Holiday Replay: Grimace Holiday Ghost

🎄👻 Merry Grimace… or else! 👻🎄

The holidays arrive in Perswayssick County, and nothing says festive cheer like betrayal, blackmail, clogged high-tech toilets, and a ghostly reckoning!

In this classic chapter of Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy, stranded Earthling Nicki Rodriguez and canine-humanoid superhero Sooperflea find themselves thrown out into the cold—literally—after Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey becomes convinced they’ve betrayed him. With Grimace (the Perswayssick equivalent of Christmas) in full swing, friendships fracture, violet tinsel sparkles, and glitter-sprayed dead rubber chickens line the streets. 🎄✨🐔

Meanwhile, a bitter, lonely Gneeecey retreats to his GAS Broadcast Network headquarters, where a disastrous on-air interview spirals into humiliation, therapy chaos, and existential despair. As holiday sadness sets in, Gneeecey is confronted by something far more terrifying than blackmail or bad press…

👻 A ghost who claims to be a mirror of his own behavior. 👻 A Grimace Holiday Ghost! 👻

Equal parts comedy, sci-fi, fantasy, satire, and surreal holiday special, this episode blends absurd humor with heartfelt emotion, sharp dialogue, and a not-so-gentle reminder that we don’t always appreciate what we have until it haunts us.

🎙️ If you love audio dramas, quirky holiday stories, talking dogs, parallel dimensions, and laugh-out-loud sci-fi fantasy comedy, this is a must-listen! 🔔 Subscribe, like, and share if you love:
 #ComedyPodcast #AudioDrama #SciFiComedy #FantasyPodcast #HolidaySpecial #ChristmasPodcast #WeirdFiction #IndiePodcast #DarkComedy #SurrealStorytelling #hitchhikersgalaxyfans #montypythonfans #RickandMorty 💥 🎧 LISTEN NOW & CELEBRATE GRIMACE! https://perswayssickradio.buzzsprout.com 🎧

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

Transcript

Transcript / Holiday Replay: Grimace Holiday Ghost  – Episode 228, by Vicki Solá. 

All content © 2025 Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy. 

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Christmas Street]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: Hey there, it’s me, Vicki, my breath literally taken away by the tons of purple glitter-sprayed dead rubber chickens and other lovely seasonal ornamentation smothering—um—festooning Perswayssick City’s main drag, Murgatroyd Avenue, as frenzied shoppers gear up for their annual Grimace holiday season. And, as threatened, to celebrate, we’re serving you up a festive lineup of our own beloved holiday classic episodes! And—mark your calendars—our brand-new season launches on January 6th, 2026. In the immortal words of Diroctor Gneeecey himself… “Greason’s Seetings, everyone!” Now, to get you in that holiday spirit….

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Sad Strings]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: In last week’s episode, “Gobsmacked,” stranded Earthling Nicki Rodriguez and her canine-humanoid companions Sooperflea, otherwise known as “Flea” Fleaglossitty Floppinsplodge, and his pal Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey were just that—gobsmacked. A hurt, furious Gneeecey threw Nicki and Sooperflea and all of their belongings out into the street—right before Perswayssick County’s major, most festive holiday, Grimace, the equivalent of Christmas here on Earth. 

Perswayssick County’s leader, Grate Gizzygalumpaggis Gneeecey, had just received a third secret recording of highly embarrassing moments captured in his home and during his therapy sessions with Doctor Idnas and Grandma, plus a private conversation he and Nicki had while imprisoned on Planet HyenaZitania. The anonymous sender is threatening to air these recordings on Gneeecey’s own GAS Broadcast Network. 

All evidence points to Nicki, and Gneeecey’s best friend from childhood, Sooperflea. They’ve been living in Gneeecey’s mansion. Nicki’s been present at all of Gneeecey’s therapy sessions, plus she has access to his GAS Broadcast Network, as she works there. Well, make that “worked” there. When Gneeecey threw her out, he fired her from her position there and her part-time gig at his Gneeezle’s Restaurant. 

Although Gneeecey is often, well, difficult, the three had considered themselves to be family. Devastated, Nicki and Flea maintain that they could never ever hurt Gneeecey. They’re astounded that Gneeecey could ever accuse them of betraying him…until a certain recollection suddenly surfaces via the superhero’s ESP powers.

Nicki and Flea decide to take a walk to clear their minds and try to figure things out….

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Christmas, Street]

NICKI RODRIGUEZ: Oh, Flea, I can’t believe this is happening—it’s like a nightmare!

SOOPERFLEA, AKA FLEA, AKA FLEAGLOSSITTY FLOPPINSPLODGE: Nicki, it’s not like a nightmare—it is a nightmare! A huge one! To think that my high-tech transmittin’ an’ receivin’ device, which I accidentally dropped into that big handbag of yours an’ forgot about…it discovered an’ paired up wit’ that high-tech watch I’d also given ya when ya first arrived here in Perswayssick County. An’ then that signal was hacked by whoever’s fixin’ to blackmail Zig…. Holy Saint Bogelthorpe….

N: Gneeecey was right. You and I are to blame. But not the way he thinks.

F: Yep, you an’ I are responsible for these recordings—technically—but we had no idea that anything like that was happenin’. No idea whatsoever!  

N: He’ll never forgive us, even if we try to explain. 

F: Which you an’ I are gonna have to get up the courage to do, Nicki.

N: Yeah, Flea. Y’know, I’m so glad you suggested that we take this walk around the city. The cold, fresh air is doing me good.

F: Perswayssick City is beautiful during the holidays! Y’know, wit’ sparklin’ violet tinsel an’ glitter-sprayed dead rubber chickens hangin’ everywhere! 

N: And the atmosphere—well, not the glitter-sprayed dead rubber chickens—but the music reminds me so much of Christmastime back on my planet. How I miss my planet….

F: An’ how I miss Zig, an’ all of us bein’ together, especially durin’ the holidays…. SFX: [Cartoon Character Annoyed Crying] Oh…I’m so sorry, Nicki….

N: It’s okay, Flea. I understand. I’ve always thought of myself as being a strong person, but I feel like crying myself. I even miss Gneeecey calling me “Ig.”

F: Here we are, Veggie Burger Avenue. Home. Home for the time bein’, anyways…. Back upstairs to my little efficiency apartment…. Let’s have a snack an’ watch TV

SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] [Door Open] [Magic Spell]

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: Meanwhile, across town, on Edgar Vompt Boulevard, near Gneeecey’s GAS BROADCAST NETWORK headquarters….

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Christmas, Street]

DIROCTOR BIZZIG “ZIG” GNEEECEY:  Thanks for droppin’ me off, Altitude. I’ll walk the rest of the way. I need to clear my dopey mind. My buildin’ is jus’ a couple of blocks away. 

ALTITUDE THE DELIVERY MOUSE: Sure thing, boss.

G: An’ mouse, don’t forget to deliver them stinkin’ expired jackass meat sandwiches to the hospital, y’know, for the holidays. I’m writin’ ’em all off. Y’know, as a charity donation.

A: Okay, boss. Whatever….

SFX: [Car Engine]

G: Maybe this all ain’t even hapoopenin’ to me. Maybe it’s all a figment of that jackass meat sandwich I had for lunch…. Nah, it’s really real. I still can’t believe the two stinkin’ people closest to me—Fleaglossitty an’ the lousy Ig—they’ve turned on me! Teamed up against me! Betrayed me! An’ all for mon-ney! After all I’ve done to them! An’ now I got trouble at home, too. Forgot to throw some of the Ig’s junk out into the street, so I tried to flush it all down my Electronic Water Cyclone 3000. Now it’s clogged…. Tech guy can’t come fix it till next week ’cause of the Grimace holidays. I ain’t doin’ such a bad job fixin’ this here Perswayssick City up, after all them ten-foot-tall monster kanga-dyno-roos I invented by mistake busted up the place. This lousy city looks priddy stinkin’ good, bustlin’ an' decked out for Grimace. Ah, here I aaam, My GAS Broadcast executive offices an’ studios.

SFX: [Door Open] [Sneakers Squeaking] 

MAN: Merry Grimace, Diroctor Gneeecey.

G: Yeah. Stinkin’ whatever. Same to you. Humbuggarooney!

MAN: Would you care to make a small donation to our Perswayssick Charities to help the less fortunate during these holidays? Every little bit helps!

G: Ain’t there no prisons? Ain’t there no workhice?

MAN: Workhice, Sir?

G: Y’know, ya dope. Plural of workhouse. Now, be off wit’cha! No solicitratin’ allowed on my propooperty, which is this whole lousy buildin’! Git!

SFX: [Elevator Chime]

G: What a pain in the bimbus!

FEMALE ROBOTIC VOICE: Two-hundred-fiftieth floor.

SFX: [Elevator Chime] [Sneakers Squeaking] [Door Open]

G: Well, here I aaam. My stinkin’ office. Alone for Grimace…. Got here jus’ in time. Been holdin’ it in. Gotta use my private bat’room here since my terlit at home is busted. Might even stay here a few days instead of goin’ home….

SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] [Door Slam] [Flushing Toilet] [Door Open] [Sneakers Squeaking]

G: Think I’ll watch a little TV.  

SFX: [Metal Click 4] [Music: Vivaldi Spring]

GNEEECEY: Bad afternooon, everyone! Welcome to “Catchin’ Up Wit’ My Tail,” wit’ meee, your host an’ moderator, Diroctor Gneeecey! Today’s guest is that lousy Ig, Vicki Solá….

VICKI SOLÁ:  Excuse me, Doctor Gneeecey—

G: That’s stinkin’ “Diroctor!” Now, everythin’ she says here today most certaintaneously can an’ will be used against her in a law of court. 

VS:  Uh, stinkin’ Diroctor— 

G:  Heya, Ig, Bad afternoon! Hope ya liked that worn welcome—

VS:  Uh, please don’t call me Ig.  Name’s Vicki.

G:  Okay, Ig—

VS:  Ahem…

G:  Whatsamatter, got throats in your frog?

AUTUMN RAINES: Producer Autumn Raines here. Our guest, author Vicki Sola, shifts uneasily in her faux horsehair-upholstered chair. 

VS: Diroctor, aren’t you supposed to be asking me about my— 

G:  Ya remindicate me of someone—that irritratin’ Nicki Rodriguez.  In fact, I ain’t never seen the two of youse together! Could that be ’cause you’re really the same person?

 VS:  [chuckles] I guess you could say that Nicki Rodriguez is an alternate version of myself.  I’ve worked in radio for years as a DJ and producer. And I’ve worked hard throughout my life for more than a few difficult bosses. In a word—

 G:  That’s more than a word.

 VS:  As I was saying, my stories are actually sort of my convoluted autobiography—and then some—set to SciFi and fantasy. 

G:  How can anyone’s dopey life be set to somethin’?  Heh hah, heh haah, heh haaah!

 VS:  Now that you’ve asked, one of my goals is to cause young adults, ages ten to two hundred and ten, to spit their drinks through their noses as they watch Alice’s Wonderland collide with The Wizard’s Oz. And in The Getaway That Got Away, no one’s wearing helmets in your land of 450-story skyscrapers and speeding, fully-articulated thirty-two-door stretch limos—

G:  No need to get personal—keep my stinkin’ vehicle outta this—

VS:  But it’s part of my story—

G:  Your story’s weird. An’ so are yooou. 

VS:  Puhleeeze. Just stick to your questions. 

G:  Ya got glue? 

VS:  Listen, I don’t get paid to sit here and take abuse— 

G:  In your books, evoovidently I pay that Nicki Rodriguez to take abuse! 

VS:  Well, yeah. You can say that again. 

G: That again.

N: [sighs] In The Getaway That Got Away, you claim to “pay” Nicki when she ends up working for you at WGAS Radio and TV. Anyone who’s ever slaved away for pennies, or has observed that life can be ridiculous, will relate to her situation.

AR: Our host and moderator is scratching his scruffy derriere rather vigorously at this point. 

G: It is ridiculous—your dopey book, I mean.  All of your books. So, tell us stinkin’ more. 

AR: The author appears to be trying not to look at our host and moderator. 

VS: Well, my laugh-loaded fantasy launches the reader into a strange universe where things are not what they seem.  Dismayed by a basement-apartment existence barely enabled by two low-paying radio jobs, Nicki Rodriguez experiences a dramatic change in outlook when fate transports her to an even lousier place—a distorted world inhabited mostly by canine-humanoids, y’know, walking, talking dogs who are trapped in a dimension somewhere between New Jersey and outer space. 

AR: Our host and moderator’s eyes appear to be narrowing. 

G: You callin’ my Perswayssick County lousy? 

VS:  I suppose so.  Living a dog’s life—forced to work for and reside with Perswayssick County’s greedy, tail-wagging leader, self-described “business maggot” Diroctor B.Z. Z. Gneeecey— 

G:  That would be meee—I ain’t got no problem wit’ that… 

VS:  Anyway—while she's living with and working for you—Nicki searches desperately for her pilfered portfolio containing ten thousand hard-earned dollars and prays fervently that her life-threatening dimension burn heals so she can attempt a perilous return to “regular New Jersey” and her old life. 

G:  I didn’t steal nuthin'— 

VS:  [sighs] Would you please stop interrupting?  Now, all the while, Gneeecey—yes, that would be you—is happily selling out Perswayssick County’s environment and welfare to a murderous mob of waxy-faced Jersey gangster-style aliens. SFX: [Scary Ambience]

G:  Don’t talk baaad ’bout my pals.  Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark, an’ Mark are my friends—an’ so are Mark, Mark an’— 

VS:  Please—let me finish.  Gneeecey—that’s you—has convinced these Markmen that Nicki has something they need.  Complicating matters further is the arrival of Blirg, a month-long season where time itself runs backward. 

AR:  At this juncture in time, our host and moderator removes one of his red high-top sneakers, sniffs it, frowns, then tosses it over his left shoulder. 

G: Yeah—I love Blirg! Everythin’s backward—ya stinkin’ get to eat your pie before your meat, taters, an’ brokookoli. An’ peas. An’ carrots. An’ spinach. An’ lousy cauliflower…which gives me so much gas that I… 

VS:  We, uh, get the idea. 

AR:  Our host and moderator appears to be blushing through his fur. 

G: Any, uh, romance, in this dopey novel of yours? 

VS:  Nicki has what she calls an “almost-boyfriend,” salsa bandleader Carlos Santiago. And then, in “Part Two," when she arrives in Perswayssick County a second time, her WGAS coworker Cleve Wheeler becomes a romantic interest— 

G:  Lousy Iggleheimer...I’ll proboobably end up firin’ him... 

AR:  The author appears to be taking a deep breath and silently counting to ten. 

VS: Whenever Nicki’s with Cleve, she seems to forget about Carlos. And, of course, there’s Gneeecey’s—uh, your former fiancée, Goonafina Blopperdang—

G:  You stinkin’ leave my Goonafina outta this— 

VS:  Okay—we’ll just let folks read about her. 

AR:  Smoke appears to be billowing out of Gneeecey’s black triangular ears. 

G: Let’s jus’ stinkin’ change the subject! Could ya see any of yer lousy books as one of them there motion pictures? 

VS:  My books are not lousy, and yes, it’s been suggested that my stories’ surreal elements and settings lend themselves to visualization. I envision a combination of human actors interacting with realistically animated characters. 

G:  Who do ya got in mind to play the—ugh—huuuman charackookters? 

VS:  I picture a Latina Jodie Foster-type actress portraying Nicki, who’s an independent, capable, brave young woman with an intense, workaholic nature—like the characters Foster plays in The Silence of the Lambs and Contact. And I wrote Cleve Wheeler’s part with Will Smith in mind. 

G:  Whuddabout meeee? 

VS:  What about you? 

G:  Who’d play meeee? 

VS:  Well, maybe Danny DeVito...or Daffy Duck...

G:  In their stinkin’ dreams.  Ya writin’ any more junk? 

VS:  Yeah. And it’s not junk. I actually am in the process of writing more related stories— 

G:  Don’t look so stinkin’ pleased wit’ yourself. 

AR:  The author is grinning. 

VS: In the sequel, You Can’t Unscramble the Omelet, Nicki’s character grows. Rather than just reacting as crazy things happen to her and all around her, she becomes more of a force—she discovers quite accidentally that she possesses quantum powers! 

AR: Gneeecey’s somewhat grimy snout crinkles. 

G:I don’t like the sound of that... 

AR: The author is still grinning. 

VS: Didn't think you would. 

AR: Gneeecey chews and swallows one of his striped “Health Cigars,” prescribed to counteract chronic constipation. 

G: Tell us, the people who read your junk, what else do they stinkin’ like? 

VS:  Douglas Adams’ classic Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and some of my favorite comic strips Get Fuzzy, Monty, Robotman, Dilbert, Garfield, Bloom County, and— 

G:  Who asked ya? 

AR:  The author is shifting uneasily in her seat.  

VS: Why, you just did—and tell me, why do you eat those cigars? And why do you call ’em “health cigars”? 

G:  SFX: [Belch] ’Scuze me, heh, heh. Trapped gas. Now, who’s interviewin’ who?

VS:  Ugh. I just wondered—

G:  Mind your business, Ig. Now, what caused ya to write all this crazy stuff?

VS:  I first began writing this years ago, when— 

G:   AAAH, HAAAH, HAAAAH, HAAAATCHOOO! 

AR:  The author ducks quickly as a chill mist rains down upon the set. 

VS: Bless you, Diroctor. 

G:  Why? 

VS: Well, that’s what we usually say when someone— 

G:  Not on my dopey planet. An’ if ya noticed, I pride myself on sneeezin’ phonetically.

VS:  Uh, yes. I noticed. Anyway, to answer your question, I’m an animal lover. My beloved pets inspired my stories—my beagle-terrier mixes, the almost-as-smart-as-a-human Sooperflea, the dopey-but-beautiful Flubbubb, and my feisty, naughty Chihuahua-terrier, Dr. B. Gneeecey, and my high-jumping, audacious little mouse with an attitude, Altitude. 

AR:  Our host and moderator is gritting his teeth. 

G: Ya must mean four other people— 

VS:  Years ago, I began writing short pieces about them, complete with illustrations, and now here we are... 

G:  Where? An’ how can anyone write pieces? I’m maaad when there’s pieces in my drinks!

AR: The author’s eyeballs have rolled up to the ceiling. 

G:  Y’know, Ig, I’ve jus’ ’bout stinkin’ heard enough.  I’m gonna do everything I can to keep your nex' crummy books from ever comin' out! I'm gonna keep people from readin' ’em!  

AR:  The author has bolted upright in her chair. 

VS: You can’t—   

 G:  I can, an’ I will! I’m The Grate One—I’ll do any stinkin’ thing I wanna do. Obliviously, ya don’t understaaand that! Why, I can even sue ya in a law of court—jus’ wait till ya get one of them feast an’ resist letters on that faaancy-schmaaancy letterhead of my lousy attorney, John Smiff, Equestrian! 

 VS:  Oh, I am so scared— NOT! Dream on, Diroctor….

AR: At this point, an elderly, well-dressed human, our Diroctor Gneeecey’s therapist Ingabore Scriblig, who prefers to be addressed as “Grandma,” has arrived on the set. GAS Network intern, donkey-humanoid Stuart Pitt is ushering her to a chair onstage. Meanwhile, our host and moderator has tumbled out of his chair and taken a rather nasty spill onto the oh-so-hard floor.

SFX: [Boing] [Duck Horn]

G: Ow! My bimbus! Why, Graaandma—what’re yooou doin’ here?

IS: Your producer inwited me on as a guest, don’t you rrremember?

G: Some-stinkin’-one, evoovidently, someone real stooopid, double-booked guests today! 

AR: Oh dear, our host and moderator is looking around through narrowed, fur-covered eyelids, hoping to assign blame, I’m sure…I do believe it was possibly yours truly that was responsible for that scheduling error. I, uh, must go now…I think I’ve left something or other baking in an oven somewhere, possibly even overseas…I had better go and update my resumé…toodles….

IS: Vee can reschedule my interview for anudder time, Diroctor.

G: Nah. Siddown, Graaandma. I’d actually be hapoopy to cut the Ig’s stooopid interview short here.

IS: Vhy, I don’t tink her interview vas stupid! I tought eet vas wery interesting!

G: Not that interesticatin'. Okay, Graaandma, let’s chase to the cut—

IS: Alrightsky den…speaking of chasing, I vas vondering, hawe you caught your tail yet? Ah, ha, hah, hah, ha!

VS: [laughing]

G: That’s not funny! An’ I hear yoooou laughin’ too, ya lousy Ig!

IS: Vell, it vas kind of funny! 

G: Graaandma, I’m gettin’ very maaad now, an’ embarrassed. I wanted to disgust summa my personal problems right here on air wit’cha. Y’know, reality TV! It’s real popoopular these days! Thought this way, I wouldn’t hafta, y’know, pay ya for a lousy therapy session.

IS: Diroctor Gneeecey, you really don’t vant to air your dirty laundry publicly, right here on telewision, do you?

G: It’s okay, I’m wearin’ it!

IS: I’m sorry, Diroctor Gneeecey, dee code of ethics associated vit my profession vill not allow me to conduct such a session publicly. You are free to see me in my office.

G: But yooou ain’t free in your office! Well, thanks for nuthin’, Graaandma!

IS: I’m wery sorry, Diroctor. I see you are valking avay! Maybe den you should look for anudder therapist—

G: Mayboobee I stinkin’ will—I’ll look for a therapoopist who’ll grab the lousy bull by the tail an’ look it squarely in the face! An’ I’ll stinkin’ save ya the trouble of chargin’ me for askin’ me what I stinkin’ learned today. I learned we don’t know what we got till we abuse it!

SFX: [Fail Horn] [Door Slam] [Music: Vivaldi Spring] [Metal Click 4]

G: I jus’ turned that stinkin’ garbage TV off. I’m gonna fire that Autumn Raines an’ cancel that lousy “Catchin’ Up Wot’ My Tail” program. After all, it’s my dopey station. I can do that! I aaam so stinkin’ saaaad. Poor little meee. I aaam absitively posilutely gobsmacked! What am I gonna dooo? Even if Fleaglossitty an’ the lousy Ig didn’t do what they did on purpoopose, I still don’t think I could never ever forgive them! Nebberd-kinnezzard, like we say back on my Planet Eccchs! Why am I always so unhapoopy?

SFX: [Cartoon Annoyed Character Crying] [Sad Strings] [Closing]

G: Yaaaaaaa! Holy Saint Bogelthorpe! Is that a stinkin’ ghost I see lookin’ at me?

GHOST: Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha! I am indeed a ghost, and if I am stinking, it is merely because I am a reflection of who you are! Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

SFX: [Cartoon Slip] [Slip and Fall] [Duck Horn]

G: Ow! Ya jus’ made me fall on my lousy bimbus! You ain’t real! You’re just a figment of that expired jackass meat sandwich I had for lunch! Ya ain’t real!

GHOST: Oh, but I am! I am the ghost of your own behavior! 

G: Oh, stinkin’ nooooo!

GHOST: Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha! Merry Grimace! To be continued!

SFX: [Carnival Creepy Music Box] [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] ###