and their account locking up immediately.

Do not look for these products at a Wally Green’s near you.

Wally Green’s Drugstore “Improvements”

Deerfield-born ladies’ man, drugstore owner and wacky inventor Wally Green wants all his customers to know he cares. After partnering with corrupted contractor Terry Reynolds of Albion, Indiana, he is doing some “CONSTRUTION” to renovate his stores.

FART CARTS

These shopping carts play the brown note when you get within 10 feet of the store’s door, making you crap your pants to punish you for not putting the cart away

404 COUPONS NOT FOUND 

These 404 page coupon booklets are designed with only some pages numbered, confusing Wally’s customers on purpose because Wally hopes they will give up and die trying before finding their coupon of choice. 

CLICKETY-CLAPPETY INTERCOM MUSIC

Do you like hearing the same 15-second piano loop every time you call Wally Green’s pharmacy? Wally partnered with the same firm who produced every single commercial that ran on television for the past three years to create 30-second loops using only finger snaps, hand-claps and “boom” sounds…the latter lifted from the Queen song “We Will Rock You.” It is the only music more repetitive than that of pop singer John Mayer. Marshall Stacks will be installed outside every store to make sure his neighbors hear it too.

TRAP DOOR CHILD SEATS

In an effort to save the almighty dollar, Wally Green’s is ceasing to repair the child-seat straps in their carts. At random, your coffee, purse or child will get trapped in the cart, or maybe even your fingers! We promise to keep delivering our buy one, get one half off (but never free) sales, and cutting expenses at all costs enables us to keep offering these sales to our beloved customers!

She Walked Into a Bar…(A MoronicArts Classic)

From 2020

Linda walked into a Kankakee bar to get a drink, not knowing all the single men would take notice. Who will she choose?

Robbie, PJ and Damien Hurlbutt

Pharmacy clerk, vulnerable narcissist and Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt?

Cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narc-a-doodle Damien Hurlbutt?

Wally Green Brainless-storms

Wacky inventor, drugstore owner and sadist Wally Green? 

Dale thinks he is worth your time.

CRASS Bill collector, and desperate hillbilly Dale Davis?

So many bottom-feeders, so little time.

“Dating is like shooting a bunch of arrows and missing the target every time.”

– Linda Stay