Communal narcissist and poopyburner Bern Cacca decides to shed her squeaky-clean facade a bit and try posing for OnlyFarts.
Bored with the lack of attention and revenue from her side-hustle, Bern heads out to the Bourbonnais Buckstars café to grab a cuppa mud. Ennui took over; Bern sat around hoping customers would recognize the wannabe celebrity that is THE Bernadette Cacca, charity singer and Port-O-Dump Proprietor. Nope.
In walks Gothic Diana Ross, local singer and Bern’s next-door-neighbour.
“You walked by Peppi and I and did not even say hi?”
Ennui took over Bern, as Diana heads toward the café bar to place her order, so she starts making up crap to try and smear her, hoping customers might just overhear her.
“Meet me outside” Bern whispers to Diana as she opens the coffeehouse door to exit.
Not wanting to cause a scene, Diana rightfully ignores Bern egging her on.
Bern follows Diana outside and starts hurling insults about her singing.
“You sing like a dying cow!” Bern screams to Diana as she lunges toward her.
Moron Kombat begins. Gothic Diana Ross knocks out Bern Cacca with one blow to her turd-eating piehole and walks to her car, not a drop of coffee spilled, unlike the bulbous Bernadette Cacca whose spilled hers all over the pavement.
A few years from now, Communal narcissist and poopyburner Bern Cacca, who wanted to be everybody’s friend, but only to use them finds herself forced out of Manteno and into the pits of Hell.
“Did you do those things to help, or to make yourself look good?”
“Uhhh…”
“And how many times did you admit you did something wrong. Count them. I will wait. So will my visiting intern Gothic Diana Ross. She will take you to your cell. Do you prefer jagged rocks or bubbling excrement?”
“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.
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.
Looking for a dog-food date, Sybil Kibble places a want-ad. Look at all those hot contenders!
What a surprise, Diego — err — Dr. Diego.No way, certainly he meant to email Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes.Though she may be very fit, Sybil passed on this guy, as he reminded her too much of Manteno sociopath and poop-enthusiast Peppi Cacca. Why use dating apps when these very single men can just slide into her inbox?Sybil took a break from dating apps and listened to her favorite Boy band, The Texas 7. Aren’t they dreamy? Ahhh…
“You know, Bernadette: You cannot exactly drift a car with your suspension out of whack,” Gothic Diana Ross says to her next door neighbor Bernadette Cacca, as she peels out her Manteno driveway for the zillionth time and veers to the side of the road, releasing an awful stench since her oil is running on fumes.
“Are you burning rubber, or are you burning poopies?”
MoronicArts 
You must be logged in to post a comment.