Transcript / “Catchin’ Up Wit’ My Tail,” Episode 9, 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]
[Music Bed]
Hey there, Nicki Rodriguez here, with a very special show for you today! My, uh, boss, GAS Broadcast Network’s micro-managing owner, also a doctor and Perswayssick County director, Diroctor Gneeecey, interviews my alter ego, Vicki Solá, author of books You Can’t Unscramble the Omelet and The Getaway That Got Away on his public affairs show, “Catchin’ Up Wit’ My Tail.” Show producer Autumn Raines provides added commentary during this radio adaptation of Gneeecey’s TV program.
Special thanks to Marysol Cerdeira Rodriguez, Sal Solá, Sandi Solá, Marcellina Ramirez, and Rick “El Molestoso” Rivera for being such generous supporting members through BuyMeACoffee.com! And now, here’s Gneeecey, interviewing Vicki on his public affairs show. Enjoy!
SFX: [Magic Spell]
[Music: Vivaldi Spring]
GNEEECEY: Bad afternooon, everyone! Welcome to “Catchin’ Up Wit’ My Tail,” wit’ meee, your host an’ moderator, Diroctor Gneeecey! Today’s guest is that lousy Ig, Vicki Solá….
VICKI SOLÁ: Excuse me, Doctor Gneeecey—
G: That’s stinkin’ “Diroctor!” Now, everythin’ she says here today most certaintaneouly can an’ will be used against her in a law of court.
VS: Uh, stinkin’ Diroctor—
G: Heya, Ig, Bad afternoon! Hope ya liked that worn welcome—
VS: Uh, please don’t call me Ig. Name’s Vicki.
G: Okay, Ig—
VS: Ahem…
G: Whatsamatter, got throats in your frog?
VS: [Producer Autumn Raines here. Our guest, author Vicki Sola, shifts uneasily in her faux horsehair-upholstered chair.] Diroctor, aren’t you supposed to be asking me about my—
G: Ya remindicate me of someone—that irritratin’ Nicki Rodriguez. In fact, I ain’t never seen the two of youse together! Could that be ’cause you’re really the same person?
VS: [chuckles] I guess you could say that Nicki Rodriguez is an alternate version of myself. I’ve worked in radio for years as a DJ and producer. And I’ve worked hard throughout my life for more than a few difficult bosses. In a word—
G: That’s more than a word.
VS: As I was saying, my stories are actually sort of my convoluted autobiography—and then some—set to SciFi and fantasy.
G: How can anyone’s dopey life be set to somethin’? Heh hah, heh haah, heh haaah!
VS: Now that you’ve asked, one of my goals is to cause young adults, ages ten to two hundred and ten, to spit their drinks through their noses as they watch Alice’s Wonderland collide with The Wizard’s Oz. And in The Getaway That Got Away, no one’s wearing helmets in your land of 450-story skyscrapers and speeding, fully-articulated thirty-two-door stretch limos—
G: No need to get personal—keep my stinkin’ vehicle outta this—
VS: But it’s part of my story—
G: Your story’s weird. An’ so are yooou.
VS: Puhleeeze. Just stick to your questions.
G: Ya got glue?
VS: Listen, I don’t get paid to sit here and take abuse—
G: In your books, evoovidently I pay that Nicki Rodriguez to take abuse!
VS: Well, yeah. You can say that again.
G: That again.
N: [sighs] In The Getaway That Got Away, you claim to “pay” Nicki when she ends up working for you at WGAS Radio and TV. Anyone who’s ever slaved away for pennies, or has observed that life can be ridiculous, will relate to her situation.
G: [Our host and moderator is scratching his scruffy derriere rather vigorously at this point.] It is ridiculous—your dopey book, I mean. All of your books. So, tell us stinkin’ more.
VS: [The author appears to be trying not to look at our host and moderator.] Well, my laugh-loaded fantasy launches the reader into a strange universe where things are not what they seem. Dismayed by a basement-apartment existence barely enabled by two low-paying radio jobs, Nicki Rodriguez experiences a dramatic change in outlook when fate transports her to an even lousier place—a distorted world inhabited mostly by canine-humanoids, y’know, walking, talking dogs who are trapped in a dimension somewhere between New Jersey and outer space.
G: [Our host and moderator’s eyes appear to be narrowing.] You callin’ my Perswayssick County lousy?
VS: I suppose so. Living a dog’s life—forced to work for and reside with Perswayssick County’s greedy, tail-wagging leader, self-described “business maggot” Diroctor B.Z. Z. Gneeecey—
G: That would be meee—I ain’t got no problem wit’ that…
VS: Anyway—while she's living with and working for you—Nicki searches desperately for her pilfered portfolio containing ten thousand hard-earned dollars and prays fervently that her life-threatening dimension burn heals so she can attempt a perilous return to “regular New Jersey” and her old life.
G: I didn’t steal nuthin'—
VS: [sighs] Would you please stop interrupting? Now, all the while, Gneeecey—yes, that would be you—is happily selling out Perswayssick County’s environment and welfare to a murderous mob of waxy-faced Jersey gangster-style aliens. SFX: [Scary Ambience]
G: Don’t talk baaad ’bout my pals. Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark, an’ Mark are my friends—an’ so are Mark, Mark an’—
VS: Please—let me finish. Gneeecey—that’s you—has convinced these Markmen that Nicki has something they need. Complicating matters further is the arrival of Blirg, a month-long season where time itself runs backward.
G: [At this juncture in time, our host and moderator removes one of his red high-top sneakers, sniffs it, frowns, then tosses it over his left shoulder.] Yeah—I love Blirg! Everythin’s backward—ya stinkin’ get to eat your pie before your meat, taters, an’ brokookoli. An’ peas. An’ carrots. An’ spinach. An’ lousy cauliflower…which gives me so much gas that I…
VS: We, uh, get the idea.
G: [Our host and moderator appears to be blushing through his fur.] Any, uh, romance, in this dopey novel of yours?
VS: Nicki has what she calls an “almost-boyfriend,” salsa bandleader Carlos Santiago. And then, in “Part Two," when she arrives in Perswayssick County a second time, her WGAS coworker Cleve Wheeler becomes a romantic interest—
G: Lousy Iggleheimer...I’ll proboobably end up firin’ him...
VS: [The author appears to be taking a deep breath and silently counting to ten.] Whenever Nicki’s with Cleve, she seems to forget about Carlos. And, of course, there’s Gneeecey’s—uh, your former fiancée, Goonafina Blopperdang—
G: You stinkin’ leave my Goonafina outta this—
VS: Okay—we’ll just let folks read about her.
G: [Smoke appears to be billowing out of Gneeecey’s black triangular ears.] Let’s jus’ stinkin’ change the subjec’! Could ya see any of yer lousy books as one of them there motion pictures?
VS: My books are not lousy, and yes, it’s been suggested that my stories’ surreal elements and settings lend themselves to visualization. I envision a combination of human actors interacting with realistically animated characters.
G: Who do ya got in mind to play the—ugh—huuuman charackookters?
VS: I picture a Latina Jodie Foster-type actress portraying Nicki, who’s an independent, capable, brave young woman with an intense, workaholic nature—like the characters Foster plays in The Silence of the Lambs and Contact. And I wrote Cleve Wheeler’s part with Will Smith in mind.
G: Whuddabout meeee?
VS: What about you?
G: Who’d play meeee?
VS: Well, maybe Danny DeVito...or Daffy Duck...
G: In their stinkin’ dreams. Ya writin’ any more junk?
VS: Yeah. And it’s not junk. I actually am in the process of writing more related stories—
G: Don’t look so stinkin’ pleased wit’ yourself.
VS: [The author is grinning.] In the sequel, You Can’t Unscramble the Omelet, Nicki’s character grows. Rather than just reacting as crazy things happen to her and all around her, she becomes more of a force—she discovers quite accidentally that she possesses quantum powers!
G: [Gneeecey’s somewhat grimy snout crinkles.] I don’t like the sound of that...
VS: [The author is still grinning] Didn't think you would.
G: [Gneeecey chews and swallows one of his striped “Health Cigars” prescribed to counteract chronic constipation.] Tell us, the people who read your junk, what else do they stinkin’ like?
VS: Douglas Adams’ classic Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and some of my favorite comic strips Get Fuzzy, Monty, Robotman, Dilbert, Garfield, Bloom County, and—
G: Who asked ya?
VS: [The author is shifting uneasily in her seat.] Why, you just did—and tell me, why do you eat those cigars? And why do you call ’em “health cigars”?
G: SFX: [Belch] ’Scuze me, heh, heh. Trapped gas. Now, who’s interviewin’ who?
VS: Ugh. I just wondered—
G: Mind your business, Ig. Now, what caused ya to write all this crazy stuff?
VS: I first began writing this years ago, when—
G: AAAH, HAAAH, HAAAAH, HAAAATCHOOO!
VS: [The author ducks quickly as a chill mist rains down upon the set.] Bless you, Diroctor.
G: Why?
VS: Well, that’s what we usually say when someone—
G: Not on my dopey planet. An’ if ya noticed, I pride myself on sneeezin’ phonetically.
VS: Uh, yes. I noticed. Anyway, to answer your question, I’m an animal lover. My beloved pets inspired my stories—my beagle-terrier mixes, the almost-as-smart-as-a-human Sooperflea, the dopey-but-beautiful Flubbubb, and my feisty, naughty Chihuahua-terrier, Dr. B. Gneeecey, and my high-jumping, audacious little mouse with an attitude, Altitude.
G: [Our host and moderator is gritting his teeth.] Ya must mean four other people—
VS: Years ago, I began writing short pieces about them, complete with illustrations, and now here we are...
G: Where? An’ how can anyone write pieces? I’m maaad when there’s pieces in my drinks!
VS: [The author’s eyeballs have rolled up to the ceiling.]
G: Y’know, Ig, I’ve jus’ ’bout stinkin’ heard enough. I’m gonna do everythin’ I can to keep your nex' crummy books from ever comin' out! I'm gonna keep people from readin' ’em!
VS: [The author has bolted upright in her chair.] You can’t—
G: I can, an’ I will! I’m The Grate One—I’ll do any stinkin’ thing I wanna do. Obliviously, ya don’t understaaand that! Why, I can even sue ya in a law of court—jus’ wait till ya get one of them feast an’ resist letters on that faaancy-schmaaancy letterhead of my lousy attorney, John Smiff, Equestrian!
VS: Oh, I am so scared— NOT! Dream on, Diroctor….
[At this point, an elderly, well-dressed human, our Diroctor Gneeecey’s therapist Ingabore Scriblig, who prefers to be addressed as “Grandma,” has arrived on the set. GAS Network intern, donkey-humanoid Stuart Pitt is ushering her to a chair onstage. Meanwhile, our host and moderator has tumbled out of his chair and taken a rather nasty spill onto the oh-so-hard floor.]
SFX: [Boing] [Duck Horn]
G: Ow! My bimbus! Why, Graaandma—what’re yooou doin’ here?
IS: Your producer inwited me on as a guest, don’t you rrremember?
G: Some-stinkin’-one, evoovidently, someone real stooopid, double-booked guests today! [Oh dear, our host and moderator is looking around through narrowed, fur-covered eyelids, hoping to assign blame, I’m sure…I do believe it was possibly yours truly that was responsible for that scheduling error. I, uh, must go now…I think I’ve left something or other baking in an oven somewhere, possibly even overseas…I had better go and update my resumé…toodles….]
IS: Vee can reschedule my interview for anudder time, Diroctor.
G: Nah. Siddown, Graaandma. I’d actually be hapoopy to cut the Ig’s stooopid interview short here.
IS: Vhy, I don’t tink her interview vas stupid! I tought eet vas wery interesting!
G: Not that interesticatin'. Okay, Graaandma, let’s chase to the cut—
IS: Alrightsky den…speaking of chasing, I vas vondering, hawe you caught your tail yet? Ah, ha, hah, hah, ha!
VS: [laughing]
G: That’s not funny! An’ I hear yoooou laughin’ too, ya lousy Ig!
IS: Vell, it vas kind of funny!
G: Graaandma, I’m gettin’ very maaad now, an’ embarrassed. I wanted to disgust summa my personal problems right here on air wit’cha. Y’know, reality TV! It’s real popoopular these days! Thought this way, I wouldn’t hafta, y’know, pay ya for a lousy therapy session.
IS: Diroctor Gneeecey, you really don’t vant to air your dirty laundry publicly, right here on telewision, do you?
G: It’s okay, I’m wearin’ it!
IS: I’m sorry, Diroctor Gneeecey, dee code of ethics associated vit my profession vill not allow me to conduct such a session publicly. You are free to see me in my office.
G: But yooou ain’t free in your office! Well, thanks for nuthin’, Graaandma!
IS: I’m wery sorry, Diroctor. I see you are valking avay! Maybe den you should look for anudder therapist—
G: Mayboobee I stinkin’ will—I’ll look for a therapoopist who’ll grab the lousy bull by the tail an’ look it squarely in the face! An’ I’ll stinkin’ save ya the trouble of chargin’ me for askin’ me what I stinkin’ learned today. I learned we don’t know what we got till we abuse it!
SFX: [Fail Horn] [Door Slam] [Music: Vivaldi Spring]
SFX: [Magic Spell]
Nicki Rodriguez here again! Wow! Well, Vicki and I thank Marysol Cerdeira Rodriguez, Sal Solá, Sandi Solá, 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 we’ll supply you with more fun perks!
And speaking of shout-outs, greetings to our audiences checking us out on the U.S mainland and in Puerto Rico, Kenya, India, Germany, Denmark, Ireland, Thailand, Sweden, and the United Kingdom! Thank you so much for listening to “Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy!” And now, it’s time to turn it back over to my alter ego, Vicki, who must be kind of exhausted after her, uh, interview! I almost felt like I was being interviewed!
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] ###