Manteno bog witch, narcadoodle, and port-a-john proprietor Bernadette Moran Cacca is pooping green with envy because she did not get this brown cake to celebrate her birthday all April Fool’s Month long. Aww, a tiny violin is played in her honor.
Here Bernadette, have a sucker.
Manteno pretend do-gooder and real doo-do-er Bernadette Cacca may not be much of a racer (nor that good a driver), however she found a race specially made for her, because she loves to get the runs (so she can burn them). She would be a regular here. Butt, do they take Craptocoin?
As part of her campaign to promote regularity, Manteno’s very own communal narc-a-doodle, former wrestler and port-a-potty proprietor Bernadette Cacca tries to persuade people to invest in Craptocoin, mined the old fashioned way from NFTs (Newly Formed Turds).
To promote her new app, Craptocoin Registry And Preserved Poop Exchange Resource (CRAPPER), she hires the cover band Manteno Mentors, known to their fans as the MaMentors to perform tunes like this NSFW gem:
Pat Splatt plays guitar, JB The Turd Burglar plays bass, D-Fail of The Chickenheads growls the vocals, and her husband Peppi Cacca is too stoned off skunk-weed to play drums so he smokes his double-fisted doobies to double as fog.
Unfartunately for Bernadette, her CrapApp fails to launch. The MaMentors ditch the bog witch after one gig because she had paid them all in Craptocoin.
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Happy New Year from The Moroniverse!
Out with the old, in with the new. Year 2023, yeet to you!
Are you on the front line battling Hamas? Do you have a neighbor who just grinds your gears? Did Bernadette Cacca stink up your store’s washroom again? Get on people’s nerves using this handy playlist!
“Been drinkin’ again?” Manteno narcissist Bernadette Cacca asks her husband, sociopath and portapotty co-proprietor Peppi Cacca.
“Can you blame me?” Peppi replies as he takes another moonshine swig from a jug marked “XXX”.
“I want a new drug,” Peppi thinks to himself, “one that won’t make me heave.”
Peppi Cacca knows crap is king, after all he and Bern own a portopotty business. Bored with binge-watching the Crap Me Outside Girl rapping on TakTik, Peppi starts looking for videos on how to get high on uTube. After scrolling through pages of unpredictable results, Peppi sits through a four minute commercial and watches a video filmed at Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant.
“Plutonium tastes sweet” the presenter announces.
Intrigued, Peppi asks YooHoo Answers in their Qanonsense section if Queue can tell him if snorting Plutonium can get him high. After all, Peppi believes everything he reads on the Internet.
Peppi goes to Wally Green’s and Bucketheads looking for plutonium to buy, but comes up empty. No 11 per cent off sale for him, no buy one, get one 50 per cent off (but never free) either.
Driving home, Peppi gets stuck at a light at the intersection underneath the I-57 interchange. Under the bridge he spots a wild Leona Krabalsky, the Kankakee town troll.
Peppi drives his crapmobile to the underpass, going through the red stoplight because he thinks the laws do not apply to him. Peppi rolls his window down and yells his mating call “git, git, git” to Leona.
“I don’t want you and I am not for sale!” the elderly hag growls.
“You got some anything good?” Peppi clarifies wearing his turd-eating grin.
“I just might. What’s your pleasure?”
Peppi and Leona shake hands and Peppi peels out after chucking the brown paper bag into his backseat. Peppi rushes back home to meet wife Bernadette at their Manteno shack for dinner.
Bernadette and Peppi sit in their bedrooms, eat their Hardlees burgers and fries and belch a bunch of times. Bern lifts her leg and farts.
“Ahhh, that was a good one,” Bernadette says with glee.
Peppi takes his newly discovered rocks out the paper bag he bought from Leona.
“Mmmmmmmmm…this is sweet” Peppi thinks out loud as he munches on the pebbles.
Then Peppi pukes up his dinner since he was drunk.
Bernadette walks in on Peppi tossing his cookies in their washroom.
“Hey, what’s up?” a nosey Bern asks her beloved Pep.
“Blecccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhh” Peppi repies into the toilet.
“What were those cat turds doing in your bedroom? I need to burn them. Let me light a fart first to spark the flames and then I will watch them burn in the fireplace.”
Bern watches the glisten and pop, all aglow, gleaming like a twinkle in Bern’s eye. “Ooooh, that smell.”
Disgusted that Leona sold him fake Plutonium, Pep cooks up a way to make some cash.
Bern and Pep team up to make a mumble rap video. Pep raps and plays a single snare drum which fell off a truck, while Bern sings show-tunes while playing her accordion she uses to trick people on the internet into thinking she cares about charities.
The video fails to get monetized.
Bern makes a TakTik viral video lighting her farts and burning poopies in her fireplace which her fans adore. Then Bern runs out of poops because the neighborhood turd-burglar JB Martin stole them all.
Bern makes a collection of her own poops to burn since she needed more, and makes more TakTik videos, becoming an “influencer.” Companies offer to mail Bern free toilet paper in return for her becoming their brand ambassador.
As Bern logs into accept the free toilet paper, the Caccas’ fire alarm goes off from the unattended poopies burning in her fireplace.
The Manteno Fire Department rushes over to the Caccas’ house.
Bern screams with excitement when the Waaaaaah Machines wail and fart as the firefighters rush to their house to put out the fire, clapping as they arrive.
“Hi guys, I really love those fart noises your fire engines make. Can I get one of those keen blow-horns for my house? I think they will go great with my accordion routine I do for charity and the Turd machine I mounted on the side of the shack to shoot at Gothic Diana Ross.”
“Shut up and leave, your house is on fire,” the firefighter warns Bern as the two Caccas walk away and watch their house burn, along with the poopies.
After hearing Manteno entramanure, communal narcadoodle and bog witch Bernadette Cacca’s kazoo showtune covers on her husband Brandon’s phone, Pris Dixon tells Bernadette she is her biggest fan and wants to join her fan club, the Poopy Groupies.
After reading the fan message Mrs. Dixon had delightfully shoved into Bern’s inbox, BM Cacca reads this message posted to her Fakebook wall:
“You have been pre-approved to join the Illuminati! Have fun gaining wealth, power and glory in this secret society! Just pay a $19.99 convenience fee to start!
Text “JOIN” to 23
Or contact Emperor Norton to unsubscribe.
Fnord”
Bernadette of course falls for the scamvertisement, and brags at her next Manteno Optimal Club Charity Concert for Tips and Giggles that she had become the world’s newest Illuminatus. Then she blows some more cover tunes out her butt-trumpet.
Pris Dixon interrupts the gig to deliver a special news bulletin, special only in her mind. She complains she did not get her welcome letter, membership card and poop emoji decal. Bernadette farts in her face and keeps on playing, not missing a butt…umm…beat.
“I need to talk to the manager!”
“OK Karen!” one of Bern’s bumlickers heckles Mrs. Dixon.
Sonya Moran, President of The Poopy Groupies pulls Pris Dixon aside.
“Prius, did you pay in Craptocoin?”
“It’s Pris, short for Priscilla. No, I paid cash. Cash is king ya know?”
“We only accept Craptocoin.”
Pris storms out Manteno Optimal Club and calls her hubs, Brandon Dixon, to pick her up.
Brandon pulls his imbecile machine into the middle of the lot, and realizes his biggest crush is inside singing.
The dysfunctional Dixons have a spat and Brandon runs inside to hopefully get an autograph from his steaming hot crush, Bernadette Cacca from the car auto warranty messages. Pris sits alone inside Brandon’s overly lifted shiny white truck, decorated in sexist decals and MAGAt stickers, and rips a huge fart. Of course, she does not roll down the windows because she loves the smell of her own noxious waste.
“Is this…Bernadette…KaCo?”
“It’s Cacca.”
“Hello Mrs. Cankles. This is Mephisto Smith from the Illuminati. Your application got rejected due to insufficient funds.”
“Oh I have plenty of fun. I just met this AWESOME man here at my—“
“Funds. Your transaction failed. We cannot extend you our exclusive fame and fortune unless you pay us first.”
“Oh, let me whip up another batch of NFTs.”
“Mrs. Cocky, I said NSF. In-suff-icient FUNDS.”
“Newly formed turds! I mine my craptocoin the old fashioned way.”
“You need to wire me 19.99 plus a $23 dollar inconvenience fee, or we will reject your application.”
“What’s going on, beautiful lady, Manteno’s very own national treasure?” Brandon Dixon asks the steaming mad pile of crap Bernadette.
Bernadette storms out and slithers her way into the swamp for the night, putting the extra in bog-witch-extraordinaire.
“Honk honk! A-you-ga!” Brandon’s imbecile machine cat-calls as Pris lays on the horn. Brandon reluctantly drives his wife home and barely makes it. Pris of course was running its engine the whole time, because you know, it’s cold?
A wild Peppi Cacca in his natural Manteno habitat utters his mating call.
“Git, git, git” he cries, hoping to mount an approaching Bernadette. Displaying the power of his fragile male ego, the Peppi channels his inner Pepe LePew and tries to kiss the bog witch Bernadette, who runs like a cheetah, hiding; plotting her revenge.
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