Happy June from The Moroniverse! The Midwest lunch bunch carries the weight of the world’s largest carrot on their shoulders. We would like to thank the Universe for all the story-fodder, all that moronic inspiration, and Sybil’s mom JoAnn Kibble.
Manteno morons and portable toilet entrepreneurs Peppi and Bernadette Cacca cook the chicken burritos from Hell, so stinky they can be smelled all the way down in Kankakee. “What is this stench? It smells like chicken and dead bodies!” Kankakee denizen Sybil Kibble cries as she takes out the trash at her Kankakee McMansion.
“That’s it, I had enough!” the Caccas’ next door neighbor Trisha Cobb screams as she blasts her Gothic Diana Ross impersonation music. The Gothic Boss Miss Ross starts belting her impressions of “Where Did Our Love Go” and “You Keep Me Hangin On.”
Peppi and Bernadette Cacca’s orange tabby cat Danielle runs out the door as she has dealt enough with Bernadette’s accordion playing and Peppi’s yelling “git” every time she walks into the bathroom, interrupting his daily puking up last night’s booze. As Danielle makes her way over toward Gothic Diana Ross’ house and into her arms, Peppi decides he needs to plot revenge on his neighbor.
The inebriated Peppi turns on the television and falls asleep in his white tank top and black shorts, only to be awoken by Bernadette’s falsetto singing emanating from her bedroom. Peppi starts watching the infomercial featuring Kankakee pharmacy chain owner and inventor Wally Green featuring some type of Rube Goldberg machine.
“With separate compartments for high fructose corn syrup, formaldehyde and turds, the Turd Machine Deluxe will change your life!” the short, bald, heavyset, older gentleman exclaims.
“Now with a crosshairs and scope, you can aim as you please!” Wally continues to babble on.
Wally and Bernadette are sold. They call to order a gross but only 20 were left since they did not call in time, so the Caccas buy them out.
The 20 packages arrive at the Caccas’ Manteno residence. Suspicious, Gothic Diana Ross hatches a plan. The 5’10”, slender, black-haired, medium-skinned beauty in a black dress huddles with her fellow girl-group singers and their new cat Danielle.
One of the Midnight Supremes takes out her body jewelry, dons a brown wig to cover her blood-red extensions and puts on a pantsuit. She drives over to Peppi’s Port-o-Potties to make an inquiry.
“What do you do with the poop after people are done using your port-o-dumps?” the pretend customer asks.
“We burn it”, Peppi replies nonchalantly. “My wife Bernadette lights her farts to start the process.” Bernadette opens up a huge grin, and lets in a fly, loving the attention suddenly drawn to her. Gulp.
The disguised Midnight Supreme exits the business and gags, nearly tossing her cookies.
The next day, it is cloudy and overcast. Bernadette goes into the storage shed to mount one of the modified salad-shooters-which-now-fires-excrement onto the side of her and Peppi’s house.
“Twelve turd machines left. Someone stole eight of them!” Bernadette growls angrily and proceeds to mount not one but four turd machines, including one she aims out her kitchen window directly at Gothic Diana Ross’ slate Victorian house.
The next day, Gothic Diana Ross briefly steps outdoors to check her mail.
“Bang bang, you’re dead, fifty bullets in the head” Bernadette sings as she cranks the turd machine, firing at Diana and missing every shot. Diana makes it inside, unscathed but angry.
Bernadette turns her back and begins cheering, and then heads into her bedroom to record her next corona-concert for charity on her computer.
When Bernadette finishes her voice, piano and accordion recital for attention — as she does not care about the charity —- she cranks up the volume to make sure she hears the cheering reverberate through her bedroom, loud enough to annoy Miss Ross. “Thank you for another performance from the extraordinary Miss Cacca!” the Manteno Optimal Club spokesperson exclaims. “Bernadette is a national treasure. How can you say anything bad about her!” Bernadette’s already swollen head gets even bigger and she switches off her computer.
“Bernadette B-Flat!” an angered Gothic Diana Ross screams out her window.
“You are needed at a job!” Peppi yells into the room and the pair head over to the worksite, drop off their port-o-dumps and leave.
Peppy and Bernadette head back to the construction site to gather their property.
They haul the portable toilets to their house to clean and disinfect. Peppy empties all the crap into a bonfire in their backyard.
Bernadette goes to light a fart to kindle the port-o-potty-poopy-burners. “Wait, hon, I need to inspect first. All these regulations from Springfield you know!”
Bernadette lights her fart and oh my gosh, it was a big one! Her butt aflame, she lights not only the poopies, but Peppi too!
“Stop, drop and roll.”
“What? Peppi exclaims as he tries to put his clothes out.
Before long, the billowing smoke can be seen as far away as Schaumburg.
“I guess you should not have eaten those burritos, Bern,” Peppi mansplains to his wife.
Manteno moron, port-o-dump proprietor and attention-seeker Bern Cacca is in awe of herself as she watches the televisions at the electronics store. This commercial advertising her and her Peppi Cacca rap about doing their business at Peppi’s Portapotties is displaying on all screens at once. A sales clerk approaches the mesmerized Bernadette, only to get brushed off. So in love with her own image, Bern fails to reflect upon the fact that she is only on TV because she paid to advertise.
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.
This sad playboy — I am putting it nicely — got all butthurt when I messaged him looking for friendship. Yes, friends, as in getting to know each other better. When he replied to my intro question showing interest in his hobbies, all he said was he liked those things. I replied asking him what he would like to know about me and what was his response? Wait for it.
He said yes, go ahead. Confused by his comment, I replied with a simple question mark.
Since he was five hours ahead of me, I did not expect a reply, or even to see him online at that point. It was 8:50 PM my time, 1:50 AM his time.
This luser got all butthurt, saying I was interested in him and got rather cross because I asked him to tell me more about himself. You know, what humans do to get acquainted. Figuring he had something to hide, I blocked him. I wanted no more contact.
Today, ennui got the best of his soul, so he sent me this message right here on MoronicArts to try and mansplain dating, music, or whatever it was he thought I was trying to achieve when I wrote him, because my blog is chock-full o’ pretend and real-life morons like him.
Hmmm. Maybe he sees a little bit of Peppi Cacca and Pat Splatt in himself. Or maybe Damien Hurlbutt since Gareth’s Twitter handle “tungstenfedora” screams neckbeard. Why not get yourself an anime waifu like the other neckbeards, Gareth? Maybe he should get a hobby, I have things to do and am very busy.
Meanwhile, Gareth, enjoy your participation trophy, I mean Moron of the Week Award. Hold onto it really tightly, because I need it for the next moron.
This post brought to you by the letters #MotW.
Watch Carly Simon poke fun at neckbeards in her updated video to “You’re So Vain.”
Looking for a dog-food date, Sybil Kibble places a want-ad. Look at all those hot contenders!
Town troll Leona Krabalsky runs from under her bridge between Kankakee and Bourbonnais after Manteno sociopath and port-a-potty entremanure Peppi Cacca confronts her for selling fake drugs. Peppi brags he has “ARI: Armed Redneck Insurance.”
Communal narcissist and poopie-burner Bernadette Cacca wants to go find this chick and shoot poopies at Gothic Diana Ross out her turd machine together.
https://www.distractify.com/p/kaitlin-bennett-exposed-passed-out-drunk
Manteno sociopath Peppi Cacca and his communal narcissist wife Bernadette wish to advertise their business Peppi’s Portopotties on television. Bernadette plays accordion while her husband raps about how they are king and queen of the throne. Look for their new track on AudioCumulus.
MoronicArts 
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