Marked & Bobbed: Interrogation One

May12, 2026, “Marked & Bobbed: Interrogation One” - Episode 249

🚨 CAPTURED BY THE MARKMEN! 🚨

In this darkly hilarious sci-fi comedy podcast episode of Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy, kidnapped Earthling Nicki Rodriguez and the outrageous canine-humanoid Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey find themselves trapped deep beneath the notorious Mierkolatory… the horrifying mierk processing factory run by the sinister alien Markmen. 👽⚠️

Inside “Interrogation One,” things spiral into chaos as glowing computers, living mierk sludge, alien gangsters, and terrifying Earth coordinates collide in one of Perswayssick County’s creepiest adventures yet. 😱🛸

The ruthless Markmen want answers.
 Bob wants results.
 And Gneeecey may have just doomed everybody. 💀

Will Nicki and Gneeecey survive the interrogation?
 What secret do the Markmen want from Earth?
 And what exactly IS “zogulating”? 🤢

🎧 If you love:
 ✅ Comedy sci-fi podcasts
 ✅ Audio drama adventures
 ✅ Surreal alien worlds
 ✅ Dark comedy humor
 ✅ Retro radio theater vibes
 ✅ Dimension travel stories
 ✅ Quirky fantasy comedy
 ✅ Hitchhiker’s Guide-style absurdity

…then welcome back to Perswayssick County, 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! 🎧 Listen now https://perswayssickradio.buzzsprout.com 🎧 perfect for fans of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and bizarre, story-driven audio fiction!

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. Artwork Created by ChatGPT, with Gneeecey by Vicki Solá

#ComedyPodcast #SciFiPodcast #AudioDrama #FantasyComedy #AlienInvasion #DarkComedy #SurrealComedy #IndiePodcast #RetroSciFi #ComedySciFi #AudioTheater #PerswayssickRadio #SciFiComedy #DimensionTravel #WeirdFiction

Transcript

Transcript / “Marked & Bobbed: Interrogation One” - Episode 249, 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]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: Our last episode left kidnapped Earthling Nicki Rodriguez and her zany canine-humanoid companion Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey trapped, in the slimy clutches of the evil alien Markmen and their sadistic leader Bob. The two find themselves imprisoned inside the creepy basement of Perswayssick County’s notorious mierk processing factory, simply known as the Mierkolatory.

SFX: [Scary Background II]

Bob crossed his arms. “Take ’em away—throw ’em in Interrogation One.”
 The blond Markman grinned. “Wit’ pleasure, boss.”
 Gneeecey fell to his knees. “Can’t stay—gotta catch up wit’ his eviscerated holiness, before he stinkin’ blasts back into outer space for a whole ’nother stinkin’ year!”
Bob yawned.
“Pleeeeeease, Bob—It’s a matter of life an’ deaf!”
Bob snapped his fingers. SFX: [Finger Snaps]
The Markman jabbed his pistol into my back. [Metal Click 4] “Yeah, boss?”
“Don’t waste my time till one of ’em talks.”

SFX: [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Eerie Sharp Scary Logo] [Horror Scary Moment]

NICKI RODRIGUEZ: 

SFX: [Metal Click 4]

“Stop pokin’ me wit’ that gun,” whined Gneeecey. “You’re hurtin’ meee!”

“Shaaadup or I will hurt ya,” warned redheaded, broken-nosed Mark, as he shoved him through the basement, past rows of beige cubicles. SFX: [Footsteps Concrete]
Each station contained an illuminated desk—a crystalline octahedron whose edges reflected all the hues of the rainbow, and then some. SFX: [Magic Glitter]
Sleek silver keyboards, connected to gigantic, paper-thin, wall-mounted monitors, sparkled above the pulsating desktops.
“I see youse upgraded your headquarters,” bleated Gneeecey.
SFX: [Metal Click 4]The Markman smashed the side of his revolver against the good diroctor’s head.
“Oooooooow!”
“I said shaaaddup!”
Sick to my stomach, I trudged along behind them, blond, big-nosed Mark’s firearm digging into my right kidney. Studying the highly flammable mierk-dripping barrels that lined the walls, I stumbled. Piled twenty-high, they reached all the way up to the painted-over, umber windows. The blond Markman spun me around. “Ergzap, I awready tol’ ya, don’t try nuthin’!”
“Ergzap? What’s—”
“Inferior alien,” he explained, regarding me with contempt.
I gazed down at my left sneaker, stuck in a mound of mierk. “My shoe just came off!”
“Ya won’t need it,” growled the Markman, pushing me up some stairs SFX: [HumanWalkUpstairs] and past an open entryway, wide enough to accommodate a commercial jetliner. Frigid air rushed in through the sun-filled gap. SFX: [Wind, Scary] Squinting, I slowed down.
“Don’t even think about it,” advised yellow-haired Mark, reading my mind. “Joint’s crawlin’ wit’ guards—they been trained to shoot first an’ ask later.”
My shoeless heel hit something sharp. “Ow!”
Laughing, the Markman dragged me down some steps SFX: [HumanWalkDownstairs] and hurled me through the steel-framed doorway of a room labeled “Interrogation One.”
A split second later, Gneeecey whizzed past my cheek like a white-and-black, fur-covered spitball. SFX: [Cartoon Slip]
“Siddown—both of youse!” ordered red-haired Mark, waving his weapon in the direction of two incandescent, scooped-out spheres.
Reluctantly, I sat.
Gneeecey lowered himself slowly, then flew up into the air. “Chair’s burnin’ up my bimbus!”
“Siddown!” bellowed the redhead, flashing his gun.

SFX: [Metal Click 4]
 Spooked by squishy footsteps coming up from behind, SFX: [Mud Splash] [Scary Ambience]
 I sprang out of my butt-broiling seat.
 “Easy,” cautioned blond Mark, slamming me back down. SFX: [BodyFallHuman] As I turned my head, a pair of sickly-yellow, disembodied eyeballs floated toward me. Lumpy, raised red vessels circled their shiny whites.
 My mouth opened wide.
 The ovals glowed and glimmered and dipped down low, intrigued as a glob of brown, rubbery mierk took on a life of its own, rising up from the filthy concrete and stretching itself into a taut membrane.
 Gradually, the force made itself visible as a pair of amber-tinged hands, slathering and caressing more muck, building the eyes a head to live in. And a face. A waxy face, wearing an expression made malicious by its slanted, sardonic smile.
 The hands grew arms. Muscular, chiseled arms. And legs. And an unclothed body that, pleased with having created itself, strode into the middle of the room, calling out, “Hey, Mark, whazzup?”
 “Not much, Mark,” replied the blond. “Whazzup wit’choo?”
 “Nuthin’—jus’ gotta go get my hair an’ stuff outta my locker.” He grinned at the redhead. “An’ mark, how you doin’?”
“Good. An’ I’ll be even better when these ergzaps talk.”
The undressed Markman resumed covering himself with goop.
“He’s jus’ zogulatin’,” Gneeecey informed me.
“Gotta go zogulate, myself,” said blond Mark, examining his flaky fingers. “I’m peelin’.”
“Me too,” snarled the redhead, his sewage-colored irises fixed on Gneeecey. “I tried that crummy zodd they’re gonna replace mierk wit’—it don’t even seal our internal organs. All thanks to you, Doc Gneeecey.”
Gneeecey gulped.
Blond Mark glanced at his watch. “If I don’t go zogulate soon, my lunch’ll end up in my shoes again.”

“Don’t make me puke,” responded the undressed Markman, admiring his flexed biceps.

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Horror, Scary Moment]

“What’s the code?” demanded young, raven-haired Mark, as he booted up Interrogation One’s computer. SFX: [Computer Keyboard] “Y’know, for them coordinates?”
 The wall-sized screen fired up, illuminating the room.
 “I already told you people,” I insisted, “I have aboobsolutely—ugh—absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s not what’cha friend here says,” he said, sizing me up with merciless ocher eyes.
Gneeecey shrugged sheepishly as he shifted like mad in his hundred-watt seat.
“And what,” I began, staring at Gneeecey, unable to control the tremble in my voice, “did my friend tell you?”
“That you got the code for the coordinates.”
 “Coordinates?”
“Don’t play stupid wit’ me—the coordinates on that planet of yours. Earth.”
I stared up at the sooty ceiling.
“Your friend here says only you can decipher the code.” The Markman loosened his blinking spider web-patterned tie. He wore civvies, but his thin-lipped smirk gave him away—he was the motorcycle cop who had planted that parking ticket on my windshield, on Northwestern Southeast Stummix Lane Loop, the day I cashed my first paycheck.
 The Markman pounded his fist on the desktop. SFX: [Wood Demolition Bang] “I asked you a question—an’ I expect an answer!”
 I just looked at him.
 He tapped his black oxford impatiently. “Well then, you decide.”
“Decide what?”’
“Whether you’re gonna walk outta here, or be taken out—y’know, horizontal.”
“I—I don’t—”
Without warning, my muscle-bound inquisitor leaped up, sucked in his abs, and raised his right hand in a stiff salute.
“Ogblorg!” snapped a faceless, gray-suited being, blue eyes blazing in nothingness above his white collar.
“Ogblorg, sir,” barked our Markman, standing straight as an arrow.
“They softenin’ up yet?” inquired the headless entity, as he rolled a brown lump between two handless cuffs.
The young Markman cleared his throat. “Uh, not yet, sir.”
“Pleeeeaze, Bob,” begged Gneeecey, “lemmee go!”
Bob’s pitiless pupils remained fixed on his subordinate. “Ya like bein’ off the streets, workin’ on the inside, don’cha?”
“Yes, sir,” answered our Markman, scrutinizing us through narrowed lids. “Guess I’ll hafta start playin’ rough.”
“Do what you have to. Blork!”
“Blork, sir!”

SFX: [Footsteps, Concrete]
 “I think I can handle this,” protested our Markman.
 “That’s not what the boss thinks,” replied tall, brown-haired Mark, as he motioned the rookie to make way.
 “But he jus’ said—”
 “Bob wants results now, not some other day.”
Grinding his perfect pearly whites, the young Markman rose.
Brown-haired Mark plunked himself down behind the keyboard and rolled up his sleeves. SFX: [Computer Keyboard] “Okay, Doc—”

“That’s Diroctor—I’m a doctor an’ director of this here lousy county—”

“Shaaadup, Doc! Now, ya lost the election after ya guaranteed it would go our way—”
“Nuthin’s really lost,” squeaked Gneeecey. “Youse guys’ll find everythin’ ya need on her planet! I’ll stake her life on it!”
I bolted upright. “Now, you just wait a minute—”
Teeth bared, the younger Markman walloped my face with his meaty palm. SFX: [Body Slap]
“Ya been hustlin’ us,” continued the senior Markman, ignoring me as I sat stunned. “Playin’ us for fools.”
“No!” insisted Gneeecey. “Nuthin’ in life’s for sure—everything’s fifty-fifty! I learned that in my News Guessin’ Seminars! So, we’d either win the election, or we wouldn’t—”
“That ain’t wha’cha was tellin’ us the whole time—”
 “I mean,” spluttered Gneeecey, biting his knuckles, “You know—”
 “Don’t eat your hand like that, Doc. Ya gonna need it to reach in your pocket an’ return our deposit—all fifty-quadrillion bucks.”
 “An’ thirty-seven cents!” shouted the younger man, wielding a translucent, flame-filled pole.
Gneeecey recoiled. “Not the one wit’ the red handle!”
“Won’t hurt me.” 

“Stink’ noooo—”

The Markman’s dead eyes came alive as he poked Gneeecey’s left ear with the rod. SFX: [Fire]
 “Stinkin’ ooooooow!”  

“Hey—how dare you? Diroctor—are you alright?”

“You siddown, miss—ain’t nobody asked for your input!”

SFX: [Body Slap] [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [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 morning! Please make sure to tell a friend! And keep on laughing! 

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