We Ain't the Bad Guys!

“We Ain’t The Bad Guys!” - Episode 43

Rescued prison escapees Nicki and Gneeecey are mistaken for Nicki’s wicked double NickNick and Gneeecey’s evil lookalike, Ebegneeezer Gesundheit Eeeceygnay. The two are whisked away to the Splattsburgh Quadrant, where Ebengeeezer is to be sworn in for his thirteenth term as Planet HyenaZitania’s Grate BiggButtKizz. 

Rushed to the podium, zany Gneeecey tosses Ebegneeezer’s speech and invents his own on the spot. As he takes the oath of office, Ebegneeezer emerges from the back, howling, “Imposter!” NickNick, gangster bodyguard Jerko, and swarms of black-suited secret service agents appear onstage, weapons drawn. Nicki and Gneeecey are once more running for their lives.  

We thank Marysol Rodriguez, Sandi Solá, Sal Solá, Marcellina Ramirez, Rick “El Molestoso” Rivera, Diane L., Brunie Cariño, and Toni Aponte 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 much 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!

Transcript

Transcript / “We Ain’t The Bad Guys!”- episode 43, 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….

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Cuckoo Clock] 

SOOPERFLEA, AKA FLEA, AKA FLEAGLOSSITTY FLOPPINSPLODGE:  Mrs. Scriblig—I mean, Grandma—are ya okay?

NICKI RODRIGUEZ: Grandma, are you feeling any better? 

INGABORE SCRIBLIG, AKA “GRANDMA”: I tink so, Nicki and Flea…I tink it vas definitely someting I ate….

DIROCTOR BIZZIG “ZIG” GNEEECEY: Why’s everyone lookin’ at meee? I, meee, the grate Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey, cooked everythin’ normal, jus’ the way I stinkin’ usually do! Normal!

F: Yeah, Zig. Normal for you!

G: Shaaadup, Fleaglossitty!

DOCTOR ALEXANDRA C. IDNAS: Ingabore, vould you like me to drive you over to Florence Ferguson Memorial’s ER just to be checked out?

IS: No, no tank you, Alexandra. Maybe just a glass of vater vould be good now.

N: I’ll go in the kitchen and get you a nice cold glass of water, Grandma.

G: Nah, Ig, I’ll go get it. I know my kitchen better than yooou—ya might bust somethin’!

SFX: [Squeaking Sneakers] [Glass Debris] [Metal Crash] [Dish Ceramic] [Glass Shatter] [Bang][Splash 1] [Squeaking Sneakers] 

G: Here, Graaandma. Brung ya this real nice glass of water. Leftover from the simmered ice block soup I cooked us for lunch. H-two-O, wit’ extra O!

IS: Vell…uh….

DI: You know, Ingabore, I just remembered, I alvays carry dis insulated vater bottle vit me. Keeps dee vater delightfully chilled.

G: Whaaat—y’mean I went to the trouble of washin’ this here lousy glass for nuthin’?

IS: Tank you, Alexandra. Vhat a pretty container! Mmmm. I’m beginning to feel much better already! Now, Nicki, I tink eet vould be nice for us to have some closure here. I’d like wery much to hear how you and Diroctor Gneeecey finally got out of dat jam back on Planet HyenaZitania….

DI: Yah, I agree, vee do need some closure here. Please, Nicki, do tell us vhat happened next!

F: Yeah, Nicki, I awready know, but I wanna hear it again!

N: Okay. Let me refresh you first. After being rescued from that amphibious vehicle that had stalled out at the bottom of Planet HyenaZitania’s Palabrian Sea—with our oxygen running out—Doctor Gneeecey and I—

G: Ya mean “Diroctor Gneeecey,” ya Ig, I’m a doctor an’ director of this here stinkin’ county—

N: And my name is Nicki, not “Ig”!

G: Stinkin’ whatever, Ig…. An’ it wasn’t my lousy fault that we stalled out after I, y’know, pressed that dopey red button that’cha told me not to press—

N: Whatever…. So, uh, moving right along, after Diroctor Gneeecey and I were rescued by the Sea Police who mistook me for being my evil double NickNick and Diroctor Gneeecey for being his evil double Ebegneeezer—

G: My very hideous double—

N: They immediately whisked the two of us away to the Splattsburg Quadrant. Bodyguards led us onto an outdoor stage where Ebegneeezer was to be sworn in for another term as Planet HyenaZitania’s leader. 

SFX: [Helicopters] [Police Sirens]

N: There had been a prison outbreak from ZomSect3—we’d just escaped from there! Some of the inmates who’d befriended us had also escaped. They stood beneath us, by the edge of our platform, fists clenched and glaring, believing that we were NickNick and Ebegneeezer. 

 G: I made this really cool speech, promisin’ to give everyone the shirts offa their backs, an’ I also told ’em how I fixed it so youse can plug appliances an’ all other ’lectrical stuff into every tree trunk now ’cause they’re all grounded wit’ them three-pronged adapters! I was jus’ about to repeat the oath of office— “I, Ebegneeezer Gesundheit Eeeceygnay, swear to uphold the laws of our great, double-sunned planet of HyenaZitania, and faithfully serve my thirteenth term as Grate BiggButtKizz….”

N: And then, suddenly, all heck broke loose! “Imposter!” howled Ebegneeezer as he sprinted onstage from the back entrance, flanked by Jerko, NickNick, and swarms of black-suited bodyguards, too many to count, weapons drawn!

G: Them heckilopters—

N: Y’mean, helicopters—

G: Yeah. Them heckilopters an’ cops were after us, too!

SFX: [Music Logo Big Band] [Cinematic Boom A] [Fail Horn] [Police Sirens] [Suspense]

N: The lectern overturned as I grabbed you by the neck of your T-shirt. Through a thickening white haze, I could just about see that we stood face-to-face with Ebegneeezer, Jerko, and NickNick. My evil double had aimed her razor-sharp crimson red fingernails at my face, no doubt ready to scratch out my eyeballs.

G: I yelled, “Ig! Don’t jus’ stinkin’ staaand there! Dooooo somethin’, Ig! Pleeeease!” 

N: Yeah. You actually said the word “please.” I just about heard you as the jet engines in my skull began to rumble. My eyes remained focused on our three adversaries and the mob of bodyguards bearing down upon us. And I concentrated on them as hard as I could.

SFX: [Hollow Spooky Fear] [Jet Engine Startup] [Supersonic Aerodynamic Whoosh] [Magic Glitter]

N: And in an instant, they all froze, in mid-leap! Then you hollered, “Ig, ya done it!” And I shouted, “C’mon, let’s go! They’re not gonna stay like this forever!”

G: Yeah, Ig. You ain’t perfected your skills yet at that point.

N: I’ll never forget how that stage trembled beneath our feet as the crowd rushed onto it, determined to get up close to the guy who gave them the shirts off their backs. You and I took off, weaving our way through bodies in motion, like football players. And, arms outstretched, our friends, the undetected escapees, helped us down.

G: I screamed, “We ain’t the bad guys!”

N: You flopped right into good guy Brad Shipman’s hands. And he set you down and replied, “We know. Remember us, your buddies from ZomSect3?” Talk about the two-sunned Planet HyenaZitania and its doubles. Brad and Meg Shipman were doubles of our Perswayssick County’s Burt and Mary Shisskey, owners of Shisskey’s Bakery, and really great people. Clyde Weaver, Planet HyenaZitania’s double of my good buddy and GAS Broadcast Network colleague Cleve Wheeler, motioned to us. “Yeah, fancy meetin’ you here,” he joked. “Okay, follow me!” Our swift exit went unnoticed as the dark-suited thugs, who had come back to life, and outnumbered security scrambled all over, engaged in a losing battle. 

G: Then we spotted Mister ZeeBee’s brother. He was defoofinitely spooked! His wild red mane flew all over the stinkin’ place as he galloped out of sight on all fours.

N: Meanwhile, we managed to squeeze through a surprising gap in a chain-link fence and hightail it out of there, off the pavilion grounds, and into the adjacent forest. Walls of towering prickly bushes, maybe ten feet tall, provided cover but ripped at our flesh and drew blood.

G: My stinkin’ feet got all tangled up in them lousy vines an’ roots. An’ there were all these dopey leaves, too. SFX: [Leaves] It was like summer an’ fall at the same time! “Which way we goin’?” I asked. “It’s priddy stinkin’ dark in here! Gotta siddown!”

N: Brad agreed and suggested we stop for a little while to, y’know, get our bearings. We couldn’t even tell which way we were going. And that emerald canopy of leaves above us all but obliterated any daylight. “Not havin’ much luck with my GPS app here,” said Clyde, chuckling halfheartedly as he swiped away on his device. “At least they can’t find us if we can’t find us.” Deep in thought, I lowered myself onto a petrified log, certainly feeling no sympathy for Ebegneeezer, but thinking how traumatic it must’ve been for his two young daughters to witness that whole onstage fiasco...I wondered what was happening there now…

G: We knew the cops had to be searching for all of us.

N: Yeah. And muttering something about hating everyone and everything, especially trees and bushes, you flumped down in front of me. SFX: [Leaves] “Let us take this opportunity to ponder whether we’re heading east or west,” proposed Velma. “And that promises to be quite a test,” added her sister Vlatta. 

SFX: [Leaves] Leaves crackled as she and her twin sister plopped down onto the ground. Velma and Vlatta were doubles of Perswayssick County’s Councilperson Verna Vlott and freeholder Vlotta Vern—another set of twins who exhibited a rare poetic synergy. I also remember Clyde complaining that he wasn’t getting any kind of GPS signal. Not good. 

G: Real stinkin’ not good!

SFX: [Halloween Cinematic Logo]

N: And so, the seven of us sat in silence, our mood as gloomy as our surroundings. “We’ll be okay,” Brad reassured us after a couple of minutes. “I believe that justice and good always prevail.” And Clyde nodded in agreement, replying, “Me too. That’s what keeps us goin’.”

G: An’ I said, “Well, justice better stinkin’ hurry up!” My lousy pants were busted, y’know, from when I bent over, an’ them lousy plaaants were awready makin’ my bimbus itch. Was prayin’ they weren’t poisonous ivy! Had that once, couldn’t sit for weeks! 

N: I remember you jumped up and began scratching vigorously. 

G: Heh, heh, heh….

N: Then suddenly, Meg pointed up to the sky. “Look!” she cried. “Suns are out again!” Brad peered up. A brilliant shaft of light angled through an opening in the dark forest ceiling. “Now we’ve got some sense of direction,” he said. “Now, we know which way to head, and we can—” 

SFX: [Thunder 1] An ear-splitting clap of thunder interrupted him. How could that even be, we all wondered, if the two suns were out, we asked?  Clyde rose, saying, “I have no idea. Let’s get outta here. Not good to be under trees during electrical storms.”

G: An’ I agreed. Real dangerousical to stay there. Trees didn’t even look like they were grounded. Didn’t see no outlets or USB ports on any of ’em. They jus’ looked like regoogular trees.

N: “Let’s just follow that glow,” said Velma, helping her sister up. Brushing off her posterior, Vlatta replied, “I’m in absolute agreement, you know.” So, we all got back on our feet and staggered toward the sunbeams.

SFX: [Suspense] [Police Siren] [Ambulance Siren]

G: I couldn’t keep up wit’ youse peopoople. An’ I was hopin’ an’ prayin’ that there weren’t no agoogilators or crockookadiles in there to get me!

N: Yeah, they’d only get you, right? Anyway, Clyde pivoted and scooped you up onto his shoulders. He declared, “I’ll carry anyone who’s fighting against the tyranny!” “You two befriended us in ZomSect3,” Meg said. “Now it’s our turn to help you.” After stumbling around for what seemed like a half-hour, we reached a clearing. “We can take cover behind there,” suggested Clyde. His eyes were fixed on an elongated gray single-story building. I remember Brad adjusting his soaking wet T-shirt. “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed. Perspiration plastering her blond bangs to her forehead, Meg agreed. “Only plan around,” she replied. 

G: I was still up there on Clyde’s shoulders.

N: Yeah. You’d been uncharacteristically quiet as we sprinted down the blacktop. Huffing and puffing, I glanced over at the elderly sisters, shocked that they were able to keep up! They didn’t even break a sweat as they flew down the road in their tight pinstriped skirts. They put me to shame. Decades younger, I was ready to drop. When we finally reached that gray warehouse, I leaned against a rough cinder block wall, gasping for air.

G: Ya always were kinda soft, ya Ig.

N: Well, Diroctor Gneeecey, I’d like to see you running like we were. Anyway, I remember Velma’s kind baby blues flashing my way. “With time,” she said. “you’ll learn to develop and control your considerable powers.” “And,” added Vlatta, smiling, “you’ll gain wisdom like ours.” That blew me away! But, before I could respond, a jagged lightning bolt shattered the postcard blue skies. SFX: [Thunder 1]

G: I rememboober. I almost fell offa Cleve’s—I stinkin’ mean Clyde’s—shoulders!

N: We gawked as a multicolored holographic test pattern materialized above our heads. Made up of translucent horizontal stripes, it stretched and curved from where we stood all the way to a point in the far distance. “This way!” boinged a strange but familiar voice. It seemed to emanate from the unearthly rainbow. 

G: “Flea-glos-sitty! Sounds jus’ like Flea!” 

N: I remember you smacking the top of poor Clyde’s head with each syllable. 

G: Who stinkin’ else was I gonna smack?

N: “This way!” pleaded that voice again. “Take the wormhole!”

SFX: [Atmosphere]

G: An’ I really believed it hadda be you, Fleaglossitty! Stinkin’ sounded jus’ like ya!

F: It was, guys. It was my superhero telepathy at work. Enhanced by that Empathy 5000 machine I had developed to feel my chiropractic patients’ pain so I could help ’em better. The one that got me trapped in Nicki’s closet wit’ all them weird, blindin’ lights, back in her dimension of Earth. I was stuck, physically speakin’, but could communicate,wit’ my mind! 

G: Still can’t, for the stinkin’ life of me, figure out why ya would wanna feel someone else’s backache!

DI: I tink dat idea ees admirable, Flea, and dat eet can be further developed!

IS: Yah, Flea!

F: Thanks, Doctor Idnas! Thanks, Grandma!

IS: So please, tell us vhat happened next.

N: Okay, Grandma. So, my eyes had widened in a storm of discovery. Flea had been saying, “wormhole,” y’know, telepathically, in those weird, recurring dreams I’d been having. Sounded like he was saying “squirm bowl.” Or “berm hole.” Or maybe “germ mole.” Didn’t figure it out till that moment! It was “wormhole”!

F: That was it, Nicki! That was the message I was sendin’ out to ya!

G: How come ya sent it to her an’ not meee, Fleaglossitty?

F: Zig, I was sendin’ it out to you, too. But ya weren’t receptive. Ya weren’t listenin’! 

G: I was too!

N: Okay, okay, guys. Back to our story….

G: Ain’t a story! Really hapoopened!

N: Yes. So, Clyde suggested, “Let’s see where that strange light ends.” 

G: An’ I rememboober he had the nerve to say, “An’ uh, Diroctor or whatever your name is, if ya pound on my head one more time, you’re on your own. I’ll put’cha right down and leave ya here.” He didn’t really understaaand how important I am!

N. Yeah, well, at the time, your big Gneeecey yapper opened, but no words escaped as we continued our mad dash.

G: How dare ya incinerate that I got a big yapper, ya Ig?

N: [sighs] 

SFX: [Suspense] [Police Sirens] [Ambulance Sirens]

N: We ran forever but didn’t seem to be making any progress. We weren’t any closer to the light. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep going. That asphalt felt harder with each step, giving my sore knees a real pounding. Those unrelenting two suns showed no mercy either, and there wasn’t a tree in sight—metallic or otherwise.

SFX: [Thunder 1]

N: In that instant, the kaleidoscopic arch above shifted. The design in the sky morphed, before our very eyes, into a diaphanous scarlet tunnel. It extended down to the ground, only yards away. “Back to our universe,” echoed the voice we had heard before. “Back to our universe!”

SFX: [Atmosphere]

F: That was me, too, guys.

SFX: [Atmosphere]

N: We all skidded to a stop. Vlatta screamed, “Holy….”  “…moly!” shouted Velma, completing her twin sister’s thought. And Brad’s jaw dropped. Meg, equally lost for words, grabbed his arm and gazed ahead.“A wormhole of some kind,” marveled a wide-eyed Clyde.

G: An’ I said, “Looky, Ig! Flea musta busted outta your lousy closet!”

N: Despite the heat, I found myself shivering. “Holy crap!” I shouted. Then sirens began wailing. SFX: [Police Sirens] Clyde lowered you onto the sidewalk and advised me, “You two take that wormhole. Should hopefully get you back home. At any rate, it’ll get you outta here!”

G: He said it to me, too, ya Ig.

N: Yes, Diroctor Gneeecey. And glancing over his shoulder, Brad said, “We’d better get outta here too.” Meg nodded. “We’d better scatter,” she warned.

G: An’ Clyde had one of them weird cars like they got on Planet HyenaZitania. Y’know, like the one we were in when we sunk to the bottom of the Palabrian sea?

N: Yeah.

G: Well, Ig, don’t say it like that, so oogdimonious. I didn’t press that lousy red stop sign-shaped button on purpoopose when ya told me not to.

N: [sighs] Uh-huh…. “No worries, guys, got our ride right here,” announced Clyde. I remember he winked as he pulled that little silver disk out of his pocket and plunked it onto the pavement. He pressed the enlarger switch, and we all sprang backward as it expanded to full size.  “Okay, squeeze in,” he told his pals. “Just enough space for us five,” he’d said, adding, “Now, let’s get outta here! An’ good luck, you two. Just enter that wormhole, and with luck, you should be home free!” Trembling, I just about managed a smile as I replied. “Thanks so much…for everything!”

G: He was a alright guy, I guess….

N: Yes, Diroctor Gneeecey. After they all piled in and the doors slammed shut, Clyde slid his window open and urged us, “You’d better take advantage of that wormhole—like now! Those suckers have been known to disappear, just like that!” SFX: [Sports Car Engine Rev] [Sports Car Engine] The vehicle sped off. I grabbed your hand and shouted. “C’mon, Diroctor! You heard what he said!” Then, that voice from the sky actually called us by name! It bellowed—

SFX: [Atmosphere]

F: It was me! I yelled, “Nicki! Zig! Hurry!”

SFX: [Atmosphere]

N: And I dragged you forward, Diroctor Gneeecey. “C’mon!” I shouted. “You hear those sirens?” SFX: [Police Sirens] And what did you do?

G: I certaintaneously heard the despooperation in your Ig voice. But I hadda do what I hadda do! “Wait, Ig!” I ordered ya. “My lousy teddy bear Yammicles jus’ fell outta my shoe! Back there!” 

N: You broke free from my grip and sprinted several yards back toward a limp brown heap on the sidewalk. SFX: [Squeaking Sneakers] You shrieked, “An’ looky, Ig, here’s my thousan’-dollar bill!” As you gathered up your, uh, belongings, more thunder cracked overhead. SFX: [Thunder 2] Two seconds later, the entire tunnel dematerialized. SFX: [Magic Glitter] And the unearthly colored lights in the sky flickered out. Totally disappeared. SFX: [Magic Summon] I dropped to my knees. “The wormhole,” I sobbed, wringing my hands in despair, “it’s gone! Now, we’ll never get home!”

SFX: [Music Logo Big Band] [Cinematic Boom A] [Magic Spell]

G: Don’t say it, Fleaglossitty—I don’t wanna hear it! 

F: I didn’t say nuthin’, Zig!

G: An’ Ig, the way ya tell them stories, ya always stinkin’ make meee look baaad! 

IS: Vell, dat sure vas some story!

DI: Yah, eet really vas!

G: Wasn’t no stinkin’ story—it really hapoopened!

IS: Vell, vee can’t vait to hear vhat happens next, right, Alexandra?

DI: Yah, Ingabore! And I’m so glad you’re feeling better! Next Tuesday, I tink vee can come by again to hear more, vould dat be okay, Nicki?

N: Of course, Doctor Idnas!

G: Yeah, I’ll make lunch again—ah, hah, hah, fiduciary! SFX: [Clinking Coins]

DI: Diroctor Gneeecey, I see you are still sneezing out dimes!

G: Yeah, an’ lots of ’em! SFX: [Clinking Coins] Hmmm. Nine bucks an’ thirty cents. Gonna take ’em all to the bank in the mornin’!

F: Uh, Zig, why are you standin’ on one foot like that?

G: Checkin’ my balance before I write out my deposit slip!

F: Zig—

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

G: Fleaglossitty! Ya stinkin’ distractipated me—made me fall on my lousy bimbus! An’ thanks for the advice, Steve!

SFX: [Cuckoo Clock] 

DI: Oh, Ingabore, look vhat time eet is!

IS: Yah, Alexandra, vee must get going! Bye-bye! Until next veek!

SFX: [Magic Spell]

Nicki Rodriguez here again! We hope you enjoyed this week’s episode of “Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy!” And we thank you for listening. Please help us spread the word—please tell a friend about us! We appreciate every single download! And again, thank you, Marysol Rodriguez, Sal Solá, Sandi Solá, Marcellina Ramirez, Rick “El Molestoso” Rivera, Diane L., Brunie Cariño, and Toni Aponte, for being generous supporting members through BuyMeACoffee.com! Time now to turn it back over to my alter ego, Vicki. Until next time, be well and stay safe!

SFX: [Magic Spell]

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] ###