He Sawed His Violin in Half... On Stage | The Big Concert Disaster

“He Sawed the Violin in Half… On Stage 😳🎻 | The Big Concert Disaster,” Episode 247 🎻💥 What happens when “cutting-edge music” becomes… literal?
Welcome to one of the most chaotic, surreal, and side-splitting concerts in Perswayssick County history. In this wild episode of Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy, stranded Earthling Nicki Rodriguez battles snow, traffic, and total madness just to make it to a high-stakes performance at the Civic Center. But once she arrives… things spiral FAST. 👀 The audience is packed 👑 The mysterious Grand Oogitty Boogitty is watching 🎶 And Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey is about to redefine music forever… by SAWING A VIOLIN IN HALF. ON STAGE. 😳🎻 Meanwhile: 🐶 Fleaglossitty “Flea” Floppinsplodge (aka Sooperflea) goes full freestyle on piano—possibly in another timeline 🧺 Flubbubb turns a washer/dryer into a percussion instrument (yes, really) 💥 Bazookas, shoes, and symphonies collide in a completely unhinged performance 👽 The Markmen demand music… and chaos delivers .... By the time this “concert” ends, instruments are destroyed, reality is questionable, and the audience is somehow… giving a standing ovation. 👏😂 ✨ If you love: absurd comedy podcasts, sci-fi fantasy worlds, unpredictable storytelling, or musical disasters turned masterpieces… this episode is your next obsession. 🎧 Dive into the madness of Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy—where logic takes a coffee break and chaos runs the show. 👉 Hit play for a twisted blend of sci-fi, fantasy, dark comedy, and surreal adventure—perfect for fans of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and bizarre, story-driven audio fiction! 🎧 Listen now https://perswayssickradio.buzzsprout.com 🎧 We hope you enjoyed this week’s episode! Again, we thank Sam Leviatin for Gneeecey and Sooperflea’s lovely “voaline” and piano music, and 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. Artwork Created by Vicki Solá & ChatGPT #ComedyPodcast #AudioDrama #SciFiComedy #FantasyPodcast #WeirdFiction #IndiePodcast #DarkComedy #SurrealStorytelling #hitchhikersgalaxyfans #montypythonfans 

Transcript

Transcript / “He Sawed the Violin in Half… On Stage | The Big Concert Disaster,” – Episode 247, by Vicki Solá.

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

All content © 2026 Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy.

SFX: [Misgivings & Misfortune] [Car Engine] [Car Horns] [Screeching Brakes]

NICKI RODRIGUEZ:  Driving in the white crap proved to be no less hazardous than walking in it. Just a gentle tap on the brakes would send my Splodge veering sideways into the exhaust-blackened curb, or into the path of another skidding vehicle—usually an oncoming tractor-trailer, or a county bus filled with bug-eyed passengers. SFX: [Female Scream] [Male Screams]
 My journey to and from Schweinzimmer Broadcast Supplies—typically a ninety-minute round trip—had snowballed into a harrowing three-hour expedition.
 When, at long last, I turned into the Perswayssick Civic Center’s lot, there was nowhere, absolutely nowhere to park, except for an extra space reserved for, you guessed it, Gneeecey. And that space appeared to have been shoveled out with a teaspoon.
 Rather than waste time searching for a spot on gridlocked, one-way Oink Avenue, I pulled in beside Gneeecey’s little white Porsche. SFX: [Engine Off] [Car Door] [Auto Door]
 Schlepping two five-ton Schweinzimmer’s bags, I skated right past the theater’s rear entrance, distracted by the sight of something that appeared to be out of place—an idling brown Freak O’-
 Nature Foods tractor-trailer, half the length of a football field. SFX: [Car Engine] [Metal Door Open]
 Once inside, I walked smack into a bug-eyed Gneeecey. “Where were ya, ya lousy Ig?”
 “Where do you think?”

“Don’t get intelligent wit’ meee, Ig, ’specially not today! An’ where’s his holiness?” My bimbus-scratching boss looked up at the Grand Oogitty Boogitty’s vacant, gigantic golden throne. “An’ where’s stinkin’ Fleaglossitty?”
“Dunno,” I answered, dumping a sack of cables at donkey-humanoid Stu Pitt’s feet. “C’mon, Stu, we’d better get started.”
The intern plunged his dimpled mitts into a Krappy Korners Deli bag.  SFX: [Rustling Papers] “As soon as I finish dinner, Icky. Carpenter’s still fixing the stage.” 

“Oh, no you don’t,” I protested, dragging him away by an ear. We must’ve looked like quite the pair, on elbows and knees, running lines all over the place and shouting into mikes—me, garbed in whipped cream-splattered sneakers and jeans, topped with that bulky navy multi-zippered jacket, and Stu, swimming around in the ill-fitting tan polyester suit he’d worn to Cleve’s funeral.
 “Stinkin’ hurry up, youse two!” bellowed Gneeecey, chewing on the hand he’d just used for scratching, “or I’ll fire youse both!”
 Stu’s face went so scarlet, it blended in with his raccoon mask. I almost felt sorry for him. And Gneeecey looked just as petrified. I almost felt sorry for him, too. Almost.
The canine-humanoid did crack a slight grin when Flubbubb rolled his red Mierk-Flyer wagon,
heaped with purple rubber wallets, over to Flea’s piano.
The golden-furred canine-humanoid then percussionist dashed backstage SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking], reappearing, pushing a compact white washer/dryer-on-wheels, topped with a clear, thirty-gallon see-through trash bag, filled with shoes of all types.
“Ya can’t use thaaat!” yelled Gneeecey.
Whistling Shriekensobb’s screechy “Plight of the Goonafish,” Flubbubb parked his appliance next to Gneeecey’s violin.
“Nebberd-kinnezzard, an’ you know that means extra-never on our Planet Eccchs,” shouted Gneeecey, “did Zirbert Shriekensobb call for prepooperated percussion in none of his compoopositions!”
Folks already seated in the audience laughed nervously. SFX: [Audience Laughing]
Then, Gneeecey stomped onstage SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] waving his fists in Flubbubb’s flinching face. “An’ I know music inside-out! In medical school, I spent six stinkin’ semesters practicin’ colonoscopies on French horns!” SFX: [Audience Laughing]

As a shrugging, gum-chewing Flubbubb removed his sparkling new left-handed triangle from
 its red velvet case, Gneeecey spotted Altitude below. The mouse was decked out Markman-style, in a three-piece gray suit, accessorized by a flickering spider web-patterned necktie.
 “Heya, boss,” he called out, “whazzup?”
 Blinking faster than the rodent’s battery-powered tie, Gneeecey lost his footing and tumbled into the orchestra pit. SFX: [Cartoon Slip] [Slip & Fall] [Comedy Boing] [Audience Laughing]
 His bimbus blared loudly. SFX: [Duck Horn] 
 Amid the chuckles and chortles, Flea—whipped cream smeared all over his fuzzy snout—scuttled out from behind the stage’s glitzy violet curtain. As the superhero flopped over his piano bench SFX: [Wood Demolition Bang] and landed on his honking schnozz, SFX: [Duck Horn] [Audience Laughing]
 Gneeecey crawled out of the orchestra pit, squinted up at the floodlit balcony…and gulped. SFX: [Music, Horror]
 There sat his toga-clad, scepter-toting holiness, the Grand Oogitty Boogitty—garnished with a
 diamond-studded platinum crown and a sprig of parsley the size of a small sapling.
 Everyone oohed and aahed. SFX: [Audience Ooh & Aah]
 To me, his holiness, the grand Oogitty Boogitty looked like nothing more than a freakishly overgrown Idaho tuber. A potato, with a little bling.
 “Your Grand Celestial Hynesty,” squeaked Gneeecey, knees quaking, SFX: [Chattering Teeth],
 “We greet’cha most revooverently.”
 The whipped cream-intoxicated audience clapped itself silly SFX: [Audience Applause], but
 Planet Eccchs’s lumpy, multi-eyed spiritual leader remained expressionless.
 Gneeecey glared at gum-chewing Flubbubb, who’d just blown a baseball-sized bubble. “We will begin this momentical event by preforatin’ the works of our Planet Eccchs’s legendary composer, Zirbert Shriekensobb.”
 The Grand Oogitty Boogitty stared into space. Vacantly.
 Blond, big-nosed Mark and a couple dozen of his cronies began pounding their fists on the stage. SFX: [Door Knock] “Get to da lousy music awready!”
 “Yeah,” shouted Altitude, moving closer to the creepy waxy-faced aliens he was dressed like. “Get to da lousy music awready!”
 Gneeecey’s notes spilled to the floor. SFX: [Rustling Papers] “Your Royal Holiness, we, your humbooble servoovants, will now entertainerate your high, indisposable an’ excellent hiney—uh, highnesty—wit’ Zirbert Shriekensobb’s ‘The Three-Legged Waltz,’ which is also commonly known as “The Plight of the Goonafish”—y’know, them poor blue two-tailed fishes that ain’t got no heads?”
 His high, indisposable and excellent highnesty still stared into space. More vacantly than ever.
 The Markmen—and Altitude—stared at Gneeecey. Intently.
 His gaze fixed on the refrigerator-sized spud seated above in the balcony, atop the gold commode, Gneeecey slid in a puddle of his own sweat SFX: [Cartoon Slip] [Splash 5] [Slip & Fall] as he reached for his precious white electric Stradivopoulos violin. “Your Primeval Imperiality, we will now play this compooposition in Z-minor,” he continued, on his knees, making no effort to get up. “Okay, orkookestra—fartissimo!”
 SFX: [Bassoon Comedy] [Phartz] Someone in the wind section had passed gas. Rather loudly. SFX: [Audience Laughter]

“Oh, Zig!” exclaimed Flea.

“Shaaadup, Fleaglossitty—that wasn’t meee this time!” Unhinged, Gneeecey snatched up a workman’s saw that had accidentally been left onstage and positioned it over his violin, like a bow. Everyone gasped. SFX: [Audience Ooh & Aah]
 “It is cuttin’ edge music,” he proclaimed. “An’ a one an’ a two an’ a three an’ a three-an’-a-half’—”
 The blade made contact with his expensive instrument, sawing back and forth SFX: [Saw], popping the fiddle’s ill-tuned strings one by one, until there were none. SFX: [Cartoon Violin String]
 Oblivious, Flea banged his white baby grand’s ivories faster and faster SFX: [Piano], playing miles ahead of the music, even improvising on future passages.
 Poised to strike his one sixteenth-note, Flubbubb stood frozen, golden triangle suspended in midair.
 Concert master Zlonkhammer Zlannker leapt up, and the entire Perswayssick Civic orchestra fell silent. “Diroctor!” shouted the distinguished, white-haired human, “You’re—you’re—”
 “Shaaaddup, Zlannker,” barked Gneeecey. “You’re jus’ jealous!”
 Finally realizing something was amiss, the vamping superhero swiveled around. “Zig!”
“Not now, Fleaglossitty—can’cha stinkin’ see I’m stinkin’ playin’?!”
“Diroctor,” I pleaded from below, “stop—”
“Shaaaaaaaaddup, Ig!” ordered, as he sliced his Stradivopoulos in half. SFX: [Saw] It’s severed lower belly—chin rest, bridge, and all—clunked to the floorboards SFX: [Wood Demolition Bang], raising a storm of white dust. The fingerboard and upper
portion slipped out of his left hand and smashed to the floor. SFX: [Wood Demolition Bang]
The two wooden chunks—weedy shoots of string still attached—bounced, step by step, into the orchestra pit SFX: [HumanFallDownstairs] [Wood Demolition Bang], sounding forth more melodically—and more rhythmically—than ever before.
Everyone gaped, stupefied.
The Grand Oogitty Boogitty appeared to be reading the Sunday comics.
“Gimme dat!” Gneeecey yanked the violin right out from under Zlannker’s chin.
The concert master jumped to his polished black shoes. “You—you can’t just—just—”
Gneeecey examined Zlannker’s red-toned instrument in the footlights’ warm glow. “Ain’t electronikookally ampooplificated, but if I play hard enough, I know I can make these goonafish gut strings scream!”
Face flushed, Zlannker marched out of the orchestra pit. SFX: [Footsteps Cement]
And Gneeecey threw the violinist’s music in the kazoo master’s round face. SFX: [Rustling Papers] “Here—yooou stinkin’ take over!”
“Excuse me,” protested the young red-faced human, “but I have no idea what—”
“Jus’ dooo it—if ya wanna keep your lousy job! Now, lemme stinkin’ test this voaline out!”
“Okay, your proverbial primate,” squawked Gneeecey, addressing the Grand Oogitty Boogitty and clutching what was left of Zlannker’s fiddle. “We hope ya enjoy Shriekensobb’s ‘Bozovian Rhapoopsody’ in E flat-sharp. He wrote it for Harpoopsichord, tympoopani, an’ cello, but we took the libooberty of substitutin’ a piano, jackhammer, an’ voaline. Ol’ Zirbert won’t mind—he’s dead!” SFX: [Cacophony] [Cello] [Voaline] [Jackhammer] [Blue Danube Silly Kazoo] [Applause] [Crowd Ooh & Aah]
After three hours, the Grand Ooggitty Booggitty still sat, devoid of expression. His giant sprig of parsley had wilted.
“Okay, your high muck-a-muck,” continued Gneeecey, “we will now present your gracelessness wit’ our final number. We’re endin’ wit’ a real bang—Shriekensobb’s ‘Suite for Artillery!’”
He positioned Zlannker’s violin underneath his fur chin. On the count of three-and-a-half, a lopsided military march—written for Planet Eccchs’s Bozovian region’s legendary three-legged infantry—limped off the stage, staccato sharps blasting into the air like torpedoes, shooting down short-lived, off-beat flats.
SFX: [Big Bang Theory] [Bizarre Screeching Drone] [Voaline] [[Cello] [Violin Screech] [Gun Anti-tank] The more dissonant the piece became, the more it wowed the crowd. After a sweat-dripping Gneeecey produced a particularly grating screech, the audience delivered a standing ovation. SFX: [Audience Applause]
Spurred on, Gneeecey played Zlannker’s bundle of splinters—held together by a single string—louder and harder. After he completed his caterwauling cadenza, he cued the bazookas. And watched, helplessness etched on his face, as Flubbubb rolled his washer/dryer center stage.
Cracking his gum, the percussionist set his appliance’s wash cycle on “gentle,” opened the lid and dropped in a pair of oxfords SFX: [Splash 5] [Washing Machine], creating a driving, multi-layered syncopation, when coupled with the rapidly firing weapons.
Flea’s runaway piano sounded jazzy. Flubbubb peeked at his music, picked three pairs of stilettos out of his bag, and threw them in the washer. SFX: [Splash 5] 

Gneeecey’s face matched the violet curtains behind him.
 Grinning, Flubbubb switched his dial from “Wash” to “Dry,” selected a heavy-duty cotton cycle, and plopped in two pairs of loafers.
 Boonka, boonka, boonkitty-boonk—boonk—boonka, boonka, boonkitty-boonk—boonk-boonk—knocked the shoes, in tandem with the bazookas’ fiery pow, pow, pow.
 An ear-splitting end-of-cycle signal buzzed, just as the rockets blew a hole through the theater’s sparkling indigo dome SFX: [Gun Anti-Tank] [Explosion] [Glass Shatter], exposing almost-blue skies above.
 It was all over. except for the wild cheering.
 “Flubbubb! Flubbubb!” chanted the crowd.
 The newly popular percussionist raced over to his wagon and began to toss those coveted purple holiday rubber wallets out into the audience—concentrating his efforts on an attractive group of female golden retriever types.

Meanwhile, Saint Bogelthorpe’s bells tolled in the distance. SFX: [Church Bells] Time to cut out. Heart fluttering, I rose.
 As I made my way toward the backstage entrance, Gneeecey scooted his bimbus across the entire length of the stage, just like a mutt with an itchy butt.

SFX: [Audience Laughter] [Magic Spell]

We hope you enjoyed this week’s episode! Again, we thank Sam Leviatin for Gneeecey and Sooperflea’s lovely “voaline” and piano music, and 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 morning! Please make sure to tell a friend! And keep on laughing! 

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