Poor Gothic Diana Ross. All she wants to do is lie down in her silky black sheets and take a nap after a long day practicing with her bandmates, Gothic Mary and Gothic Flo in her Manteno home. Nope. Next-door neighbors Bernadette “Bern” Cacca and her husband Peppi are burning port-a-poop again in a backyard bonfire after a job as Bern claps and sings, interspersed by random kazoo sounds. They sure love to farty.
Manteno’s self-proclaimed “giver extraordinaire” who performs accordion covers of pop-tunes to raise money for the photo opportunity, Bernadette Cacca holds a kitschy, Hawaiian-themed shindig to thank her enablers, the Poopy Groupies. She really wants them to know she just loves their continued excellence in bum-kissing and useless-drama creation.
“That’s so bad!” Bernadette says as Peppi leaves the party. “He just came for the food and did not stay. All I do for him! All I do for the world! He just left me here to die alone!”
“He left for the washroom, Bern. I would too if I ate pineapple on pizza,” JB the Turd-Burglar tells his crush, the Manteno Wonder herself, Mrs. Bernadette Cacca.
Manteno’s favourite pretend do-gooder and real poop-doer Bernadette Cacca loves her brown-nosed crew.
JB the neighborhood turd-burglar stole all the crap so she can burn it in her fireplace. What fun.
Aunt Sonya made this beautiful face in honor of Terry Reynolds, the FIRST American. I mean Bernadette. Wait a minute…
Bern recently found out that her paternal grandmother was related to Undead Greg Schneissder (LIKE PRESIDENT TRUMP’S ANCESTORS) so these details add even more beauty to this wonderful day.
And who could forget her husband Peppi Cacca — always by her side (except when horking up prior-night’s moonshine in the washroom).
Manteno communal narcadoodle, port-o-dump proprietor and charity-kazoo-cover-queen Bernadette Cacca wishes she could figure out why her biggest fan, Greg Schneissder, can blast blue flame from his bum when hers always come out yellow and orange. Bern plots revenge on Greg, because, you know she has nothing better to do with her time. Bernadette needs to get a life. Bern gets out her sparkly EyePhone 28 and dials him up. Nobody’s home.
“Why is he so good at farting?” Manteno pretend do-gooder and entramanure Bernadette Cacca asks her husband Peppi upon his return from the half-way house.
“Git!”
“Oh not now, I just showered…” Bog witch Bernadette answers Peppi’s mating call, that same one which had attracted her years ago, while Manteno’s queen of the porcelain throne was bathing in the swamp.
“I dunno…Why don’t you go over and ask him?”
“You’re awesome!”
“Just like the last time…” Peppi responds to Bern’s superlative, giving her the stinkeye as he takes his first puff of a skunky joint, one of many to follow, not the first by any means. The Caccas love anything that stinks.
“Oh no, that’s Bernadette. Don’t let her in, she’ll never leave!” The Midnight Supremes shout out the arched window of their dark stone Gothic Victorian home. All Gothic Diana Ross wants to do is cut the grass. Bern peels out the driveway, around the corner and back by the Midnight Supremes house again.
As Bernadette rolls by she, shouts all mockingly “take the pictures” at the Midnight Supremes who are minding their own business taking video of the weather.
“Grow up, you child!” Gothic Flo defends herself against the abuse spewed by spoiled-brat Bernadette.
“Methinks the trolls are crawling out from under their collective bridges and mothers’ basements again,” Gothic Diana Ross addresses her bandmates, The Midnight Supremes.
“Peppi and Bernadette gang up on me like a bunch of schoolyard children. I am 42. I am starting to think that Bern harassed us out of fear that maybe I was videotaping her, because it’s all about her you know? The funny thing is my video was of the rain; it was raining in one spot only. But those spoiled entitled brats it’s all about them you know? Because nobody else deals with the weather here on Earth right?”
“Yes. The rain is there to annoy those morons.” Gothic Flo deadpans.
Bern Cacca peels into her driveway, runs into the bathroom with her smell-phone and replies to a Fakebook post looking for “10 models” to “type yes in the comments.”
“I’m a plus sized model is that okay?” Bern asks Leona Krabalsky.
“Oh yes, we have a special bonus for you,” sister Doris Krabalsky answers Mrs. Cacca’s query.
“Robert Roy Gary Hurlbutt. I never want to see him, again. However, here I am. Mamma and I unload the van containing the remaining items from our broken marriage he demanded back: pooped-on record albums, Elvis dolls, countless cardboard tubes formerly holding paper of the wrapping and toilet kind.” Robbie’s former girlfriend dictates into her phone.
Back at his unit again, Kay feels bad for Robbie’s new source of narcissistic supply.
“I am sorry” Kay whispers into the young lady’s ear, her eyes’ micro-expression meeting in agreement.
“Just put that over there” Robbie says to her mother carrying a heavy box of ratty blankets.
“Where is Heidi?”
“I gave her away,” Robbie speaks of the cat Kay wanted to keep, the poor lil tortie Robbie speaks about as if she were part of the furniture, mere chattel. Robbie walks over to the washroom and leaves the door a-crack. “Don’t lock me in.”
“I’m Kay.”
“Ann. I go by Annie.”
“Annie?”
“Yeah. I work over at the taco place. I am getting promoted.”
“Congratulations! I am happy for you.”
“It is not much. I got this new name badge which reads “King.”
“I catch your drift. I am thankful for you retail workers.”
Bernadette is running behind to meet The Krabalskys under the I57 underpass for her “modeling.” Extremely impatient, Bern throws a hissy-fit at the Krow-Grrr self-checkout whinging because it doesn’t take CraptoCoin.
“You guys are too woke! I am too good for this! I play all these songs for the Manteno Optimal Club and raise money for them and Ukraine. I wanna talk to the manager! My aunt Sonya knows the owner of this entire plaza!”
“Karen! Karen! Karen!” emerges from the crowd of customers wishing to shop just once sans harassment from the activity-impaired crowd and their ensuing ennui.
“What a dope!” Store clerk Annie King says as she yeets Bern out the door.
“Oh good, I got it! Ha!” Gothic Diana thinks to herself of the exposure captured of her narcissistic neighbor Bernadette Moran Cacca throwing a childish tantrum at the supermarket.
Bernadette meets Kankakee County trolls Doris and Leona Krabalsky under the bridge.
“You need to remove your twitter post about my friend Undead Greg. Especially when you were selfish enough to do what you did and then block him. Because he is the only person who ever farts and that’s all that matters! Look at me, I’m a troll who crawled out from under my bridge because I need to get a hobby and I hate myself. I don’t appreciate the way you treated him about his farts looking prettier than yours. Yeah.”
Gobsmacked, B. M. Cacca’s jaw drops to the floor, realizing she has been duped by people almost as narcissistic as she.
“But if you would like to try our product, we can still get you our special deal.”
“Product? I thought this was a modeling gig.”
“Oh yes, I have these lovely magic beans just for you. They will clean your colon FAST!”
“Will they make me farts turn blue when I light them?”
“Oh yes, they will alright.”
“Sign me up!” Bernadette says to her sisters-in-narcissism as they sell her the overpriced coffee beans. The Krabalskys will do anything for a sale and Bernadette will do anything to brag about her precious farts.
Manteno’s favourite pretend-do-gooder Bernadette Cacca plays accordion cover tunes for the Manteno Optimal Club. She also tries raise funds for Ukraine – and of course – the photo opportunity. Why donate anonymously when you can make it look like you care?
She only accepts Craptocoin, mined the old-fashioned way, donating 10 per cent of her tips to charity. She takes the rest home and burns it in her fireplace.
From what is Craptocoin made? NFTs – Newly Formed Turds!
Butt first, Mrs. Cacca has to drink and eat on her campaign to promote irrregularity for her regulars.
Dealing with narcissists can be a real hurdle. They cross boundaries like it is a competition. Who will win?
Manteno communal narc-a-doodle and entremanure Bernadette Cacca, who plays charity accordion-covers only for the photo opportunity?
Peppi Cacca who only have love for skunkweed?
Kankakee’s Number One Elvis impersonator (who thinks he is really Elvis) and vulnerable narc Robbie Hurlbutt?
Does anybody need to win?
Coming soon: Narc Island – Where all the narcissists are cast away to an uninhabited island to fend for themselves – and leave the rest of us alone. Stay tuned!
“Mary” from Delhi, India called from a spoofed New York number to ask nosey medical questions.
MoronicArts wasted this scammer’s time boring her about Gothic Diana Ross, Peppi’s Portopotties and Norilsk, Russia so she cannot use that time to try and rip off other people.
Get a real job, “Mary.”
Manteno miner of Craptocoin, pretend do-gooder and entramanure Bernadette Moran Cacca, has competition up in Chicago for biggest bail-bond buffoonery.
#PoopingForBernadette
Leon Peeonne takes the wrong bus by mistake. When he realises he is on the wrong bus, he walks out the front door, kicks the side of bus and walks home to see his girlfriend Rachel, who is sawing a forest in her sleep.
Mr. Peeonne wakes up and decides it is time to buy a vehicle. Leon takes the right bus this time, and de-boards at Brandon’s Imbecile Machines in Kankakee, hoping to buy an overly lifted truck to lift his ego.
“What comes in a fully loaded truck?”
“I cover it myself in decals like containing misogynist sayings, one of the Insane Clown Posse dude, and a random letter P. Maybe some Faygo and Cheetos too. Proud Juggalo here.“
The two fools shake hands.
Leon meets Brandon at the financing office to discuss payment.
“Umm, do you accept barters?”
“It depends. What ya got?”
“A case of fat-free oil, a gross of dehydrated water, and 17 cubic zirconia rings.”
“Yeah…no. Do you have any money at all? Cash?”
“Umm, I got these NFTs. Newly Formed Turds.”
Leon pulls out some freshly mined Craptocoin he got from Bernadette Cacca in Manteno after his mother Leona – the Kankakee troll – egged him on to buy the rotten-egg scented craptocash.
Brandon just shakes his head. He does not want any more crap. He is already full of it.
MoronicArts 
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