A Sock in the Hand's Worth Two in the Piano

“A Sock in the Hand’s Worth Two in the Piano,” Episode 221 

Canine-humanoids Fleaglossitty “Flea” Floppinsplodge and Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey are still stuck in suspended animation — forced to watch scenes from their chaotic past like a bizarre cosmic life-review! 👁️💫Inside Gneeecey’s “beaudiful” Grate Room, the duo relives the day Nicki Rodriguez discovers the unholy stench of Gneeecey’s “lucky socks”… hidden inside his piano! 🎹😷 But before she can escape his odoriferous mansion, a whirlwind of disasters erupts — a bakery break-in, a missing police report (that Gneeecey accidentally EATS! 🤢), and an entire squad of cream-stuffing cops who may be hiding more than crullers! 🍩🚨 Can Nicki and Gneeecey survive the stink, the chaos, and the traffic jam on The Backway — or will their dimensional limbo last forever? 🌀👽

🎧 Tune in for:

💥 Sci-fi comedy hijinks  🐾 Dimension-bending absurdity
🧦 “Sock Repair Shop” scandals  🚔 Nicki’s eternal exasperation with Gneeecey &🍩Snack-loving alien cops

😜 🎧 Dive into the wacky world of Perswayssick County, where sci-fi meets slapstick and the laws of physics—and employment—never apply! 💫 Tune in for interdimensional mayhem, sci-fi parody fun, and laugh-out-loud chaos in this week’s episode of Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy—the bizarre blend of comedy, fantasy, and sci-fi you didn’t know you needed! 🎧✨ 👉 Don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe for more absurd, hilarious adventures through parallel universes! 🌌😂 🎧 Perfect for fans of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Monty Python, Rick and Morty, and anyone who likes their comedy extra weird. 🪐🎧 New episodes every week! 🎧 LISTEN: https://perswayssickradio.buzzsprout.com 🎧 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.

#Comedy #fantasy #SciFi #dogs #dogsofInstagram #Podcast #hitchhikersgalaxyfans #montypythonfans #ParallelUniverse #FunnyAudioDrama #Multiverse #DimensionHopping #WeirdFiction #AudioTheater #RickandMorty

Transcript

Transcript / A Sock in the Hand’s Worth Two in the Piano – Episode 221, by Vicki Solá. 

(Based on material from THE GETAWAY THAT GOT AWAY by Vicki Solá  (© 2011, Full Court Press)

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] [Misfortune & Misgivings]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: Canine-humanoids Fleaglossitty “Flea” Floppinsplodge and Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey have found themselves stuck in suspended animation, watching scenes from the past, almost like watching a life review. At the end of our last episode, they were in for a real surprise….

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Magic Summons] [Magic Glitter]

NURSE MAUDLYN: Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha!

DIROCTOR BIZZIG “ZIG” GNEEECEY: Oh stinkin’ noooo! It’s her again!

FLEAGLOSSITTY “FLEA” FLOPPINSPLODGE, AKA “SOOPERFLEA”: The ol’ gasbag!

NM: Tis I, Nurse Maudlyn! I’ve been here before, eons ago, watching this very scene! How do you think I became so familiar with the layout of your mansion, Diroctor Gneeecey? I’ve kidnapped you already, in another dimension! You’ll never be done with me! Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha!

G & F [in unison]: Holy Saint Bogelthorpe!

SFX: [Magic Summons] [Magic Glitter] [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Magic Spell] [Misgivings & Misfortune]

G: Looky, Fleaglossitty—all of a sudden we been transpooportated to my beaudiful Grate Room.

F: Yeah, Zig, I feel like I can even kinda smell it….

 G: Shaaadup, Fleaglossitty! An’ y’know, I certaincerely hope we ain’t unalive! If we are, it’ll be your stinkin’ fault! An’ now, I gotta worry ’bout ol’ gasbag Nurse Maudlyn kidnappin’ me in another lousy dimension! What if she awready did? What’s gonna happen to the other meee?

F: I dunno, Zig—oh, looky, there’s Nicki! An’ that other you that ain’t kidnapped—yet! 

G: Don’t get intelligent wit’ meee, Fleaglossitty! 

F: Wow! This is jus’ like watchin’ a movie!

G: Yeah. A baaad one. Looky—ya can see the Ig—

F: Ya mean Nicki—

G: Yeah. The Ig. Looks like she’s getting’ ready to talk to herself again….

NICKI RODRIGUEZ: The stink seemed to come from everywhere. Maybe some unfortunate rodent lay decomposing under one of the vividly colored pieces of furniture that vied for attention in The Grate Room.I glanced at my watch. It was eight a.m., and the good diroctor
 had yet to show his face downstairs. He’d been out late again—another midnight meeting with mark. Third one that week.
 Of course, our tardiness would end up being my fault.
I peered underneath Gneeecey’s electric chartreuse, motorized gear-shifting easy chair and nearly jumped out of my skin when an unearthly, hyena-like voice screeched, “Igzed felopsaded!”
Adrenaline surging, I spun around.
“Bad mornin’, ya Iggarooney,” chirped Gneeecey. “Igzed felopsaded. . .igzed felopsaded—”
“What language are you speaking?”
 “I’m studying for my eye exam—memorizatin’ the stinkin’ chart so I do good.”
 “Speaking of your favorite word, stinking,” I began, “do you smell something funny?”
“Nah, Ig, I don’t smell nuthin’ that makes me wanna laugh,” he answered, admiring the unkempt character that grinned back at him from one of the room’s fifteen mirrors. “But we’re gonna be late, an’ it’s your fault. As usual.”
“You’re the one who got up late—”
“Why ain’cha lookin’ for my spare socks? Gotta take ’em to Gus’s Sock Repair Shop—to get fixed!”
“But, we’re—-”
“An’ ya better find that sock repair ticket ya lost! I gotta have them stinkin’ lucky socks back in
time for our revered Grand Ooogitty-Boogitty’s concert. He’s a giant potato who flies through space on the tail of a comet. An’ he wears a shiny gold crown. He’s our spiritual leader and his tail will be in our neck of the woods any day now.”
Even though ol’ Gus knew damned well which reeking pair of socks were Gneeecey’s, he wouldn’t release ’em. Rules were rules, he insisted.
“Look for my spare socks, ya Ig! Look for ’em!”
“But we’re late!”
He jammed his face in mine, assaulting me with his morning breath. “Find ’em!”
“Well, don’t blame me if—” 

“If ya don’t, you’ll never see that poopfolio case of yours that I ain’t got—”
Muttering, I dropped to my aching knees and began to search. I was all too used to looking for stuff. Nights Gneeecey stayed out late, I hunted for my portfolio, determined to work my way up from the mansion’s nightmare of a basement to its fourth floor. The sound of Gneeecey’s pogo stick SFX: [Comedy Boing], or his wet, rubbery nose honks SFX: [Car Honks], would send me hobbling back to my room highspeed. SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking]
I glanced over at the canine-humanoid as he lounged in his chair, perusing his battered copy of The PerswayssickTims.
“Aren’t you gonna look, too?”
“Nope. I’m readin’ this article ’bout youse Earthlings. Says the more garbage youse manufacturate, the heavier your world gets.”
“Oh, puhleeease—”
“One day, your whole lousy planet’s gonna flop down to the bottom of the universe. I always thought your inferior plaaanet should ship your trash to your moon—pockmarked ol’ rock ain’t good for nuthin’ else.”
I glared at him.
“Your plaaanet’s increased gravoovitational pull made ya bump our innocent planet.”
“We’re late. You just gonna sit there reading?”
“Hmmm. . .stoopid crosswords always get harder by the enda the week. Three down. ‘Normal,’ minus the L—a girls’ name. . . hey, Ig, what’s a—”
“Stop calling me ‘Ig.’” As I moved closer to the piano, the unidentified odor became  overpowering. Breathing through my mouth, I lifted the lid, and there were Gneeecey’s spare socks. “Here…they were inside your, uh, musical laundry hamper.”
“Yeah, okay, Ig. Thaaanks. They say, ‘A sock in the hand’s worth two in the piano.” Now, what’s a word for ‘normal’ wit’out the L—a girl’s name?” A chewed-up yellow pencil dangled from his lips.
“Can’t believe you’re sitting there doing a puzzle,” I hissed, crawling on all fours.
“I said, the clue here says it’s a five-lettered girl’s name!”
“Norma!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet. “It’s Norma! Now c’mon—”
“Nah, can’t be. . .hmmmm. . .yeah. . .Norma. . .that’s it—wait . . .it ain’t normal!”
“It’s not normal—it’s Norma.”
“It’s not normal,” he whined.
“It’s Norma.” I snatched the pencil out of his mouth, jammed one of his striped fresh health cigars in its place, and threw his briefcase into his lap.
“But it’s only normal to add letters, not take ’em away,” he protested, leaping out of his chair. “An’ besides, then eight across, a person who sells propooperty, wit’ a extra syllabooble, won’t fit!”
“What?!” I asked, as I dragged him into the hallway, by the neck of his T-shirt, wishing I had a choke collar and leash.
  “Realiltor—-then realiltor won’t fit!”
“For cryin’ out loud—”
“Wait, Ig—seven down—a five-lettered girl’s name wit’out a extra L added to its end, to make it the same as three down. . .I’ve got it. . .Norma!”

“C’mon, let’s go! We’re freakin’ late!”

SFX: [Magic Spell]
“Burt…Mary—I’m so sorry,” I whispered, as I gaped at their trashed bakery, still not believing what I saw. “Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do—I’m here for you.”
 “Thanks, Nicki.” Burt had aged a couple decades overnight.
 “The Ig here ain’t got time to be here for yooou—she gotta be there for meee!Meee!”
“As a matter of fact,” I added, ignoring Gneeecey, “we’ll be passing by after work, as usual, to pick up Flea. I’ll give you a hand then.”
Gneeecey’s eyeballs inflated like balloons. “Fleaglossitty’s here every day?”
“We appreciate that, Nicki,” replied Mary, as she swept up what had been Shisskey’s front window. SFX: [Glass Debris] “Last time we were hit, it was messy—y’know, whipped cream all over—but they didn’t destroy the place.”
“Yeah,” growled Burt, stepping over squashed strudels and crumbled cookies. “It’ll take us weeks to come back from this. We’re practically outta business.”

“Oh, looky—one of my cop friends! Hey, Mark, ya think it’s the same perpoopetrator?” asked Gneeecey, as he slobbered up one of the few items that hadn’t been stolen or smashed—his usual cherry-topped whipped cream concoction. SFX: [Dog Eating] “Din’cha say ya found some short black hairs in here—like laaast time?”
 The policeman adjusted his hat. “Yeah. Could be the same black-haired perpetrator.”
 “Maybe it’s Fleaglossitty,” suggested Gneeecey, gawking at Burt and Mary Shisskey like
 he was watching a movie. “Fleaglossitty has black hair, he loves whooped cream, an’ he’s always here.”
Mark rubbed his peeling amber chin. “Mrs. Shisskey, last time, the burglar left money on the counter, right?”
“Yes—we’ve told you over and over again, last time the burglar left two ten dollar bills.”
Gneeecey almost choked. “Twenny bucks—whadda chump!”
“But whoever did this left just a coupla dimes,” continued Mary, her red-rimmed eyelids narrowing. “Like we’ve been telling you for the past hour, whoever broke in before didn’t vandalize us—or take more than what he paid for.”
“Don’t catch an attitude wit’ me,” drawled Mark, leering at Mary as she bent over to whisk up a mashed corn muffin. “I didn’t rob youse. Maybe this was an inside job-—maybe business ain’t been so good lately—black hairs were planted to make it look like a burglary. . .an’ the dimes came from your register. I’m gonna take them coins in, along wit’ some of these here crumbs, an’ I’ll dust ’em for prints.”
 Burt marched over to Mark and poked him in the chest with a sturdy index finger. “Why don’cha go reread your notes? Then maybe you can stop asking us the same stupid questions and go catch whoever’s been doing this—like a real cop.”
 Sneering, Mark backed away. “Easy, Shisskey. Easy.”
 Burt pointed to what was left of his door. “Time for you to leave!”
The yellow-eyed, amber-skinned officer chuckled as he hopped over a pile of debris and out onto the sidewalk. “Oh, an’ Shisskey, your door’s broke. Have a nice day!”
Burt stood in the entranceway, veins popping out all over his neck.

SFX: [Magic Spell]
“Thanks for givin’ me a copy of the police report,” said Gneeecey, leaning out of his limo. “I’m savin’ this here Shisskey story for six o’clock—my evening ratings been saggin’. A real robbery—how cool!”
“Yeah,” replied Mark. “Cool.”
Gneeecey flopped back into his seat and turned to me. “Ya makin’ us late again.”
“Me?! We had to find your socks—”
“Why din’cha look in the piano right away?”
“Oh, c’mon. And we had to stand around while you stuffed your face and eavesdropped on the Shisskeys and your strange cop friend—”
“Don’t say ‘strange cop’!” he shouted, as he gulped down the gooey waxed paper that had covered his treat. “That was my best friend, Mark. Or Mark. Or Mark or Mark.”
“Burt and Mary are supposed to be your friends, but to you, it’s more important to use that police report that you’re—you’re eating—”
“Whaaaaat?” he asked, swallowing it.
“The police report!”
“Whaddaboudit?” 

“You just ate it!”
 “Look what’cha  stinkin’ made me dooo, ya Ig—ya made me eat the lousy police report!” 

“I made you do it?”
 “Ya distractipated me while I was eatin’ my wax paper!”
 “And what normal person—er…uh…canine-humanoid—eats wax paper?”
 “Oh, nooo—the police report!” Gneeecey exclaimed, gagging. “It’s awready gone too far down! My arm ain’t long enough!” He pulled his hairy elbow out of his esophagus.
I had to look away.

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Phones]
 “Now we’re gonna be reeeal late—havin’ to come all the way back ’cross town to headquarters for another copy of the lousy report that—”
 “That you ingested,” I snapped, moving away from the splintery wooden counter. “We’ve been here at the precinct waiting forty-five minutes. These cops are too busy eating to do any work.”
“Don’t pick on ’em—they’re Mark’s brothers. Can’cha see the resembooblance?”
“Yeah. I sure can.” I watched a dozen or so waxy-faced, uniformed officers ignore ringing phones SFX: [Phones Ringing] as they crammed cupcakes, turnovers, donuts and fancy whipped-cream concoctions like Gneeecey’s into their big traps. The single bulb that illuminated the dark-paneled office cast eerie shadows and made their supernatural complexions glow.
Gneeecey held out his grubby fur palms. “Heya, guys, got any extra?”
No one answered.
“Ig, maybe if yooou ask ’em, real nice, like—”
 “Haven’t you eaten enough today?”
 “Shisskey report,” boomed a black-haired officer, running his hand over his crew cut as he tossed a paper our way.
 “Thaaanks,” bleated Gneeecey, practically shoving me through the closed plate glass door.

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Car Engine] [Car Horns]
 “Duck!” Gneeecey shouted into the intercom, “Turn offa this lousy Boulevard—right here! Take The Back Way! We’re stinkin’ late!”
Culvert complied, instantly.
“An’ Ig, stop sayin’ them cops broke into Shisskey’s!”
“Well, stop saying it’s Flea! And I thought he was your best friend!”
Gneeecey poked his head outside as we crept down the exit ramp, underneath a green-and-white sign that read, “The Backway.”
Backed up for miles, this alternate route was a multi-colored mosaic of bumper-to-bumper metal. Drivers stood outside their vehicles, conversing.
“Duck—why’d ya stinkin’ pull onto this girdle-locked road?” 

“Quaaack! Jus’ followin’ orders,” quacked Culvert, shutting off the ignition. Gneeecey flung his door open and flew out sideways, like a batty wet hen.
 As I stepped out of the vehicle, my jaw dropped. The good diroctor had mounted the limo’s front end. Gyrating and gesticulating hysterically, he resembled a hood ornament having a seizure.
 Onlookers applauded.

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

F: Boy, Zig, ya really threw me under the bus there, didn’t ya? If we ever get outta all this, am I gonna get you! Possibly even before!

G: Heh, heh…heh, heh…. 

SFX: [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] ###