MoronicArts Classics: Bern Book

November 27, 2025 ~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

“Story time with Gothic Diana Ross & The Midnight Supremes? At the Manteno Library? I would say that a trip to Manteno is not complete without spending a few hours at the Manteno Optimal Club with Bernadette Cacca! Hmmpf!”

“Why don’t you start your own book club, honey?” Shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture Sonya Moran asks her communal narcadoodle, bog-witch niece Bernadette.

“You’re the best!”

“Butt first, a trip to Bucketheads.”

“Why are you going to a hardware store?”

“It’s my own personal prop department!”

“Hot dawg!”

Bernadette pinches a massive loaf upstairs in the washroom while tapping away at her smell phone to announce yet-another-gig her aunt Sonya got her. Ahhh, the stench of nepotism.

BOOK CLUB NIGHT, TUES with yours truly! Join me at @MantenoOptimalClub TONIGHT, AUGUST 18, 9:30pm-3am. What will I read? It’s a surprise! It’s the hottest new event in Kankakee County!

“I never drank coffee while I was in college. I drank pop,” Gothic Diana Ross complains to the Buckstars staff about her coffee again.

“What’s this crap? A port-a-potty made out of poop? Do you drop dookie in it, on it, or next to it?” Diana scrolls through her Fakebook feed as she waits for her iced caramel latte to get re-made.

“She’s no Bansky…” Gothic Flo quips.

“I know, we should crash her gig. Maybe we can heckle her or something,” Gothic Mary giggles.

“Well, there is this card game…ooops. Nope, we’re not old enough,” Diana laughs as she reads the community events.

“Oh darn.” The dark gothic beauties share a laugh and drive away from their Gothic Victorian home in their black 1988 Chrysler Conquest TSi.

The Poopy Groupies surround Mrs. Cacca and shower her with a gush of superlatives at the Manteno Optimal Club:

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to Illinois!”

“You make me feel like a star, Bern!”

“It’s the Manteno icon herself! You should be beatified!”

Queen Bernadette rolls out her porcelain throne and makes an announcement:

“Today, I’m here on a campaign to promote regularity!”

The portapotty empress sits on her toilet which she just bought from Bucketheads Hardware and begins to sing from a book:

“Being regular is important to me, and I hope it is EQUALLY important to my regulars. I love my Poopy Groupies! Nooowwww–baaaaaack–toooooo-the—booooooooooook!”

The Poopy Groupies hoot, holler and catcall. Yes the cat-calling is sexist but the queen of the porcelain throne does not care what kind of attention she gets, as long as she gets it and she is the center of attention. After all, she feels entitled to it since she does gigs like these for charity.

The cheering crowd of Bernadette bootlickers is cut like a knife from a few voices in the crowd.

“Why are you pooping in public?”

“Oh honey, I am not really pooping. See look, all golf balls!”

image: toilet box on a hardware store shelf. image on box of flushed golf balls. text on box reads: "Flush like a champion."

The crowd roars with laughter.

The Midnight Supremes join in on a tune of their own:

“You can’t hurry death
You just have to wait.
Charon works on his own time,
No matter what prayers you say.”

Upset about getting upstaged, Bernadette throws a fit:

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah, an unruly citizen who is obsessed with pooping!”

Awkward silence fills the hall of the Manteno Optimal Club. Eyes roll. People begin to chortle.

“I am reprising my role from the Human Body Odor EXCLUSIVE show, “Dropping the Deuce.”

A voice emerges from the crowd.

“Hey, I have a gift for ya Bernadette!”

Sybil Kibble hands Bernadette a box and walks away as fast she can. Happy for the distraction, Mrs Cacca opens her gift. “Is this for meeee? Oh you are the best.”

Bernadette shows her malcontent for the gift, and even the mere thought behind it. She rambles like a Turd Machine spitting out letter-blocks from a craft store.

Sybil Kibble escapes Bern’s word-salad diatribe in her trusty Chrysler LeBaron as do the Midnight Supremes in their sleek sportscar.

Bernadette continues to sing and ramble like the moron that she is, as she watches her mug on the community FartTV, ignoring the confused crowd leaving her stupid book club: “Late last night when the moon green, around the corner came a turd machine…shots were fired, a scream was heard…Join me here next week as I livestream again…oh dear.”

Toxic College-y

November 16, 2025November 16, 2025 ~ Jen ~ 11 Comments

[ Sign the petition inspired by this story and read about what inspired me to write it! ]

Scary Barry Reynolds gets fired from his job as a road-test proctor for the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles, and starts his own college called “Dr. Mathew B. Johnson School of Intrepid Arts” in Albion, Indiana, teaching martial arts and telekinesis, a school he named after his favorite academic leader and best friend.

Gothic Diana Ross gives her TV the side-eye

“Become as powerful as the Dragonball Y characters you see on TV! Develop your real life martial-arts skills, and when you get to your senior year, you’ll become a PSI-ball master!”

“Not this ad again…” Gothic Diana Ross says across the Indiana border in Manteno, Illinois at the slate Victorian home where she and her bandmates reside. “Who wants to go to Indiana anyway?”

“Indiana wants us, but we can’t go back there.” Gothic Flo retorts and The Midnight Supremes all giggle.

Classes begin at the School of Intrepid Arts in Albion. Students practice basic self-defense, mixed martial arts and fencing.

“A new life awaits you at the School of Intrepid Arts” a flashing, talking blimp advertises as it flies over Northern Indiana and Illinois, spending a rather long time over Chicago, until someone begins to fire at it.

“Pop! Pop!” is heard as the floating advertisement-machine is gunned down somewhere on the Southside.

A scholar gets harassed in his dorm, racial remarks litter his marker board. One moron, Pat Splatt, writes “KKK” on an empty pizza box and drops it outside his dorm room.

Protests are held by multiple school groups which make the local news.

**Barry and Terry Reynolds respond to the media from the comfort of their own home.**

“I will answer that later. Come back.” President Reynolds tells the news, and does not return their calls.

The scholar tries to learn to make “PSI Balls” on the internet and learns that it is fake. Meanwhile President Reynolds uses school money to pay for pet construction projects so he can hire his wife Terry’s company to do all the work.

Barry and Terry make the classes so hard, it is impossible to pass. Barry and Terry love seeing the disappointed faces of aspiring martial-arts students receive their report cards littered with Fs.

President Barry Reynolds sends out a memo to his wife Terry using negative humor, snarking she should bulldoze “trash and idiots who live on minimum wage.” Barry accidentally copies the entire college on the email.

Oopsie!

Students start creating memes and Fakebook groups. President Barry reports them to Fakebook owner Emperor Zucc who shuts them all down.

Students take to the news to expose the corruption.

The scholar is interviewed, and talks about his brother — also a student — who died when trying to defend a bully using “PSI Balls.”

“If President Reynolds wants to create chaos and censor those who rise up against his regime, then maybe he should move to North Korea. I bet he would feel right at home.”

Barry and Terry visit Bern Cacca bathing in the bog near Manteno, Illinois, for public-relations advice hoping to clean up their image, since Bern is so good at maintaining her squeaky clean image while doing dirty those closest to her. Oh, and she burns poopies.

“Bern Cacca? We have an important message. We need your help.”

Bog Witch Bern keeps on swimming.

“Bern? We have something to tell you.”

Bern continues to ignore the looming Terry and Barry.

“Bern? We want to know how you keep your image so clean while you do others dirty.”

“Can’t you see I am taking a bath?” an angered Bern yells back, hoping to be left alone.

“Oh you are so…RUDE!” Terry snarks at Bern.

“I am busy. Go away.”

“God hates ugly people! I am calling the manager!” Terry says out of desperation and fear.

“I am the manager.” Bern replies as she shoos away Terry and Barry.

“I wish my hearing aids were broken.” Peppi Cacca says to his wife Bern and the Reynolds couple leaves.

The Indiana Attorney General investigates and shuts the school down, and the story makes television headlines.

“Oh good, we no longer have to see those annoying ads.” Gothic Flo says to Gothic Diana and then turns off her TV.

Moronic Racing is a Drag

November 6, 2025November 6, 2025 ~ Jen ~ 6 Comments

“Would you like to hear the good news about our religion?” asks the elderly gentleman, sporting a “JC is the Man” tee shirt.

“No, would you like to hear the good news about the Flying Spaghetti Monster?” quips Diana.

“If you don’t join our religion, you will not go to paradise when you die.”

“I’ve died and come back three times and I am in the Rush University Journal of Medicine. When people talk about tunnels and light, I know they’re lying.”

Diana slams the door and gets ready to rehearse with Gothic Mary and Gothic Flo.

A knock is heard at the door.

“Go jump into Manteno Lake” yells Diana.

The knocking persists until the person holds down the doorbell.

Furious, Miss Ross heads out to chase her unwanted visitor.

Miss Ross opens the door.

“Oh hi Deeanna.”

“Di.”

“Is that a threat? Because I can call police–“

“No, you dimwit, that’s my name. Bernadette, you have been calling me by the wrong name since we were in third grade together.” Diana tells her next-door neighbor, communal narcissist and portapotty proprietor Bernadette Moran Cacca.

“Oh. I just wanted to tell you I have been doing these gigs to support the Manteno Optimal Club. I sing showtunes and play accordion. I am collecting donations if you want to chip in, since I know you love music, and it’s going to great cause because I love the community so much…” Bernadette rambles, not realizing Gothic Diana Ross and The Midnight Supremes are slow clapping to insult Bernadette’s lame attempt at asking for money.

“Oh I am so glad you want to help! How much are you going to give?”

“A blow to the head if you don’t exit.”

Diana closes the door.

Bernadette Cacca walks home and tests the crank on her window-mounted Turd Machine. “Pep, did you forget to oil the turd machine hanging in the living-room window?”

“No, Bern, it’s out of turds.”

“Oh. Where did they go?”

“Little lady, you burned them last night in the fireplace. Don’t you remember?”

“No, I had too much moonshine.”

Gothic Diana Ross looks out the arched windows of her home to see if the coast is clear, hoping to dodge any Caccas, and heads outside to board the bus.

Since her turd machine collections are out of turds, Bern devises another way to annoy Diana.

As Diana is just standing there waiting for a bus, Bern starts spamming her with unsolicited, incorrect information.

“Deeanna. This bus is not coming for an hour.”

Diana ignores Bern, enjoying her New Beat mix through her headset.

“Deeanna, it’s raining out. Where’s your umbrella?”

“Do you need to borrow one?” Diana sarcastically replies.

“See, Dee — I can drive you to where you’re going. I love to drive because I am a good person who helps the community.”

Diana continues to enjoy her music.

As Diana sees the bus approach, she takes off her headset so she can communicate with the driver, waving so they can see her.

“You know, Diana, you don’t have to flag the bus down. It will show up anyway,” Bern advertises her unsolicited advice.

Diana boards the bus, pays the fare and sits down in the back. Bern sits a few seats away, since the one next to Diana is already occupied by another passenger.

Diana exits the bus in front of a building near the garage where she dropped off her black 1988 Chrysler Conquest to get repaired, stopping to pause and gather her thoughts.

“That business is closed. Can’t you read the sign?” Bern nags Diana.

“Don’t you have a pool to crap in?” the 5’11” Diana says, turns away and makes big strides using her long, slender legs toward the repair shop.

The rotund, 5’4″ Bern gives up as she has run out of ideas, for now.

“What can I do ya fer?” asks the mechanic behind the counter.

“I am her to pick up my ’88 Chrysler Conquest.”

“She’s not done yet. Give ‘er a couple more hours.”

Diana falls asleep in the chair while listening to music on her phone, the playlist changed to heavy metal and experimental noise.

She restfully dreams, drifting off to outer space, not a soul around to ask nosey questions. The beautiful goth queen and the boss of herself snores every so slightly, lightly. As Gothic Diana enjoys her peaceful rest away from her batty neighbors, she is starkly awakened.

“Diana? Diana?”

“Yeah…” a sleepy Miss Ross replies.

“Your car is good as new. She’s all fixed up. You owe us $1991.”

Diana reluctantly swipes her card, and drives onto the highway. It is getting dark on this cold Illinois night.

“Glad to have her back,” Gothic Diana thinks out loud.

Bernadette Cacca pulls up beside Diana in the lane to the left.

“But not her…” Diana also thinks out loud.

“Come on Diana, I’ll race you.”

“Get lost!” Diana exclaims, wishing the pest that is Bernadette Cacca would leave her be.

“Chicken! Bok-bok-bok-bok” the narcissistic Bern eggs on the unwavering Diana.

“Beep! Beep!”

The angered motorist behind Diana driving the white 1980s Toyota is in a hurry. Diana moves ahead.

“Yeahhhh!” an excited Bernadette exclaims as she burns rubber.

Diana and Bern race up and down the highway. Diana drifts as she tries to make her way very far from the trailing Bernadette. All she wants to do is go home.

The two arrive at their Manteno block, Diana first, Bern second.

Parked in Bern Cacca’s driveway is the white 1980s Toyota AE86.

A young man exits the Toyota and asks the approaching drivers.

“Did someone order tofu?”

Bernadette grabs her food and runs upstairs to eat because she cannot wait to poop again. She loves to poop.

An exhausted Diana enters her Gothic Victorian home and hits the silky black pillow atop her wrought-iron bed, falling asleep as soon as she lays down.

Undead Greg Invades Evansville

September 7, 2025September 6, 2025 ~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

The dusk is hitting Manteno, Illinois. Before she has a chance to slither into her bog, a certain village trustee gets into it with a disabled veteran. Having no shame, she will do anything to put others down. The swamp witch emerges from seemingly nowhere.

“Why are you taking pictures?” Bernadette Moran Cacca bothers someone minding their own business, enjoying the sunset. Ennui and lack of narcissistic supply has given her the cravings for attention of any kind, good or bad.

“I live here. Nice night.. Nice to meet you. I’m Shanna.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s me, Bernadette, I went to school with you.”

“Oh hey, you’re still in Manteno?”

“Now you see the real me! I don’t like you. Now keep on walking.”

“Walk do not run, Bernie. The Village of Manteno has turned on its citizens,” Gothic Mary of the Midnight Supremes tells the Queen of the Porcelain Throne, narc-a-doodle-doo and washed up former wrestler formerly known as The Manteno Wonder.

“Now if you disagree with the fascist council member that also runs the Optimal Club, you will be shut down and shut up,” Gothic Mary, member of the Midnight Supremes tells Shanna.

“Oh hey, I remember you Mary, what’s up?”

“She used to get mad at my sonic sneezes that I cannot control and then peel out her driveway yelling the N-word. I had told our classmates but nobody would believe me. She was much more prejudiced than I thought but pretended to be an ally who cared about other cultures, and people in general. She actually had said she got a better ‘gold star bisexual’ to taunt me into taking her back, thinking I’d get jealous. First she was bragging on about how perfect things were going between them, that I was ‘too sensitive’ to give her what she wanted, and how she will change and mold everyone in town into something special. This town has always been great and would be even better without her and her Craptocoins.

“Who’s that smelly dude over there in the baggy clothes? Is he a meth-head?”

“No, that’s our resident zombie Greg. He used to own a sewer business until Bernadette had him for supper down in the bog. Then he got re-animated.

“Hey Greg! I hear they sell fried brains down in Evansville, Indiana,” Shanna yells out. Gothic Diana Ross joins Mary and Flo in giggling.

“Okayyyyy…In America there are three mountains in regions where it snows on top of the river and in other regions it is 180 degrees because mountains control temperatures backward towards chemtrails. Unless we make inflatable artificial bounce mountains on the face of the Moon base to control the weather, we will always have these weather problems which can be changed in five minutes. Brains? Brains branes brainnnnnnz…”

Undead Greg Schneissder wanders down to Indiana to find himself one…if only.

Greg heads to a truck stop to make a pit stop so he can empty out his toxic waste and then immediately refuel. While browsing the store, Greg shouts over to a man microwaving a packaged sandwich, “Don’t open that microwave until after it stops beeping!” The trucker just shakes his head and begins to pry the plastic upon plastic from his late night meal. “You’ll get radiation poisoning if you open it too soon. It’s in the manual.”

Greg comes up empty and eats some poopies instead, left behind some man who didn’t flush down the brown.

Ragged and scrawny as ever, Greg continues walking down to Evansville, after hitching a ride on a manure truck and sleeping in the back.

Night falls upon Evansville after the driver has delivered his business and Greg wanders toward a certain restaurant which specializes in fried brain sandwiches.

“Closed for rest and reset? What’s that?” Greg says aloud as he pounds on the window, breaking the glass. The burglar alarm goes off immediately as Greg climbs in, loiters around the restaurant looking for a seat.

“Doooooes this TV get the Aaant & Ding Show?

Undead Greg walks toward the basement to look for the cooler full of chilled brains only to fall down the stairs, crumpling into a bag of bones, a waft of dust smelling oddly like cheese puffs fills the building. Yum.

Manteno Mayoral Meeting Madness!

May 5, 2025May 3, 2025 ~ Jen ~ 2 Comments

The Manteno Optimal Club joins the village in congratulating its new mayor.

Wally Green, drugstore owner, wacky inventor and newly elected president of Bernadette M. Cacca’s fan-club sits and waits his turn to talk about opprtunities to sell more CrapStraps, StrangleTangles and Sleevies in Manteno.

Other Poopy Groupies Peppi Cacca and Dorian James wait in the hall, as the room is overflowing. Kankakee debt-collector Sybil Kibble tries to talk the village into letting Credit Recovery Associates (CRASS) build a second location there. After all, what’s better than one collection agency to hound you about unpaid medical bills, than two?

A very desperate-for-dookie-downloads Bernadette Cacca burps, then bursts into the room, belting her newly formed tune:

“Buy Craptocoins, they are good for you, made from 100 per cent, recycled port-a-poo!”

“Mrs. Cacca, you need to add yourself to the agenda first before taking the podium.”

“No, I don’t need any immodium, I’m regular now!”

The new mayor waves Bern away like the waft of stench she brought in.

“Where have I heard that song before?” Wally Green thinks aloud, then blows his nose into one of his monogrammed hankies.

“Who brought the bullhorn?”

Gothic Flo of The Midnight Supremes just shakes her head and enjoys the popcorn.

Bernadette Cacca Gets Yeeted

March 24, 2025 ~ Jen ~ 23 Comments

“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 narc-a-doodle 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 praise, awards and photo opportunities she can gain from making it look like she cares. She does not raise money for this or any other cause because she feels concerned 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

Women, Wine and Song

March 16, 2025March 12, 2025 ~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

Pop sales are slow. After brewing up some new ideas, Wally Green decides to it’s time promote his new wine line. Wanting to find a pretty spokeslady (or three) to help sell it, he calls up his girlfriend Bernadette Cacca. Butt, her smell phone keeps sending him to voicemail jail, so he calls up another act.

“It’s now Winesday, and I’m ready to get corkin’.” Wally announces.

“Introducing, Gothic Diana Ross & The Midnight Supremes!“

The Manteno siblings open up with their number “You Can’t Hurry Death.”

Diana spies her number-one-stalker: vulnerable narcadoodle, Elvis impersonator and store clerk Robbie Hurlbutt.

“Oh snap, what’s he doing here? Doesn’t the store know I have a restraining order against his bum?”

Robbie goes right up to the promotional stage, and winks at the girls. “I got a hunka hunka burnin’ love for yoooouuu!” Robbie sings and starts dancing like a fool. The sisters put down their guitars and stop playing.

“Get bent, Robbie.”

Diana and the other two talented ladies shoo Robbie away, waving their hands like magic wands.

“But he works here, Diana!” Drugstore owner Wally Green says to the trio, making excuses of course. “Now make it rain, ladies!” Wally loves money almost as much as he does pretty ladies, just not their safety or well-being.

Robbie dances his goofy little self over to the wine cooler and shoves every single bottle into his little green shopping cart.

“We have an ICUP at the register. ICUP at the register.”

Before Robbie has a chance to whip out his ID, he has a clean-up on I’ll-Pee.

“Don’t get locked in the washroom!”

“Time to wash those blue suede shoes, now.”

“Elvis has left the drugstore.” After sharing a laugh at their creepy stalker’s expense, the black beauties start singing and playing their gothic cover tunes again.

“Stop! In the name of Death…before you break your crown.”

Meanwhile Wally assists Robbie cleaning up the aftermath from his sprung leak, because he’s good at losing slip-and-fall lawsuits.

Go, Bernadette!

November 10, 2024November 9, 2024 ~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

“Oh no. Not her again. Hey, let’s sit down and hide out over there.” Before Gothic Diana Ross & The Midnight Supremes have a chance, their next-door neighbor Bernadette rips a big one, the sulphuric stench drowning out the delicious coffee aroma.

“Bernadette, you farted in my chair. That’s my favorite chair! Lick it clean.”

The three songbirds cackle in unison and wave her away, butt, the queen of the plastic throne Bern keeps her bum firmly planted in the fragrant coffeehouse chair, wishing she had a match.

Waiting by the barista bar for their iced caramel lattes, the Gothic Boss Ms. Ross and her sisters approached by a slender, 5’4”, 60-something blonde woman wearing cheater glasses.

“It’s smelly out there, take this.”

“Do I know you?” Diana asks the stranger.

“No, I’m Sybil Kibble. I’m in here every night and I got this picture from some weirdo named Jen. They said they liked your music and felt bad about some smelly morons next door to you. You’re from Manteno, right?”

“Thanks! This is nice for a change.”

“Jen said to keep it for good luck. Maybe it will ward off Barn-o-dette or whatever the heck her name is.”

After arriving home from the Bourbonnais Buckstars in their black 1988 Chrysler Conquest, the ladies go inside to practice their instruments. Gothic Diana Ross takes a break, walks outside to put out the waste bins, and spots her next door neighbor Mrs. Cacca standing nearby.

“Oh no. Eew. I hope she doesn’t bother me for the zillionth time,” Diana says to herself. She pulls out the talisman given to her by Sybil and puts it in her front jacket pocket.

Instead of running up the stairs of Diana’s slate Victorian house to verbally spam her about the Manteno Cantina charity crap only done to look good on the outside, the communal narcadoodle Bernadette instead waves at a bus passing by, hoping its smiling eyes would react to Bernadette’s wide open grin as if to catch a fly.

In turn, the bus loudly “faaaaart-faaarts” like the truck from the American Freight commercials, one of the few things more annoying than Bernadette Moran Cacca.

Robbie Hurlbutt Thinks Gothic Diana is Supreme!

November 5, 2024 ~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

Gothic Diana Ross, lead singer of the Manteno band The Midnight Supremes, permanently yeeted her stalker Robbie Hurlbutt from her concerts. Since the self-proclaimed Number One Elvis impersonator Robbie Hurlbutt cannot creep his crush in person – or summon her using a Luigi Board) – he kisses her poster so hard slobber wets through the image of his wishful thinking, causing it to flop down onto his bedroom carpet.

I’m sure Diana doesn’t mind.

Somebirdy Needs Better Hobbies.

July 13, 2024 ~ Jen ~ Leave a comment

“Why are you wearing THAT? What is that thing in your nose? That looks awful!” a creepy – yet familiar – voice echoes throughout the the eaves of Gothic Diana Ross & The Midnight Supremes’ Manteno home, annoying the poor ladies who are just sitting down on their patent leather chairs minding their own business. Their stalker is back.

Wanting to find the source of their pest, the trio of slender black beauties climb atop the roof of their slate Gothic Victorian mansion, and briefly take in the view of their town. Illinois is full of small towns. This is one of them.

“Why is that stupid vulture asking us dumb questions and pooping all over her claws?” Gothic Diana Ross asks her bandmates about the bird trespassing on their grass.

“It flew into our wall today. Twice.” Gothic Mary deadpans.

A large nest is spotted, hidden inside one of the spires.

The shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture hurls more insults at the talented sisters.

“Your hair is full of rats’ nests! You need a wax! When’s the last time you had a shower?”

“That looks like Bernadette’s mom!” Gothic Flo tells the Ross siblings.

Gothic Diana has had enough. She looks Carla Rachella Amanda Medici Moran dead in the eye, only for the stupid bird to go into defensive mode. Carla pukes up all over the Ross sisters’ lawn. Feeling egged on, Mrs. Moran tries to make herself look bigger by extending and flapping her wings as if they were fists ready for a fight. She looks like a confused chicken.

“Here’s your rat’s nest!” Gothic Flo says as she chucks Carla’s second home clear across Kant Street into next Tuesday. The ladies don’t like squatters.

Carla flies up onto the roof, and starts making demands. She clearly has no concept of boundaries.

“NOW I CAME HERE TO TEACH YOU GUYS A LESSON! SEE WHAT YOU DID? NOW I DON’T HAVE A PLACE TO LIVE. YOU SHOULD BE THANKFUL FOR PEOPLE LIKE ME AND RESPECT YOUR ELDERS!”

“I’ll show you respect!” Gothic Diana Ross knocks the angry bird straight into the ground with a single punch, Carla’s long, pointy beak stuck straight into the grass. The inverted bird’s long, dark tail sticks straight up with her cloaca for all the neighbors to see.