The petless portapotty princess, part-time bog witch and communal narcadoodle known as Bernadette Moran Cacca struts into the local veterinary clinic looking for new fans, kicks and giggles, since attendance at the Manteno Optimal Club has been dwindling.
“May I help you?” the receptionist Flo says with a smile.
“This may be the most important question I’ll ever ask.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What’s going on with your pet?”
“I have to show you something.” Bernadette hands Mary a flyer.
“Why are you supporting a Bradley business. Are you coming to Bradley?”
“No. If you read the sign, we’re in Manteno, we’re a vet clinic. We treat sick animals and give them routine care.”
“Why are you helping a dog group then?”
“We help a different rescue every month.”
“I need more information.”
“Read the sign, make an appointment, call the groomer. We just put the sign up to help the business out plus the dog charity.”
“Why is it in Bradley? It’s so far away. You’re a Manteno group.”
“We serve all of Kankakee County.”
“You should help all animals, not just dogs. Humans too. Even extraterrestrials. You shouldn’t exclude humans from animal spaces! Make like a tree and go get me the manager!”
“She’s busy.”
“You’re so stupid. I just had a dementia test and I aced it! I had a CAT scan and it was perfect! You’re a low IQ. You take the test, see how you do, then you go get some tigers, elephants, giraffes…See, I know my animals!”
“What a jackass…” customer Jen says softly as she cuddles her cat, chortles at Bernadette’s word salad.
“I’m not a donkey I’m a human! What are you looking at? Hello!”
Bernadette doesn’t get her way, so she just drags her feet across the floor then stares at the wall.
Manager Trish Cobb, better known as Gothic Diana Ross, walks out to help de-escalate the unnecessary monkeying around which seemingly emerged from nowhere at all — just Bernadette’s bum.
“I got a perfect mark-up which you would be incapable of doo-doo-doing. You need to get your marks up! You need to get your marks up!”
“Goodbye Barney!
“It’s Bernie!”
“Who?”
“You know me.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m your neighbor, Manteno’s very best do-gooder of charity. I raised $1000 for—“
“I’ll take first name and last name for $1000, Alex.”
“Bernadette Cacca!”
“A little louder please. For the camera.” Gothic Diana cups her ear.
“I’M BERNADETTE MORAN CACCA!” Bern’s stinky breath blows into Diana’s face, right before Bernadette’s own face turns beet red from getting caught, not from realizing she had just caused a scene for no good reason whatsoever, butt of course.
“Goodbye! You, and you and you guys too!” Bernadette sternly screams as storms out the door, to go start trouble somewhere else. Like a dog licking its nads, she does it because she can.
MoronicArts 
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