We Escaped...Without Gneeecey!

“We Escaped…Without Gneeecey!”💥- Episode 255

🔥💥 EXECUTION DAY... OR ESCAPE DAY? 💥🔥

Nicki Rodriguez, Cleve Wheeler, and Diroctor Bizzig "Zig" Gneeecey are marched toward what appears to be certain death at the hands of the ruthless Markmen. But the moment a careless cigarette ignites, everything changes in an instant—and not because of the cigarette! 

💥 Massive explosions rock the facility.
 🔥 Fires spread through the corridors.
 🏃 Nicki, Cleve, and Sooperflea make a desperate escape.
 👀 Strange floating eyeballs haunt the smoke-filled hallways.
 🚁 Stu Pitt takes an unauthorized helicopter flight.
 😱 And one very important friend gets left behind...

As chaos consumes the old Mierkolatory, Nicki finally learns the truth: Cleve Wheeler is alive! But escaping the refinery may be only the beginning. With Markmen everywhere, unstable accelerants igniting around them, and Gneeecey missing, the gang faces an impossible choice.

Will they make it out alive?
 Can they, will they, rescue Gneeecey?
And what secrets lie hidden beneath the refinery?

Find out in another wild chapter of Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy! 🎧Listen here: https://perswayssickradio.buzzsprout.com and on Spotify, Amazon Music, Apple Podcasts, TuneIn, and more🎧

🎙️ Perswayssick Radio combines comedy, science fiction, fantasy, action, mystery, and interdimensional adventure into a hilarious audio drama unlike anything you've ever heard.

⭐ Perfect for fans of:
 • The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
 • Sci-Fi Comedy
 • Audio Dramas
 • Alien Adventures
 • Absurdist Humor
 • Serialized Fiction Podcasts
 • Fantasy Comedy
 • Character-Driven Adventures

🔔 Subscribe and join thousands of listeners worldwide following Nicki, Gneeecey, Sooperflea, Cleve Wheeler, and the unforgettable residents of Perswayssick County! 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, featuring Gneeecey, based on Vicki Solá’s illustration, and Nicki Rodriguez, based on Jay Hudson’s illustration.

#AudioDrama #SciFiComedy #ComedyPodcast #AudioFiction #ScienceFiction #FantasyPodcast #PerswayssickRadio #AlienAdventure #StoryPodcast #FictionPodcast #ComedySeries #AdventurePodcast #HitchhikersGuideStyle #IndependentPodcast #SerializedFiction

Transcript

Transcript / “We Escaped…Without Gneeecey!” - Episode 255, 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: [Horror Scary Moment]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ:  In our last episode, we find out that Nicki’s friend Cleve Wheeler is still alive—he’d been kidnapped and kept hostage in the old Mierkolatory. Now, the evil, alien Markmen are preparing to march a numb Nicki, the terrified canine-humanoid Gneeecey, and a defiant Cleve out back, to be executed….

“Okay, everyone, it’s time,” announced brown-haired Mark, loading his assault rifle. “Youse three—go line up by that door there. An’ don’t try no heroics.”

As Cleve hopped ahead of me, he snapped his left foot up over his right and freed it in a single motion. They didn’t notice. Then he loosened the gag from his mouth and let it drop.
 Blond big-nosed Mark whirled around and took aim. “Watch it, Wheeler—I’ll plug ya right between your eyes right now, an’ blow off her head—wit’ one shot.”
Cleve’s jaw tightened.
The dark-haired Markman strolled over to Gneeecey and stepped down on the trembling white-and-black canine-humanoid’s tail. Hard.
“Oooooooow!”
“I said, line up by the lousy door.”
Urine-logged sneakers squishing SFX: [Feet], Gneeecey tiptoed past Cleve and me, and fell into line.
My precious navy zippered jacket still clenched under his arm, the redheaded creep pulled a dilapidated pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “C’mon—let’s take them three alien ergzaps outside. I’m dyin’ for a smoke.”
Blond, big-nosed Mark nodded. “Me too. Y’know, the boss is too freakin’ paranoid about us
smokin’ inside here.”
“Bob does take it a little too far,” agreed the senior Markman. “I mean, yeah, this is a miercoles refinery an’ all, but our fire ain’t like ergzap fire—it can’t hurt nuthin’—except them ergzaps.”
 “Y’know, as usual, I ain’t waitin’ till we’re outside.” Laughing, red-haired Mark stuffed a half-smoked butt into his blubbery kisser and lit it up with one of those strange, translucent, flame-filled poles. SFX: [Fire] “We awready know, it don’t hurt nuthin’, us smokin’ inside. If it did, every time we lit up, hah, hah, this whole crummy place would—”
SFX: [Explosions] A brick-shattering blast cut him off mid-sentence, rocking the whole place to its foundations. 

SFX: [Music Logo Big Band] [Cinematic Boom A] [Music, Logo, Industry] [Fire] [Explosions] [Footsteps Cement] [CrashMetal]

The three Markmen’s eyeballs bulged out of their wig-topped noggins.
 “Fire!” warned a sandy-haired young gray-suit, sprinting past our door. SFX: [Footsteps Cement]

“Fire!” shouted Sooperflea, as he galloped down the hall, his scarlet cape ablaze. A braying donkey-humanoid SFX: [Donkey] Stu Pitt flew after him. Flames consumed the seat of his too-short khakis. SFX: [Fire]
 Cleve and I dashed past our captors. SFX: [Footsteps Cement] As we raced for the door, he snatched my coat up off the floor and tossed it into my hands, like a quarterback throwing a lateral pass.
 Frayed cord still attached to his right ankle, he caught up with Flea, dropped him to the ground SFX: [Bodyfall Human]’ and extinguished the polyester-fed blaze.
 The superhero just gawked.
 I stood nearby, whacking Stu’s charred posterior. SFX: [Body Slap]
 “Thanks, Icky!” 

“It’s okay, Stuart. you’d do the same for me—uh, I—I mean—”
 “Guess what, Icky?”
 “What? And, uh, that’s Nicki—”
“I jus’ flew our GAS -TV Chopper Three-an’-a-half! Our wonderful boss Diroctor Gneeecey wasn’t around to say no, an’ bein’ it was an emergency an’ all—”
“Follow me!” shouted Cleve, as the hallway filled with black smoke and expletive-spouting Markmen.
I pulled my jacket on and took off. “C’mon, Stuart!”
“Ergzaps crashed a copter into the joint!” yelled a Markman.
“There’s one!” hollered another. “Get her!”
Running hard SFX: [Running], I glanced over my shoulder and caught sight of Flea. They were on the red-caped black canine-humanoid’s tail, literally.
“Hey, mister know-it-all,” taunted blond Mark, “your crystal ball tell ya what we’re gonna do wit’cha when we catch ya?”
Before the furry superhero could come back with a witty retort, he stumbled sideways into a wall lined with missile-shaped canisters labeled, “Warning: Unstable Accelerant.”
The silver cylinders fell like dominoes, cracking open and releasing vapors that reeked like rotten eggs laced with ammonia. SFX: [Metal Crash] [Barbecue Sizzle]
Meanwhile, the Markmen began to scatter as thready trails of mierk ignited and set off random explosions. SFX: [Fire] [Explosions]
The naturally clumsy Flea was still down. I tore toward him. SFX: [Footsteps Cement] “C’mon, Flea—when these fumes reach those flames, we’re goners!”
I snatched him up off the floor, pulled my turtleneck over my nose and peered through the haze. Didn’t see any signs of Cleve or Stu. But I did spy a fresh group of Markmen, in the distance, barking orders at each other. SFX: [Footsteps Cement]
Flea in my arms, I lunged forward, then stopped dead in my tracks when, from out of nowhere, a tow-headed Markman, his jacket burning SFX: [Fire], ran straight at me.
As he clutched at my throat, he popped like a balloon SFX: [TwistPopScrunchBalloon] [Rubber Snap]. His smoldering clothes and hairpiece landed in a heap at my feet, and his lime green eyeballs and haunting howl floated up toward the ceiling. SFX: [Creature Scream] “Y’know, Nicki,” began Flea, face hidden in my jacket, “I think my psychic powers are returnin’.”
“Oh?”
“I’m pretty sure I was contacted by a dead person.”
“Huh?”
“Cleve. He helped me when I was on fire. I heard spirits can do stuff like that.”
“Cleve’s alive, Flea,” I replied, laughing and sobbing. “These creeps had him the whole time.”
“Holy Saint Bogelthorpe!” exclaimed the superhero, climbing down.
The two of us scuttled up the fire-lit corridor, littered with empty gray suits and shined oxfords. SFX: [Footsteps Cement]
Cleve stuck his head out through a slot in the blackened bricks. “In here!”
I pushed Flea through the pinched aperture, slid in, then stopped short.
“C’mon,” whispered Cleve.
Slinking back with dread, I studied the stone staircase ahead. It led into a tunnel.
“It’s our only chance,” said Flea. A herd of Markmen stampeded past us, on the other side of the wall. SFX: [Footsteps Cement] [Guns] I couldn’t tell whether they were shooting or popping.
I gritted my teeth and took Cleve’s hand. Flea unclipped his flashlight from his belt SFX: [Metal Click 4] and the three of us flew down the steps. SFX: [HumanSteps] [Horror Scary Moment]
Once through the gloomy passageway, we found ourselves inside a cave-like room. A single shaft of sunlight streamed in through a fissure, illuminating a banjo-eyed Stu.
“Stu, you alright?” asked Cleve.
“Eeeeeeeeks!” screamed the intern.
Cleve sighed. “For the last time, Stu, I am not dead.”
“But I’m so used to you being dead!”
 “Well, sorry to disappoint you.”
 “Cleve’s alive,” I proclaimed, riffling through my jacket’s pockets and pouches.
 Cleve nodded. “Undead.”
 Stu turned whiter than a sheet. One with freckles. “You’re a zombie?”
“He’s un-unalive,” explained Flea, as he positioned his flashlight up on a slanted ledge, to provide more light. “Y’know, as opposed to bein’ undead.”
“Oh,” replied the dorky donkey-humanoid, wiping beads of perspiration from his furrowed brow. “Why din’cha say so?”
“And I’m still waiting for Seemingwhale’s to deliver my new living room set,” said Cleve, “so please, everyone, just cop a squat. We’ll order out.”
Smiling for the first time in a couple of weeks, I lowered myself down onto the damp dirt floor and drew in a deep breath of musty air.
Cleve’s twinkling eyes met mine. “Uh, Nicki, there’s a sneaker imprint on your chin. A long, skinny one.”
I rubbed my jaw with the back of my hand.
He squeezed his arm around my shoulders. “Your coat’s stuffed.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Everything still there?”
“I think so.”
“You were leaving, weren’t you?”
I leaned my head against his chest.
“Ahem!” whinnied Stu, shifting from foot to foot.
Cleve and I looked up.
“Uh, guys, where’s the boss?”
Cleve groaned. “Gneeecey. we gotta go back…for Gneeecey.”

SFX: [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Magic Spell]