Five out of three MAGAts recommend Wally Green’s new Ear Duds!
Try the blind-boxed special: Will one Ear Dud continually plop out your ear, or the other? Will the sound quit altogether? Will the Cord From Hell (CFH) get caught up on a doorknob and strangle you?
Buy one, get one Ear Dud half off (but never free) at your neighborhood corner Wally Green’s!
Try the Turd Machine Deluxe, now with larger crapacity! Add your favorite flavors: Sodium phosphate, monosodium glutamate and formaldehyde! Gift your loved ones the life hack that shoots your turds out back!
“No, Sonya, we need you to keep filing these intake forms of the newly damned.”
“But boss?”
“Don’t talk back to me. Now get to work!”
Sonya files for another 666 hours until the bell rings. “I wanna ring the bell, I wanna ring the bell, why can’t I ring the bell?” Sonya screams as she throws a childish tantrum because she’s not getting her way, much to the annoyance of Hell’s CEO Satan.
“Sonya, you can do your externship on Earth for up to 12 hours, then you’re to be summoned back to Hell.
“Hot dawg!” Sonya exclaims.
Poof! Sonya immediately manifests her apparition in Kitty Bee’s bedroom.
“Why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t you ask me? Why did you report me to the feds?” Sonya-Daemon says to her former tenant to try and intimidate her. It’s 5:00 AM.
“Be gone in the name of the Light! With this your soul I smite!” Kitty grabs her can of D-Mon-Con and sprays beaucoup sage all over Sonya-Daemon.
“And may it be smote.”
“I’m glad I bought two of these. They were buy one, get one half-off at Wally Green’s. Now with extra sage, nice!”
“Wow, that’s a record!”
“Say what now boss?”
“You lasted two minutes and you’re back to Hell already. Now get to work! I need you to do 13 files a minute. Go now! Byyyeeeeeee.”
Satan disappears to mind another department of Hell.
But not for long with our new Polt-R-Gone! Spray that spectre with our patented sage blend!
Got a witch in your bog? Hasten that hag’s hustle away from your hedgerow!
Get out the ghouls, daemons too with our maximum-strength, pure sage D-M’n-CON!
But wait, there’s more! Don’t wait another 28 weeks or another 28 days: Prepare yourself for the apocalypse now with our new Zombie Zapper! The undead will just walk right into it…eventually!
Buy one, get one half off (but never free) at your local Wally Green’s! (Not valid in Manteno, sorry!)
“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).
“Of all the turd-machines I’ve bought, I love Wally Green’s the most! I get great deals on them, buy one/get one half off (but never free). The other brands just don’t measure up. I love my Turd Machine Deluxes because I can keep my vaults safe to mine Craptocoins the old fashioned way!”
Win up to a million slips of Latinum, from these new scratchers brought to you by the Ferengi School of Business! Buy one, get one half off (but never free) at your local Wally Green’s!
“Nothing is more important than your health, except for your money” – Ulis
Do you like having to grab your sleeping phone just so you can get a code to log into a website, for which you have already typed your password and username? (On two separate screens, of course!) How many puzzles have you solved to prove you are really a human, and not a more-human-than-human android?
Now you can spend hours of fun trying to get a single task done with Wally Green’s new 8-Step Verification CrapApp!
Wally’s 8-Step Verification CrapApp comes pre-loaded on all D-Mobile phones and you can download it for devices you already own! Our phones check to see that the real you really is really really you really, after you’ve already readied your phone already.
First solve the puzzle, then type in the number that’s on your phone. Next, will call you with a six-character alphanumeric code to type in upside down! Draw a figure eight, then enter username. Wait for the spinning cheerio of death, then enter your password. Go order a pizza, wait for delivery, then eat it.
Ooops! We don’t recognize that password. Please visit your corner Wally Green’s for assistance. If you are single, ask for Wally Green himself! He has already pushed himself away from every single lady at the Gaslight Bar by telling his long-winded yarns and by blowing his 90 decibel air-horn nose.
Buy one, get one half off (but never free)! While you are shopping, be sure to check out the do-it-yourself nasal endoscopy kit and pick up some rolls of half-ply toilet paper!
Wacky Kankakee inventor and pharmacy chain owner Wally Green is busy hosting his live infomercial advertising his newest invention, the Turd Machine: “Just turn the crank, and shoot the stank! But wait there’s more!”
MoronicArts 
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