Tag: writing

Hard Time

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

“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.

A Very Moronic Concert

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“Ma, would you like a dog food wrap?”

“No thanks, Sybil. I’ll take a raincheck.”

“I wrapped them up in toilet paper, Mother!”

JK shakes her silvery coiffe.

“Are there squirrels along the boardwalk?” JK asks her daughter, who is busy munching away at her doggy bag.

“Mmmnnnpf” a hungry, occupied Sybil replies in the negative.

“Speaking of squirrels, where are our tickets to the squirrel petting zoo?” JK inquires.

Sybil digs around her black-and-white striped purse, and pulls out the envelope Robbie gave her.

“Coupons? I thought they were comping us. These only give us a dollar off! The admission is $20 a pop! And where are our hotel keys? They said they were getting that, too!”

“Ummmm…” JK’s jaw just hangs.

“I have a plan.”

“Are we still going to the show?”

“Aw yeah, we are going early, in fact.”

6:00 PM rolls around and Sybil has already gotten to the bar with her mom, JK. The two were a bit delayed by their detour to the novelty store.

“Where is the ladies’ room?”

The bartender points in the general direction.

Sybil and JK each take a stall and begin blowing up the inflatable women. Sybil applies makeup, a blonde wig and readers to hers and JK applies a short, gray wig and round glasses to her doll. They walk out the restroom and place their dolls in two seats toward the back of the bar.

Sybil and JK leave the bar, giggling as they exit. They head to a casino where they spend the night.

The Moronic Half-Assets (MHA) Vaudeville act begins. Konrad Teirant tells his awful puns, then his wife, Madeline Topolla-Teirant, the colorful clown, juggles and attempts to balance on a large ball. Robbie Hurlbutt, mediocre Elvis impersonator, sings and dances like the fool he is.

PJ Hurlbutt cheers on her son Robbie, who she thinks is the greatest singer, meanwhile Pat Splatt sits there in his seat texting.

The show ends and Robbie takes a head count.

“We’d like to thank our fans Pat, my Mom PJ, and our buddies Sybil and JK!”

“Encore! Encore! Encore!” the lone fan, PJ, shouts.

“Did you say encore? We aim to please. Robbie is going to serenade a special fan who came all the way from Kankakee, Illinois!” Konrad announces.

Robbie comes down from the stage, toward the back of the bar and begins to sing “Burnin’ Love”.

Robbie is in shock that the “person” to whom he is singing does not react, nor move at all. “She is not a sincere fan.” Robbie says into the microphone after his number.

“Robbie, you moron. That’s a blow-up doll!” Madeline shouts.

Robbie jumps back in sheer embarassment.

“Elvis has now left the building.” Konrad announces.

The Moronic Half-Assets pack up, ready to leave. “That was a bust. I got really flustered up there.” Robbie sighs.

“We did not return much on our investment, did we?” Konrad gripes.

“Time to pack up and leave. If we drive home in our clown car, and make it home without stopping, maybe we can make up for our losses. Time to go!”

Robbie is in the Men’s washroom, wizzing away.

“Robbie, why do you leave the door open? I tell you about that time and time again!” Madeline screams.

A loud slam is heard.

“Rrrrrrrrgh!”

“Robbie, you are not Elvis, and you are not going to die in there.”

The MHA members pack up their stuff, and Robbie follows them into his clown car.

“I wonder what act is up next?” Robbie asks.

“I guess we’ll never know. Step on it Robbie!”

An announcement is barely heard from the purple clownmobile as Robbie pulls away, and rolls up his window, Kankakee-bound:

“Next up, from Manteno, Illinois: Gothic Diana and the Midnight Supremes!”

“Rrrrrrgh—I love her! My dreamy—“

“Shut up and drive, childish little boy,” Madeline commands as the rain pours down and the moon shines down on the Moronic Half Assets.

Sybil Can’t Fly.

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

It’s that time again.

Kankakee bill collector and dog-food connoisseur Sybil is so excited for the annual Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) Retreat in Hoboken, New Jersey, she can almost wet herself. However, she cannot fly. She does not want to fly, actually. It is not that she is afraid to fly; she just WON’T.

“I would rather take the train. That is the way to travel.” Miss Kibble barks to Mack E. Avelli, CRASS Chief.

“Do what you want. It will save the company money,” replies Mr. Avelli.

“Oh, I cannot wait! This is going to be so fun!” Sybil bursts out loud, as she runs around the office with great excitement. “I wonder what city I will see first? “Gary? Cleveland? DeMoranville? This is going to be AWE-some!” Sybil brags, while the rest of the office shake their collective heads, and sigh.

Sybil has been on her train for 14 hours. She has not slept all night. The woman behind her has been snoring and her toddler has been wailing like a banshee for the past hour.

An assistant conductor walks by. “Excuse me, what time will we be to Hoboken?”

“This train does not go to Hoboken. Your ticket says Newark.”

“What time, then?” snaps Sybil.

“We are running five hours behind.”

The train eventually pulls into Newark, after driving backward through a muddy lake, slowing for eight freight trains and stopping for six.

Sybil misses her shindig by two hours and takes the lonely train home, and her bragging rights with her.

This post brought to you by Aeroplane and the letters AA.

Wanna Buy An Oil?

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

Doris Krabalsky is Kankakee town troll Leona Krabalsky’s younger sister who sells essential snake oils, investments you can sell your friends, stinky pink drinks, and other MLM products on the streets. Meet her at midnight. Or look for her ice cream…van.

Doris Krabalsky Wanna Buy an Oil 2

Upside Down You Turn Me

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Local yokel and poor Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt has a huge crush on Gothic Diana Ross, lead singer from the Manteno band The Midnight Supremes.

Robbie stalks Diana on Fakebook and Utube, telling her she is the best diva on earth and she can be the boss of him anytime.

Do you think Diana is impressed?

How to Avenge Scammers and Telemarketers (Updated Version)

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

– Ask them if they’ve got beer.

– Start speaking in tongues.

– Tell them that person doesn’t live there anymore. Give them the number of an adult service and tell them that it is their new number.

– Tell them that you’re not there right now.

– Ask them if they accept coupons.

– Start selling them something else.

– If someone calls soliciting donations, tell them you’re poor and ask for money instead.

– Start preaching your religion to them.

– Pretend you’re a recording and say “The number you have reached is not in service. Please check the number and dial again, or talk to your operator for assistance. Recording A4.” Extra points for imitating the 3 rising tones at the beginning.

– Try to hypnotise the caller.

– Play a recording of a busy signal.

– Put on some really annoying music and put your phone up to the stereo.

– Ask the caller if they are single. Then try hitting on them. Be sure to mention your various medical problems, your fascination with odd smells and your shrine to the Lawrence Welk Show.

– Use a voice changer to disguise your voice.

– Rap all your replies to the caller’s questions.

– Ask the caller if they mind if you talk to them on the toilet. Then take a plastic Heinz ketchup bottle and squeeze out ketchup repeatedly. (If you’ve ever used this kind of ketchup, you’ll know what kind of sound this makes!!!!!)

– Speak in ragga chant.

– Try to rhyme with everything the caller says.

– Tell the caller that the person they are trying to reach is a victim of black magic and was turned into a poodle.

– Tell the caller that the person they are trying to reach has passed away, and that you’re the ghost of them.

– Sell them on the “value of high colonics”. Explain your “dedication to good health” in your most convincing, passionate voice.

See where this listicle was referenced by Kirk Cameron and his buddy Ray Comfort!

Top Ten Stupid Ways to Annoy People

~ Jen ~ Leave a comment
  1. Write to classified ads from 25 years ago. Personal ads a plus.
  2. Forward those survey emails get when you give away your info at the store to all your friends in your contact list.
  3. Call 1-900 chat lines and ask for pizza.
  4. Burn girlie magazines in the fireplace. When the owner of the magazines sees what you’re doing and gets mad, tell him that you ran out of firewood and didn’t want to freeze.
  5. Wish somebody a happy birthday in the paper when it’s not their birthday. Better yet, make up names (and try to rhyme).
  6. Speak in tongues to telemarketers.
  7. Ring the doorbell at a stranger’s house right when they show the Publisher’s Clearing House van pull up on TV on the day they pick the winner. Then run away as fast as possible.
  8. Pronounce company initials and vowel-less acronyms as whole words.
  9. Call up companies and ask if they’re “hearing”. When they ask you what you’re talking about, ask if you can get an “aphlication”.
  10. Drive a motorcycle up your parents’ stairs when they’re trying to sleep.

Sybil’s Dog Food Dilemma

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“Oh snap, that’s the last bite!” Kankakee debt collector Sybil Kibble exclaims as she shakes the now-empty bag of dog food, and turns it upside down. “I am really hungry too.”

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Sybil hops in her white Chrysler LeBaron and drives down to Wally Green’s drugstore. As soon as she steps through the door, demoted pharmacy clerk who thinks he is Elvis, Robbie Hurlbutt greets her. 

“What can I help you find today?”

“Do you have any Dog Chow?”

“We are fresh out.”

Sybil exits, walks by Robbie’s purple clown car with a giggle and gets behind the wheel of her LeBaron.

Sybil parks in the “Expectant Mothers Only” space at Schmucks grocery store and walks in. “Who is going to know I am in menopause anyway?” Sybil says to herself as she walks through the automatic door.

After a thorough combing of the pet food aisle, Sybil comes up empty. She hopes the third time is a charm, and drives over to Bucketheads hardware store.

After walking past the 11% off everything sign, Sybil hopes to save big money on dog food, which she usually scores toward the back of the store. However she strikes out yet again. 

Sybil gets on her smart phone after exiting the store and calls Wally Green’s 1-800 customer service number. After spending 45 minutes in the on-hold abyss, the call disconnects. She tries two more times and her call gets disconnected immediately.

Sybil walks back into Wally Green’s to try and figure out what is going on. She asks to speak to the Manager on Duty. “I am sorry you are having trouble reaching our customer care line. Our representatives are trained to keep hanging up on all callers until the queue is gone.”

Angered, Sybil Kibble needs to do something to relax. She picks up a newspaper and reads the headline: “Nationwide Dog Food Shortage.” Sybil slams down the paper and storms out, heading to the local bar. “I need a drink,” Sybil mumbles to herself.

Sybil sits down at the bar. Before the bartender can even wait on her, barfly and notorious ladies’ man Wally Green emerges.

“Hey babe!”

“Oh, hi Wally.”

“Can I buy you a drink, hon?”

Sybil accepts because she is cheap.

Wally begins to bore Sybil with his tall tales about his family almost having inherited most of Manhattan Island.

Sybil interrupts Wally’s rambling:

“Hey, why are your stores out of dog food anyway? I am so hungry.”

“Oh yeah, I have a secret stash at my house. Wanna go back to my place?”

Sybil looks Wally in the eye sporting a devilish grin.

The pair arrive at Wally’s McMansion. Wally offers wine, she declines.

Wally starts to bore Sybil about his road trip to Florida as he really likes the heat.

Sybil interrupts and asks about dinner. 

Wally offers to cook her a romantic meal. Sybil agrees with excitement.

“It will be a surprise. I know you will love it!”

Visions of dog bones dance in Sybil’s head. Wally emerges from the kitchen with a plate full of gefilte fish, and Sybil almost pukes. 

“You’re not impressed?” Wally asks.

“Umm, no I eat dog food.”

“You’re a bill collector. Makes sense. If you stop calling my store, I will give you some cans of Alpo.”

“That’s my favorite kind!” Sybil exclaims. “But I won’t take you off my list. You owe us too much money.”

“Then will you kiss me?”

Sybil gags and dashes out Wally’s McMansion, back to her own, where she settles for cat food instead.

Happy Birthday Damien – August 10th

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Happy Birthday Damien Hurlbutt! We hope you made it out that dumpster okay!