Thinkin' Inside the Box

“Thinkin’ Inside the Box” – Episode 138 

Unable to find their housemates Zig Gneeecey and/or Sooperflea at either county hospital, frantic humans Nicki Rodriguez and Dr. Alexandra C. Idnas rush to police headquarters to file a missing persons, uh, make that, missing canine-humanoids report. 

Meanwhile, home alone back in Gneeecey’s four-story castle of a mansion, therapist Ingabore Scriblig, AKA “Grandma,” is frightened by metal crashes and crazy laughter coming from the garbage dump of a basement. She’s unable to reach Nicki or Dr. Idnas by phone.

In the meantime, Gneeecey and Sooperflea are being transported somewhere. They don’t know where because they’ve found themselves confined in a tiny, pitch-black space. 

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Transcript

Transcript / Thinkin’ Inside the Box – Episode 138, written by Vicki Solá. 

All content © 2024 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] [Boxed-In (Latin Mix)]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: In last week’s episode, “Never Any Peace, Is There?”, canine-humanoid pals Zig Gneeecey and Fleaglossitty “Flea” Floppinsplodge, also known as “Sooperflea,” have, with their snouts, vacuumed up much of the bizarre springtime whipped cream blizzard that fell only on Gneeecey’s property overnight. And they’ve overdosed. Nicki finds them lying in the sweet mess, unresponsive—eyes glazed and furry bellies distended. Two ambulances arrive. The cheeky EMTs refuse to tell Nicki which hospital emergency room they’re transporting the canine-humanoids to. 

Distraught, unable to find any information regarding where Gneeecey and Flea might be, Nicki and Doctor Idnas decide they must go in person to both of the county’s medical facilities—Florence Ferguson Memorial and Holy Krapp. But first they must go downstairs to investigate why strange noises keep erupting from Gneeecey’s garbage dump of a basement. Finding nothing except Gneeecey’s monstrous weather machine amidst the usual mounds of rubbish, they advise therapist Ingabore Scriblig, also known as “Grandma,” to phone them immediately if she hears any more commotion coming from the cellar. And off Nicki and Doctor Idnas go, in search of Gneeecey and Flea….

SFX: [Magic Spell] 

THERAPIST INGABORE SCRIBLIG, AKA “GRANDMA”: Nicki and Alexandra have been gone for a couple of hours now.

SFX: [Footsteps Gravel] [Metal Crash 3] [Comical Scary Clown]

IS: Oh, dear—dat vas more dan just some junk falling. Somevun ees down dere!

SFX: [Phone] [Fail Horn] [Magic Spell] [Hospital Room Ambience]

NICKI RODRIGUEZ: What do you mean, you have no record of either of them being admitted, even to your emergency room? The EMTs said they were bringing the two of them here to Holy Krapp or to Florence Ferguson Memorial!

NURSE: Sorry, but like I told you, we have no record of any Diroctor Zig Gneeecey or Fleaglossitty Floppinsplodge—or “Sooperflea,” as you call him, being brought in.

N: Zig Gneeecey’s a white-and-black canine-humanoid. He was wearing a blue T-shirt. And Sooperflea is a black canine-humanoid—he was wearing a red cape.

NURSE: I’m sorry. We can’t help you.

DOCTOR ALEXANDRA C. IDNAS: Look, vee have been to Florence Ferguson Memorial and gotten no answers, and now vee are here at Holy Krapp, and you are telling us dee same ting—noting! I happen to be Doctor Alexandra C. Idnas, and I have admitting privileges at bot of deese hospitals! I demand answers.

N: And I’m Nicki Rodriguez, Grate Gizzy of this county! I demand answers, too!

NURSE: Sorry, doctor. Sorry, Ms. Rodriguez. Like I said, I have no information to give you. I can’t give you answers I don’t have. Perhaps you should go to the police station and file a missing canine-humanoids report.

D: Vee vill do just dat, as vell as file some complaints to dee boards of bot of deese hospitals! Come, Nicki. To dee police station vee go!

N: Yep. At least Grandma hasn’t called with any more problems….

DI: Yah, tank goodness. I haven’t gotten any calls from her eider.

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Police Station] [Police Siren]

N: Former Grate Gizzy Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey’s a white-and-black-furred canine-humanoid. He was wearing a blue T-shirt. A dirty one. And Fleaglossitty “Flea” Floppinsplodge is a black-furred canine-humanoid—Perswayssick County’s local superhero, also known as “Sooperflea.” He was wearing a red cape. They’re both about elbow-high to us. I’m sure you know both of them.

DI: Yah, and dey say at both hospitals, vhere I happen to have admitting privileges, dat dey have no record of eider of dem being brought een. Vee are extremely concerned. Please help us!

POLICE OFFICER: I’m sorry, ladies—

N: That would be Doctor Alexandra C. Idnas and me, Nicki Rodriguez, Grate Gizzy of your Perswayssick County. We need to file missing persons, uh, missing canine-humanoid reports on both of them.

PO: They’re both over eighteen, so legally, they don’t have to return home. 

N: Y’know, I sign your paychecks. Please—surely you can do something! 

PO: Not really. Most missing person cases are resolved within a couple of days. If we don’t find them in a few weeks—

N: A few weeks? 

PO: Yep. After a few weeks, we can, y’know, hand the case over to our missing persons, uh, missing canine-humanoids squad. But unless we can prove that their disappearances were involuntary, we really can’t do much more beyond filing the paperwork.

N: But—but—you know, we have some real troublemakers here in this county—

PO: We’re aware of that fact, Ms. Rodriguez—

N: Grate Gizzy Rodriguez—

PO: Uh, Grate Gizzy Rodriguez, yes, we are aware of this, but—

DI: And unfortunately, Diroctor Gneeecey has made more dan a few enemies around here, and—

PO: Look, Doc, we’ll keep an eye out for both of ’em, but for now, there’s not much more we can do. Sorry.

N: We will be back.

SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] [Door Open] [Car Engine] [Car Horns] [Police Siren] [Ambulance Siren]

N: Oh look, Doctor Idnas—my phone is showing a dozen missed calls from Grandma!

DI: Mine, too! You know, often in deese hospitals, vee don’t get a signal. Eet’s due to dee nature of dee construction of dee buildings—you know, thick steel and concrete.

N: Evidently, the police station has a similar problem. That’s real comforting.

DI: Oh look, dere ees a voicemail message from Grandma!

SFX: [Electronic Cash Register Button] [Footsteps Gravel] [Metal Crash 3] [Comical Scary Clown]

IS: Oh, dear, I have called dozens of times. Vhy are dey not picking up? 

SFX: [Fail Horn] [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Engine] [Car Horns] [Cartoon Snoring] [Rumbling Stomach]

FLEAGLOSSITTY “FLEA” FLOPPINSPLODGE: Zig—is that you?

DIROCTOR BIZZIG “ZIG” GNEEECEY: Yeah, Fleaglossitty. Is that yooou? 

F: Yeah. Was that your stomach rumblin’?

G: Yeah.

F: It woke me up!

G: It stinkin’ woke me up too. I’m starvin’!

F: Where in Bogelthorpe’s name are we? 

G: I dunno. Looks like we’re trapped in a real small, pitch-black place. Perhaphoops a box of some sort. 

F: A real tiny one. Let’s see if we can punch our way outta here.  Maybe there’s some kinda door. Lemme summon up my superhero powers an’ give it a try.

SFX: [Cartoon Superhero Vocal Fanfare] [Wood Demolition Banging]

G: Nah, Fleaglossitty…. It don’t appear that there’s no door or way out. An’ your powers ain’t workin’—as usual.

F: Don’t start wit’ me, Zig. You’re most likely the cause of all this.

G: Changin’ the subject, how did we stinkin’ get here? I ain’t got no memory of that.

F: Me neitherwise. But I do know that stuff like this only happens when I’m wit’ you!

G: I don’t stinkin’ appreciamizate ya blamin’ meee for stuff all the time.

SFX: [Car Horn]

F: Oh, Zig…. Tell me ya didn’t jus’—

G: Sorry, Fleaglossitty…. Musta been that goonafish salad sandwich I ate last night…tasted kinda off. 

F: Jus’ my luck….

G: The fracas leaves did look kinda wilted. But I ate it anyways since I paid for it, ’cause I didn’t wanna waste no mon-ney. SFX: [Car Horn] Y’know, I was readin’ some hysterical litooterature ’bout our Planet Eccchs. Legend has it that some very special people there are born awready wearin’ clothes. I suspect I may be one of them.

F: That would explain why your shirt smells like that…. An’ now I gotta smell it extra ’cause you’re practically right on toppa me.

G: Well, where do ya want me to go? Ain’t no room in this here lousy stinkin’ box we’re trapped in.

F: It is stinkin’. An’ y’know, I jus’ realized, it’s my birthday. Jus’ my luck—here I am, trapped wit’ you, on my birthday.

G: Well, Hapoopy Hatchday, Fleaglossitty.

F: Yeah. 

G: Well, ya don’t gotta say it like thaaat, so oogdimonious.

F: I’m startin’ to remember somethin’ ’bout a sudden freak springtime whipped cream blizzard. An’ us gobblin’ up the whipped cream till we couldn’t no more. 

SFX: [Giant Burp]

G: Yeah. ’Scuze me, heh, heh….

F: But I can’t remember no more….

G: Me neitherwise.

F: It’s like we’ve been drugged or somethin’. 

G: Yeah, Fleaglossitty.

F: An’ speakin’ of weather, Zig, I wan’cha to come clean wit’ me. I mean, suddenly, it was a swelterin’ spring day—eighty degrees Fahrenheit. Then, the next mornin’, we wake up to that sudden freak springtime whipped cream blizzard. 

G: You blamin’ meee for an early vernicular ekookwinox?

F: Yeah! That special, expensive remote control ya were so upset ’bout accidentally flushin’ down your toilet—I’ll ask ya again. Was that the remote control for that crazy weather machine ya got down in the basement?

G: No, Fleaglossitty! It wasn’t—I swear on your mother!

F: Don’t you dare swear on my mother—

G: Okay! I swear on your father.

F: I’d like to wring your mangy, grimy fur neck—

G: Wait—my allergies are kickin’ up! Ah, hah, haah, fiduciary! SFX: [Clinking Coins]

F: Oh, Zig—ya jus’ sneezed all them slimy dimes right in my face!

G: Well, where else ya think I’m gonna sneeze ’em? We’re right on toppa each other, Ain’t nowhere else I can go in this little prison we’re trapped inside!

F: Y’know, Zig, I jus’ ’bout had it wit’ you! It’s your fault I missed my date wit’ Prindl!

G: How’s that, Fleaglossitty?

F: ’Cause of the weird noises comin’ from your basement.

G: What’s that got to do wit’ you missin’ your date?

F: I hadda go make sure there was no one down there—y’know, for the safety of our household.  An’ I lost track of time searchin’ through your garbage dump down there.

G: It was proboobably jus’ all that junk fallin’ all over the place. So what does that hafta do wit’ missin’ your dopey date wit’ Prindl?

F: I lost track of time, Zig! I stood up the girl of my dreams—now, she ain’t even answerin’ my calls!

G: Well, now ya know what it’s like to have a girlfriend mad at’cha.

F: Yeah. Misery loves company, don’t it?

G: Shaaadup, Fleaglossitty! Don’t you stinkin’ dare bring my Goonafina into this!

F: Speakin’ of phones, ya got yours in that endless pit of a t-shirt pocket of yours?

G: Hmmm…. Why, no, Fleaglossitty. My mobooble phone seems to be missin.’ I can feel that part of a trombone I always carry in case I come across one missin’ that very part…an’ a buncha papers… SFX: [Rustling Papers] an’ that pocket terlit plunger I bought on sale at Squiggleman’s durin’ the holidays…but no, I ain’t seem to got my phone here—an’ it’s my new one from BlunderBuxxCom—I’m still stinkin payin’ for it—for the next two years!

F: My phone’s missin’, too!

SFX: [Engine stops]

F: We’re stoppin’!

SFX: [Bang] [Metal Door Open] 

DRIVER: Okay, ma’am. Where ya want this big black box?

NURSE MAUDLYN: Oh, you’re here already! I just finished my shift at Holy Krapp and have to run back over to Florence Ferguson Memorial—where you just came from—in a few minutes. Please bring this sealed box upstairs to my second-floor bedroom!

SFX: [Splash Water 3] [Splash Water 4]

F: Oh, Zig, ya didn’t! Now I’m gonna have yellow sneaker laces like you!

G: Sorry, Fleaglossitty. This always hapoopens when I’m real, real nervous! 

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

G: It’s meee, Gneeecey! Stinkin’ thanks for listenin’! An’ if you enjoy this podcast, you’ll proboobably enjoy them two books that the Ig, Vicki Solá, wrote. Y’know, that these podcast epoopisodes are based on You Can’t Unscramble the Omelet and also The Getaway That Got Away. You can find ’em both on Amazon! But don’t believe none of what she wrote ’bout meee, except if she wrote anything possiboobly good. 

SFX: [Rock Logo] [Magic Spell]