Airplanes in His Pants! Reality Breaks – and His Boxers Rip!

 “Airplanes in His Pants! Reality Breaks—and His Boxers Rip!” Episode 243

“There are AIRPLANES… in my PANTS!!” ✈️😱

Yeah… it sounds ridiculous.
 Until it doesn’t.

In this chaotic, laugh-out-loud episode of Perswayssick Radio: Unearthly Comedy, Diroctor Zig Gneeecey spirals into a full-blown meltdown—convinced that real, propeller-slicing airplanes are attacking him from the inside out. 💥

At first, it’s absurd.
 Then… it’s painful.
 Then… it’s deeply unsettling.😵‍💫

As Nicki scrambles to help—calling in Doctor Idnas and digging for answers—something even worse emerges:

👉 This may not just be in his head.
 👉 And she might be next.

All of it unfolds inside the ongoing forced life review, where Gneeecey and Sooperflea are trapped—reliving their past mistakes under the watch of Zinfandel… whether they like it or not. 🚨 What Starts As Comedy… Turns Into Something Else:

✈️ Hallucinations—or something more?
 ☣️ A toxic mystery spreading through Perswayssick County
 🧠 A neurological disorder spiraling out of control
 😬 And a reality that’s starting to crack

👀 Why People Can’t Stop Listening:

If you like:
🔥 Fast-paced, unpredictable storytelling
 🔥 Dark comedy mixed with sci-fi weirdness
 🔥 Twists that make you go “wait… WHAT?”
 🔥 Hitchhiker’s Guide-style absurd chaos

…this episode is going to hook you FAST. 🎧 Listen now https://perswayssickradio.buzzsprout.com 🎧

If you enjoy comedy sci-fi podcasts, surreal storytelling, bizarre alien worlds, and darkly funny audio dramas, you’re in the right dimension. 🎙️ New episodes weekly  🎙️ Subscribe & enter the chaos 

We hope you enjoyed this week’s episode! We thank Sam Leviatin for providing Gneeecey’s “beaudiful voaline 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  

Transcript

Transcript / “Airplanes in His Pants! Reality Breaks – and His Boxers Rip!” – Episode 243, 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: [Halloween Fun & Spooky Logo] 

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: Those two canine-humanoids, Diroctor Bizzig “Zig” Gneeecey and Fleaglossitty “Flea” Floppinsplodge, also known as “Sooperflea,” remain trapped inside a weird dimension, forced by their dismayed Planet Eccchs leader Zinfandel to watch a kind of a life review….

FLEAGLOSSITTY “FLEA” FLOPPINSPLODGE, AKA “SOOPERFLEA”: Boy, Zig, ya really treated Nicki and Cleve horribly. You been a real jerk! At Cleve’s funeral, you were so disrespectful! An’ look how ya treated Nicki at work! I think you’re a real—

DIROCTOR BIZZIG “ZIG” GNEEECEY: It’s all your stinkin’ fault that we’re stuck in this dimension an’ gotta watch our whole embarrassin’ life go by again!

F: Speak for yourself, Zig! I ain’t got nuthin’ to be embarrassed about!

G: Oh yeah? It’s your lousy fault that we’re here! That dopey Empoopathy 5000 machine ya invented brought us here!

F: Well, you started all the trouble that made us use it! An’ my Empathy 5000 ain’t dopey—it’s state of the art! I jus’ gotta work on it a little more—y’know, work out some of the bugs! I’m the one who should be mad—do you realize I’m missin’ that concert wit’ my two favorite bands? Spit Wit’out Color, an’ Tossed Cookies? Ya know how much them tickets cost me, Zig?

G: I can play better music for ya!

F: What’re ya doin’ Zig?

G: Well, Fleaglossitty, in my trusty T-shirt pocket here, I jus’ hapoopen to have this special, spare pocket-sized voaline—

F: Ya mean violin—

G: Stop always corrugatin’ me! It’ll play good, even though it ain’t electrical. That would proboobably be dangerousical in this here weird atmosphere.

F: It’ll probably be dangerousical to my ear drums!

SFX: [Voaline 4] [Glass Shatter] 

F: Looky, Zig! Your playin’ shattered that window!

SFX: [Magic Summon] [Heavenly Drone]

F: Looky! Is it he, whose name I dare not say?

ZINFANDEL: It is I, Zinfandel, your Planet Eccchs leader. Young man, that violin—

G: Oh, please, don’t conficsticate my beaudiful voaline!

Z: You mean, violin. Put it away! You two canine-humanoids got yourself into this mess, and I will not unfreeze your dimension of Perswayssick County until you finish watching this life review—and hopefully learn from it! Goodbye…for now….

SFX: [Magic Summon]

G & F [in unison]: Wait—comeback!

SFX: [Fail Horn] [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Heavenly Drone] 

NARRATOR VICKI SOLÁ: And so, Gneeecey and Flea have no choice but to obey the command of their Planet Eccchs leader, Zinfandel. Forced to sit and witness the unfolding of their past, they can only hope to learn from it. The life review continues now with a look back at a pivotal chapter—“Airplanes in His Pants”—because, quite simply… this is what comes next in our continuing story.

SFX: [Magic Spell] [Propeller Planes] [Comedy Chase]

NICKI RODRIGUEZ: “Haaaalp! Airplanes in my pants!” howled Gneeecey as he tore into the Grate Room. “Haaaalp! Haaaalp! Haaaalp! Haaaalp! Haaaalp!”

I chased after him with a can of plane repellent. “Lemme spray ’em!” Gneeecey’s Perswayssick County was notorious for its pesky flying insects that mutated as a natural defense to resemble high-flying commuter jets and propeller aircraft. Their bites were much itchier than mosquitos’ back on my Planet Earth.

“It’s not them bugs, ya Ig—it’s reeeeal planes!”

“You can’t possibly have real airplanes in your pants—”

“I dooooo!” He ran circles around the coffee table, clutching his keister. “An’ their propellers are slashin’ up my underpaaants—my favorite underpaaants that Stummix Bank gave me for bein’ a good customer! They’re polka-dotted with dimes! Haaaalp!”

“Uh, sit—no, second thought, stand right where you are. I’ll call Doctor Idnas.” I almost thought I could hear planes flying around, but that had to be an auditory illusion….

Gneeecey’s eyeballs spun in opposite directions as he performed a strange belly dance, incorporating elements of hip-hop. “Planes are killin’ me! Hurtin’ my stinkin’ bimbus! Haaaalp!””

“I’m sure they’ll, uh, run out of gas. Lemme call the doctor.”

SFX: [Dialing Phone]

“Hallo,” answered Doctor Idnas herself.

“Hello, Doctor Idnas, Nicki Rodriguez here. We’ve got, well, kind of a problem. Actually, an emergency. Diroctor Gneeecey here is running around the living room table in circles, screaming that there are airplanes in his pants, and they’re, uh, slashing up his underwear and hurting him!”

“Vall,” stated Gneeecey’s neurologist, “I believe dat he may be suffering a relapse of his Redecoritis.”

Redecoritis was the neurological disorder that caused Gneeecey to think that trees, chairs, and other inanimate objects were stalking and chasing him. And mocking him. It was also responsible for his speech impediment.

Gneeecey could be heard in the background, shrieking. “Maybe if I go sit on the terlit, the lousy stinkin’ planes’ll drown!”

“I hear him screaming, I vould not advise dat he go into dee batroom right now, as being around so much porcelain vould be dangerous ven he is so unsteady and upset!”

“Don’t go in the bathroom, Diroctor, Doctor Idnas says it would be dangerous!”

“So it ain’t dangerousical for all them airplanes to be slaaashin’ up my bimbus? An’ rippin’ up my best underpaaants? Thaaanks for nuthin’! Okay, I’ll stinkin’ stay out here an’ suffer then! The planes’ll proboobably kill me! But that’s okay! Hope she’s hapoopy! An’ yooou too, ya lousy Ig!”

“Quiet, Diroctor, we’re freakin’ trying to help you!”

“Vall, Nicki, again, you know dat I and many odders in dee medical profession, are gathering more proof, from studies and dee patients vee see every day, dat exposure to mierk is dee root cause of deese neurological disorders—you know, dee Redecoritis and dee infected speech, known as ooglitis. Diroctor Gneeecey ees diagnosed vit’ both.”

“I do not have a speech impedipoodiment!” screeched Gneeecey, zigzagging around all over the place. “I can hear youse guys over the plane engines!”

“Quiet, Diroctor! Now, Doctor Idnas, I’m also a bit concerned about myself—I almost think I can actually hear these planes….”

“I tink, Nicki, as you are surrounded by mierk, too, dat you should make an appointment to see me too, for evaluation, to rule out any problems.”

“Okay, Doctor, I will. The whole of Perswayssick County is infested with this mucky, toxic substance.”

“Yah, hopefully dat referendum vill pass—dee one to outlaw mierk and clean up dee riverbanks. Now, Nicki, I vant you to give Diroctor Gneeecey an extra five milligrams of Bumpex—you know, anudder half of his daily ten milligram tablet—and den find an ice pack for him to sit on.”

“Yes, Doctor, I’m looking in the freezer, right now.” Phone wedged between my chin and shoulder, I balanced a dozen boxes of Mrs. Dammit’s Sloggenberry Pie in my frostbitten left hand and, with my right hand, held back an avalanche of freezer-burned jackass patties, several plastic containers bursting with frozen ice block soup, and a couple hairy, egg-shaped green things. With faces.

Finally, Gneeecey shuffled into the kitchen, whimpering. SFX: [Sneakers Squeaking] “Ya were right, Ig. They ran outta gas.”

SFX: [Misgivings & Misfortune]

That moment, the ice pack I’d been searching for landed on my foot.

“Found one,” I informed Doctor Idnas as I hopped up and down, seeing stars and galaxies.

Gneeecey tugged on my sleeve like a little child. “Tell her I take Sleepoopex ’cause the lousy Bumpex keeps me awake, an’ I swallow it wit’ this purpoople coughin’ syrup, but then I get too sleepy an’ get a headache—”

“Sssssssh! Yes, Doctor Idnas, I’ll make sure he takes the extra med and sits on the ice pack for fifteen minutes. And I’ll make appointments for both of us to see you. Thank you so much.”

Gneeecey kicked me in the shin. 

“Ow! What’s wrong with you—besides the obvious?”

“Don’t stinkin’ shooosh me in my own house!”

“Doctor Idnas has a heavy Eccchsian accent—I wanted to make sure I understood everything she said. Now, I’ll cut an extra Bumpex in half for you, and here, she wants you to sit on this for fifteen minutes.” I wrapped the ice pack in a dish towel and placed it on Gneeecey’s chair. “Sit, please.”

He lowered his embattled runway of a behind, then sprang up. “Too stinkin’ cold!”

“Doctor Idnas says icing it’ll desensitize the, uh, area,” I replied, guiding a razor blade down the center of a tiny, scored Bumpex tablet. “And she also told me something kinda scary.”

He settled back into his seat. “Stinkin’ what did she tell ya?”

“She says recent studies have linked mierk exposure to Redecoritis. And ooglitis.”

He jumped up. “You’re lyin’!”

“No, I’m not. Don’t you remember her mentioning during your last appointment, that in autopsies, they’re finding high mierk levels in the tissues of people with Redecoritis and Redecoritis-infected speech—”

Gneeecey hurled the ice pack into the stainless-steel sink. SFX: [Bang] “What does she stinkin’ know? She ain’t never done no autopoopsies on me!”

[Nicki sighs] “She says more and more patients are presenting with neurological symptoms. Last time we saw her, she said she’s already treated a couple dozen good Intentions Paving employees.”

“They did my lousy driveway.”

I handed him a glass of water, along with his extra dose of Bumpex. “Yeah—those three freaking miles of miercolated pavement that surround this house. And at our last county Quality of Life meeting, Manny Meantwell said many of his workers have been coming down sick—remember?”

Gneeecey kicked his chair over. SFX: [Wooden Bang] “I don’t stinkin’ believe none of this—it’s them 345 people tryin’ to pass that dopey refooferendum to baaan mierk, they’re saboobotagin’ the election. Only I, as Grate Gizzygalumpaggis of this here lousy county have the right to do that!”

“And,” I continued, “Doctor Idnas said that Evoovelyn Jefoofrey’s husbooband, who works for Freak O’Nature Foods proboobably—”

My mouth was still open and moving, but my vocal cords had quit. A burning, prickly sensation spread from my scalp right down to the soles of my feet.

Gneeecey almost choked on his pill.

SFX: [Fail Horn] [Orchestra Cliffhanger] [Magic Spell]

We hope you enjoyed this week’s episode! We thank Sam Leviatin for providing Gneeecey’s “beaudiful voaline 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] ###