Creepy - Creepy Presents Scare You To Sleep - Price Check

Episode Date: August 31, 2023

Price Check written and performed by Shelby ScottContent Warning: sexual harassmentMusic by Epidemic SoundAdditional sound fx from FreeSound.org:Sams scream.wav by giraffestudio Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Creepy's special presentation of Scare You to Sleep starts now. And welcome to Scare You to Sleep. I'm your host, Shelby Scott, and I'm here to read you a bedtime story. This week, I have a bit of an odd tale for you. It's about friendship, the passing of time, and ghosts. And isn't every story better with a ghost in it? I think so. Here is price check.

We're 26th, 1993. Ashley Jackson, and we are here at the abandoned family market. We are here to summon the spirit of the rat. You didn't even know about recording ghosts until I read that book and told you about it. Yeah, and you couldn't have even done this if I hadn't stolen it from my dad's office. Okay, fine. You tell. One time in the... When was it?

1952. 1952. There was this guy who, he like, bagged groceries, and then... Oh, my God, Ash. Just let me tell. You can't even remember the story. Fine, but I get to be the one to ask the ghost's questions. Fine.

So, back in 1952. What now? Why are we even telling this if we already know it? Who is this for? The ghosts? I'm setting the mood. You know I want to be a famous director someday, but someone couldn't swipe their dad's camcorder.

How was I supposed to smuggle it out of the house? The thing it comes in is bigger than my French horn case. Whatever. The rule of directing is to show, not tell. But since I can't show... I'm going to tell. Okay? Yes, sir, Mr. Spielberg.

As I was saying, back in 1952, this was like the grocery store for the town, the only one. It was like a super small town back then. There was this guy who worked there up here. His name was Victor Frank. He was a grocery bagger. The rat bather. Oh my god, Ash, let me get there.

So, he was a grocery backer, and he was kind of a weirdo. He never got drafted during the war for some medical reason, and my grandpa said that back then, even if it wasn't your fault, people kind of looked down on you for not fighting. Some people even thought he made up his medical thing just to get out of it. Okay, so some of the town folks weren't very nice to him. I don't feel bad for him. My great aunt said he had really bad breath,

and he would stare at your boobs while he was bagging your groceries. He'd also drop things on purpose to try to look up ladies' skirts, especially oranges, since they kind of roll. Then he'd rush up against your ankle when he'd reach for it. I have the chills just thinking about it. First of all, we don't know that for sure. And second of all, by the end of this story, no one is going to feel bad for him. No, I know. But like, I'm setting the mood.

Like you said, oh, director. So one day, Victor is bagging the groceries as per usual when this lady named Gwynnevere Morton walks into family market. The Morton's were kind of like hoity-toity, and Gwinevere was known for being kind of a bitch. Sarah, oh my God, what if our parents hear this? Well, she was. Fine.

She was just super snooty and difficult. Is that better? All of the Morton's, were. They still are. Remember when Cynthia Morton threw her tray at the lunch lady in the eighth grade for not giving her a chocolate milk? Oh, and when Kevin Morton threatened to sue Mr. Richards for failing him in algebra? Anyway, the moldy tree those rotten apples came from, came walking in at the same time Victor drops an orange. Told you. We don't know if that's what he was doing, Ashley. Your aunt is literally insane. You only see her on Thanksgiving because your mom hates her.

That's so mean, Sarah. I'm sorry, but you keep interrupting, and you know I hate that. Ash. Ash, I said I was sorry. Don't pout. Do we even want to do this anymore? We can just leave. I want to stay. Just tell your story. I won't interrupt anymore. Oh, my God. Stop being like that. Like what? You said you didn't want me to interrupt, and I'm not.

I have to be back by curfew. I don't have time for this. Fine. So, Gwynnevere walks in, and her foot lands right on this orange, and she goes flying. It's a whole thing. She's screaming and yelling, and as soon as she figures out what happened, she demands that the store manager fire Victor. Victor begged the manager not to fire him.

But he does anyway. Because what else are you going to do when this old bitch... Sarah! Sorry. When this old lady is screaming in your ear. Plus, their family was so powerful. at the time. They basically owned the town. They don't anymore, but their grandkids seem to think they still do. Now you're interrupting yourself. Just tell the story. Sorry, you're right. Victor gets fired,

and my point was that the Morton's had so much pull that not only is he fired, but he can't get a job anywhere. Plus, he loved his job at the grocery store. Yeah, no more skirts to look up. Ash, oh my God. Sorry. This is a good part. Keep going. Okay. So, Victor ends up homeless, and the rumor is that he was living in the store.

Grocery stores are bigger than they look. They have all these storage rooms and refrigerators behind the milk and offices and stuff. So if you really knew your way around like Victor did, he knew where to hide. But the problem was he could also listen, and he would hear that people were still talking about him. The checker girls would make jokes about his breath. Women would whisper in the produce section about how they were glad the creepy bagger was gone, and even the manager would brag about how much money he was saving the store by having one less useless employee. Victor didn't burst out and tell them all off.

No. He waited until Christmas Day, one of the few days that the store was closed. That's when he did it. He took all the rat poison off the shelf and mixed it with a little water and aisle by aisle, he went. He spent the entire day and night injecting rat poison into every fruit, vegetable, steak, chicken, box of cereal, basically anything he could get a needle into. Where did he get the needle? I don't know. It was the 50s. Anyway, they opened the next day. Thank God it wasn't as busy as usual, being as it had just been Christmas and all.

But they still had patrons. By that night, over 150 people had to be rushed to the hospital. All poisoned. 43 ended up. dying. Twenty-four of those were children. But the next morning, the store opened like normal, because news moved super slow back then, and the manager had no idea. Some of the townspeople didn't either. So as that first morning rush started to flow in, all of a sudden, the police show up. They finally figured out that all the sick people had been to family market the day before,

and that's when Victor comes out of nowhere, one of his hidey holes or something, and runs up to the front and screams, price check on rat poison, over and over again, like he had completely lost it. Gosh, I'm literally almost done with the story. Can you not? The police take Victor downtown and put him in a cell, but the town was pissed. This is the part they won't put in the papers, and I know it's because they're protecting these guys. Basically, a few men from the town who had lost children and wives and loved ones in this horrendous attack decided they didn't want to wait for a trial and all that. They wanted justice, real justice. So they stormed the police station and stole Victor. They beat him almost to death and dragged him to the family market where they handcuffed him to a

checkstand. Then they set the store on fire. The problem was, the fire just didn't spread like they thought it would, and it started to snow pretty hard, which then kind of put it out through the hole in the roof that the fire had made. But the next day, when they went in to make sure Victor was at least dead or to make him that way if he wasn't, all they found was his arm still attached to the handcuffs. He had chewed off his own arm, just like a rat, caught in a trap. And that's why they call him the rat bagger.

Wait, I thought they called him the rat bagger because he used rat poison. Maybe it's both. Anyway, that's why we're here tonight to collect electronic voice phenomena from the rat bagger, who they say haunts this half-burned-out grocery store to this very day, looking to seek revenge on the people who took his whole life away from him. Okay, that's the story. You ready to ask the questions we wrote down? Um, actually, you can ask. You're better at it.

Aw, you're not scared, are you? Actually, I am. Haven't you been hearing those creams moving around at the dark? Look out, Ashley, the rat beggar's gonna get you. Get it over with so we can go back to your place and watch and see no man. Okay. First question. Is there anyone with us?

I don't hear anything. That's what the tape is for. Sometimes you can't hear ghosts out loud, but they can put their voices on tape somehow. Electronic voice phenomena? Duh. Oh. You are here.

Are you one of the poor souls whose life was taken to? too soon by the ratbagger, or Victor, as you knew him. Victor, Frank? If you are, give us a sign. I can't. I'm sorry, Sarah. Let's just go home. Ash, come on. This is what we came here for. Plus, ghosts can't hurt you. You forgot to mention the last part of the legend, Sarah. The part where kids have gone missing for years trying to come track down the rat

backer. We don't even know if he died. I left that part out because it's bullshit. That's just an urban legend. I'm a filmmaker. I want to use facts. Plus, how did Victor live with half his arm chewed off? He would have bled out in like an hour. Use your brain, genius. Meen. It's scary. I'm leaving. I'll wait for you outside. I just want to watch Encino Man. We have to return it tomorrow. Ash, stop being a baby. You don't even have the flashlight. You're going to get her. Ashley, what happened? Are you okay? Talking about. You got someone to pretend to be the rap bagger. You're a bitch, Sarah. You're a real bitch. I'm going home. I came and did this stupid ghost thing with you and you just wanted to... Ashley, I think you're just scaring yourself.

Hold on. I'm coming. We can leave, okay? I'm so sorry. Okay, I see, I think you're seeing your reflection in one of these old windows. Ash? I can't find you. There's no exit over there. Where did you go? Come on, let's just go home, okay? I have the flashlight. Just follow the light, okay? And just, let's just go. You're really going to make me walk around and find you. You didn't even go the right way. You were right. It's really creepy in here. Don't make me walk around alone.

Ash, what is that? Who's the... Ashley? Is that you? What's the prank, you guys? Stop, okay? I know you make fun of me for believing a ghost, but funny. You were right, Ash, okay, this isn't funny. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't bring anything like this again.

Let's just... 26, 2003. Eric Ruther's attempting to contact the other side of the veil. I would like to speak with Ashley Jackson. It's been 10 years since you disappeared. I want to know what happened. We all want to know if you're no longer on this plane. Please, at least tell us where your body is so we can lay it to rest to your family.

So I can have some closure. I guess I just wanted to say, I've never forgiven myself for dragging you here that night in high school. I don't know what you, what we saw that night. I told them, I told them there was a man here. I didn't eat. I came to town for Christmas, and I thought I'd, I don't know. I found this stupid thing in my room. I never gave it back to your dad.

I'm sorry. I guess I should have given it to the police, but what help would it be? It's the only way I can never hear your voice again. Her 26, 2023. Eric Crothers, I finally listened to the tapes. Took a shitload of therapy, but my therapist was right.

She convinced me, I know what I saw. I saw you. Victor, you took Ashley. I've been back so many times over the years. Technology has gotten so much more advanced. The camera I so desperately wanted fits in my pocket now. I found nothing, just an empty building. Why, I thought we'd never captured anything that night.

I don't know. Did I block it out? I only hear static because that's what I wanted to hear. Doesn't matter now. I want you to release her, Victor. I know you're there. Make your little noises. Try to scare me.

Show yourself. You haven't done that in 30 years. Are you too scared to pick on a grown woman? Do you only pick on teenage girls? Ratbagger? Must be hungry. Ever since Ashley disappeared, kids don't come here anymore. Even the old urban legend has faded away.

No one talks about you anymore, Victor. They only talk about the girl who was kidnapped. You're more invisible than ever. More so even than when you used to bag groceries for the women who had to hold handkerchiefs up to their noses to avoid your breath. Who skipped buying oranges because they figured out your weird little game. The library that held the microfeetheed that told your story burned to the ground before it could be digitized. No one knows you anymore. So let her go.

So she can move on. So you can move on. You don't have to stay here. You can be free too. You don't have to spend an eternity as a ghost of a legend that no one remembers. Our grandparents? Ashley's crazy aunt, they're all gone too. When my generation dies, so will the memory of you.

Let her go if it makes you feel better. You didn't just take her life that night. Look mine, 30 years of failed relationships and addictions and loony bins, all because my best friend was stripped from this very plain of existence by a dead psychopath. I have nothing to lose. So here I am with this goddamn little tape recorder

that they don't even make tapes for anymore, mind you. So this is the only one I have. This is the only shot I have. I don't even know how much time, how much space it has left on it. But it's the only thing that has ever seemed to get you to budge. To talk to me, you let her through last time.

for just... Thanks for listening. This was my last week being featured on the creepy podcast. I can't thank John enough for having me. If you'd like to hear more from me, look for Scary to Sleep wherever you get your podcasts. You can also find the show on social media at Scary to Sleep, all one word. Now, go get some sleep. Sweet dreams.