Leaving On A Good Note

Little Wigger has had enough. Enough of the CSB and enough of the crazy idiots that want something for nothing. One of them called and wanted to buy a 4 wheel drive Yamaha Grizzly ATV with fuel injection and power steering for $5000, even though it lists for $8999. The guy was calling from a state and a half over, and made Little Wigger call him back so he wouldn't have to pay for the call. Little Wigger listened to the guy talk about what a great deal he had worked out with a dealer five and three quarters states over, and if Little Wigger matched the other dealer's imaginary price, which no other dealer in the Eastern United States had offered to, it would work out better for the cheapskate, because he could have a friend pick the ATV up and deliver it to him, instead of driving the 1084 miles roundtrip, according to mapquest, to get it from the only dealer in the continental US to offer him such a deal. Besides, the mooch said the other dealer sounded a little snakey when he asked for the guy to put the offer in writing and fax it to him.

Little Wigger thought about it for a while, and decided this had all the makings of a great final sale. He explained to the mooch that the reason dealers who sell things really cheap can't put it in writing and fax it is that they get in a lot of trouble with yamaha. So Little Wigger told the guy that what we do instead is record the purchase, and that works even better. He put the guy on speaker phone and kept telling the guy that the microphone wasn't picking up his voice, so the guy was screaming in the phone that he wanted a Grizzly ATV with power steering for %5000 out the door.

Got it, said Little Wigger, picking up the phone just as the dogs were barking at the noise. He hoped they wouldn't lure the CSB out of her daily drug induced stupor in the back room.

The mooch sent his friend in with $5000 cash to buy the Grizzly of his dreams. Unfortunately, his friend didn't know much about ATVs, so Little Wigger sold him a left over 2006 2 wheel drive Grizzly 350 that we marked down to $3500. He pocketed the difference, helped the friend load the ATV into his pickup, then got into his car and went to lunch.

That was a week ago. Little Wigger hasn't been back and the guy who bought the ATV is not very happy that we won't take it back and give him a refund. He keeps screaming that we need to listen to the recording and we will see what he really wanted.

A Signed Original

Gollum is greedy. Whenever he can, he tries to cheat the new kid with the Ubangi tribal jewelry hanging off his ears out of his commissions. Because Dickie fantasizes about an all he can eat Gollum sausagefest, he lets Gollum make the rules for the sales department. Gollum seems to find reasons to split most every deal.

Recently, Big Opie and the Comic Book Guy were opening the Point of Purchase displays that Suzuki sent us. They found a stack of posters of all the famous riders amongst the hangtags and safety notices. Big Opie took th stack of posters to Mondo and asked what to do with them.

"Let's sign them and put them on ebay," said Mondo. Then he went to lunch.

So Big Opie and the Comic Book Guy took the posters and signed them, some with the right hand, some with the left, with sharpie and ballpoint pen. By the time Mondo got back, they had signed the entire stack of posters and were arguing about who did the best Rickie Carmichael signature, and planning what they were going to do with the money from ebay.

"I was kidding," said Mondo, "That's not only criminal, it is easy to trace."

The evil Mondo made Big Opie and the Comic Book Guy throw away all their signed posters, save for one.

The next day, when Gollum came in from his day off, Mondo showed him the last remaining poster.

"The suzuki rep brought it by," he said, "and I gave it to Big Opie."

"Do you want it?" gollum asked Big Opie.

"Not really, I ride a Kawasaki ZX-10 and Suzukis suck."

"I'll take it," said Gollum, watching an imaginary auction take off in his head.

"I'll give it to you for a sandwich," said Big Opie.

So Gollum got the signed original poster of all the famous Suzuki riders for a sandwich that it took Big Opie a week of asking for every day before he finally got it.

Chicken Little Predicts the Future

We started carrying Kymco scooters. They had some left over ones from last year, and were offering them at a huge discount. Mondo ordered 10, and forgot to tell Chicken Little.
When Chicken Little got wind of this, he went into a tizzy and immediately informed Dickie. Dickie wasted no time in drafting a memo that stated all future orders have to be cleared by Chicken Little, or they would result in termination.
It took us eight days to sell all ten, and Kymco still had some left over. Mondo suggested to Chicken Little that we might want to order more.
"I don't feel comfortable ordering 2007 scooters this far into 2008," replied Chicken Little, "We might get stuck with them."
"We sold ten in eight days," replied Mondo.
"I am well aware of that, but I think that's a fluke. I want to hold off on ordering any new units until we see how the economy pans out. The 2009 models will be out in a few more months."
Then gas went to $4.50 a gallon, and Kymco told us they are out of scooters until 2009.

Flipper

Mondo hired a woman to sell bikes.

She liked motorcycles and had her endorsement. So Mondo figured she'd be easy to train in the art of parting enthusiasts from their money.

Her second day on the job, the woman showed up with both forearms bandaged from her elbow to the wrist. She told Mondo that she couldn't push heavy objects and is on a large and steady dose of vicodin. She seemed a little lost and bewildered.

Dickie says we have to build a case for letting go that doesn't involve the fact that she's stoned out of her mind and can't push a unicycle through the building.

This could be fun.

Can't You Smell that Smell

Cowtits® likes her pants tight. Or she's putting on weight.

Either way, she's got a cameltoe so thick and juicy you can see two feet up her vagina and out the back of her uterus. It's a fragrant one, and the combination of fermenting beaver and enough perfume to conceal a corpse from a cadaver dog is pungent enough to curdle nondairy creamer.

Cowtits® likes to sneak up behind Gollum when he's watching pre-op tranny videos or selling old cars on craigslist and offer him candy, while rocking her mound into the back of his chair and banging the back of his head with her big fake tits.

On the days she's not here, Cowtits® makes little treats for Gollum by putting canned fudge frosting on doublestuffed Oreos. She calls her homemade creation Fuckies, for Fudge Cookies. Cowtits® likes to draw Gollum's attention to the fact that the Oreos are doublestuffed. She says the word doublestuffed a lot, and fuckies too. Cowtits® tells the young guys in parts or sales that one of her daughter's boyfriends gave her homemade treat their catchy little nickname and that her daughter's boyfriends and their buddies used to come over to the house a lot for doublestuffed Fuckies, even after they broke up.

Unless she's watching him, Gollum gives his Fuckies to Giant Robot, who is usually stoned enough to eat sugar with a spoon.

Cowtits® enjoys reminding the rest of us that instead of hiring a janitor, we should take turns cleaning the bathrooms. Once a month, Cowtits® makes a big production out of announcing that she's going to clean the bathrooms, then goes in and dumps the trash.

We ran out of paper towels last week because Cowtits® wouldn't let Jethro buy them anywhere but Costco, and she forgot to leave the card at the dealership.

The Proper Procedure For Ordering Supplies

We ran out of toner cartridges and couldn't print out documents or run credit applications.

Business came to a standstill until Mondo sent Jethro to Staples with the company credit card to buy a couple.

When Cowtits® returned, three days later, she stampeded through the dealership, mooing loudly that we bought our toner cartridges at Staples instead of ordering them online and waiting a week, because they are $9 cheaper online and you don't pay sales tax. She even berated employees who have nothing to do with ordering or using office supplies. Everybody got an earful of the big cow.

And an unfortunate look at her leatherbelly.

And nobody got any candy.

Dickie sent out a memo that anyone who buys office supplies without checking with Cowtits® first will be terminated.

Saving that $9 and sales tax is more important than being able to do business for a few days.

Yes We Have No Bananas

The kid wanted to trade in his KLR650. He bought it new six months ago, and financed the entire amount. His payoff was more than a KLR650 sells for new, and he'd spent a lot of time online, so he knew what blue book was. He wanted a Yamaha FZ6, and wasn't going to be ripped off again. The kid figured out how to play the game.

Big Opie VIII took his credit information, and then tried the one closing technique Big Opie VIII has mastered.

"Would you buy this bike today if I take $1000 off?" he asked.

The Kid would think about it. Meanwhile, what was the best price we would sell him the bike for and how much would we give him for his trade. He wanted us to pay it off.

Mondo went out to look at the trade.

The Kid had painted his KLR650 Dollar General flat black, and much of the plastic and metal had a strange texture.

"I put an aftermarket muffler on it, and the muffler came off and the bike caught on fire while I was riding it, so I painted it," said the Kid, "So I'm willing to take less than high blue book."

Mondo just shook his head and went inside.

According to his credit application, the Kid was a mechanic.

While Mondo ran his credit, the Kid and Big Opie VIII started to haggle.

How about if I pay off your trade, and give you $1500 off the FZ6?" Big Opie VIII spread his ass cheeks faster and wider than a Tijuana hooker.

It felt good.

One bank after another turned the Kid down, mainly because paying for the KLR650 after it caught fire didn't appear to be high on the Kid's list of priorities.

"I"ll give you $4000 for the FZ6," said the Kid. The FZ6 retails for $6899.

"$4,000 plus fees?" asked Big Opie VIII, hopefully.

"I'll consider it," said the Kid, "I saw an '08 on the internet for $6499, and want a better deal because it's a 2007."

"And what about your trade, what do you want for it?" asked Big Opie VIII, taking his time to very seriously write 'Custumer ofers $4000 + fees' on the worksheet.

"I won't take less than $5000 because it's only 6 months old."

"They sell for $5199 new," pointed out Big Opie VIII cleverly.

"It's got an aftermarket exhaust," replied the Kid.

"So can you just okay here your offer of $4000 plus fees and we pay off your bike?"

"What is the interest rate? I know a lot of dealers screw you on the rate."

This inane banter went on for way too long. Mondo felt like listening to them anymore would cause brain damage. And overhearing the company moron pull jumbo discounts out of his ass might give real customers bad ideas.

Mondo went out to the sales floor. He had lost interest in being nice.

"Look," said Mondo to the Kid, "This is not a third world bazaar and we're not haggling over the price of bananas. Your credit is so bad, you can't finance extra cheese on a pizza. Go waste someone else's time."

"How close to my price will you go?" asked the Kid.

"Not very," said Mondo.

"How much will you give me for my KLR in trade?"

"You set it on fire," Mondo turned and walked away, "We don't want it. Thanks for stopping by."
The Kid left in a hurry. He couldn't believe the surefire negotiating technique some of the car salesmen at work told him to use didn't work.

"Why did you blow him out of here?" asked Big Opie VIII, "We almost had a deal."

"Better check your meds," Mondo said, "They are causing you to disconnect from reality."

Mondo went back to the computer. The last lender had turned the Kid down. He was destined to spend the time left before the repo man came riding his blackened KLR from dealership to dealership, looking for a $4000 FZ6.

Dickie Downs the Lojack Lady

Into the dealership walks a saleslady. Flashy car, expensive clothes, she hits up each of the salespeople looking for the Big Douche himself. Finally she gets to talk to Dickie. Turns out she's from Lojack (you might have heard of them, ya know, the people who figured out a really really good and proven way to fight vehicle theft).

Now begins about a week of negotiations as she tries to get Dickie's dealership on board with this good and proven product. Unfortunately for her, her company, Dickie's company and anyone stupid enough to buy a vehicle there, she has to go through Dickie and Chicken Little first.

To put Lojack on a vehicle, the mechanic has to be specially trained and bonded, since he will be the only person to know where the special transponder is hidden. Logic (shh, he might hear you) dictates that this is the second best way to do it, followed only by having NO ONE know where the transponders are placed. His section of the shop must be blocked from view of the other mechanics etc. Sounds good, right? Lol.

Dickie decides that he will not allow them into HIS (by gawd) shop unless he also knows where the transponders are placed, thereby making himself liable for any unrecovered vehicles and doubling the chance that the information would not stay where it belongs. This is only a minor blow to saleslady as every other dealership in a 50 mile radius gets on board immediately.

Now this story is short and is shy on detail but I'm going to leave you with one little gem. Chicken Little, in his finite wisdom and infinite ass kissing chooses to soften the blow to a disappointed sales staff by saying "They're useless anyway, anyone can steal a Lojacked vehicle as long as they cover it with a lead blanket".

Gollum goes American Chopper Part Deux

The day after the Sucker bought his bike, Big Opie VIII and Comic Book Guy are outside, enjoying the sunlight and wondering aloud why every other dealer in the area gets more traffic than Saint Manure Motorsports (brains aren't a requisite to be hired here) when they hear an awful commotion coming up the street. It sounds like a moving traffic accident/jam. Horns honking, screeching brakes and somewhere, a motorcycle running like shit.

A few moments later they are amazed to see that Yamaha come back, with Sucker at the helm. He's still stalling every few yards and the bike sounds like an angry moped. Behind him is a long line of cars, honking and trying to get around him and almost hitting each other in their haste to get where they are going.

Sucker finally makes it into the parking lot, stalls the bike a final time beside Big Opie VIII and Comic Book Guy, pulls off his helmet and starts yelling about how terribly the bike is running. Now Big Opie VIII and CBG somehow manage to control their laughter and point Sucker around back to service. CBG decides to put out his cigarette (a rarity) and head around to see what's up. Turns out the bike is only running on 3 of 4 cylinders, and the used bikes are sold as is, with no warranty. He's been stopped by cops twice and told he has no brake or tail light.

The Whiner is hysterical by the time CBG gets back to Service. This bike would have been a gold mine for his department because it needs an easy 3k worth of work to make it even remotely safe to ride, let alone sell, but the deed was done on his day off. He starts whining at Comic Book Guy about the unconnected taillights but it's not Comic Book Guy's sale, so he just smiles and leaves in a cloud of Marlboro smoke after mentioning that Gollum was the one who ziptied the tail section off an old Honda to the back of the bike and couldn't hook up the lights.

TWO DAYS AND $500 LATER
and the bike is running on all four cylinders. Gollum is hiding from Sucker in Chicken Little's office, CBG and Big Opie VIII are once again outside enjoying the sunshine. Sucker mounts up, stalls twice on the way out of the parking lot, then hits the street. At which point the lack of rear end lighting comes into play. As CBG digs into his pack for another smoke he hears a horrendous crash and looks up in time to see Sucker flying through the air. He turns around to see Gollum looking out through a window with a small smile on his face. "If he lives through that, I can sell him a new bike."

Where Parts Guys Come From

Gollum has a friend who lives at home. His friend has never had a job in his life, but he thinks motorcycles are cool and plays in a band. The Rocker is 32.

Gollum convinced the Douchebag that the Rocker would make a great salesperson. He also convinced the Rocker that it might be time to get some experience in the workplace. Gollum planned on helping the Rocker and helping himself to half the Rocker's commissions. Chicken Little figured he could help himself to the other half.

Even by Saint Manure standards, the Rocker wasn't very good at selling anything. He had trouble focusing on the big picture, which is selling and not sharing every detail about your band and every single ride you've ever taken in your life with the people who come in because they have an interest in buying a motorcycle. He also took frequent breaks when his mother brought him lunch or dinner, or merely wanted to come in and see that it wasn't a dream, the Rocker really had a job.

One morning, the Rocker was pushing out the used bikes when he dropped one and caused four to fall over. He broke a few brake levers and put big gashes in the plastic on a couple of the new KTMs. The Rocker righted the bikes and finished pushing them out, without disclosing what had happened.

Chicken Little noticed right away that there was something askew. He emailed the Douchebag, and they were hot on the case. The Douchebag went back through all his tapes and saw the Rocker knock the bikes over.

The next morning, the Douchebag was waiting for Mondo. He'd slept badly in his trailer behind the dealership, trying to figure out what to do about the Rocker.

"He's a nice guy but he can't sell motorcycles," said Mondo, "Not much good at pushing them out either."

When the Rocker came into the dealership, the Douchebag asked him to join them in Mondo's office.

The Rocker looked at Mondo. Mondo looked at the Rocker. The Douchebag looked like he needed a haircut and a bath.

"Mondo doesn't think you are doing very well in sales. Tell him why you're firing him," said the Douchebag.

Mondo started to pay attention. He hadn't mentioned firing the Rocker.

"You're just not selling very well," said Mondo, guessing that this was the reason the Douchebag had decided Mondo was going to use to fire the Rocker.

"And you let a bunch of bikes fall down yesterday," said the Douchebag, "and didn't tell Chicken Little. This is unacceptable."

"Am I fired?" asked the Rocker.

"We decided to move you to Parts," said the Douchebag, "Mondo doesn't want you in sales anymore."

"Okay," said the Rocker.

Dickie sent out a memo that anyone who knocks over a bike will be terminated.

Gollum goes American Chopper

Gollum is in charge of used bikes, i.e. purchasing crap for nothing and selling it for a little bit more than nothing to unwary customers. His biggest claim to fame being his "roach" of a cruiser, "I put the grinder marks on the pipe myself!" and the two bikes on the lot, purchased for $200 (total) and put back on sale for about $1500 (apiece) never mind the rust pitting, the old, unsafe tires and the fact that they'll probably grenade before they get off the lot.

So one day (so the story goes) Gollum lands on a gold mine. A ten year old Yamaha sportbike, with a wonderful (for a six year old) paint job, almost frozen steering head bearings and bad suspension. Of course he buys it and it goes in back for service to try and make it saleable. But Gollum knows that by the time the mechanics make it safe to drive, all the profit will be gone. So he calls a buddy who has been scraping change for a year to buy his first bike (can you say SUCKER?). His buddy, all unawares, thinks Gollum is doing him a favor.

Now there's only one hitch in the ointment (yeah I know). This fly in the pudding so to speak is that Chicken Little just made a new "rule". Now you have to understand, Chicken Little's main job at this dealership is to keep it an ongoing tax shelter for all of Cowtits®' gambling losses, i.e. it's his job to make sure they lose money (and figure prominently in Dickie's dreams). This newest rule is that no bike can be sold with aftermarket stuff on it. So when they purchase a used bike, they have to put stock blinkers etc. on them. Somehow they manage to leave the aftermarket pipes and whatnot on, but the blinkers are a big deal to him. Ya know, it's ok to do some illegal things, but not others depending on the day of the week, the position of the moon and whether Chicken Little is having a bad hair day or not.

So Gollum heads in back to get the bike ready for his unwitting friend. The front goes just fine, he slaps on a couple of stock type blinkers and then heads for the back of the bike. Oh my, no blinkers at all. Three grinder wheels, four blinkers and two bandaids later, he has "fabricated" a new rear fender, complete with blinkers and taillight, 'cuz that's what makes this bike unsafe, not the bad bearings in the steering head, the bald tires, leaking fork seals or bad rear shock.

The next day, Gollum and Comic Book Guy are outside with Gollum's friend (Comic Book Guy spends most of his time outside, trying to keep enough nicotine in his system so that he can function).
The Sucker (friend) is beside himself with joy, he can finally afford a sportbike. Now maybe he can lose his virginity (at 30 it was starting to worry him that he hadn't yet). His bedazzled senses skim over all the glaring defects in the bike, the bad paint, the scraped and broken levers and pegs....all of it. He doesn't even care that he doesn't know how to ride or doesn't even have a license (a fact ignored by Gollum as he hands over the keys).

So Gollum and Comic Book Guy watch Sucker stall it three times in the parking lot, and twice on the street, their arms become tired from waving because it takes Sucker about 20 minutes to get out of sight.

Gollums leans into the cloud of smoke surrounding CBG and says "That's some good fabrication work man, but I sort of feel like I should have hooked up the taillight and blinker wires".

Stay tuned, Sucker comes back the next day.

Moving On Up

Cowtits® and the Douchebag used to bless us with their presence a couple of times a week. The rest of the time, the Douchebag would stare drunkenly at his security monitors all day long and email Chicken Little with advice as to how to further demoralize the staff. Occasionally Dickie would personally call an employee and expound on such topics as how to close doors, sweep floors, or clean off desks.

Dickie sees all.

When Cowtits® and the Douchebag came to town, they would stay at nice hotels and pamper themselves with fine meals.

Cowtits® always brought back leftovers for Gollum and Chunks.

Suddenly, that's changed.

Dickie and Cowtits® are living in a motorhome behind the dealership and eating the hotdogs they bought and froze for Bike Nite. He's looking a little ragged every morning. I'm not sure if it's the after effects of too much drink or lack of sleep while watching his life slowly slip into the shit.

Big Opie VIII got online and found out Dickie's really nice house is in foreclosure.

Maybe that's why we had the Christmas party at BW3 this year instead of their McMansion on the hill.

Opie Tries to Score

Big Opie VIII came to Saint Manure from the bad dealership on the rough side of the tracks. He was let go for lack of sales. In other words, Big Opie VIII can't close a door. Maybe it's because he's always whacked out on prescription meds.

When we hired him, Big Opie VIII told the Douchebag that he couldn't pass a drug test because he is on doctor's orders to remain under a self induced coma.

The Douchebag demanded that Big Opie VIII tell him what the doctor prescribed. Though illegal to make this demand, the Douchebag made Big Opie VIII's employment contingent on this disclosure.

Once he got here, Big Opie VIII stood in front of the glass doors, responding occasionally to light and movement of big objects on the street outside. He has sold little.

Comic Book Guy was trying to sell an exceptionally attractive woman her first motorcycle. Big Opie VIII started to talk to her while Comic Book Guy was in the sales office trying to put a deal together on a Honda cruiser.

"I'm so excited about learning to ride," she said.

"I've helped a lot of new riders," replied Big Opie VIII, "You should start out on a sport bike like my Yamaha R1. It was just dynoed and it puts out 162.93 horsepower. I used to be a racer until I hurt my back in a high side at Daytona."

"I'm going to take the course and my friend is going to teach me too,"

"I hope your friend is as good an instructor as I am, because I've had six friends killed on motorcycles in the last few years. Maybe you should go for a ride on the back of my bike first. I used to be racer before I hurt my back."

Big Opie VIII stuck another morphine lollipop in his mouth and watched the woman leave. He was sure she'd be back to see him. They'd talked.

"Where'd my customer go?" asked Comic Book Guy, returning with an approval from the finance company.

"She said she had to go to work," said Big Opie VIII, "I'm going to fuck her when she comes back. She's hot."

Then Big Opie VIII clocked out and went home for a two hour nap and intravenous drip of narcotics.

It's Always Fun Until Somebody Takes Out a Waverunner

The weather has been downright freaky lately. Freakier than the thoughts that pass through Chicken Little's mind when he creeps past schoolyards in his blacked out van. A storm left the parking lot in front of Saint Manure covered with a layer of hail.
Giant Robot decided this would be a good surface to practice his drift racing skills.
He loaded himself up with medical marijuana, stuck his favorite song from "The Fast and the Furious 2" on his MP3 player, and started drifting back and forth across the parking lot, sliding on the ice.
Onto the ever expanding list of things Giant Robot does not do well can be added Drift Racing.
Somehow, the car got away from him and hit the one waverunner we wheel out on a stand every day. The Waverunner fell over and broke, to put it mildly, and Giant Robot hid his car in the Supermarket parking lot next to Saint Manure and then hid back in Shipping and Receiving.
Though everyone in Sales and Parts saw it happen, nobody thought to inform Chicken Little, nor to identify the culprit.
When Chicken Little saw the damaged Waverunner on it's side leaking oil onto the ice, he ran into his office, locked the door, and called Dickie the Douchebag.
All Dickie caught on tape was was the Waverunner falling into the frame and bouncing a couple times on the parking lot.
Chicken Little asked the employees one by one if they'd seen anything.
"There were two n... black guys in the parking lot a while ago," said Big Opie, sucking on a morphine lollipop, "They do things like this a lot. I'll bet it was cool to watch."

Dickie sent out a memo that parking the waverunner where his video cameras can't watch it is grounds for termination.

Crash

The Whiner sent Jethro out to pick up a customer's bike. The customer wrecked and wants us to fix it.

The bike looked like it slid about 200 feet down the road on both sides then catapulted ten feet in the air and came down on it's nose.

When he got there, Jethro jumped on the bike, and tried to push it up into the truck. The steering was locked, so the bike turned left and then fell over.

Now the customer is pointing out the damage Jethro did and saying we have to replace all the plastic on the right side of the bike and buy him a new exhaust, or give him $4,000.

Later this afternoon, Dickie the Douchebag sent out a rambling drunken memo from home to all the employees that riding a customer's motorcycle with the steering locked is grounds for termination. Going forward, before Jethro loads a customer's motorcycle in our truck, he has to take eleven different pictures of it first. The angles are clearly laid out in the memo.

Giant Robot

Giant Robot has a medical marijuana license and wants to sell motorcycles. The combination of backroom breaks for medical purposes and a vocabulary derived from watching too many hip hop videos make it hard for him to understand and be understood. He does connect well with stoned wiggers.
Chicken Little told Giant Robot that he, Chicken Little, will help Giant Robot learn to sell motorcycles. All Giant Robot has to do is have his fingerprints taken and get his salesperson's license.
Giant Robot puts it off and puts it off. Meanwhile, Chicken Little is extremely pleased to help Giant Robot sell bikes. It's not that much work. It's really nothing. There are an awful lot of stoned wiggers in Saint Manure, and Giant Robot's closing technique seems to involve taking them out to see his bike and all the crap he's bolted on it, and then spend half an hour out by the dumpster getting stoned.
Giant Robot is happy selling bikes.
Then payday rolls around, and Chicken Little realizes Giant Robot is not too stoned to figure out that Chicken Little has been stealing half his commissions.

Another Money Saving Idea From Cowtits

At the start of this month, CowTits® sent out a memo that we are to save all the empty toilet tissue rolls. There is a bag for them in the breakroom, and she has put Jethro in charge of making sure it is used.

CowTits® says the dealership is using too much toilet paper.

This morning, CowTits® brought down a contraption and set it on one of the salesdesks.

It is a device she found on the internet that allows you to take a roll of two ply toilet paper, turn a crank and separate it into two rolls of single ply.

So Jethro and Shakes the salesman spent the morning separating a case of toilet paper into two.

Bike Nite

We have a bike night now. Instead of holding it at the big bar next door to Saint Manure, we hold it in our parking lot. Occasionally a guy does wheelies up and down the side parking lot. It's like a stunt show, but free.

Dickie the Douchebag decided he doesn't want to hold Bike Night in a place where people want to go and have fun over a couple beers, so we lure them in with free hotdogs and water.

Mondo says that's what they feed prisoners in South America.

CowTits® put up a sign that says you can have a free hotdog if you buy something.

Finanncial Genius

Chicken Little knows Finance Managers make a lot of money. More than mechanics. So he told the Douchebag that he wants to be the Finance Manager.

Mondo does most of what a Finance Manager does at the dealership, and he was surprised that we don't pull credit reports when we are trying to get people financed.

He told Chicken Little that one of the reasons you need to pull a credit report is so you can argue with the lender that your customer deserves a loan.

"What makes you think you're a credit expert?" asked Chicken Little.

"Don't you call the lender back and try to get an approval?" asked Mondo.

"Yes, and they tell me what's in the credit report. I think they know better than you."

So Dickie made Chicken Little the Finance Manager. Chicken Little promptly put policies in place that violate several Federal and State Statutes.

Dreaming Of a White Chicken

The Douchebag dreams about Chicken Little.

"I had a dream about you last night", he said to the bandy legged little fellow, "You were in a motorcycle race, and were in first place. The announcer said you were in the lead, and I was yelling for you to win, but you couldn't hear me."

Chicken Little flicked his hair back and put it into a ponytail.

Fallout

The Monday after we fired the Little Criminal, there was a mad rush of Mexicans clammoring through the doors claiming the Little Criminal had offered them free helmets, boots, goggles and jackets. Many of them claimed to have no loan or contract papers, a couple of brothers said the Little Criminal offered them free winches, and one miserable soul told the Douchebag that he had made his last two payments directly to the Little Criminal and didn't understand why Honda is threatening to repossess his ATVs.

Dickie is concerned, because if word gets out that the Little Criminal was stealing from customers, that might hurt Saint Manure's already piss poor reputation. On the other hand, he remembers hearing the Little Criminal talking Mexican with some of the customers, and can't tell what they were saying, so he is suspicious that the Little Criminal is calling his customers and setting them up to go in and ask for free stuff.

He is.

The Little Criminal also called Comrade Dumbass's stupid girlfriend's father and explained that because Dickie the Douchebag knew he was selling a motorcycle to the Stupid Girlfriend even though she only had a state ID card, that the purchase was a Straw Purchase, and illegal and against the policy of the lender. So in addition to all the free gear we are giving away and restitution we are making for the payments the Little Criminal collected, we may be eating a fairly fucked up Suzuki GSXR600.

What if Giant Robot finds out that instead of being buried in the R6 he wants to get rid of, his girlfriend can just call the lender and tell them that it was also a straw purchase? Until Mondo pointed out to Dickie that straw purchases of motor vehicles are illegal, the Douchebag was happy to ruin young girl's credit so their loser boyfriends could have sportbikes.

The Switch

Mondo got a call from a nice guy who bought his kids an ATV for Christmas.

"I think the Little Criminal switched papers on me," said the customer, "Is that why he doesn't work there anymore?"

"what do you mean?"

"I bought this quad for my kids for Christmas for $2999, and it included the free extended warranty and tires, and when I got the bill, it was for $7843."

"There is freight and prep, and a doc fee, and taxes."

"I don't think it's that much. That's almost double. There was a problem with my paperwork, so the Little Criminal had me meet him in the parking lot of a Taco Bell to re-sign the contract. I think he switched it then."

"Do you have the original contract?"

"It's somewhere in my garage."

"You should find it."

" I'll look for it, but the bill is due now, and I don't want to pay $7843 for a $2999 ATV. What should I do?"

"Call back and ask to speak to the Douchebag. He's handling all these calls."

Free Candy

Chicken Little is more than a little creepy. He lives in a van beside the dealership, and eats all his meals in the van. It's a faded Ford Windstar with black tinted windows. Chicken Little buys all his food and clothes at the 99 cent store. He came out of retirement to help his friend out, and likes new salespeople because he can take half their commissions until they figure out what he's doing. By then he has made them so miserable, they quit.The sales department at Saint Manure Motorsports has more than a 400% turnover rate. The Douchebag complains because we can't find people who will both do as he wants them to do, and sell a lot of motorcycles.

Adios, Little Criminal

While not claiming cowardice, the Douchebag prepared a termination letter for the Little Criminal and handed it to Mondo, then cowered in his office.

Mondo paged the Little Criminal to his office repeatedly.

There was no answer.

Repeatedly.

Having had enough of the suspense, and realizing that he was under close scrutiny by Dickie and Cowtits in the office upstairs, Mondo went out and found the Little Criminal hiding behind a tree in the parking lot, offering a woman who came in to look at scooters a free helmet and riding lessons.
-It's like that?, asked the Little Criminal, looking over the termination letter full of made up charges that would annoy your menopausal aunt.
-Fraid so, said Mondo, "The Douchebag's been building a case for quite a while."
There was a pause.
-and he wants your shirt back, said Mondo.
The Little Criminal took his final check and the termination letter and went out to the parking to make a few phone calls, talk to his co-conspirators still at Saint Manure, and remove his shirt.Lettle did we know that these was just the beginning. There was much the Little Criminal did that needed to be unravelled.

CSBeatdown

The CSB decided to make things right with Freddie Fife.
Freddie finally got tired of scarfing up salty spunk oysters from her tired old love prune and waking to the heady pickle of sour junkie sweat on his sheets after too many bouts of hot steamy sex that she failed to stay awake during, and unceremoniously dumped her ass by leaving her in the rain in a Lowes parking lot.
The CSB found out Freddie Fife was on a top secret State Highway Patrol mission doing security guard duty at a county fair.
So she showed up and told him that she loved him.
But it came out all wrong, because she was drunk and high on life and vicodin. In order to better state her case, the CSB began to hit Freddie Fife with her fists and scream at him that he is a fucking asshole and a son of a bitch and that she hopes he dies.
This did not go over very well with fairgoers and the people who hired Freddie Fife to keep the peace. Nobody pays good money to see their rent a cop beaten up by a tweaker.
So Freddie Fife did what any experienced law enforcement officer does when assaulted by a stubby foul mouthed ex-girlfriend in public.
Freddie called for backup.
Two security guards came running. When they saw what was going down, they stopped in place and laughed their asses off and called everyone with a walkie talkie over with "Officer needs assistance, you got to see this." Freddie Fife was backed against a fence, the CSB was swinging for the cheap seats, calling him the biggest fucking asshole she'd ever met in her life, screaming at the gathering crowd that he has a small dick and will fuck you over and leave you too, even in the ass. Parents were alarmed, and kids in strollers were laughing at him. So Freddie Fife said, "Quit laughing and get this bitch off me."
The security guards grabbed the CSB by an arm each. Freddie handcuffed the CSB and escorted her to the nearest State Highway Patrol car. Despite Freddie's professional expertise in placing her into the back seat, the CSB managed to attack the hood and rear window at least twice each with her face and the door pillar repeatedly with her forehead until she shut the fuck up.
After three and a half hours of screaming and puking in the back of the car, the CSB calmed down and/or passed out. So Freddie Fife had another officer drive her home and arrange her on her front lawn.
The next morning, which started at 2:37 in the afternoon for the CSB, she staggered into the Lazy K, looking like she'd spent the night suspended in a tree above blindfolded Mexican kids with baseball bats.
The CSB plans to sue for security guard brutality.
Apparently the entire altercation and the aftermath was caught on videotape, and it is quite entertaining to watch and listen to. Will someone please post it on Youtube?

Coming Through

Famous Nobody, the drag racing moron nobody has ever heard of, decided to drive an ATV through the double glass doors of the service department. So he did. The doors shattered and popped out of their frames.
Famous Nobody walked through the LazyK covered in glass shards, laughing like the Grand Marshall in a one retard parade of Village Idiots, because he's really cool and does neat things like riding a customer's ATV through the service department doors.
The CSB called Famous Nobody a fucking idiot and went back to her computer, where she now trolls Yahoo messenger looking for dates. Star's dumb as bricks Meal Ticket still helps the CSB spell out the big words.
Star wants to fire Famous Nobody, but he's the only mechanic in town who is too incompetent to get a job anywhere else, and from time to time Famous Nobody comes through with happy pills when the CSB is a little tense.
Who's going to tell Old Crusty how the door got broke?

Rumors of Drug Testing

The wonderful employees at the Lazy K receive a phone call from a reliable source that the Lazy K will soon be drug testing. They have never drug tested before, and it was an unwritten rule that you had to do drugs to get a job there.

Fearless leader calls an emergency meeting bout the problem. Frantically explaining to everyone, that if anyone has a habit, they need to clean it up right away! As the staff looked around at each other, Friar Tuck pipes up “Well, I’d say we are all fired.” Fearless leaders face turned bright red. “This is not a joke!” he barked. Poor Fearless Leader, how will he ever quit smoking weed? He smokes on the way to work, at lunch, on the way home and all night long.

If Lazy K really does drug test they would have to fire their own daughter. “We (the owners) are doing this to save money on our workman’s comp. so all you fuckin crackheads are gonna have to straighten up!!” Prime example of the pot calling the kettle black.
10/6/06

Customer Service

Yesterday a customer bought a small motorcycle for his son. He was told by the CSB that he could pick the bike up between 11 and noon. He came in around a quarter to twelve, with kid in tow.

Star, the assistant manager, was having a discussion with the manufacturer's rep from Suzuki about the Customer Service Index. This is a way of measuring a customer's satisfaction with the sale and the dealership. Ours is surprisingly low. Star had just gone to a three day Suzuki CSI seminar and is gung ho to implement the things he's learned and improve our CSI. Nobody else at the Lazy K wants to implement anything. Fearless Leader says the dealerships that get high CSIs "kiss the customer's ass." And he's not going to kiss anyone's ass. He did enough of that in prison.

So Star is talking to the rep about improving customer satisfaction, and the guy comes in to pick up his son't new motorcycle. It isn't here.

The CSB picks up the phone and calls our warehouse, then starts asking "where's the fucking bike," while the customer, his kid and the manufacturer's rep are nearby. "I ask you to do one fucking thing, and you can't even do that. Get it up here now."

She listens a bit.

"Put the fucking thing together and put it on the truck today."

She listens a bit and slams down the phone, then puts her smile back on. "It will be here later. When would you like to pick it up?"

"When it's here," the customer replies.

"It will be here later this afternoon." She smiles sweetly.

The customer leaves and the CSB turns to the Rhino and starts swearing about the idiots who put the bikes together.

I wonder what the Manufacturer's Rep was thinking.

10/6/06

How the Lazy K keeps customers

You know how you take a date out and you hope that you can get them drunk enough to lower their inhibitions? Yeah, that's how the Lazy K keeps customers. If the CSB gets messed up enough the prices become lower.
The salespeople know this and take advantage. Especially that lezbo Beans, she tells all her little rug munching friends when to come in and purchase a new bike. Go Dykes on Bikes!

10/5/06

Customer Complaints

Today a guy who'd had his motorcycle in service for over three weeks just asked the service department to put it back together like it was when he brought it in to be fixed. It was running then, and hasn't since they started working on it.

The customer complained to the CSB and she waited until he left, then called him an asshole and paged Daffy the service writer and told him not to do anything for the asshole, because he was a litigious asshole and would sue us. When he left, she called Daffy an idiot because the service department, lacking basic diagnostic equipment, couldn't fix the asshole's bike.

10/5/06

Bandit Likes Chicken

Mondo is on the low carb diet again. Yesterday he bought and ate an entire chicken. Maybe he needs to practice portion control.

After devouring the entire chicken, he put the bones and packaging in the trash container behind his desk.

Bandit got into the trash and dragged the chicken carcass through the dealership, eating the bones and growling at the poodle whenever he tried to take a bite. The CSB saw this and went berserk, screaming at Bandit to stop eating the chicken, the poodle to get away from it, and Mondo that if her dog got sick she would kill him.

Mondo wasn't at work yet, because he is always the last one to get there and the first one to leave, so he missed her calling him an asshole, a fucking idiot, and all the other pet names she has for her employees. The CSB went on venting, telling customers what an awful person Mondo was, and making several threats against his life. She got on the phone with her mother and told her what Mondo did, and that if anything happened to her dogs she would kill him and he'd be the one paying the fucking vet bills. In all likelyhood she meant that he would pay the fucking vet bills and then she would kill him. It wouldn't work very well the other way.

Apparently one should assume dogs will rummage through the garbage beside one's desk at work.

Finally, when Mondo showed up, the CSB put on her best insincere smile and asked him to please throw his chicken carcasses in the dumpster. She's like that after the drugs kick in.

Day old chicken quickly passes through a dog, and Bandit spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon leaving big pungent piles of dogcrap in various places throughout the dealership.
10/4/06

It's a bird, it's a plane, no, it's Fearless Leader!!!!

Today Friar Tuck sold a Suzuki DR650. Friar Tuck is a bitter and angry fat man who is happiest making other people miserable. Fearless Leader decided to show the world what an awsome rider he is while taking the bike back to the Service Department for the predelivery inspection. He got on the bike and raced across the parking lot. He raced back in the other direction. He sped up, and there was a loud crash. Fearless Leader hit the liquor store. He came limping back into the dealership complaining that his knee, now the size of a basketball, was bothering him.

The customer was scheduled to take delivery of the bike an hour after the crash. Friar Tuck had to call him and tell him not to come because the bike did not pass the predelivery inspection.

Fearless Leader went around to all the departments and all the employees and entertained them for what seemed like days with a description of the accident, other accidents he'd been in, other accidents he'd heard about people being in and people he'd never met or heard of who may or may not have been in accidents. This went on for a long time. Finally, Fearless Leader went home. Happiness settled over the Lazy K.

But it was shortlived, for Friar Tuck followed behind Fearless Leader, complaining to all who would listen about the lost sale.

The CSB found out Fearless Leader wasn't wearing a helmet. She made all the employees in service sign a statement that they knew they had to wear helmets when they ride customer bikes, under threat of termination. Fearless Leader decided to show up at work stoned out of his mind on pain meds. He started acting even more stupid than usual, so the CSB convinced him to go home.

Once he left, the CSB referred to Fearless Leader throughout the day and during the course of his recuperation as a fucking idiot. He is a fucking idiot, and she called one right for once.

first published 10/3/06

The Poodle Bites

Today the CSB's poodle bit a little girl. It broke the skin on her wrist. As soon as she started crying, the CSB ran right over and gave her parents a really good deal on an ATV, which pissed the CSB off to no end. As they were leaving, the CSB started saying they were awful parents to let their little girl wander off alone in a store, and that the little girl probably did something to make the poodle bite her.

First published 10/3/06

Taco Dave From AOL

The CSB has a new boyfriend. They met on AOL. He is 23 years old, of Mexican descent and his family doesn't like the CSB. She went to dinner at their house and passed out at the dinner table into a plate full of enchiladas. Taco Dave's mother is quite proud of her enchiladas and the rest of the family was hungry and didn't want to eat them after the CSB went into them face first when the vicodin kicked in. So they don't like her and think she is bad for their son, the drunk who gets into bar fights and spends a lot of nights in jail. He works for Honda, and that's how they tell people they met. On his profile he has an important job and makes a lot of money. In real life Taco Dave doesn't look like he's doing that well. On her profile the CSB is only 37. In real life she's 48. You can't believe everything you read on the internet. She is screaming less today.
She was screaming less, until she got a letter from a customer threatening to picket the Lazy A if we don't fix his motorcycle. It's been here two months waiting on parts. She checks with Fearless Leader, who goes back to the parts department and discovers the parts haven't been ordered. The asshole customer, for that is his name now, also wrote to the manufacturer and the BBB. Even though she doesn't dare join the BBB, she hates hearing that someone complained. Because she has to hear about it from her mother. Over and over again.
"Baby Hitler, Get up here," she pages the service manager over the PA, "Now!"When he comes up she lays into him about Daffy and Smokey and what idiots they are.It is hard for Paco, the new salesperson, to close a deal at the table he likes so much because it is near the front door when the CSB is screaming at the service manager about what a bunch of fucking idiots his employees are.The more she yells, the louder her dogs bark.
Soon they start to howl. Mr. Moose, who is there feeding the Rhino, starts to howl with the dogs. Paco looks over at her screaming, the dogs howling, and Mr. Moose making them howl even louder. Something bothers him. This is not how they did things at his last job.Taco Dave calls the CSB. He calls her a lot now that he got fired from the manufacturer. She screams at everyone to shut up so she can talk to him. Baby hitler sees an opening and makes his escape, Mr. Moose goes back to feeding the Rhino, and Bandit the border collie goes back to the back of the store and takes another crap on the floor.
First published 10/3/06

SMOKEY GETS SHIT ON

"Help me lift these jet skis, the customers are gonna be here in two F-ing minutes!" yelled the CSB. Beans, a salesperson, rounds up the under educated and under paid mechanics in service to help with the jet skis. The service crew; Baby Hitler, daffy, smokey and a few other ones that no one knows their name because they just started three days ago, move the 800lbs skis for the CSB's customers.
Smokey, yes you know him, the tall skinny guy in the movie Friday. That's right he "works" and is the "best" mechanic at the dealership. After smoking all day long his eyes are blood shot and almost roll in the back of his head when he appears to be thinking. Don't bother to ask him a question, because you would have to smoke an ounce to understand him.
After moving the jet skis, Smokey heads back to the smoke house (service dept.) Smokey's sight being slim to none, on the account of looking a little Chinese, has a hard time focusing on the tile floor beneath him. Next thing he knows his left foot is sliding out in front of him like he stepped on a banana peel. Before he can even force his eyes wide open, to see what his problem was, his nose told him that he just smeared dog shit everywhere! Making brown footsteps all the way to the restroom, he cleans off his shoe. The whole staff was in tears from laughter. Poor Mr. Moose had to clean up the shitty art work left by smokey and bandit, the dog.
Two days later the health department visited the dealership, to give the CSB a warning. This did not make the CSB happy. As usual when the CSB is having a bad day and there are no maracas to be found, she takes it out on her beloved employees. Secretly she blamed Mondo for the arrival of the health department.
posted by HD_Rep


First published 10/3/06

Fearless Leader Crashes the Company Truck

Fearless Leader is the store manager. He is a tall, toothless ex-con and former alcoholic, and tries to run the store like he was back in the yard. Unfortunately most people don't want to work in conditions similiar to being in lockdown, so turnover is high.

Somehow or another, Fearless Leader got hold of a big bag of xanax bars and decided to bring them to work, and take a few of them while at work. He figured it would be a nice way to pass the day since the CSB was off. He took a couple and didn't feel anything. Now you have to remember that each bar is scored and you are supposed to break off a section or two and take a normal dose of xanax. A bar is equal to about six doses. So he took a couple more bars. Then he started feeling pretty good and figured a few more bars would make him feel even better. So Fearless Leader sat down at his desk on the showroom floor and decided to let everyone in on how good he was feeling.

He used his cell phone to call Baby Hitler, the service manager, and asking "what you doing?""I'm working," said Baby Hitler, who was indeed working, about twenty yards away from Fearless Leader. About the tenth time he received such a call, Baby Hitler asked Fearless Leader what was wrong with him and then turned off his phone. By this time, Ellie May, the receptionist, realized something was wrong with the Leader of the dealership and convinced Fearless Leader to give her the remainder of the Xanax bars after he took about four more, and told her how beautiful her big tits are.

He really likes her tits, and everyone who was near him needed to know that.A little while later, when there was nobody left to tell how much he liked Ellie May's tits and what sort of noises he would make if he stuck his head between them, Fearless Leader decided to show everyone what a great salesperson he was. He went and stood by the front door and spoke to customers as they entered.

"You don't want that bike," he said, pointing to the Gold Wing by the door, or the door itself, "It's a piece of shit, you want this one," he pointed at a dirtbike or the desk or waved his hand in the air like he forgot how to point, "it's really good, man."

Several customers were treated to his opinion and sales were a bit off that day.At about 6 PM someone had the good sense to get Fearless Leader to go home. He of course insisted on driving himself in the company truck. Somewhere during the course of his journey, he sideswiped a car and continued merrily on his way home.Fearless Leader's wife, the straight bulldyke, called the paramedics because she realized he was acting stranger than usual, and that's pretty hard for Fearless Leader to do.

Somehow Fearless Leader mistook the paramedics for Police Officers, remembered some of the bad experiences he'd had with the Police over the course of his life, and began to fight them. Fortunately enough Xanax to stone an elephant had made him easy to subdue, and the Paramedics strapped him to a board and took him to the hospital, where he eventually made a full recovery and returned to being a simple nutcase.

first published on 10/3/06

All new adventures in Motorcycle Hell at http://saintmanure.blogspot.com

Katana Fest

To reflect truth in advertising, we have modified a recent Lazy K ad.

LOOK AT THE INCREDIBLE DEALS ON THE Suzuki Katana that they quit making because it is a turd.
We carry Motorcycles, ATV's, Scooters, & Watercraft from lots of companies who wish we didn't.
We have 5 locations to better screw you over.
We "Ride" what we sell and service except none of us actually ride.
We pride ourselves on customer service and fucking you over.
We have an incredible selection of parts and accessories from three years ago.
We have factory trained technicians at all locations who are invisible
BEST DEAL OF THE SEASON! WHILE SUPPLIES LAST! NEW 2006 Suzuki Katana
NO FREIGHT!
NO PREP!
NEW 2006 Suzuki Katana WAS Nine Million Dollars.... NOW ON SALE FOR $29.50 PLUS the highest DOC FEE you can imagine, TAX, TITLE, & TEMP TAG... NO HIDDEN CHARGES! Because we are being sued by the District Attorney right now for putting hidden charges in contracts.

The CSB Chases Down the FedEx Driver

It's that time of the month for the CSB. Not that time of the month. It's always that that time of the month for the CSB. This time of the month is the time the FedEx driver brings her month's supply of "pain" meds. But where is he? The CSB calls the pharmacy, up in Canada. They give her a tracking number and she screams at the Buddha to get the fuck off the computer. He is running a credit application to see if someone can buy a motorcycle, which is what the company does, sell motorcycles. So the CSB gets online and sees that the delivery has not been made yet, even though it is 10:12 in the morning and the delivery should be there by 10 AM. So she calls FedEx and starts screaming at the customer service rep, demanding that they stop what they are doing, and bring her the package. She really needs that package, and it is after 10. The "fucking bitch" on the other end of the phone explains to the CSB that it is not FedEx policy to drop what they are doing and deliver a package, and assures her that the package will come a little later. As she screams at the FedEx customer service rep, the phone somehow becomes disconnected, causing her to let off a tirade heard by everyone within earshot about those fucking assholes who work for FedEx. She calls FedEx back and is very nice this time, asking if they can tell her where the driver is, so she can go pick up the package in person. Apparently this too is against FedEx policy, because she calls the person on the other end of the line a fucking cunt and slams the phone down hard.

About twenty minutes later the FedEx driver walks in. He stops at the door and shakes the package. Hearing a sound like a maraca, he knows where to take it.

More Motorcycle Madness at http://saintmanure.blogspot.com

First published 10/3/06

The CSB Screams at Mondo

Today the CSB had a fight with her mother about parking in her parent's driveway while they are away on vacation. So she was a general bitch to everyone who got in her way. Then she went around the store finding people to be a bitch to. She screamed at the Rhino about an ATV that was supposed to be there and wasn't, and called her mother a fucking bitch after hanging up the phone. She told the Rhino and Buddha, the finance manager, that she hopes her mother dies, then, about an hour later, after the meds kicked in, said to them that what she meant is that she hopes her mother dies before her father.

Mondo, one of the salespeople who works for the CSB, was sitting at the office computer, trying to find out if he was enrolled in the Polaris "earn a toaster by selling our crap" program. He realized the Rhino had already signed him up. He was in the process of thanking the Rhino when the CSB screamed for him to "shut the fuck up and get the fuck away from the computer," loud enough to be heard across the store, which is an old supermarket.

First published 10/3/06

The Rhino Loves Mr. Moose

The office manager is a giant illegal alien from Mexico we fondly refer to as the Rhino, instead of "the incredibly hideous creature of superhuman size and strength." She looks like a sasquatch, but with more bodyhair. After years of bad experiences with men, she decided to become a lesbian. Her new companion is Mr. Moose, a young woman with a bad flattop and cheap tatoos on both arms.

For a while Mr. Moose was working at the Dealership as a janitor, mannish sounding receptionist, and dog shit picker-upper (which is a full time job). Now she works at Walmart, but spends all her free time at the dealership, running out to get fast food to keep the Rhino sleek and shiney, and scratching the Rhino's thick hide. There is nothing more appealing than watching big women stuff themselves with Carls Jr. several times a day. The Rhino calls Mr. Moose "bunny" and Mr. Moose calls the Rhino "bear."

If you are a man and think it would be cool to watch lesbians make out, come in and watch the Rhino and Mr. Moose kiss behind the counter. Strong men lose their lunch and parents usher their kids out of the building.

First published on 10/3/06

Check out http://saintmanure.blogspot.com for your motorcycle hell updates.

The CSB Writes Daffy Up.

Today the CSB wrote up Daffy the service writer three times in five minutes. She won't fire him, because she doesn't want to pay unemployment, so he continues to make customer's lives hell. He can't go anywhere else and get a job. When customers ask Daffy about his job he tells them "I don't know anything about motorcycles, but I think they are cool and it is fun to work in a motorcycle shop." For some reason the CSB hoped Daffy would quit if he got written up three times in five minutes, but he proved too smart. So she went back a half hour later, after the drugs kicked in, and told him she hopes he is there forever.

She also wrote up Shaggy, the parts manager, because he went to the hospital with his wife while she had an emergency operation instead of coming to work. The CSB told him she wrote him up so he would stay focused on his job.

Yesterday Daffy mounted a customer's tires backwards twice, and scratched the hell out of the rim. But he doesn't care, and the CSB won't fire him.

First published 10/3/06

check out http://saintmanure.blogspot.com/ for more adventures in motorcycle dealership hell.

Moving On Up

The FSB has left the building. She moved out of her house and into an apartment in the ghetto, so she and her offspring can be near her new boyfriend, Inky. Unlike the CSB, the FSB doesn't like having to drive to score her drugs. So now that she's gone, the Homeless guy gets to move out of the polebarn and live in the big house.

Old Crusty went by the LazyK the other day and had a discussion with the Homeless Guy about his future with the company. The conversation ended with Old Crusty shouting "You haven't earned a paycheck in three years," and storming out.

Meanwhile, Freddie Fife is taking the CSB and the new blonde in his life to the same chicken wing restaurant on different nights of the week.

As you may have noticed, many of the most entertaining characters at the Lazy K have moved on.

We invite you to join some of them, and some new characters at Saint Manure Motorsports.

http://saintmanure.blogspot.com

We hope you enjoy the new store.

Thar She Blows

Captain Ahab is a big fat miserable fuck. He comes into the Lazy K and starts demanding things, then buys his bikes somewhere else.  Everybody has wasted too much time at least once finding out Captain Ahab is completely full of shit. So we ignore him and eventually he goes away. In the real world, Captain Ahab yells at his wife and drives a garbage truck.
We have a Triumph America that we took in trade. It's a nice clean bike he can't afford, and Captain Ahab likes Triumphs.
"I want to take that Triumph on a test ride," he said to Mondo.
"Do you want to buy it?"
"I want to ride it. To see if I like it."
"We don't let people take testrides when it's raining and they're wearing sandals and shorts," replied Mondo, and went back to signing Matt Mladin's name to posters he sells on ebay, "This isn't a petting zoo for grownups."
"I know the CSB, and she lets me ride whatever I want."
"She's not here."
So Captain Ahab wandered back to the parts department and Mondo thought he'd seen the last of him. It was only eleven and the CSB has a new fuck buddy she met at Dollar General, so she rarely shows up before two in the afternoon.
But there had been a fight, or she'd been dumped, because the CSB came staggering in, kicking her fucking dog for stopping in the doorway and yelling at Star to get his fucking ass off the computer and help her carry in the business supplies she'd bought at Big Lots. The supplies were mostly South Beach food and canned peanuts. The CSB is on the Low Carb diet. Not the one that works, the other one that makes you fat. You can tell you're in a place that pays well when the boss buys her food at Big Lots.

Captain Ahab waddled over and complained to the CSB that Mondo wouldn't let him testride a bike.

So the CSB put on her convincing smile, apologized for Mondo's complete lack of professionalism, and let Captain Ahab test ride the Triumph in the rain, wearing flipflops and shorts, and without a helmet.

"Thanks a lot," she said to Mondo, "I had to suck his dick for an hour to make him happy after you told the fat bastard he couldn't ride the goddamn bike."

Repo

The Meal Ticket has decided that helping Star manage the Lazy K is much more rewarding than putting her Nursing degree to work. She gets to answer the phones, file papers, and help the CSB decide what color to paint her toe nails. She can bring her little dog to work, and watch the Poodle hump it.  

Unfortunately, Star went out and spent her money like she was going to be a nurse, so they've got some bills.

Now there's one less. A couple of nice guys from the bank came over and picked up Star's Honda VTX1300.

Yes, we have no Polaris

Old Crusty and Polaris had a falling out. They want to be paid for their product, and we can't. So Old Crusty did the only reasonable thing a man of his importance in the world of Powersports can do. He watched them repossess their products.

Three big trucks came and loaded all the Polaris ATVs and Victory motorcycles up. Now we have room for all the left over 2006 models we are paying flooring on, and if we get our finances straightened out, plenty of room for new models too.

Star got some lunch time pussy from a girl who came in looking for a scooter, and the CSB is still fucking the only straight guy in Dog Agility. Paco finally caved in and gave her his wife's pregnancy vicodin and the CSB was as nice to him as she is to her mother's dogs until he couldn't get a refill. So he fed Bandit a pair of left over Taco Bell tacos that he forgot were in his desk over the weekend.

Famous Nobody smacked his girlfriend around when she complained that 9.8 seconds is a good time in a drag race, but not in the sack, so there may be an opening in service for 6 to 24 months.

Shhhh, Don't Tell the New Guy

We've changed the payplan for new salespeople yet again. Instead of hiring and paying competent salespeople, we are going to find idiots that will work for minimum wage and a bonus of between five and eight dollars every time they sell a bike. And they don't have to sell the bikes either. Master Closer Star will be putting the deals together and Paco will be taking care of the financial paperwork.

So far we've tricked one guy into taking the deal. He rides a Kawasaki Concours and apparently can't get a job at McDonalds.

Whatever you do, don't tell him about the commissions and spiffs the salespeople receive under the regular payplan.