Behind the Moroniverse: Peppi and Bernadette

Manteno’s own Peppi and Bernadette Cacca might seem like empty characters at first, however there is a much darker side to them. Like all my characters, the Caccas are inspired by a combination of real people.

Bernadette fires her window-mounted Turd Machine at Gothic Diana Ross

I have known Bernadette’s main inspiration my entire life. She had lived next to my grandmother. As kids, she was the entitled brat who wanted things her way or the highway. I used to try and dodge her, running the other way because she annoyed me so much, but then she would not leave me alone.

I clearly remember her insisting on calling me my deadname, despite my pleas for her to stop. Bernadette hasn’t any concept of boundaries and neither does her main inspiration. She just pretends to care.

In high school, she had found a way to manipulate people into thinking she was a wonderful person. I had to ask her an urgent question for a design I was creating for a play in which she starred, right before I had to catch the bus to trade school to design it. Instead of turning around and answering me, the “stage manager extraordinaire” sitting atop a desk kept talking faster and louder to the other student, drowning me out.

To add insult to injury, the real-life communal narcissist tricked the teacher into making ME apologize to HER. I will never forgive her for that abuse.

The real-life communal narc had been working on an app-only HBO show of some sort and playing piano for an LGBTQIA+ charity. You read that right; the same person who deadnamed me repeatedly is raising money for an LGBTQIA+ cause. Hmmm…

Now she is gaslighting people into thinking she cares about the Russian invasion into Ukraine, singing at charity events to raise money, and course to get that almighty photo opportunity. My best friend and her husband have family in Ukraine; this is personal for me. I do not care about a moronic photo op when my friends and their family are fighting for their lives, running from a DIC-tator who wants to bring about the Apocalypse.

I read she yelled at a late-night television host for getting too close to her piano. This behavior does not surprise me, having come from a person who has a history displaying her sense of entitlement to those closest to her.

I created my character to help cope with a lifetime of abuse from a narcissist who tricks virtually everyone into seeing her mask, which I suspect has been crumbling. I hope it falls off for good and she slithers away into a life of obscurity, working by herself, abusing nobody. Or maybe she will live out her life in the bog, devouring the living like the character whom she had inspired, Bernadette Moran Cacca.

Have you known a person like this?

Peppi Cacca’s name came from a rabid doorman in Italy who sexually assaulted me. Character Peppi Cacca’s main inspiration is a toxic, former neighbor who had stunk up my apartment with skunky weed and sadly abused his cat. I had gotten the idea from Pepe LePew and used to call him Pepe LePuke as I heard him through the ceiling vomiting every morning while he was upstairs visiting his boyfriend with whom he was having an affair. I am so glad to be out of that apartment complex, and in a much quieter, cleaner place – waking up to birds in the trees, not skunk-weed stench.

Awhile back, I had overheard him on the bus bragging to the driver about his drinking, making the excuse “can you blame me?”

I blame him for his own behavior.

Bern Cacca Gets Yeeted

“Here I sit all broken-hearted, tried to crap but only farted,” a forlorn Bernadette “Bern” Cacca sings on her porcelain throne, practicing kazoo and accordion. She lights a fart, burns her doodoo in the fireplace, then makes a call to a Northwestern Illinois bar on her smell phone.

“Poopy’s.”

“Hi, my name is Bernadette Cacca. I’m a famous singer near Chicago.”

The bartender giggles.

“I have a wonderful offer to make your bar.”

“May…I take your order?”

“I would like to open a Poopy’s here in Manteno.”

“I thought you were from Chicago!”

The bartender continues to giggle as he hangs up on Bern.

To increase her bottom line of attention, money and bootlickers, communal narcissist Bernadette offers to sing and play her accordion cover songs at a charity event to raise money for the victims of the Russian war against Ukraine. She dreams about all the photo opportunities she can gain from her virtue signaling. She does not care about the efforts of living beings trying to stay alive, fighting or fleeing a psychopath trying to take over their beautiful country. She just loves to pretend.

Bern heads home from a long day working her and her husbands’ business Peppi’s Portapotties, excited to burn the porta-poopies in her fireplace, only to be interrupted by a phone call.

“Hi, Bernadette…ummm…Cake-Uh?”

“Cacca.”

“Yeah, I am calling about your gig at the Gaslight Bar tomorrow night.”

“Oh hiiii! I am THRILLED about playing this extraordinary gig at 7:00 tomorrow night.”

“Good. We are calling to tell you about a slight time change. Due to staffing shortages, we need to move your gig back an hour.”

“I am a pillar of the community and a national treasure! Your tone is not appropriate for someone doing business. I would get used to people like me.”

“So are you coming or not? We have other guests who want to play and help—“

“Okay, okay, see you tomorrow. Don’t forget it!”

Bern teams up with local cybercrook Pat Splatt to develop her pretend money Craptocoin. The bum-waste-bin overlord thinks it is cute to sell Craptocoin at the charity event and decides she will solicit tips using her funny money.

“Hello Manteno! Thank you all for coming! Let’s raise some money! Gimme your requests! CraptoCoin only, my handle is @BMCacca! Maybe you already doing it, and that’s awesome!

ALSO, a shout-out to my extraordinary hairdresser @lilacroule from Croule, Young and Lovely who keep me lookin’ good! AND, my makeup by fabulous @marigoldyoung! So much love to their salon. Practices are things done more than one time regularly, and I have been practicing hard for tonight’s fundraiser! That’s why I call them practices!”

“And…without further ado, give it up for the Manteno Wonder herself, Mrs. Bernadette Cacca!”

A slow clap is heard, mixed in with hoots and hollers from Bern’s obsessed fanboys.

After finishing her last accordion cover tune for the first half of her set, “My Fart Goes Boom”, Bern runs to the washroom, humming “Let’s all go to the restroom” as she poops and farts.

Mrs. Cacca emerges, approached by a Chicago television reporter. 

“Hi Bern. I would like to interview you. We got a press release—“

“Not now, after.”

“I have other stories to cover. Let’s do this now.” 

“The show must go on.”

“I am from Ukraine and have family there.”

“Fair enough, let’s do this interview up on stage. We will both look awesome up there!” Bernadette gushes.

The Chicago TV reporter enters stage right, Bernadette stage left. Reporter Elena Emm stops to remember her questions so she can begin her interview. 

An impatient Bernadette sighs loudly, whistles and hums.

“Why are you staring off into space? Are you in a fantasy world?” Bern snarks, snickers, thinking only Elena can hear her.

“I am blind,” the reporter advises the oblivious Bernadette, unaware a camera operator is filming the entire interview.

“Here let me touch your face,” the ableist and ignorant Bern belittles the Chicago TV news reporter, reaching for her face.

Elena knocks Bernadette unconscious with a single blow to her piehole, then proceeds to yeet her into the crowd of bootlickers.

“This show is getting entertaining” Gothic Diana Ross says to her bandmates, The Midnight Supremes, who are waiting in the wings.

“I may be visually impaired, but I’m not stupid” Elena Emm says to the crowd who had poured in to find out where their entertainer Bernadette had gone, only to have that communal narcadoodle chucked right into a pile of them, knocking the fanboys over like a set of bowling pins. Strike!

Happy she got a scoop on the poop-mistress extraordinaire, Elena and the news team head back to Chicago to produce their segment for the next morning’s newscast.

“Next up, give a hand for these lovely ladies, Gothic Diana Ross and the Midnight Supremes!” announces the emcee, who had called the Manteno girl group last minute to replace their annoying neighbor Bern Cacca on the bill.

“You look so good on the outside”

— Cold Cave

Damien’s Butt Got Hurt Over Farts-In-a-Jar Idea

Poor Damien Hurlbutt. The Bourbonnais cinema clerk and communal narcissist who secretly loves to fart had this same idea. He got all mad, because he wanted to team up with Kankakee huckster Pat Splatt and sell his own farts on cBay:

Since this random lady got rich selling her gas blasts, Damien had to continue working at Cinema-13.

Maybe Goop will be calling, or Manteno’s very own portapotty-entramanures, Bern and Peppi Cacca.

Bern Cacca Wishes She Came Up With this Crappy Idea First.

Manteno port-o-dump proprietor extraordinaire, communal narcissist and turd-machine operator Bern Cacca wishes she came up this idea first. After all, she lights her gas blasts to spark the poopy-burning flames. She enjoys watching the port-a-potty waste gleam in her fireplace, as she sits in her rocking chair, playing accordion while listening to GG Allin.

Bern Cacca is #PoopingForKaitlin (and Stephanie).

Peppi’s Poopy Problems

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. 

I’m On Every Channel!

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.