Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy

If It Walks Like a Duck....

December 06, 2022
Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy
If It Walks Like a Duck....
Show Notes Transcript

“If It Walks Like a Duck….” – Episode 70

A roller skating, kazoo-playing delivery duck shows up at Gneeecey’s door with a package containing another secret recording, this time, of one of the canine-humanoid county leader’s most embarrassing moments.

We thank Marysol Rodriguez, Sandi Solá, Sal Solá, Marcellina Ramirez, Rick “El Molestoso” Rivera, Diane L., Brunie Cariño, Toni Aponte, and Aileen Bean and Sammie for being generous supporting members via BuyMeACoffee.com! We appreciate their sponsorship and support more than words can say! 

https://buymeacoffee.com/Perswayssick (Please support us with a one-time gift or monthly sponsorship amount—various levels available—to help keep us coming to you via BuyMeACoffee.com! We’ll shout you out during our podcast episodes and in our show notes here, plus supply you with more fun perks!)  

https://www.amazon.com/Vicki-Sola/e/B07J29RVMQ (Amazon Author Page, check out our Gneeecey/Nicki e-books and paperbacks!)

https://www.nfreads.com/interview-with-author-vicki-sola/ (Interview with Vicki Solá)

https://perswayssickradio.buzzsprout.com (right here, our Buzzsprout website w/episodes & transcripts!)   

And many thanks to disproportionately cool artist Jay Hudson for our podcast logo! https://yojayhudson.com/

This Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy podcast is made possible in part by a generous grant from The Ardelle Institute, providing Executive Coaching for aspiring and established professionals who want to develop their careers, including upwardly-mobile executives, professionals who may be in between jobs, and college graduates transitioning to the workforce. The Ardelle Institute helps with resumes, cover letters, LinkedIn profiles, interview skills, and effective job search strategies.  For more information, please call (201) 394-6939, that's (201) 394-6939, or visit them on the web at ardelle-institute.com, that's A-R-D-E-L-L-E dash institute dot com. Take it from me, Gneeecey!

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Transcript / If It Walks Like a Duck…. – Episode 70, written by Vicki Solá. 

All content © 2022 Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy. 

Music/Intro: Hi there, I’m author and radio host Vicki Solá, welcoming you to Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy. I invite you to escape with me into the bizarre dimension of Perswayssick County, where wackiness rules! The laughs begin when I morph into my alter ego, radio DJ Nicki Rodriguez and clash with the zany, alien canine-humanoid Gneeecey! And now, I turn it over to my other self, Nicki, and the gang….

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Halloween Spooky & Fun Logo] [Door Knock] [Door Bell] [Cell Phone Ring]

DIROCTOR BIZZIG “ZIG” GNEEECEY: Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey, Grate Gizzy of this whole lousy Perswayssick County here…. Smello? Well, who is this awready? Speak up! Speak up! Ain’t got no time for games. Us real important busy people are real important an’ busy! 

DUCK: [Quacking]

SFX: [Door Knock] [Door Bell]

G: Fleaglossitty! Ig! Someone’s at the lousy door! Will one of youse stinkin’ get it? I caaaan’t. Someone’s quackin’ at me on the phone!

SFX: [Door Knock] [Door Bell] [Sneakers Squeaking] 

G: Where in Bogelthorpe’s name is everyone? Why do I gotta do everything my stinkin’ self ’round here in this gigaaantical four-story mansion of mine? Will one of youse get the lousy door? Ig! Yooou get it!

SFX: [Door Open] 

SOOPERFLEA, AKA FLEA, AKA FLEAGLOSSITTY FLOPPINSPLODGE: Nicki can’t get it, Zig. She’s at work—y’know, at her part-time job at your Gneeezle’s Restaurant, after workin' all day at your GAS Broadcast Network—an’ workin’ for pennies. As usual. An’ I can’t get it till I get dressed. Jus’ gotta outta the shower—somethin’ you’re not familiar wit’.

G: I’m sick of your snarkasm, Fleaglossitty. An’ I really don’t need to hear ’bout your troubles. Got stinkin’ enough troubles of my own!

SFX: [Door Knock] [Door Bell]

G: Will ya get that door, Fleaglossitty?

SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] [Bodyfall Human] [Cartoon Slip] [Slip and Fall] [Duck Horn] [Door Knock] [Door Bell]

F: Zig—you didn’t jus’ push me down this flight of stairs, did ya?

G: I dunno, Fleaglossitty. Not sure. I might of. 

F: What?

G: Wasn’t payin’ detention. I’m busy eatin’ my health cigar, y’know, for my bathroom problems…. SFX: [Dog Eating] [Belch] An’ I still got this guy quackin’ at me on the phone. SFX: [Door Knock] [Door Bell] So, will ya go get the door, Fleaglossitty!

SFX: [Door Open] 

D: [Quacking]

F: Zig, mus’ be for you. Guy at the door is quackin’. Might be the same guy who called ya.

G: Does he look like a duck?

F: Yeah.

G: Does he sound like a duck?

D: [Quacking]

F: Yeah, Zig—awready told ya, he’s quackin’.

G: Like a duck?

F: What else would quack?

G: Don’t get intelligent wit’ meee, Fleaglossitty. Does he walk like a duck?

F: Yeah. He jus’ took off his roller skates. Didn’t know they made ’em for webbed feet. Yeah, Zig, he definitely walks like a duck. An’ now he’s playin’ a kazoo—y’know, one of them fancy metal concert kazoos—an’ he’s waddlin’ around like a duck. SFX: [Kazoo] But not too good.

G: Well then, he proboobably is a duck. I heard that some of ’em do play kazoos.  

F: An’ he’s a giant duck. Must be six feet tall. I think he wants to talk to you, Zig.

G: Yooou talk to him, Fleaglossitty. Yooou speak fluent Quack.

F: Okay, Zig…. They taught us lots of languages in the Superhero Academy. Trouble speaks in many tongues. Quack, quack, quack? 

D: [Quacking]

F: Says he’s a delivery duck, Zig, from Perswayssick Occasional Overland Package Transport—y’know, POOPT. Says ya gotta sign for this here package.

G: Yooou sign for it, Fleaglossitty. Tell him I’m authorizatin’ yooou to sign for it. I’m too busy.

F: Okay, Zig. An’ I think he understands English. Jus’ don’t speak it. Mister Duck, Perswayssick County’s Grate Gizzygalumpaggis—

G: —that’s Grate Gizzy, ya Iggleheimer—we’re conservatin’ vowels an’ consonants, Fleaglossitty! Did ya stinkin’ forget?

F: Uh, sorry, Zig. Okay, Mister Duck, Perswayssick County’s Grate Gizzy, Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey authorizes me, his representative—

G: —servant, not repoopresentative!

F: I ain’t your servant, Zig, an’ soon I ain’t gonna be your friend, neitherwise…. Uh-oh, when ducks play their kazoos real fast an’ tap their webbed feet like that, it means they’re gettin’ real impatient an’ unhappy. Sometimes they even attack! SFX: [Kazoo] [Tapping] Okay, okay, sorry, Mister Duck. Lemme sign…. SFX: [Signature] Okay. Thanks, Mister Duck. Quack.

D: [Quacking]

SFX: [Truck Engine] [Sneakers Squeaking] [Door Slam] [Sneakers Squeaking]

F: Here, Zig. Package seems to be ticking.

G: Do ya think it’s a bomb?

F: Oh, never mind. It’s my wristwatch ticking. Not one of them smartwatches—it’s analog.

G: It’s a stupid watch, like—

SFX: [Screeching Brakes] [Explosion]

F: Sounds like an explosion outside somewhere!

G: Not my problem. Now, let’s see what’s inside this dopey package. 

SFX: [Police Sirens] [Fire Sirens] [Ambulance Sirens] [Cuckoo Clock] [Door Open]

NICKI RODRIGUEZ: Hi Guys…I’m—I’m…home….

G: Ig! Where were ya?

N: Working…for you…. And—and— 

F: Nicki, are you awright? Ya look kinda shaken!

N: I—I—

G: Spit it out, Ig, spit it out! Ain’t got all day here! Got a real important package to open!

F: Zig!

N: Name’s Nicki, Diroctor Gneeecey—

G: I know my stinkin’ name, Ig—

N: So, I—I was at the bottom of the mountain here—y’know, Bimbus Crack Drive—and as I made that sharp turn up onto our driveway, this—this—

G: —this stinkin’ whaaat, Ig?

F: Let her tell us, Zig—

N: This, this big brown delivery truck comes whipping down our driveway—almost hit me—and—and just after I made that turn, it turned and blew up, only yards away from me! I—I could’ve been right in the middle of that!

G: They say timin’ is everything, Ig.

F: That must’ve been our delivery duck!

N: So, that must’ve been who I saw flying down the road on roller skates playing a kazoo…. Anyway, I called emergency services, and they came right away…and—and, here I am….

F: Oh, Nicki! 

G: Hope this hapoopened offa my propooperty. Don’t need no more insurance probooblems. Anyways, I got this real important package here—hadda be signed for—an’ I am now gonna open it! SFX: [Rustling Papers] [Fabric Tear] 

G: Stinkin’ uh-oh! It’s another one of them little purpoople plaaastic toy balls! 

F: It’s another one of them electronical audio capsules! Like ya got last week, full of them secret recordings of all your embarrassin’ therapy sessions!

G: I told youse—someone’s tryin’ to bring me down!

SFX: [Cartoon Character Annoyed Crying x 2] [Fail Horn] [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Electronic Button] [Intarface 2] 

VOICE: Why, hello, Diroctor Gneeecey. It’s us again!

F: Uh-oh! Us—sounds like more than one of ’em!

V: You have just received electronic audio capsule number two. Press the little red switch and enjoy! And Earth girl, like last time, we even recorded what you were thinking! Have a blast listening!

SFX: [Electronic Cash Register] [Propeller Planes]

“Haaaalp! Airplanes in my pants!” howled Gneeecey as he tore into the Grate Room. “Haaaalp! Haaaalp! Haaaalp! Haaaalp! Haaaalp!”

I chased after him with a can of plane repellent. “Lemme spray ’em!” Gneeecey’s Perswayssick County was notorious for its pesky flying insects that mutated as a natural defense to resemble high-flying commuter jets and propeller aircraft. Their bites were much itchier than mosquitos’ back on my Planet Earth.

“It’s not them bugs, ya Ig—it’s reeeeal planes!”

“You can’t possibly have real airplanes in your pants—”

“I dooooo!” He ran circles around the coffee table, clutching his keister. “An’ their propellers are slashin’ up my underpaaants—my favorite underpaaants that Stummix Bank gave me for bein’ a good customer! They’re polka-dotted with dimes! Haaaalp!”

“Uh, sit—no, second thought, stand right where you are. I’ll call Doctor Idnas.” I almost thought I could hear planes flying around, but that had to be an auditory illusion….

Gneeecey’s eyeballs spun in opposite directions as he performed a strange belly dance, incorporating elements of hip-hop. “Planes are killin’ me! Hurtin’ my stinkin’ bimbus! Haaaalp!””

“I’m sure they’ll, uh, run out of gas. Lemme call the doctor.”

SFX: [Dialing Phone]

“Hallo,” answered Doctor Idnas herself.

“Hello, Doctor Idnas, Nicki Rodriguez here. We’ve got, well, kind of a problem. Actually, an emergency. Diroctor Gneeecey here is running around the living room table in circles, screaming that there are airplanes in his pants, and they’re, uh, slashing up his underwear and hurting him!”

“Vall,” stated Gneeecey’s neurologist, “I believe dat he may be suffering a relapse of his Redecoritis.”

Redecoritis was the neurological disorder that caused Gneeecey to think that trees, chairs, and other inanimate objects were stalking and chasing him. And mocking him. It was also responsible for his speech impediment.

Gneeecey could be heard in the background, shrieking. “Maybe if I go sit on the terlit, the lousy stinkin’ planes’ll drown!”

“I hear him screaming, I vould not advise dat he go into dee batroom right now, as being around so much porcelain vould be dangerous ven he is so unsteady and upset!”

“Don’t go in the bathroom, Diroctor, Doctor Idnas says it would be dangerous!”

“So it ain’t dangerousical for all them airplanes to be slaaashin’ up my bimbus? An’ rippin’ up my best underpaaants? Thaaanks for nuthin’! Okay, I’ll stinkin’ stay out here an’ suffer then! The planes’ll proboobably kill me! But that’s okay! Hope she’s hapoopy! An’ yooou too, ya lousy Ig!”

“Quiet, Diroctor, we’re freakin’ trying to help you!”

“Vall, Nicki, again, you know dat I and many odders in dee medical profession, are gathering more proof, from studies and dee patients vee see every day, dat exposure to mierk is dee root cause of deese neurological disorders—you know, dee Redecoritis and dee infected speech, known as ooglitis. Diroctor Gneeecey ees diagnosed vit’ both.”

“I do not have a speech impedipoodiment!” screeched Gneeecey, zigzagging around all over the place. “I can hear youse guys over the plane engines!”

“Quiet, Diroctor! Now, Doctor Idnas, I’m also a bit concerned about myself—I almost think I can actually hear these planes….”

“I tink, Nicki, as you are surrounded by mierk, too, dat you should make an appointment to see me too, for evaluation, to rule out any problems.”

“Okay, Doctor, I will. The whole of Perswayssick County is infested with this mucky, toxic substance.”

“Yah, hopefully dat referendum vill pass—dee one to outlaw mierk and clean up dee riverbanks. Now, Nicki, I vant you to give Diroctor Gneeecey an extra five milligrams of Bumpex—you know, anudder half of his daily ten milligram tablet—and den find an ice pack for him to sit on.”

“Yes, Doctor, I’m looking in the freezer, right now.” Phone wedged between my chin and shoulder, I balanced a dozen boxes of Mrs. Dammit’s Sloggenberry Pie in my frostbitten left hand and, with my right hand, held back an avalanche of freezer-burned jackass patties, several plastic containers bursting with frozen ice block soup, and a couple hairy, egg-shaped green things. With faces.

Finally, Gneeecey shuffled into the kitchen, whimpering. “Ya were right, Ig. They ran outta gas.”

That moment, the ice pack I’d been searching for landed on my foot.

“Found one,” I informed Doctor Idnas as I hopped up and down, seeing stars and galaxies.

Gneeecey tugged on my sleeve like a little child. “Tell her I take Sleepoopex ’cause the lousy Bumpex keeps me awake, an’ I swallow it wit’ this purpoople coughin’ syrup, but then I get too sleepy an’ get a headache—”

“Sssssssh! Yes, Doctor Idnas, I’ll make sure he takes the extra med and sits on the ice pack for fifteen minutes. And I’ll make appointments for both of us to see you. Thank you so much.”

Gneeecey kicked me in the shin. 

“Ow! What’s wrong with you—besides the obvious?”

“Don’t stinkin’ shooosh me in my own house!”

“Doctor Idnas has a heavy Eccchsian accent—I wanted to make sure I understood everything she said. Now, I’ll cut an extra Bumpex in half for you, and here, she wants you to sit on this for fifteen minutes.” I wrapped the ice pack in a dish towel and placed it on Gneeecey’s chair. “Sit, please.”

He lowered his embattled runway of a behind, then sprang up. “Too stinkin’ cold!”

“Doctor Idnas says icing it’ll desensitize the, uh, area,” I replied, guiding a razor blade down the center of a tiny, scored Bumpex tablet. “And she also told me something kinda scary.”

He settled back into his seat. “Stinkin’ what did she tell ya?”

“She says recent studies have linked mierk exposure to Redecoritis. And ooglitis.”

He jumped up. “You’re lyin’!”

“No, I’m not. Don’t you remember her mentioning during your last appointment, that in autopsies, they’re finding high mierk levels in the tissues of people with Redecoritis and Redecoritis-infected speech—”

Gneeecey hurled the ice pack into the stainless-steel sink. SFX: [Bang] “What does she stinkin’ know? She ain’t never done no autopoopsies on me!”

[Nicki sighs] “She says more and more patients are presenting with neurological symptoms. Last time we saw her, she said she’s already treated a couple dozen good Intentions Paving employees.”

“They did my lousy driveway.”

I handed him a glass of water, along with his extra dose of Bumpex. “Yeah—those three freaking miles of miercolated pavement that surround this house. And at our last county Quality of Life meeting, Manny Meantwell said many of his workers have been coming down sick—remember?”

Gneeecey kicked his chair over. SFX: [Wooden Bang] “I don’t stinkin’ believe none of this—it’s them 345 people tryin’ to pass that dopey refooferendum to baaan mierk, they’re saboobotagin’ the election. Only I, as Grate Gizzygalumpaggis of this here lousy county have the right to do that!”

“And,” I continued, “Doctor Idnas said that Evoovelyn Jefoofrey’s husbooband, who works for Freak O’Nature Foods proboobably—”

My mouth was still open and moving, but my vocal cords had quit. A burning, prickly sensation spread from my scalp right down to the soles of my feet.

Gneeecey almost choked on his pill.

SFX: [Fail Horn] [Electronic Button] [Intarface 2]

V: Diroctor Gneeecey, we are sure you would not want all of Perswayssick County to hear this rather embarrassing episode we’ve recorded right in your own home. We are prepared to air this and other selected recordings on your GAS Broadcast Network. In case you’re wondering, we have access to your network, too. We hope you enjoyed listening. We will be in touch again sooner than you think.

SFX: [Electronic Button] [Intarface 2] [Cuckoo Clock]

F: Why are ya lookin’ at us like that, Zig?

N: Yeah, Diroctor Gneeecey, what’s with the daggers? Flea—look out—you’re gonna—

SFX: [Cartoon Slip] [Slip and Fall] [Duck Horn] 

F: Ow! Zig! The way you’re lookin’ at me an’ Nicki—ya totally spooked me! Made me fall on my bimbus!

G: Yeah, I’m lookin’ at youse two. How could anyone have stinkin’ recorded me here in my own lousy home? Could be a inside job! 

SFX: [Fail Horn] [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Magic Spell] 

We hope you enjoyed this week’s episode! We thank Marysol Rodriguez, Sal Solá, Sandi Solá, Marcellina Ramirez, Rick “El Molestoso” Rivera, Diane L., Brunie Cariño, Toni Aponte, and Aileen Bean for being generous supporting members through BuyMeACoffee.com.

And thank you for tuning in to “Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy.” We hope you enjoyed traveling to this loopy dimension with us and that you’ll come along again! Our new episodes drop every Tuesday morning! Please make sure to tell a friend! And keep on laughing! 

Frank: It’s a Gneeecey thing! [SFX: Door Slam] ###