“There’s Always a Way…Sometimes,” Episode 8
Nicki and Gneeecey have inadvertently traveled to Planet HyenaZitania, ruled by Gneeecey’s evil, more sophisticated double, Ebegneeezer Gesundheit Eeeceygnay. The two find themselves imprisoned in a cold cell in a medieval stone tower. Chanting zombies mill about in the courtyard below, chomping greedily on orange and grape flavored gelatin brains.
Petrified and shivering, Nicki and Gneeecey realize fully that they’ll end up down there with the walking dead if they don’t come up, by daybreak, with answers to Ebegneeezer’s nonsensical questions.
The planet’s two suns set, and Nicki and Gneeecey, consumed with worry, can’t sleep. Nicki swears that she sees a red electronic light blink overhead but questions how this could be possible in such a primitive structure. She and Gneeecey take turns confessing deep, dark secrets to each other.
After Nicki recalls that adventure, she’s more than alarmed that she can’t remember how she and Gneeecey got out of the whole jam. Nicki and Gneeecey arrive at their therapy appointment with veggie meatball shop owner and licensed therapist Ingabore Scriblig, AKA, Grandma. Nicki needs to discuss the memory problems that plague her. Gneeecey interrupts her immediately and goes on to hog the session, claiming that he’s more important than Nicki. He brags that he’s the one “wit’ all the stinkin’ issues, not her!” He complains to Grandma about nightmares caused by watching monster movies before bedtime. Afterward, he’s too scared to get out of bed when he needs to use the bathroom. The results, he says, are not good. When Grandma advises Gneeecey that he’s watching too many scary movies, he suddenly has to leave.
Vicki, Nicki, Frank, Gneeecey, and Grandma want to thank Marysol Cerdeira Rodriguez, Sandi Solá, Sal Solá, Marcellina Ramirez, and Rick “El Molestoso” Rivera for being generous supporting members via BuyMeACoffee.com! We appreciate their sponsorship 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!)
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Transcript / “There’s Always a Way…Sometimes,” Episode 8, written by Vicki Solá.
All content © 2021 Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy.
Music/Intro: Hi there, I’m author and radio host Vicki Sola, 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….
SFX: [Magic Spell]
Hey there, Nicki Rodriguez here—
—An’ it’s meeee, the much more important Diroctor Gneeecey here—you’re jus’ a lousy huuuman from that weird blue blob up in the sky—y’know, Earth! I’m a doctor an’ director of this here Perwayssick County, filled wit’ us superior-but-straaanded Planet Eccchs snitizens! Why, I’m Grate Gizzygalumpaggis of this here county—the stinkin’ place yooou decided to invade! An’ now I’m stuck puttin’ up wit’cha every day—you’re even livin’ in my dopey luxury maaansion!
N: Now just you wait a minute, Gneeecey—
G: —How many times do I gotta tell ya, that’s stinkin’ Diroctor Gneeecey—I’m a lousy doctor an’ director! An’ stop interrupticatin’ me all the time!
N: Okay, stinkin’ Diroctor, uh, I mean, Diroctor Gneeecey. Now I became stranded here in your dimension when your Planet Eccchs accidentally grazed Earth’s atmosphere, right over my home state of New Jersey, and—
G: —An’ created a superior place, the new dimension of Perswayssick County!
N: I don’t know about superior, but a new dimension was created. And I’m stuck here now, can’t risk a dangerous trip back to Earth and my old life until my dimension burn heals!
G: Yeah, it would be kinda dangerousical for ya to try an’ go back now. An’ I do gotta say, your purplish dimension-burnt skin looks priddy funny. To begin wit’, ya don’t even got no fur!
N: Well, I’m not a canine-humanoid like you! You very much remind me of a Jack Russell terrier I had as a pet—
G: I go by that name Jack Russell when I visit that mudball planet of yours—on a regoogular basis!
N: You—you visit my planet on a regular basis?
G: Yupperooney, ya lousy Ig!
N: I keep telling you, I’m not lousy—and I’m not one of your Planet Eccchs’s clumsy three-legged Iggleheimer troglodytes—my name’s Nicki! Nicki Rodriguez!
G: Okay then, ya lousy Ig, see ya later, gotta go. Us real important people always got lotsa real important junk to take care of. An’ ain’cha gonna thank them special humans—Marysol, Sal, Saaandi, Marcellina, and Rick “El Molestoso”? Tell ’em I say “hi”! Guh-Bye, be a good Ig!
SFX: [Door Slams]
Y’know, I was just about to do that before Gneeecey showed up! Vicki and I—and Gneeecey— thank Marysol Cerdeira Rodriguez, Sal Sola, Sandi Sola, Marcellina Ramirez, and Rick “El Molestoso” Rivera for being such generous supporting members through BuyMeACoffee.com!
We sincerely appreciate your sponsorship of “Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy,” more than we can say! And you can support us with a one-time gift or monthly sponsorship amount—various levels are 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, where more info is available, plus supply you with more fun perks!
And we wanna shout out some places on this sparkling blue planet that are listening to “Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy”: The U.S mainland, Puerto Rico, Kenya, India, Germany, Denmark, Ireland, Thailand, Sweden, and the United Kingdom! And, uh, Gneeecey says, “Hi.”
As I was saying—or trying to say—I’ve been trapped, for some time, in the wacky, unearthly dimension of Perswayssick County. I accidentally arrived there on my way somewhere else, with only the clothes on my back and hardly any money. So, I ended up having to live with and work for Gneeecey. I work at his GAS Broadcast Network—lucky for him, I worked in radio back on Earth. I guess, because it’s all been so traumatic, I’ve been remembering things in bits and pieces, and not in any real order. I’ve just recalled this one particular evening…here’s how it went down….
SFX: [Magic Spell]
I had managed twice before to dimension-jump back to Earth from Perswayssick County. Then, one night, when I finally thought things could be normal again as I struggled to put the shattered pieces of my life back together, Gneeecey showed up in my basement apartment—unexpectedly.
SFX: [Scary Ambience]
And sure enough, the walking, talking dog succeeded again in messing it all up for me. Turns out the bad guys had followed Gneeecey all the way from his Perswayssick County to Earth and my place.
Frantically fleeing the evil alien Jersey-style gangster Markmen that were always out to get Gneeecey, he and I inadvertently dimension-jumped to a really warped world. One that actually made me long for Perswayssick County!
SFX: [Scary Horror Moment]
Gneeecey and I soon found ourselves imprisoned together there on Planet HyenaZitania, ruled by Gneeecey’s evil lookalike Ebegneeezer Gesundheight Eeeceygnay. I, too, had the misfortune of meeting up with my disgustingly despicable double—her name was NickNick. Wickedness oozed from her pores. And what a freaking joke! I’d been forced to dress in one of her cast-off costumes—an idiotic psychedelic lime-green and puke-pink feathered outfit, supposedly so I wouldn’t draw attention to myself as we were driven, against our wills, to an undisclosed destination. It actually made me long for prison attire. An orange jumpsuit would’ve looked more normal.
Petrified, Gneeecey and I never knew, from moment to moment, what would be our fates as we languished, hungry and freezing in a cell in Ebegneeezer’s medieval tower.
Gneeecey’s grip tightened on the rusty prison bars. “Looky, Ig,” he began, staring through our tiny window, “ya better find a way to get us outta this stinkin’ lousy mess ya got us into.”
I rolled my eyes. “I got us into this mess? You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope, I ain’t, Ig. Ya did. An’ you’re gonna find a way to spring us outta here, y’know, before mornin’, when that dopey other me imposter jerk says he’s gonna throw us into that prison yard out there, full of all them killer zombies.”
“Brains! Brains! We want brains!” chanted the walking dead in the courtyard below. “Grape brains! Orange brains! We love brains!”
SFX: [Zombies Chanting “Brains”]
Blinking, I rose from my thin straw bed. My shoeless feet began to cramp as I strode across the icy stone floor to join Gneeecey. True, if we didn’t supply Ebegneeezer with the wacky answers he demanded by daybreak, we would end up down there, part of that mindless, milling mob.
I shivered, partly from the freezing air that blasted through the glassless opening and partly from the realization that we had no satisfactory responses for Ebegneeezer. His questions were nonsensical. Product of a paranoid mind. A mind that worked sort of like Gneeecey’s. Two Gneeeceys…just my luck…to be imprisoned with one by another. I could only pray that there weren’t any more of ’em out there in the universe. Or freakin’ multiverse.
It was not a pretty sight down below. HyenaZitania’s two setting suns cast long shadows in the courtyard. Perfect lighting for a horror movie set. Unfortunately, this was no movie. My stomach flip-flopped as I stood watching, transfixed.
The gothic-style black iron gate creaked open, seemingly by itself. SFX: [Creak] [Bang] Seconds later, a gaunt, gray-haired man lumbered through. He pushed a humongous wheelbarrow heaped with quivering orange and purple brains made of gelatin.
I leaned my elbows on the rocky window sill, quickly removing them as arrows of pain darted straight up into my shoulders.
The chanting below intensified as the inmates staggered toward the old man.
SFX: [Zombies Chanting “Brains”]
Unfazed, he began tossing the colorful organs to them. One bounced into the soiled hands of a stooped-over woman whose white hair zigzagged out of her scalp like lightning bolts. “Ooooh! Braaains,” she moaned, eyes glazed with greed.
Another, a zebra-humanoid, snatched a tangerine blob from the pile and crammed it into his mouth, whole. Fragments glistened, reflecting the blood-red sunset as they sprayed from his busy jaws. Spying us, he grinned and waved. “Hi, guys! Ya might know my twin brother! He drives a cab!”
“Yeah…stinkin’ whatever,” mumbled Gneeecey. Sure enough, a red-maned zebra cabbie had driven us to Ebegneeezer’s mansion when we first arrived in what we thought was Perswayssick County. We had no idea, at the time, that we were in a different dimension. We assumed that we were returning to Gneeecey’s estate on Bimbus Crack Drive, located in Perswayssick City’s swank suburb of Saint Bogelthorpe Parke. Halfheartedly, Gneeecey waved back to the striped, two-legged, upright-walking equine, then plunged both fists into the pockets of the baggy navy trousers he’d been forced to wear. Still garbed in NickNick’s Halloween atrocity, I just sighed.
The din finally died down as the zombies began chomping. SFX: [Zombies Eating] Soon, all you could hear was their slobbering. No fan of eating noises, I had to look away.
Gneeecey shot me a “told you so” look. “Well, Ig, wha’cha gotta say now?”
Our eyes met. “There’s always a way,” I muttered. “Sometimes.”
Night soon fell. We knew that we should at least try to get some rest.
“Ig,” Gneeecey bleated from across the blackness of our cell, “I caaan’t stinkin’ sleeeeep.”
“Me either.” Ready to crawl out of my skin, I pulled what felt like a porcupine blanket up around my shaking shoulders.
“We gotta talk, Ig.”
I bolted upright, knocking some nearby metallic object to the stone floor.
Swore I saw a tiny red light blink above us. I shook my head. Had to be impossible in such a medieval dungeon. Must’ve been a hallucination.
“I said, whassamatter, Ig?”
“Diroctor, did you see a red light blink just now? Up over our heads?”
“Nah, Ig. An’ I’m the one who usually sees weird junk. Y’know, ’cause of my lousy Redecoritis. Stinkin’ neurologikookal impairment. At least I ain’t got no lousy speech impedipoodiment. Before though, I did think that ol’ busticated wood chair in here was starin’ at me all kinda funny, but now it’s dark, so it ain’t botherin’ me all that much—it proboobably can’t see me good in the dark.”
My heart sank, remembering that he didn’t have his meds with him.
“Almost stinkin’ slapped the lousy chair.”
“Diroctor, you’re sure you don’t have your meds somewhere in that big T-shirt pocket of yours?”
“Nope, checked sevooveral times. Ain’t got ’em. Like we say on my planet, too baaad, three eggs. Y’know, mayboobe yooou need ’em if you’re seein’ stuff that proboobably ain’t there.”
I mumbled something that even I didn’t understand.
“Ig, we got a real probooblem here.”
“Yes, Diroctor.” I shifted onto my side and leaned on my elbow, monitoring the ceiling, relieved each moment that I didn’t detect another scarlet flicker above. “Y’know, this freakin’ prickly straw bed is even worse than that mutant spring-popping mini-mattress I slept on in your mansion.”
“Stinkin’ whatever. But that was then an’ and this is now.”
“True that. But my back still hasn’t recovered.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. Heya, Ig…”
“The name would be Nicki.”
“Yeah. Okay, Ig. I wanna know somethin’. Did ya really mean it, back in your place, y’know, before we ended up here, when ya said ya were worried ’bout me? Y’know, before ya saw me again when I, uh, surprised ya in your apartment?”
I could just about make out Gneeecey’s fidgeting form. “You mean, when I mentioned that I was worried about what happened to you after we left that weird ice crystal dimension we were trapped in, where there was no up or down?”
“Wasn’t no gravoovity either.”
“Yep....and I don’t know whether to tell you this or not….”
“Tell me, Ig, tell me!”
I cleared my throat. “Diroctor, I’ve been…well…struggling with this…I’m having terrible problems remembering certain things. There are, like… these empty spaces in my memory, half-remembered things…it’s been driving me crazy.”
“Perhaphoops these terribooble probooblems of yours are jus’ due to dimension burn?”
“That would be logical. When you reappeared in my dimension, all these memories came flooding back. I remembered being in the ice crystal haze and how that monster of an invisible force separated us at about five-zillion miles an hour. And when I saw you disappear in the opposite direction as the force catapulted me back into my dimension, I was really worried about what happened to you. But then I totally forgot until you appeared the other night—before we freakin’ ended up here!”
“But ya were worried?”
“Thanks, Ig.” I imagined him to be grinning.
“And please,” I began, making no attempt to hide my exasperation, “feel free to call me by my actual name, the one assigned to me at birth. Nicki.”
I sighed. Once an Ig, always an Ig...I guess.
“This is kinda like that time, ain’t it? I mean, there is gravoovity here, but it’s stinkin’ freezin’ cold, an’ we don’t really know which way is which, or what’s gonna hapoopen to us.”
As if I couldn’t feel any colder, an extra chill sliced through my bones.
“Ig, I’m nervoovous. Usually, I got a lousy answer for every stinkin’ question. Y’know?”
“Yes,” I replied through chattering teeth. “I know.”
“Ig…in case we don’t, y’know, never see each other again after them two suns come up ’cause we caaan’t stinkin’ give ’em the right answers they’re lookin for, I wanna tell ya ’bout somethin’.”
“Confoofidentially speakin’, of course.”
“Of course.” I winced as the anguished, prolonged groan of a lone zombie echoed in the courtyard below. SFX: [Zombie moans] Maybe they had nightmares, too. Soon, others joined in.
“Never told no one ’bout this, not even Fleaglossity,” continued Gneeecey. Fleaglossity, also known as Flea and Sooperflea, was Gneeecey’s black-furred, red-caped childhood BFF. “Anyone finds this out, it could ruin my prekookarious pollutical standin’ back home. An’ my whole life.” He paused. “Now, for some stinkin’ reason, I trust ya. An’ I need to get this offa my chest.”
“Okay.” I felt oddly touched.
“Ya rememboober I mighta mentioned to ya that I worked my way through medical school back on Planet Eccchs?”
Out of habit, I nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, I was a junior clerk. In our local Office of Threes. Y’know how valuable a three is, where I come from. An’ to think, they entrusticated meee wit’ ’em, even though I was so young.”
“Yes, Diroctor, you did mention that once or twice.”
“Well, I never told you or no one else what hapoopened….”
Shivering uncontrollably, I drew my itchy blanket up around my neck.
“There were all kinds of threes,” he continued. “Blue threes, green threes, plaaastic threes, wooden threes, metal threes, an’ paper an’ cardboard threes. Some were even three glonkometers long, that’s ’bout a quarter of a foot, in youse Earth people’s more, uh, primitivemeasurements.”
“What exactly was your job there?” I inquired, ignoring that last snarky remark.
“I was supposed to sepooparate the threes by size, color, an’ material, an’ y’know, enter ’em into the inventory computer. Then lock ’em all up in this gigaaantical vault.” He paused.
“Well, Ig, this here’s the confoofidential part. Sometimes a paper or cardboard eight was turned in…an’ they were igstemely rare. Three times as valuable.” He took a deep, snorting breath. “An’, instead of loggin’ ’em in…I would…well...I would…”
“You would what?”
His shrill voice morphed into a whisper. “I would stinkin’ take these real big scissors an’ cut the lousy eights in half…when I thought no one was lookin’…an’ I’d pocket a three.”
You get caught?”
After a prolonged silence, he continued. “My supoopervisor, Mister Forkworthy, he knowed me a long time ’cause his wife Missus Forkworthy was my first grade teacher, she had yellow hair an’ I did good wit’ her ’cause she always seemed to call on me whenever the answer was three.”
“That certainly was lucky.”
“Yeah, Ig, it most certaincerely was. Anyways, to make a short story long, one day
Mister Forkworthy says to me, ‘Son, I got eyes in the back of my head an’ they been watchin’ ya for weeks. I should really fire ya an’ inform the authorities, but I jus’ can’t bring myself to. I knowed ya for such a long time, since ya was knee-high to a glompershprout, an’ I always seen so many good qualities in ya. Real potential.’”
“So,” I interjected, convinced that despite the darkness, I could see the grayish vapor of my own breath, “he gave you another chance?”
“Yupperooney, Ig. He held out this gigaaantical wood box an’ tol’ me to empty all my pockets. An’ I did. Filled up that whole box, plus another. Blue threes, green threes, paper an’ cardboard threes, an’ even a purpoople three. Also, some plaaastic threes an’ even a three from this wooden eight I managed to split, wit’ great difooficulty, of course, y’know, hidin’ under my desk.”
“You kept your job?”
“Yeah, Ig. Through the rest of medical school. Mister Forkworthy warned me that fatefootful day, ‘Young man, I’ll see ya here again tomorrow afternoon, but don’t lemme never catch ya embezoozlin’ another three.’ Can’t say I wasn’t tempted at times, ’specially when a beaudiful shiny gold or red eight would show up. But I kept my promise. Never cut another eight or pocketed another three.”
I exhaled deeply. “Wow, lucky you had such an understanding and compassionate boss—one who really believed in you.”
“Yeah, Ig. Hey, y’don’t suppose that now this here is all punishment for what I done back then?”
“You mean karma?”
“Nah, Ig. We ain’t discussin’ automobiles. An’ I ain’t your mom. I stinkin’ mean, do ya think I’m in this here bad situation ’causa what I done back then?”
“No, Diroctor. Remember, I’m here in this situation with you as well.”
“Yeah, ya are. Ya think we’re both here ’causa somethin’ yooou done?”
“No, I really don’t….”
A loud flapping by the window interrupted me. SFX: [Flapping sound] I leaped up. Nothing to see except for the silhouette of bars.
“Nothing there.” My heart fluttered as I flopped back onto my pile of straw and hid beneath my blanket.
“What’re we gonna dooo in the mornin’, Ig, when them two suns stinkin’ come up, an’ that other lousy meee imposter asks us all them crazy questions that ain’t really questions ’cause they ain’t got no answers?”
“Diroctor, we’re just gonna have to try and answer Ebegneeezer’s crazy questions the best we can. That’s all any of us can do at the end of a day. The best we can.”
“Yeah, Ig. An’ it is the end of a day.”
SFX: [Magic Spell]
Somehow, we managed to get out of that jam…but, I still can’t remember how. My memory these days is like Swiss cheese, full of holes, from all of my dimension jumping. I’m sure that this and other memories will come flooding back into that space between my ears. When they do, I’ll be sure to tell you all about them. I promise.
Meanwhile, it’s time for another session with our therapist, the kindly human Planet Eccchs native, Ingabore Scriblig, owner of Perswayssick County’s Veggie Meatball Express. She prefers to be called Grandma.
SFX: [Magic Spell]
IS: Good afternoon, Nicki and Diroctor Gneeecey. How doodle you do?
N: Hello, Grandma, thank you for seeing us. I really need to talk about this really bad memory problem I’ve been having and—
G: Heya, Graaaandma, whazzup? I ain’t doodlin’ too good here! An’ why do ya always gotta greet the Ig here first? I’m the one wit’ all the stinkin’ issues, not her!
IS: Yah, and you sound like dat ees someting to be prrroud of, Diroctor!
G: Why, thank you, Graaandma! Gotta say, I really try! Why are youse two lookin’ at each other like that?
IS: Diroctor Gneeecey, I vould like to trrry and discuss Nicki’s prrroblem!
G: Oh, no, Grrrandma! You yourself agreed that I’m the one wit’ all the stinkin’ issues, not her! You can disgust her lousy probooblems some other time! They ain’t as baaad as mine!
Waving his grimy arms in the air for emphasis, Gneeecey leaped up off Grandma’s couch, slipped coming down, then tumbled onto the hardwood floor below. Onto his backside.
SFX: [Boing] [Duck Horn]
IS: Boompitty-boomp! Ah, hah, ha, ha, ha!
G: Ow! My stinkin’ bimbus! An’ it ain’t funny!
IS: I’m sorry, Diroctor Gneeecey, but it vas kind of funny. I vill help you up.
G: Nah, Graaandma, I’m stayin’ right here. Never heard of no one ever fallin’ off of a floor!
IS: Alrightsky den, suit yourself.
G: Now, Graaandma, I gotta go soon. Us real important people got lotsa real important junk to do. But I gotta tell ya that I been havin’ all these baaad dreams, especially after I watch all them scary monster movies at night right before I go to bed! I dream of all these, y’know, gigaaantical reptiles, they’re even way stinkin’ bigger than the buildings they crush an’ destroy, an’ they’re all named Mark an’ I’m so petootrifed that I’m even too afraid to get up to, y’know, use the lousy bat’room when I gotta, an’ well, that don’t usually turn out too good.
IS: Vell, Diroctor Gneeecey, I tink you are vatching too many of deese movies, and at dee wrong time. Deese so-called monsters are really just lizards drrressed up! As for dee name Mark, dat must reprrresent somevun in your life dat vorries you!
G: Yeah, Graaandma, he does stinkin’ worry me. Lots! Gotta go!
IS: Hawe you learned anyting today?
G: Yeah. Don’t hatch your chickens before they learn to count. Guh-bye!
SFX: [Door Slam]
SFX: [Fail Horn]
Well, now that Gneeecey’s left, maybe I can have some time with Grandma. And remember, you can support us with a one-time gift or monthly sponsorship amount—various levels are 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, plus supply you with more fun perks! And now, I’m gonna turn it back over to my alter ego, Vicki.
SFX: [Magic Spell]
Music/Outro: Thanks, Nicki! Vicki here again. Thanks so much 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 subscribe and tell a friend! And keep on laughing!
Frank: It’s a Gneeecey thing! [SFX: Door Slam] ###