Vanishing Escape!

🚨“Vanishing Escape!”🚨 Ep.195 

🌀 In this thrilling episode of the Sooperflea & Gneeecey podcast, chaos reigns as the canine-humanoid duo vanishes from Nurse Maudlyn's grasp using mysterious vanishing cream! Meanwhile, in an alternate reality, earthling Nicki Rodriguez faces her most dangerous mission yet: a perilous jump across dimensions to make it back home. With Sooperflea’s help, will she survive the journey?

Strap in. Things are about to get weird.  Expect wild comedy, interdimensional action, and heart in this sci-fi fantasy adventure with your favorite misfit heroes. 🔊 Listen now and join the chaos: https://perswayssickradio.buzzsprout.com

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Episode Artwork created by ChatGPT

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.

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/

Transcript

Transcript / Vanishing Escape! – Episode 195, by Vicki Solá. 

All content © 2025 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]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: In our last episode, “Waking Nightmare on Murgatroyd Avenue,” evil Nurse Maudlyn has slipped on her bimbus after her kidnapped hostages, black-furred canine-humanoid Fleaglossitty “Flea” Floppinsplodge, also known as Sooperflea and his BFF, the white-and-black-furred, high-voiced canine-humanoid Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey, uh, accidentally relieved themselves on her bedroom floor….

SFX: [Hiccup] [Comedy Chase] [Sneakers Squeaking]

DIROCTOR BIZZIG “ZIG” GNEEECEY & FLEAGLOSSITTY “FLEA” FLOPPINSPLODGE, AKA “SOOPERFLEA” [in unison]: Halp! Halp! Halp! Halp!

F: Scatter!

G: Run for your stinkin’ life!

SFX: [Hiccup] [Comedy Chase] 

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: The wicked woman is already beyond furious that her very expensive large tube of vanishing cream has been squeezed empty…by guess who?…. How will Gneeecey and Flea get out of this one? 

NURSE MAUDLYN: Wait till I get hold of you two dastardly canine-humanoids!

G: Under her lousy bed, now!

F: Okay, Zig! 

SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] [Cartoon Slip x 2] 

NM: I see you two! And you’re gonna be sorrier than sorry when I get hold of you! Ow! My back—it’s locked—I can’t get up!

F: Looky at all this junk she got under her bed here, Zig! Hey…do you see what I see? 

G: Yeah, Fleaglossitty! A gigaaantical container of vanishing cream! 

F: Quiet, Zig—she’ll hear us!

NM: What are you two dastardly canine-humanoids whispering about? That spasm in my back is letting up, and when it does, you’re both toast!

F: Here, Zig, I opened it! Let’s slather it all over ourselves, even our sneakers!

G: An’ then we gotta make a run for it!

F: Yeah! Downstairs!

SFX: [Cartoon Slip x 2] [Sneakers Squeaking]

NM: Where are you two? I hear you, but I can’t see you!

SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] [HumanWalkDownstairs] 

NM: I’m up, now, and coming after you! 

F: Quick, Zig! Let’s see if them mancaves we made behind her drapes the last time we were stuck here, y’know, inside her walls, are still there!

G: They stinkin’ are! C’mon, Fleaglossitty!

SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] [HumanWalkDownstairs] [HumanBodyFall] [Cartoon Slip] [Slip & Fall] [Duck Horn]

NM: Yaaaaaaaaah! 

SFX: [Cartoon 1] [Hiccup] [Magic Spell] [Misgivings & Misfortune]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: Meanwhile, the dimension-burned Earthling human Nicki Rodriguez continues to exist in that alternate timeline after having merged accidentally with her double. Finding herself in Perswayssick County seemingly for the first time, she wakes up, disoriented, in Gneeecey’s pet puppy Oxymoron’s condo. She’s exasperated when Sooperflea keeps testing her, trying to determine whether she’s strong enough to survive a possibly deadly dimension jump back to her own world…. 

NICKI RODRIGUEZ: “C’mon, Flea—you promised—” 

“You’re swayin’.” 

“I’m exhausted—that’s why! And there’s nothing in this here whole county I can eat—” 

“Your legs are still weak.” 

“Please, I gotta leave—today!” 

“I dunno.” 

I fell to my knees. “I’m begging.” First time I’d ever begged a dog for anything….

“Stand on one foot again.” 

“I feel so stupid—I hope no one can see me.” 

“Jus’ do it.” He pounded his fist on the table. SFX: [Blow on Table] “I’m responsible for ya. Ya don’t wanna end up like—like—” 

I crossed my arms. “Julio?” The night before, Gneeecey and Sooperflea had warned me that this fellow human had likely perished because he’d attempted a return home to Earth too soon. 

“Jus’ do what I say,” growled the usually good-natured Flea. “Stand on your right foot. Ready? Go!” He clicked his stopwatch. SFX: [Metal Click 4]

“There!” I shouted, struggling to maintain my balance for five seconds. “Is that good enough for you? Are you satisfied?” 

Flea clipped his timepiece back onto his red utility belt. SFX: [Metal Click 4] “Sit.” 

First time ever a dog had ordered me to sit. I lowered myself and tumbled backward into one of the living room’s occasional chairs. Gneeecey had warned us that they were chairs only occasionally. Well, sure enough, this time, the freaking chair decided not to be a chair. It threw me. I landed in a hurting heap. I glared at the smug piece of furniture. I didn’t like its attitude. Before I could pick myself up off the floor, little Oxymoron was all over me, licking my face. 

It was disconcerting to receive comfort from someone who bore such close resemblance to Gneeecey.

“I, uh, didn’t mean—um, I’m sorry for, y’know, when I said—I mean, when I thought I’d rather have malaria than ever come back here again,” I stammered. “I really didn’t mean—” 

“It’s okay,” replied Flea, patting my arm. 

“Thanks for understanding.” 

“De nada.” 

My jaw dropped. The superhero spoke Spanish.

“Been waitin’ to use that—we studied alien languages at the academy. Trouble speaks in many tongues.” 

“I—I imagine it does.” 

“Let’s go, Nicki. Time to get’cha home.” Flea crouched down to rub Oxymoron’s snowy tummy. “Don’t worry, Spotsickles—Bogelthorpe the doorman will be up soon to take care of ya.” 

Hands trembling, I stroked the pup’s lightbulb-sized head. Flea had finally given me clearance to dimension-jump back to Earth.

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Misgivings & Misfortune]

Oxymoron’s yelps intensified as we lumbered down the corridor. Poor pup was alone again. SFX: [Puppy Barking] My numb, dimension-burned leg muscles didn’t feel all that strong. I had to stop every few yards. Flea had determined that I was good to go. But was I?

“Bad morning,” gushed skinny, human Bogelthorpe as he bounced out of the chiming elevator. SFX: [Elevator Chimes] A choke chain dangled from his pasty fingers. The doorman smoothed down his greasy black patent-leather hair with his free hand. He reminded me very much of a certain Transylvanian count. 

“Bad mornin’,” replied Flea, his eyes fixed on my gimpy limbs. Bogelthorpe inserted a long, thin arm back into the car after we entered and pressed the button for the lobby, to save us the trouble. SFX: [Electronic Button] His open hand, ignored by Flea, narrowly escaped being severed at the wrist by the closing doors. I clutched the icy railing and braced myself for the ear-popping descent. 

SFX: [Elevator Chimes]

SFX: [Magic Spell] 

Daylight glorified my prized red ’64-and-a-half Mustang’s new streaks and dents. My late dad had spent years restoring that car, his last gift to me. 

Flea had rescued me when my car was shoved off the Perswayssick Bridge by some invisible force. Afterward, I’d been in no shape to drive. So, I let Flea drive us into town. He was a nice guy, but a horrible driver—the damage to my vehicle was proof. Tears welled up as I flopped into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut. SFX: [Slot Clunk]

Flea leaned into my open window. “You’re trapped,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder, “between worlds.” 

“Whaaa—”

 “Perswayssick County was created when our two dimensions collided.” 

“This isn’t funny—” 

The terrier-hound-like canine-humanoid fiddled with his long black furry ear. “It was an accidental interface.” 

“C’mon—” 

“Our Planet Eccchs scientists call it an ‘EDE’—an Exponential Dimensional Event. It’s complicated—hasta do wit’ time warps an’ the time-space continuum, an’ tripled dimensional displacement.” 

“Tripled dimensional displacement,” I repeated, praying that Flea wasn’t some kind of nut.  Trouble evidently did speak in many tongues.

“I’m not some kinda nut!” 

“Hey—you promised that you wouldn’t violate my mental privacy with your superhero ESP!” 

“Ya wanna go home?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be telling me how?” 

“Displacement formulas are so complex that Zig thinks about ’em when he has trouble sleepin’. He says it works better than countin’ herds of vlork vaulting over vlonkets.” 

I winced. I couldn’t picture Gneeecey counting anything but cash. 

“Zig will explain the technical part better, some other time—” 

“Some other time? There isn’t gonna be—” 

“Sssssh!  I know this is difficult to wrap your head around.”

“You got that right.” 

“When ya think of it though, we’re lucky.” 

I licked my dry lips. “We are? How so?” 

“Well,” replied Flea, laughing so hard that he almost began crying, “if one of those collidin’ dimensions, say yours, was antimatter, we wouldn’t even be here havin’ this conversation.” 

I shot him a sidelong glance.

“Anyway,” he continued, regaining his composure, “when the outer reaches of our atmospheres—yours an’ mine—touched, that action created a whole new dimension incorporatin’ elements of your Earth an’ my Planet Eccchs.” 

“Strange universe. You’d better not be pulling my leg.” 

“I’m not. An’ actually, our scientists say it’s a multiverse—at least a tripliverse, possibly a quadrupliverse.” 

My tired eyes widened. 

“Anyway,” he informed me, “our Perswayssick County’s parta New Joisey.” 

“Oh?” 

“Planet Eccchs—actually, our richly historic Commonwealth of Bozovia—brushed by your Earth’s Garden State, quite accidentally.” 

“How come the rest of Jersey doesn’t know?” 

“Our Perswayssick County’s not detectable by your dimension.” 

“So, then you don’t pay state taxes.” 

Flea’s face lit up. “Or federal. But we do maintain our own taxation commission, to ensure county safety an’ services. Taxation is one of the things our Grate Gizzygalumpaggis Zig Gneeecey oversees.”

My jaw tightened. Gneeecey would tax a dead horse and enjoy it. 

The superhero noticed my pained expression. “Zig’s not all that bad. I mean, everyone’s got their faults, but he’s really an okay guy. We’ve been best friends since our childhood back on Planet Eccchs.” 

I remained silent.

 “Do ya understand all this so far?” 

“Honestly, Flea, I’m trying.” 

He rubbed his fuzzy chin, searching for the right words. “Ya can’t see these other dimensions from here or there—it’s kinda like not bein’ able to see somethin’ that’s around the corner.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

He raised an index finger. “Like radio waves—ya can’t see ’em, but’cha know they’re there.” 

I nodded. “Okay. Got’cha. But now, how do I return to, y’know, regular New Jersey?” 

“Well, that all depends on what’cha consider regular—” 

“Please—” 

“Awright, awright.” He grabbed a pen from his utility belt and scribbled something on the back of a business card. 

“What’s that?” I asked.

He slapped his hand over my mouth, squashing half my nose. “These words are your passport home. Don’t say ’em aloud till you’re in a deserted area! Nebberd-kinnezzard—an’ that means extra never, where I come from—say ’em when you’re sick, or wit’ anyone, or in a populated area—it would be disastrous.” 

Trying my best to breathe through one clogged nostril, I could only grunt. 

“I’d suggest you drive out to those woods, back on Street Avenue,” Flea advised, finally removing his hot, prickly mitt from my face. “Y’know, we passed through there, after I rescued ya, on our way to Perswayssick City an’ Gneeezle’s.” 

“Just these four words will get me home?” The words—which I’m not gonna say outloud now, for the sake of our safety—seemed very familiar. 

“Yup—like Zig says, three lousy numbers an’ a color.” 

“You mean, Gneeecey knows how to—” 

“Now, put that card away!” 

“How do I know that this, uh, incantation, won’t transport me to your planet?” 

Flea gazed heavenward. “It can’t. Nuthin’ can.” 

“You can’t return to your planet?”

“Nope.” The elbow-high superhero wiped his wet peepers on his navy polyester sleeve. “Us Eccchsers—canine-humanoids, humans, an’ other folk, like Gneeecey’s restaurant delivery mouse Altitude—have no such way of goin’ home.” 

“Why not?” 

“Has somethin’ to do wit’ our planet bein’ the PDT—the Primary Dimensional Transgressor. Our scientists say we caused the EDE. Quantum Electrohypernuculational Globulization or somethin’ like that—I’m not totally sure. Ask Zig—” 

“You mean, Gneeecey?” 

“He’s the expert,” declared Flea. 

“Can’t your, y’know, ESP help?” 

“Even when it works, it never gives me an answer to this.” 

“Does your planet know you’re stranded?” 

“Yeah. Our technology’s kinda more advanced than yours,” Flea answered apologetically. 

“Anyone from my New Jersey stuck on your planet after this, uh, EDE mishap?” 

“Not that we know of—although some of our citizens have reported sightin’ rogue tomatoes. Giant ones.” 

“How many of you Planet Eccchsers  are stuck here in Perswayssick County?” 

He lowered his head. “At last census, fifteen million.” 

“That’s more people than in all of—” 

“New York City,” he proclaimed, finishing my sentence. “More people than your planet has in some of its countries.” 

“So, are you able to communicate with your planet?” 

“We maintain an electronic link-up—our computers have a twenny-seven-zillion-point-two terafluroflop capability,” he replied, sniffling. “We can even transfer certain light materials back an’ forth, like rindom seeds.” 

My own eyes had misted over. Flea blew his honking nose on his red cape. SFX: [Duck Horn] “Our scientists—here in Perswayssick County an’ back on our mother planet—are workin’ day an’ night, thirteen months a year, to find the right formula to bring us home.” 

I took his four-fingered hand in mine. The hint of a smile suddenly illuminated his tear-stained face, much like sunshine peeking through clouds after a soaking storm. “Y’know, as Grate Gizzygalumpaggis—or, Grate Gizzy for short, to, y’know, conserve vowels an’ consonants—our Zig Gneeecey will not only be accountable for our safety an’ welfare— he’ll be spearheadin’ our efforts to return home.” 

“You mean, Gneeecey—” 

“Fleeeea!” screamed a sign-carrying figure, zigzagging across the street, as horns blasted and tires shrieked. SFX: [Screeching Brakes] [Horns] 

Flea’s bulbous eyeballs popped out. “Flubbubb—watch out!” 

A split-second later, a speeding brown Freak O’Nature Foods truck plowed into a swerving kelly-green taxi. SFX: [Car Crash] [Glass Shatter]

Oblivious to the fact that Perswayssick City’s main drag Murgatroyd Avenue had, in his honor, just tied itself into knots to gift-wrap him a smash-up, complete with sparkling confetti, the furry jaywalking canine-humanoid stepped up onto the curb. 

As the drivers emerged from their crumpled vehicles, cussing each other out, Flea grabbed his pal by the shoulders. “For Saint Bogelthorpe’s sake, Flubbubb—ya jus’ almost got hit!” 

“Lousy drivers,” muttered Flubbubb. His golden, iridescent fur reflected subtleties of the rainbow with each movement. A cinnamon widow’s peak capped his lustrous dome, and he possessed a magnificently silky buff tail. Flubbubb set his handmade “Stop the Divlopment” sign down on the sidewalk. The “S” had been scrawled backward. 

SFX: [Sirens] [Metal Bang] “I see,” Flea shouted over the whining sirens and clanking tow-trucks, “you’re demonstratin’ against the development.” 

“Yeah—I been protestin’ the divlopment all mornin’, all by myself, to impress Zig.” 

“Nice threads,” commented Flea, noticing the handsome Flubbubb’s electric-blue “Save the Goonafish” T-shirt.

“Thanks. Been wearin’ it every day—I mean, how can the poor goonafish learn if their underwater schools get bulldozed, like Zig says? An’ we can’t let those mean divloppers steal all Zig’s money—” 

“Flubbubb,” interrupted Flea, looking my way, “Nicki Rodriguez. Nicki, Flubbubb Finial.” 

“Hi.” I extended a hand. 

“Oh, hi.” Flubbubb glanced absentmindedly in my direction for all of two seconds, then addressed Flea, in his Gneeecey-like voice. “Can’t wait till our big rally tonight, in Circle Square!” 

My teeth hurt at the thought of Gneeecey playing an electrically amplified violin. 

“Uh, Flubbubb—” 

“Did Zig say I could play wit’ youse? Did he? Did he? Did he?” Flubbubb’s tail revolved so rapidly that he resembled a helicopter, ready for take-off. 

“Uh, well, uh—”

“Got my concert triangle—the gold one—specifically an’ professionally tuned, ’specially for tonight. An’ I’m takin’ these anti-xylophobic tablets, too—the pharmacist says they’re herbicidal. They’ll be sure to control my fear of xylophones!”

“Flubbubb, we gotta talk—” 

“I love talkin’ about Zig! He’s so cool!” Flubbubb, Flea, and Gneeecey had been childhood pals back on Planet Eccchs. I recall Flea saying that Flubbubb worshipped the very ground that Gneeecey sat on. Flubbubb was always trying to gain Gneeecey’s favor, with no success.

Steering Flubbubb up the walk, Flea pointed to a chrome-plated railroad car across the street. “Nicki, we’re headin’ over to the diner there. Can I buy ya brunch?” 

“Uh, no—please don’t! Um, I mean, no thanks!” 

Flea smiled. “Okay, Nicki. Next time.” 

“Uh—there won’t be a next time—”

“Don’t be so sure. Oh, an’ here.” Flea handed me a wad of bills. 

“What’s that for?” 

He grinned sheepishly. “Your bumpers.” 

“Thanks, but I can’t take that—you saved my life.” 

He stepped back. “I insist. I caused a lot of damage to your car. My drivin’ was kinda bad.” 

“No, Flea, I absolutely can’t take this. You saved my life.” I tucked the money into Flea’s red utility belt. “Y’know, I’m gonna miss you— you’re a real class act.” 

“Aw, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever told me.” His eyes glistened with tears. 

“I mean it, Flea.” 

“You be careful, Nicki. Please.” 

Nodding, I fastened my seatbelt. The superhero tossed a cellophane Freak O’Nature Rindom Doodles bag through my open window. I knew I couldn’t eat ’em. 

The rust-colored, arrow-shaped flakes were razor-sharp—one had punctured my thumb, just the night before, in Spots’s condo. 

“Ya gotta be hungry!” 

I smiled. “Thanks, Flea. Nice meeting you, Flubbubb. If I run into Julio, I’ll tell him you guys said hi.”

Flubbubb’s chin clunked to his chest, his spinning chocolate eyes stilled by terror. 

SFX: [Fail Horn] [Magic Spell]

I was ready to roll. I’d lost track of how many times I’d peered down at the card Flea had given me, to make sure it was still there. Hyperventilating, I turned my key SFX: [Car Engine], comforted by the Mustang’s distinctive idle, that is, until voices exploded from my speakers—sassy and harmonized, like my grandmother’s favorite group, The Andrews Sisters—belting out, “Nuthin’ could be stoopider than a week away on Jupiter, with you, joop-joop-a-joop, stoop-stoop-a-stoop!” 

I slammed the radio’s remaining knob with my fist—popping it off. SFX: [Boing] I screeched out of my parking space. SFX: [Screeching Brakes]

Murgatroyd Avenue remained littered with broken glass from the accident Flubbubb had caused, and traffic was bumper-to-bumper. SFX: [Engine] [Motorcycle Rumbling] [Horns] [Sirens]

Overhead, tangles of unchanging red lights, multi-colored blinkers, and odd signs decorated intersections like carelessly hung holiday ornaments. What did “look before you stop to start before you go,” and “left turners may not, unless not specified not to, especially in this lane, otherwise move into the next left-turn-only lane before trying not to do it again,” mean? 

My damp clothes glued me to my seat as the midday sun transformed the car into a greenhouse. Exhaust mingled with street vendors’ steaming, bitter-smelling rindom-laced munchies, manufacturing a hanging stink. Nausea stole up into my throat. 

SFX: [Fail Horn] [Magic Spell]

I’d made it out of the city. Leaves blew down the road sideways, their sharp points scraping the pavement. The sweet smoke that swirled through the crisp air conjured up phantoms of autumns past. Before I knew it, Street Road’s flame-colored woods filled my windshield. 

Jelly jiggled through my veins as I drove over layers of crunchy foliage SFX: [Leaves Crunch] and parked. I scrutinized Flea’s chicken scratch on the back of his business card until the words meant nothing. 

Its flip side pictured the superhero flying high up in the clouds, clutching a model of a spine, his scarlet cape billowing. Embossed letters below the image read: Fleaglossitty Floppinsplodge, Superhero. In a jam? Call 3-3-3—S-O-O-P-E-R-F-L-E-A. Chiropractic office opening soon on Shnoggleshnook Road & Achilles Avenue! Ask Flea or visit xxx-dot-ifyoucryfleawillfly-dot-zoom or xxx-dot-ouchmyback-dot-click.

Cold perspiration gathered on my upper lip as I recalled other times I’d sat frozen—across the street from the midtown salsa club where I’d often emcee. Each time the traffic light went red, I’d promise myself, next light. Next light, I’ll get out and go into the building. I’d play that game until it was nearly time for the band—and me—to be onstage. Once inside, I’d always wonder why I’d stayed in the car so long. It wasn’t because I was afraid to meet anyone named Julio. 

Heart racing, I lowered my head onto the steering wheel, then bolted upright and opened my mouth. Out tripped Flea’s four little wordsthe three numbers and color....

SFX: [Explosion] [Supersonic Aerodynamic Whoosh] [Magic Summon] After the blinding purple flash, I saw nothing.

SFX: [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Magic Spell]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: Meanwhile, back in that other timeline, at 666 Van Pooop Lane….

SFX: [Cartoon Snoring] 

G: Hear her snorin’ upstairs, Fleaglossitty? We’re lucky she gave up on tryin’ to find us.

F: Yeah, Zig. Bein’ invisible has its perks.

G: But we don’t know how stinkin’ long we’re gonna stay invisible. We gotta figure out some  way to neutralize her for the forstinkable future. 

F: We gotta buy ourselves some time here.

G: Me bein’ a certifiable genius, I just thought of somethin’. Perhaphoops ya remember laaast time we were prisoners in this lousy house, we put that real strong glue on her terlit seat?

F: Yeah, Zig. Our only mistake was, we only put it on the seat. So she ended up freein’ herself, runnin’ around wit’ the toilet seat stuck to her big bimbus!

G: So, this time, we not only put the glue all over the seat, we also glue the seat to the terlit itself! I know where she keeps the glue! 

F: Zig, you’re a genius! 

G: I’m always tellin’ ya that, Fleaglossitty! I should win a nobular peace prize! C’mon!

SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] [HumanWalkUpstairs] [Cartoon 1] [Human Hiccup] [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! Please make sure to tell a friend! And keep on laughing! 

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