“Business is really crappy! I do SO MUCH for Manteno and Kankakee County, yet NOBODY cares. Why didn’t I get the Citizen of the Year Award this year? I taught a lion to poop in a litter box at the Kankakee Petting Zoo!” communal narcadoodle Bernadette Moran Cacca brags, embellishes.

“I know, let’s hold a pooping contest!” Aunt Sonya Moran exclaims to the Poopy Groupies. “It will be a great way to promote regular business! I’m just waiting for the log to emerge…” fan club president Sonya announces, as she strains on the crapper of the Manteno Optimal Club washroom at their monthly meeting. She makes sure to get out the most important information.

“You’re awesome!” Bernadette gushes.

“No, YOU!” Aunt Sonya replies.

Sonya Moran, slumlord, shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture and president of Bernadette Cacca’s fan-club The Poopy Groupies hears her phone jingle, ringtone singing the bathroom blues of The Mentors.

“This is Sonya”

“Hey, this is—“

“Oh great to hear from you, I’m just getting done with a call on my other phone. I am so excited about this event coming up at the Manteno Optimal Club! My OWN NIECE Bernadette is—“

“Excuse me, may I interrupt for a second? I only have a minute.”

“Oh you’re not bothering me. What’s going on?”

“I can’t make the event, my brother passed away.”

“That’s awful. I’m sorry to hear! What was his name? What happened? Where was he?”

“Thank you for your condolences. I just found out Friday night.”

“Oh man, I was really hoping to hang out with you Tuesday and get to know you! It’s gonna be a real hootenanny! Did you lose any money from the event tickets? I hope you didn’t.”

Awkward silence passes.

“Hello?”

“I’m good.”

“Can you hear me? It sounds like you’re in a loading zone. I’ll pick up some mementos from the event and give them to you.”

“When?”

“Didn’t you see the schedule? There’s an Optimal Club meeting at the end of the month.”

“No, I just lost my brother. Gotta run. Maybe I’ll see you in a month or two. We’ll see.”

Sonya gets back on the horn with her other call:

“So yeah, Bernadette, you star are sure gonna shine! Get out there and done hand out those free tickets. Hot dawg!”

“Woooooooooot!” Bernadette replies to Sonya.

Sonya ends the Zuum meeting and flushes the washroom toilet.

Entramanure and Queen of the Plastic Throne Bernadette Cacca hits the streets of Kankakee County handing out “free tickets” to her event:

“September 31 – Join us for a protest party in the basement of the Manteno Optimal Club! Stop our commie mayor from bringing in the Gotion plant! Two drink minimum. Over 21 only!”

The big day arrives (or does it?) 

Emcee Konrad Teirant of the Moronic Half Assets (MHA) gets ready to provide all the entertainment with half the budget.

“OK Kids, it’s time to put on your Gotion!”

The crowd goes wild with chants of “Go Gotion Go! Go Gotion Go!” mixed in with “Stop our commie mayor!”

“And now we have a surprise for you! A contest — But it’s a secret. Shhhh. It’s our last event, so sign up now! There are prizes but they are secret, too. We don’t want to ruin the Sur-Prize! Get it, Sir, Prize, yuk, yuk, yuk…”

The quiet crowd just rolls their collective eyes.

“But first on the agenda, Crabby Crafting with Bernadette!”

“Crabby Crap Thing?”

“No!” Bernadette exclaims.

“Crabby patties?”

“Nope, Crabby crafting. Today I will introduce you all to the art of the paper-craft. Construction paper, glue and crayons generously supplied by Peppi’s Portapotties! Look for my face on the sign.”

“Mine too, Bernadette,” a plastered Peppi calls over to his wife and co-crap-tain of the plastic portable john business.

The patrons begin to make signs using Bernadette’s instructions, chatting as they craft.

“That Gothic Diana Ross, she’s a schizophrenic who does drugs! She never had that brain injury that she talks about, she just makes up things for sympathy. Oh and she’s violent! That makeup, those clothes, those piercings, oh my God, who would dress like THAT?” Carla Moran gossips at the table.

“Oh and, her mom was never a nurse practitioner. She was a housewife like every other woman back then.”

“So…what’s the deal with the Gotion plant? Are they gonna build it?

“Our commie mayor wants to spend our tax dollars to bring in a company from China.”

“You’re gonna have to speak Chinese just to apply there. Who in Manteno does that?” xenophobe Bernadette replies with her usual turd-eating grin.

“Rock, paper, scissors anyone? Speaking of rock, let’s give it up for the king!”

Subdued voices in the crowd can be heard:

“When are we going to protest?” 

“This is Emcee KT bringing you the best of Elvis, he is in the HOUUUUSE!”

“Heh-heh. I’m just his groovy reincarnation,” Robbie Hurlbutt self-proclaims.

“Will you sing Jailhouse Rock?”

“Yeah, throw the mayor in jail! Go Gotion Go! Go Gotion Go!” the crowd chants.

Robbie sings, as Dumpster Clown Madeline Topolla-Teirant does her usual act juggling bowling balls and chainsaws from inside her dumpster shoved on-stage by a group of unseen stage-hands.

“Look at my wife, she’s such a clown.” Konrad says, points at Madwoman, attempts to make the crowd laugh. “I just went for the juggler.”

Groans are heard from the impatient crowd.

Konrad reaches down to a stranger and pretends to grab their nose.

“Got your nose! Without that you can’t smell Elvis Parsley.”

The embarrassed spectator melts into a puddle of embarrassment.

The MHA bow as they finish their three-ring circus act.

“Thank you everyone! Now it’s karaoke time. We only have one sign-up, everyone give it up for Wally Green!”

Half the crowd gets ready to exit, they’ve had enough. 

“Make sure to throw money in the tip jar” a looming bog witch Bernadette says as she guards one exit.

“It’s a two-drink minimum, so get back in there, it’s for a good cause!” JB says as he guards the other door.

Wally finishes his own rendition of “Magnet and Steel” to a slow clap from a disappointed crowd, wishing they could up and leave already.

“I’m single and ready to mingle at the bar!” Wally proudly announces.

The crowd erupts in boos.

“That’s right, head over to the bar and our wonderful bartenders will be sure to serve you. Remember our two-drink minimum helps raise money for The Manteno Optimal Club! Your dollars go to an awesome cause! And now the moment you’ve been waiting for, our accordion empress and kazoo cover queen, Mrs. Bernadette Cacca!

Emcee Konrad turns off his mic and the talented Bernadette plays her usual two-hour set, covering show-tunes on piano, accordion and vuvuzela horn. All requests denied and then she bows, showing off her poop emoji dress.

“Everybody give it up for Illinois’ Number One piano empress and entramanure, the queen of the plastic throne herself, Mrs. Bernadette Cacca!”

Bernadette’s fan club — The Poopy Groupies and some other morons give their favorite nitwit a standing ovation, drowning out the people at their tables talking on their cell phones, playing games and ranting about the proposed Gotion plant. 

She bows again, exits the stage and heads downstairs to poop, because, gotta mine those craptocoins the old fashioned way.

“Free balloons for everyone!” announces Poopy Groupy and turd burglar JB as he hands them out to the contestants for the pooping contest.

“We ran out…”

“Oh, just blow these up, but don’t inhale,” Bernadette says as she pulls out a box of condoms and hands it JB, who is manning the helium station.

“Did you pick that guy off the mountain?” Sonya says, making fun of the contestants in her typical narcadoodle fashion.

“Huh?”

“I bet you picked a whole bouquet of mountain climbers, you like them so much.”

“Oh, the mountain you climbed in your jammies?”

“No, in Switzerland. They use Oreos there.”

“Wait, what?”

“For money right?”

“I think you mean Euros.” JB replies to his idiot boss, scumlord Sonya.

“I think you have been smoking some of that governmental illegal substance again…” Sonya projects.

“And now our top-secret contest is about to be revealed by our guest announcer, one true Illinois treasure: Bernadette Cacca! Lift the curtain and reveal the fun surprise!” Konrad announces.

A row of seated contestants are slowly revealed as the curtain rises.

“Whoever poops the most wins!  On your pot, get ready, GO GO GO GO!” Emcee Bernadette Cacca announces.

Bernadette closes all the portapotty doors, “Peppi’s Portapotties” logos decorating complete with the owners’s cheesy smiling mugs.

Undead Greg Schneissder, Wally Green, Pat Splatt, JB “Turd Burglar” Powers, Sonya’s aunt Sonya Moran, and Peppi Cacca all aim their bums to please, meanwhile Bernadette Cacca plays the butt trumpet. “Any requests?”

“Yeah, tell us what the feck is going on?”

The dookie starts to add up.

All toilets flush except for Greg’s – he was constipated. Must be that Slow-Burn Virus he got on his Undeath Day. Bernadette goes into each portable toilet bowl with yardstick in hand, carefully measuring each poo-pile.

“We have a weiner! Pat Splatt has pinched the biggest loaf! It’s a foot-long! Now come up to the stage and collect your prize, Pat!”

“What did I win?”

“A bag full o’ Craptocoins, mined the old-fashioned way!”

“WAT? I don’t want that crap. What’s the real prize?”

“I’ll have it!” Undead Greg says has he grabs the big bag off the stage, poring the Newly Formed Turds (NFTs) into his mouth, gobbling every single one.

“MMM! So much better than brains, brains brains, brains…”

“AAAAAAAARGGGH” the crowd screams bloody-murder and escapes, people nearly trampling each other to avoid the looming Zombie Apocalypse.

People gather in the parking lot, dumbfounded over the dim-bulb nitwit tomfoolery that just happened, thankfully having avoided the zombie inside.

“So…what were we gon’ done-protesting in that here place again?”

“What just happened in there?”

“What?”