Morbid - Listener Tales 20

Episode Date: November 2, 2020

It's a scary truly Listener Tales edition this week, kids. Tonight we have a terrifying reminder to always walk with a buddy, a horrific hometown murder, a seriously close call with a killer, a plague doctor with a cursed foot, a brush with the Manson family and one seriously ghoulish old lady. Spooky season may be winding down for the rest of the world but in here, its all year 'round. Join us, ghouls. Thanks to our sponsors! Pretty Litter Get the world’s smartest litter without leaving home by visiting PrettyLitter.com and use promo code MORBID for 20% off your first order. That’s PrettyLitter.com, promo code MORBID for 20% off. PrettyLitter.com, promo code MORBID. Embr Right now Embr Wave is offering our listeners $50 off when you go to embrwave.com/morbid. That’s E-M-B-R wave.com/morbid. Hunt a Killer Right now, just for our listeners you can go to HuntAKiller.com/MORBID and use promo code MORBID at check out for 20% off your first box. Head to HuntAKiller.com/MORBID for 20% off and to show support for our podcast. HuntAKiller.com/MORBID. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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That's ANGI, or download the app today. Hey weirdos, I'm Alena. I'm Ash. And this is two listener tails. And because this week is Halloween and we have three live virtual shows this week. So it has been bonkers. And we went live on Instagram twice. And we had Creme Countdown, recordings twice.

And you had your record for Scream. Yeah, it's been a real experience. It's been a blast because we've gotten to do so much, but it's been so much. It's a lot. I tweeted the other day as crazy as this week has been and how little sleep both of us are running off of. I'm gonna be really sad when it's open.

I know, because it's been such a crazy whirlwind. I know. Normally, to be honest, we probably should have taken this week off from recording regularly. Seriously. Because we can't even begin to explain to you how much work it's been. But we did not.

And you know what? Here we are. Here we are. And we decided that we're gonna do one listener tails episode, which is this one. And then the other one that's gonna be really stunned Saturday on Halloween. Tomorrow is going to be an actual case,

and it's an Ash-centric case, and it's a really good one from Australia. We got an Australian trail. Australia up in Hule. So yeah, so you're getting your two episodes, but one of them's a listener tails because it's just that kind of week. But you know what? We found good listener tails. Yeah, we did. So we're making it worth your while.

And we're gonna read like more than we usually do. Yeah, we're just gonna go, we're gonna go crazy. Because we love you. All Hallows Eve Eve. It is, it's all Hallows Eve Eve. It's so fun. So blessed be and all that. All right, so you started?

So yeah, I'm going to start with mine. Oh, and let's do this. Oh, correct. So my first one is called The Herific Murder that happened in my hometown. A listener tale. Wow. Yeah, okay. So, well, hello, you wonderful weirdos.

Hello. I've decided to write to you again with a different story for my weird hometown, except this time you can use my name. So hi, I'm Trisha, pronounced like Patricia, but without the Puh. LOL. That was Patricia. I'm 18 and I work a full-time job from 6am to 4.30pm, and your podcast is the only reason I haven't thrown my shoe at some of the old men I work with.

But moving on to the story, for clarification, my hometown of Wayne's Villa-Hile is technically a village with not that many people in it. We really don't like to, we really don't make the news no matter what, and this story did not reach a national level. So that's interesting. So the first time I had, the first story I have is the story of 18-year-old Justin Beck. Justin Gregory or Austin Gregory Myers and Timothy E. Mosley were convicted of murdering Justin in his own home. Oh my God.

The real reason for the murder is unknown, but it's claimed to be a safe that was kept in his family's home. Justin had graduated in 2013 from Wayne'sville High School and was a few weeks away from entering the Navy. Justin and Austin had both attended Wayne'sville Middle School and was a few weeks away from entering the Navy. Justin and Austin had both attended Wayne'sville Middle School and were best friends. According to Timothy Mosley, Austin had asked Timothy if he wanted to make some money, and of course like any other teenager he was interested. They both discussed if they wanted to rob a

local drug dealer or Justin's stepfather, whose name I will leave out. I love that it's just like, hmm, how should we make money? Work? Nah. Let's just rob people. Right? Should we rob our friend or a local drug dealer?

It's like both of those seem like really bad options. Like, because everyone is a bad option to rob. Yeah, like maybe, I don't know. We think your lives. Maybe you just like try to get a job. We think them. Try to make an Etsy shop. I don't know. Do some babysitting.

I don't know. Just try. Just try. Just give it a shot. Austin knew that Justin's stepfather had a safe that held money and a gun in the home, which he believed to be up to $20,000. Myers and Mosley drove to the family home, planning on robbing the safe, but upon arriving they realized Justin was home

and decided against it. Remember Justin is his friend? Yeah, literally. What the fuck? Who's about to leave for the Navy? Yeah. They then left and talked about how they could get the money. Myers came up with the idea to strangle Justin with a wire.

What the fuck? And then make the crime scene look like Justin stole the safe, then ran away from home. What? What the fuck? Trigger warning, it says on the morning of January 28th, 2014, Myers and Mosley purchased septic enzymes, ammonia, septic tank cleaner, and rubber gloves. I am what? Real scared to see what they're going to know about.

Fuck. They then drove to Justin's family home around one p.m. The plan was for Myers to distract Justin while Mosley strangled him. Mosley armed himself with a wire and a six-inch pocket knife. Myers knocked on the door and Justin let them both in as he knew both of them. Yeah, they talked for a while and then Justin went to the kitchen. Mosley saw this opportunity and attacked Justin from behind and attempted to strangle him, while Myers held Justin from the front.

Justin fought against them, and there was a struggle causing all three men to fall to the floor. Myers then realized the wire was wrapped around Justin's chin instead of his neck. Mosley in an act of panic pulled out his pocket knife and stabbed Justin from behind. Oh my god, his friend. Justin was stabbed a total of 21 times, which resulted in his death. You know what this sounds like?

Remember the Sarah Stern case that I covered where her friend is? Because he was Liam and he wanted to get her money. Yeah, yeah. And that's it. They were friends forever and he was like, well, I want her money. Yeah.

So after they left the house, they began to become paranoid about being followed and discussed where they wanted to dispose of the body. They decided to put Justin behind a log in a field in a different county. Myers then poured ammonia and septic enzymes on to Justin. Myers then wanted to shoot Justin's dead body so he grabbed the stolen gun and fired two shots into Justin's back. What the fuck? After they left Justin, they went to the Englewood Ohio, they went to Englewood Ohio and bought a crowbar to get the $20,000 that they thought was in the safe.

Oh no. Instead, they found some paperwork, loose change, bullets, gun accessories, and random items. The case received attention because Mosley was used, who used the knife to murder Justin, received a sentence of life without parole because of a plea bargain. While Myers received the death sentence,

the murder caused proposed changes in Ohio State law to increase penalties for murders named Justin's Law. Myers was sentenced to death at the age of 19 on October 17th, 2014, and is currently on death row awaiting execution. Mosley was sentenced to life in prison on November 14th 2014. I remember the day we were told at school that Justin Beck was found dead. We sat there for a minute in silence in his memory. All I heard were sniffles and his little sister in the

back of the classroom letting out the loudest cry. Oh. The mood was altered from then on. Wenzel High School has his football jersey hanging up. His locker is no longer in use and is covered in notes and pictures. From what I could remember of Justin was that he was the nicest person. There were many times where he would see someone upset or struggling, and he'd always go out of his way to help them. He was always smiling and was never not laughing.

He also graduated for Morn County Career Center as a firefighter and worked at Hamilton Township as one, too. He made it, he made it his job to help as many people as he could. To this day on January 28th of every year, we hold a moment of silence in his memory at school. And she included a picture and he's so handsome. And he has just like, he has one of those faces where you can tell he was just a genuinely nice person. He has kind eyes. He does. He really does. She also included a link which we'll post in the show notes. This is a link to the only apology the family of Justin had back received. Fast forward to 40 seconds if you'd like to play the sound on the podcast.

The family is accepting donations that go towards a scholarship and his name and towards helping military families and other murder victims families. You can email them about donations at JBB-AH-ER-O, so JBB-A-H-E-R-O, at gmail.com. And finally, I'd like to end this story with one of Justin's favorite sayings, and remember to always be a hero. Oh! Thank you for reading and go hug your family and friends because you never know when the last time will be. I apologize for the length of this story.

It just needed to be told. It did. It did. Trisha, you just like, you pulled it my heart straight. Yeah, you set me up with all the feels. And you know what, we'll play that apology really quick now because she included it. So here it is. This is from Timothy

Mosley. I'll keep asking myself the past nine and a half months why I did it and I just can't give you that answer right now. I hope someday that I'll be able to give you that answer and there's not a day or night that goes by that it doesn't haunt me of what I did and there's absolutely no excuse And I just want you guys to know that I really am sorry You're right Timothy. There's no excuse. I'm glad you will be haunted. I was gonna say like I don't care that it haunts you every night Fuck right off. Right. So there you go. Cool. Wow sir. Oh, that was really sad. I know that like reallyunts you every night. Fuck right off. Right, so there you go. Cool. Wowser. That was really sad.

I know that really gave you the, the, the, the, if you will. Well, always remember to be a hero. I love that. I know I love that. And we'll include that email address and all the information in the show notes, yeah. Sure.

Okay, mine was, my, my listener tale, because I don't like to talk correctly during listener tale. My, my listener tale is that one time I was almost murdered. Okay, mine was mindless in her tale, because I don't like to talk correctly during listening to my listener tale is that one time I was almost murdered. That one time, that one time. So first off, I just want to say that you guys are amazing and listening to you throughout my days has made things so much easier and has brought me out of this weird funk I was finding myself in.

Oh, I'm happy you both. I'm always glad to pull people out of funk. Me too. I'm a nanny and while the baby is sleeping and I'm doing all the mindless tasks around here, laundry, cooking, tidying up, blah, blah, blah. It goes by so much faster and much more entertaining listening to your insanity and banter. And it makes me feel like I'm just hanging out with my bestie talking about fucked up shit. And it's awesome. So thank you for finding your way into my life I even got my wife hooked on our anniversary getaway last weekend. We listened to the three-part fucking Dennis

Bullshit and drive there and back. Ha ha ha. So romantic. So romantic. I love love. That made me feel good Thanks for finding your way into our lives. Seriously. Thanks to all of you for that. Thank you. So anyway, onto my story. Use my name if you want. It's okay. The case has already been to court and has been closed and the dude is in jail. So we are jumping into my delorean.

Is that what you say? Yes, I love that you just said to asset. That's like a back to the future car, right? Yep, cool. That's like a back to the future car, right? And going back all the way to the year 2000. I said a bit. Oh, wait, that's 3000, never mind.

17-year-old me and my two friends, Beth and Mary, I did go ahead and change their names because I don't talk to them anymore, and I don't know if they would want their names to be out there with this. All right, Beth and Mary. Yeah, Beth and Mary, it is. Well, they were driving around the back roads

of Lebanon, Ohio, around 10 o'clock at night, jamming out to System of a Dawn. Tori Amos. Oh my god, System of a Down-Ash. What? Oh, I don't know. System of a Down. You're so young.

I know. I know Tori Amos. Tori Amos. System of a Dawn. Min. Oh my god. Nudge and nails. What the fuck? I gotta get outta here!

I didn't know that you could have breathed. I could have get an old person. Give me an old person. Okay, she had said, Nylon Snails, I know who that is. N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N- I'll just get it in top. You see, but Paui. Any, any DeFranco? Yes. Okay. Thanks a lot for this, Carrie. Oh, man.

So, they were listening to a lot of old people. We may have made a lot of smoking a bit of Mary Jane. See, now you're talking Mary Jane as well. We literally had no destination. Just drive around until 12 a.m. Curfew at my house as the girls were sleeping over at my house that night. And we wanted to stop at Duncan Donuts for some blueberry donut. Oh, best.

Before we headed back to, so we were in my car and I had been doing the driving. And at the time, Beth and I were dating, but Mary had been in the front seat with me all night. We decided to switch her on seats. Beth was going to drive and I was going to ride, and Mary was gonna be in the back seat. So along this very, very dark, isolated road, we were looking for a decently safe place to pull over and do the exchange. I finally saw a little pull-off and a street lamp, so I pulled over, uh, along this very, wait, sorry, so I pulled over. We all got out of the car, and as soon as we were all walking to our new seats, we heard a male oh fuck

Fuck a male voice. We heard a male voice yell help me. Please someone help me. Oh, no No, I won't us being stones dumb teenagers jump back in the car and drove off as fast as we could good We discussed smart should we go back? No, should we check on him? No, this is me answering you Discuss smart should we go back? No, should we check on him? No, this is me answering you But the issue was and maybe call someone yeah definitely call someone But the issue was and the problem we all felt what we heard was the male voice sounded so calm sounded so monotone so much so very much not in need of help. Oh Gross, I think that sounded more like a trap to get three teenage girls to come over down to the ditch. You are right.

I'm glad that you didn't. We were totally freaked out, chilled to the bone, scared shitless. We drove back to my house and complete silence. I was just gonna say, I hope you stopped to get your blueberry donuts, but you literally told me, never even stopped for our blueberry donut holes.

That makes me sad. I'm disappointed in you, little stoners. Also, on the way to our virtual live show today, we're getting blueberry donut holes. Fuck yeah, we really needed that. No, no, no, we're not getting blueberry donut holes. That makes me sad. I'm disappointed in you, little stoners. Also, on the way to our virtual live show today, we're getting blueberry donut holes. Fuck yeah, we really needed that. No, no, no, we're not getting blueberry donut holes. We're getting donuts. We're getting donuts.

Good, good, good, good. Fuck the world. Good, good, good. Fuck the world. We went to sleep and woke up the next morning and got some coffee, and I hope some fucking donut holes. And we went and joined my mom in the living room where she was watching the news.

Big story of the morning. A car fire on the road we were on the night before, but not just a car fire. A car fire with a body inside. We freaked out. Was it the man who was calling out for help? Could we have saved him? We told my mom everything that happened and she had us call the police. After what felt like hours and hours of questioning and days and days of waiting for any kind of answers,

it turned out that no, it wasn't a man in that burnt car. It was a young woman. She was shot to burn to tell what else happened to her. They put the time of the car fire to have started around 10.45 pm, 45 minutes after we spent all of it. Holy shit, so it was totally the killer. Yup, 100%.

100%. Also, who does that to somebody? That's so much fun. I knew it was that to somebody ever. But especially at random. Oh, and he was literally trying to lure them down the ditch. Right, holy shit.

Our gut instinct was right. We were being lured over there to a ditch, most likely to our death. And our instincts told us something wasn't right, and we left. Good for you. And I believe this to be the day that it saved our lives. They were eventually able to find the guy, thank God. We had to give our testimony in court, something about putting him there earlier than he says, squashing his alibi. So that's my fucked-up story about how I was almost

a murder victim. Wow. I would like to thank, though, if things had not worked out in our favor, you all would have done an episode on me What too weird? Keep it weird. Carrie. I won't say your last name. Honestly, never too weird. Never too weird Never too weird, but I'm real glad that we're doing a listener tales episode from your point of view and not a tale about me too And I'm also so glad that you remind me about blueberry donuts. Wow. You know, blueberry coffee is a thing too. Yeah, it is It's a thing too. Yeah, it is. It's a little too sweet, sure.

It is. Hey there, fellow podcast listener. It's Elena. And Ash. And we're taking you back to the days before streaming services. Whoa. You know, when you would come home from high school,

and it was only a few hours until that TV show, everyone was watching was about to come on. Well, in 1999, that show was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. In our podcast with Wondery, the re-watcher Buffy the Vampire Slayer, we take it back to 1999. So get out your knee-high boots and paste that poster of Angel on the Wall. It's time to enter the Buffyverse. Some of you avid morbid listeners already know what we've gotten store.

Hey, we're no- Join us, as we sway our way through Buffy's drama, action, and romance, episode by episodes. Slacy, follow the rewatcher, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen early and add free on the Amazon music or Wondery app. Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un music. I share a quick 10-minute rundown every weekday on the motivations and behaviors of the criminal masterminds you read about in the news. I have decades of experience as a psychiatric nurse,

FBI agent, and a criminal profiler. On Killer Psychie Daily, I'll give you my expert perspective on cases like the mysterious New York City drugings, Breaking Down Lori Vallow, a.k.a. Mommy Doom stays motives, and what drove Caitlin Armstrong to murder? I'll also bring on expert guests who add even more insight into these criminal minds. I promise you won't regret adding these 10 minutes to your morning routine. Hey Prime members, listen to the Amazon Music exclusive podcast Killer Psychie Daily in the Amazon Music app. Download the app today. Alright, let's see what the next one we're gonna get. It starts off with Yo-Fam and I feel like I love that.

It was Yo-Fam. So this one is called a plague doctor and his cursed right foot. Cursed? His cursed right foot. The cursed right foot. NINNIN cursed. NIN right foot. Ninn in cursed. Ninn For what to you by Ninn You're gonna tell John that as soon as we go downstairs 100% you will live with that till the day you die

I have though among many others. So it says yo fam heart emoji. No, no, no Not heart emoji old school heart with the fucking Less than sign and then the three. You know what? I'm gonna go ahead and say that. Ash is really shaming us all here because I call that an emoji. They didn't even do that like Alt 3. No, and you know what? I appreciate that. So thank you, fellow old.

I do too. So here I am. Just having finished the Dibbick box thingy episode, whilst yeating garbage into the void of a compactor that is my livelihood. And I think to myself, yeah, I've died a few times. Let's send my life summary to podcast weirdos who can get a chuckle from a fellow basement goblin. I'm obsessed with you. I love you.

Oh, but before I delve into the what the fuck that is, Quinky Diggs, feel free to use my name and stuff and butcher what Eves has written here for your own means. I probably look because you write really fun. Okay, so the title header, that's a thing, right? Well, long story short, I became a reny Renaissance fair enthusiast over the course of my youth and fell head over heels for the plague doctor aesthetic. Same, not with the Renfair stuff, like do you? I was gonna say why are you lying to everyone right now? Lake doctor aesthetic? I would live as a plague doctor if I could. Yeah, I have a mask in my living room. I find that

disturbing. It's amazing. So dank basements of stone, buying cursed paintings from antique shops and hoarding all the books, bottles, and knowledge I could get my grubby little crafters claws on related to the Spooky Arts. Ironically, I had just finished my first plague doctor get up, as of October 2009. Then, Corona hit. And yes, all of my outings were in garb. I think my favorite reaction was a child running around a corner in Walmart and nope to the fudge right out of there, only to be egg-drawn by siblings to go say hi to the spooky birdman. The parents were busting a gut and I loved it. At one point, several friends attended a protest and I decided to load up on wipes and candy

to hand out as the Hufflepuff mom friend. This is the way. FYI candy was black licorice in a jar labeled leeches. How dare you say that you handed out candy? That is not correct. When you actually handed out nasty. You handed out the black death. That's exactly what that was. You were playing Dr. Handing Out the Plague.

Black Licorice is like, eat that into the girl in the disposal. It was a liberating experience, to offer a small bit of levity in an ever-growing intense situation. I like the way you were looking at it. I know. I'd like to think I helped in some small way. Every chuckle is progress. Oh. That's your right. But yeah, so I died, like twice, both from bleeding out. Nice egg, I know. Alrighty. I've had some 16 major injuries in my life, all being my right foot. foot weird and the only hiccup otherwise would be when I snapped my arm

Like a quick scan me, but that was a boys will be boys hijinks involving jousting with pool noodles on bicycles wearing roller blades while playing basketball That's exactly how it sounds. Yep. Hold on. I need to read that again with jousting with pool noodles on bicycles wearing roller blades while playing basketball. Boys will be boys man. Wow. So it says rabbit braining back to death. So the first time I died was when my family was out swimming with distant cousins we no longer speak to because reasons. I love you. I love you. And a six-year-old me is jumping off the dock, having a hoopla of a time. When I notice all the adults have a grand old hissy fit screaming and looking behind me. Now be being the Sherlock that I am. I turn around to look at what they were gawking at.

To see a scene from Jaws, Hershey squirting several yards behind me into a lovely cone of gore in my wake. Now my seven-year-old brain be thinking shucks. Oh shit, I can't read it, sorry. My seven-year-old brain be thinking shirks are eating me, and in the unlikely chance that I survive, I'll be grounded for weeks for forgetting myself, forgetting myself almost eight. You're gonna get grounded for being eaten by a shark almost? Yeah, a cute panic attack and blackout. The next thing I remember are fuzzy memories of being in a bathtub with my blood everywhere,

full on psychostreams up the wall and everything, fade to a long bumpy ride and a wee woo-wag and fever dreams of loved ones screaming at each other that I'm going to die or something to that effect. My next cohesive moments are several days later chilling in a hospital bed with my new best friend, Mr. Rat, a plushie. The story from my fam is that my crazy bird on, bad bitched out after she found us all trying to first date in the bathtub of the beach house, and she vendisled our way back. The long trek back to civilization, at least as much sooner as my mom's minivan would have allowed.

The scary part of this is that we were hours away from any town, with more than a pallblart-esque medical facility that could hardly handle boo-boos, let alone geyser foot and soccer on its rage. So were you bit by a shot? I don't do that to figure out. Like what? Something happened. That, and there was a 10 mile stretch of construction.

Because, of course, there was. Luckily, my aunt knows of the secret lane and spat dust down the shoulder, resembling the flood scene from Ponyo. But were you eaten by a shark? Do you have your leg still? I need, I have questions that need answers. After a short-lived cup of cup of chase,

she pulled over, leaped out, yelled something about a child bleeding to death, well covered in blood, and then glared them into becoming her escort and got us to the hospital in time. Mostly I would say, but did I die? Except I did. What? What happened? It technically died.

Yeah, it sounds like there was an actual shark. What? Uh, uh, wasn't there? To see, yeah, see, uh, well, it sounds like it's just some happened to your foot. I don't know, something happened. So let's see, fast forward a decade and three years of being a squire for local renaissance equestrian guilds, I am a goat faced man child. I think my four shaggy hairs are cool. I like to go to her assemble and have just been elected as King of the fairies due to being the sole male that entered the content. What the fuck is your life? I love it! I mean, I mean, that in like the best way. I love it.

It's great. You are awesome. Chalo victory, but my ego will take it with pride. Good for you. I would too. I am thereby gifted with a basket of gift from this fairy blossom reward ceremony for the royalty. This event was fantasy themed, highly recommend. And in said basket was an assortment of fruits, coupons for various vendors, honeys, and a freaking knife, but that'll come back into the story later.

I love like, like, nicely made honey. And then he just said, okay, it's later. So the fair wrapped up. My night lost his jost, but won the sword fights. And the merchants and fairgoers have all were all leaving. Leaving just myself the equestrian manager and the other squires in the middle of an empty field,

waiting for word. If we were meeting the rest of the gang to so go see Mad Max, Fury Road in theaters or hitting a cracker barrel for dinner first, you know, Renfers things. Both would happen, but sadly it wasn't meant to be. And so while we were waiting, I'm sitting in the truck carving

into an apple with my new knife, and I set the knife on my lap and forgot about it, stress memories intensify. Well, a few minutes go by and we get the call. So I turned to hop out of the rig and everything went slow motion. Guys the knife leapt from my lap, some resulted and hit the ground right as my foot came down with the full weight of my body driving the forehand shaft into my foot completely vertical. I have to go. Big outch energy here. A lovely picture of the end result is attached below. You're welcome. I'm scrolling down.

I'm totally gonna look at it. It's a real vent. Oh, that's foul. That is absolutely motherfucking foul. Oh fuck. Can we post? I feel like this person would not care. If we post it, I feel like you wouldn't care. I really feel like you wouldn't care.

We're posting. That's literally just going to be the trigger warning. Yeah. Luckily, the manager's day job is a nurse of 20 plus years, like all things considered it was the best case scenario for me to die in. Panicked, I did the worst thing possible, and pulled the knife from the wound. Cue immediately fountain spurt, spilling with my heartbeat

from the two-inch slit in my boot, not a good. Not a good? Not a good. I dropped to the ground like a turnip head. Like the turnip head I am, and ripped off the boot, having watched all the murder medical dramas, I went straight to applying pressure to the wound, to learning the confused squires in my manager

about the blood guys are erupting from my foot. That by now, I was becoming far, far too familiar with. One squire went pale, and with quick thinking, pulled off his belts and, oh good, and started to turn a kit my leg while the nurse manager kept me sane and distracted the nurse manager. But high key, y'all, I be mad sweating right now just recalling the event. Brain voodoo is some mad stuff. Can we live the pain if you think about it enough? True story. Months later, when I was finally recovered enough to drive,

I about flipped my jeep thinking I had a vein rip the pain was so real back to dying. So yeah, we rip into the local hospital, me being honeymooned by one squire while my boss and the other one are keeping me from bleeding out in the entrance to be welcomed by the most disinterested nurse on the planet. But she saw the blood and let us to a room and then just left. After a very long while, I was getting rather pale and my boss was quite livid as she went

after anyone to help. Eventually the nurse returned, having been goaded to prioritize this and was all, so how's the flow? And all I can think of is, like I was stabbed by a knife. She was not amused and she'd the square hand away but pulling back the sock clot. Y'all her eyes bloated to saucers at the gush and moved like lightning to the big old red help button they keep on the wall. Apparently I may have severed my artery like in two completely and did a hell a lot of other damage and her

enter fill swift quote and yeah shit got intense after that. But the drugs were lit, so there's that. They ended up having to crimp off each side of the artery. You could have, you did die, like that is dying. So my body had to grow new root veins or something. Either way, the healing process was like a combination of wiggle worms under the skin and pins and needles. Oh god. From there, I have a lot of vague memories. Asking to hold one square's hand crying, thinking I was going to die again, joking with the nurses that they can take the legs

so long as I don't have to pay, I wasn't joking. But the strongest memory was the cold. Now, I'm a big boy from the north, so I'm good with the cold most of the time, but this was different. I was like standing in a barren winter wood. The cold's biting your flesh into alabasca silk. Beautiful.

You paint with words. The kind that doesn't go away willingly. I don't know how else to describe it. When you're so cold, everything feels smooth and painful. I do know that cold. Did you almost die? Yeah, you almost died. I did.

I don't know. Super Spookooksville 10 out of 10 don't recommend that's actually a really great way to say it needless to say I've lived an interesting life yeah could go on for hours about fairs pranks and world exploration Australia's sick totes go but we will keep to the spook spook themes and maybe and okay maybe my deaths hardly count as they were only seconds but any good story is worth over-embellishing, right? So long as it's tasteful, at least, or tactful, eh.

But as for other injuries, they ran from drop mason jars that bounce shatter shrapnel, old barn would hit an under hay, getting caught in between sandals, causing the worst grouping of splinters, finding any and all needles, Legos go for holes that ever existed, and stubbing my toes a gazillion times a week. Minor injuries abound, but I think it's a severe lack of injuries anywhere else that makes this really weird for me. Thinking about why or how I could perceivably be cursed,

maybe because my initials are M-A-L, but much doubt. I bet I'm missing out on a super bomb-ass story my gramps is holding out on me with. I could have demon ninja grudges for all I know. Man, what a tale I could have told. Well, I hope this randomness that is my spur of the moment at 2.23 am while guzzling Gin Martini's energy all for a smidge. It did. Got lots of wild entails in me, but sadly not much spook pass these. So, thanks for reading and keeping it weird. But not so weird that you obsess over being a plague doctor, but I really just a goat and a trench coat trying to be cool enough for the turtle club and not so weird that your right

foot becomes a knife magnet and you bleed out every once every 12 years and are encroaching on that time of the decade again. Okay, bye. PS maybe I should just make chain mill socks. Hmm, maybe that's a good idea. That is a good idea. PPS new fan goal shoot. Few fan girl sh' sh-sticks to get out can leave out or mush in if you all use this furtail one day. I'm a groundskeeper and work with a very large compactor. The compactor case you covered has brought me a few concerns to my attention.

And now I peek in every so often, just in case. But for reals, I love the show and I'm now caught up and up and look forward to more interesting sputics to bother my co-workers about. I love this. What else did I say? My initials are M-A-L and rolling into the plague doctor vibe to eventually have skits and want not to educate peeps that's fair and sell nerdy ass bottles of Gatorade and is low, low key my dream. So excuse the bad joke, but my handle is malls practice.

Oh my god, I know. I'm gonna L is malls practice. Oh my god, I love that. I'm gonna let us underscore practice. I was a leather worker for most of my life. A square blue collar, everything, and all around weirdo with Bart and her cheek. I love it. I apologize for the rabbit brain email thingy,

but I failed English class, so won't want. Okay, I'm no writer, and it's nearly watching our, and my gin is done. So been fun, ladies, and I'm done proofread, and I'm off to die till tomorrow. Rest well and hydrated, you're weirdos and keep it wild. Well, you hydrate though. You are.

Wild. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything.

Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything.. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Yeah. So you're amazing. That was so scary. That gym fueled rampage was everything we needed in our lives.

I loved that. I mean, I always write us with a gym fueled rampage. I think that's like my inner, that sounded like a lot like my inner monologue. That was great. It was. It really was. Wow.

Wow, it's that it's over to be honest. I am too. But I am excited that the next listener tale is my family and the Manson family. Sure is. I'm so ready. I'm wrecked is my family and the Manson family. Sure is. I'm so ready. I'm wrecked.

My body is ready. Hey, fam, I wanted to write this email since I was in eighth grade, but because you weren't podcasting in 2003, how old is I in 2003? Wow, that was the year before I graduated high school. So I was seven. Wow. Cool. So since we weren't doing that in 2003, yeah, I've followed on to it since now.

My dad is a baby boomer and grew up in San Jose in the 1950s and 60s. Back then his neighborhood was full of date orchards and his neighbors next door were bass at Hound breeders. The puppies were super groovy. Goofy. I'm like really in the Manson flow of things. Super groovy puppies, man. Wow, those puppies are far out.

So groovy. The puppies were super goofy. And would adorably trip over all their own ears. Oh my god, shut up. The family next door had three kids and the middle daughter was in my dad's class. Who was this girl next door with the cute puppies? Was it Alicia Kuthbert?

Hit the girl next door, that's a movie. Yeah. Nope. I got it. I got your child. Old. Nope. It was Susan Atkins. I got that. You got that. This is soon to be member of the Manson family. Fast forward to 2018, my dad's 50th High School reunion was this year and he reconnected with some of his classmates. Did they all sit around and gossip about what happened to Susan Atkins? You know it, shall ya? The Lee High School class of 1968

were all a bunch of murderinos, especially my dad's friend Deb, who kept a copy of her eighth grade yearbook. Like the rest of the eighth graders, Deb passed around her yearbook, passed her yearbook around the classroom and had each of her classmates sign it. When the book was passed back to Deb

at the end of the period, Susan Atkins had signed it too. Deb. And not only did classmates sign it. When the book was passed back to Deb at the end of the period, Susan Atkins had signed it too. Deb. And not only did she sign it, she used her pen to scratch big X's over Deb's eyes in her yearbook photo. Wow. Susan. I'm not saying that was a red flag,

but I'm not not saying that. You can say it. I hope you guys keep slaying the podcast game. I'm torn up that I didn't get to listen to your podcast when I lived in Boston, RIP. Keep it weird, but not so weird that you join the most ever Miss Cult in the history of Infamous Cults. Mikaela. Oh my God Mikaela. I wish Deb had a picture of her your book. I know I want to hear it. I want to hear it. I want to hear the picture. I want to see it. I was just reading.

All right, let's see. That was a really good one. I loved that. I can't believe she scratched out X's over her eyes already. In eighth grade. I mean, like, that's a situation. She was messed up. That's a real situation. She was messed up and then she found another messed up people. Right, the next one I am going to do is listen her tales. I was almost kidnapped.

Uh-oh. Hello, amazing ladies. Hello to you. Hey. My name is Alia. I want to start off by saying I love almost kidnapped. Uh-oh. Hello amazing ladies, hello to you. Hey. My name is Alia. I want to start off by saying, I love your podcast. I listen on my long-ass drive to work every morning, and I love your banter and the cases you cover.

I find myself laughing and shitting my pants at the same time, but I'll live for it. I wanted to share my story about a time I was almost kidnapped in a sushi place, parking lot, in East Long Meadow, Massachusetts. Oh shit, we have family from there. Another Western mascot. Okay, here we go.

Buckle up, bitches. I'm buckled up. Click. I got off work at like 9.15 pm and I was like, wow, a bitch could really use some sushi right now. Are you asked? You just spoke to my mother fucking soul. Is your thing, that?

Also, I think I'm gonna get sushi today instead of donuts. So I ordered at this place down the road, and I went to go pick it up. I secured the precious package, and as I'm walking by Fata, all the way across the parking lot, I see a van turn its lights off, and I hear door close, NBD, I keep walking.

I'm almost to my car, and I hear a man's voice say, ma'am, you dropped some cash. Don't care, bye. Don't care, you can keep it. It's fine. Me being hell-assus was like, nope, not mine. I, you dropped some cash. Don't care, bye. Don't care, you can keep it. It's fine. Me being hell of suss was like, nope, not mine. I don't ever carry cash. His response was, I saw it fall from your purse.

It has to be yours. So I was like, dude, not, keep it. Merry Christmas, pal, goodbye. You are. He got closer to being said, I wouldn't feel right keeping it. Here, please take your money. And at this point, my blood is lava. And I have my keys gripped ready to throw hands. I begin to walk faster and the dude matches my speed towards me.

I immediately screamed and set my car alarm off good for you. And ran like the fucking wind towards my car. This man ran to my car too and slammed his hands on my window, called me a skank and told me to open my doors. Who even says the word skank and told me to open my doors. Who even says the word skank and you are you? Get the fuck out of here. I ripped out of the parking lot and drove 9,000 miles home and called the police, etc, etc. A scariest moment of my entire life

and I would not be here if I hadn't gotten some real good advice on how not to be murdered from your podcast. Ash and Alaina told me, don't trust anyone, get away from me. Yes! Literally. We are here to tell you everyone, stop. from your podcast. Ash and Alaina told me don't trust anyone, get away from me. Yes. Literally. We are here to tell you everyone. Stop.

Don't trust anyone, get away from me. Anyway, I love you guys, keep doing all the good stuff you do, and obviously keep it weird. But not so weird that you walk up to random women and try to tell them they drop money, even though they know they don't actually carry cash. You cock breath, meanie. You cock breath, meanie.

Ew. That's amazing, and I am so glad you are alive, Alia. Seriously, you killed it, you did all the right things. And I hope you enjoyed your sushi. I do too. Once you're adrenaline one time. I do. Cause we know an adrenaline crash is tough.

Alright, my next one is called Always Use the Goddamn Motherfucking Buddy System. Okay? Okay. And what good advice that is. And also, this is Halle and she's the funniest writer ever. I love it. So, hey weirdos, I'm Halle. Like, Halle Berry. Like, Harry Berry.

Like, Harry Berry. Like, Mary Berry. Like, Halle Berry. I've been binging your podcast hard for the last few months because I fucking love it. I love that you offer a variety of morbid shit and not just true crime because I am also said to be spupi and strange and unusual as well. So thanks for bringing all of us weirdos together. Aww. You're so sweet. I listen to listener tales and think about my freakyest moment by far and my long-ass 26 years of living, so I figured I'd shoot my shot and write in.

Anyway, let's dive into the story. I must first preface this by saying that I have an awesome mama who also loves all things serial killer and spupi, and have had a lot of paranormal experiences in life, but we will save that for another tale. With that being said, I also learned a lot about serial killers and how to protect myself, but I never thought I would need to use any of this bizarre knowledge. I hope my kids have the same kind of knowledge. I mean, they definitely do. They hope I succeed in that.

They have both of us, so. Yeah, that's true. They're good. I'm just gonna like pat us on the back row. They're good. I grew up in the middle of Bumfuck, nowhere, Iowa, where the number of livestock literally outnumbers the number of people. That's amazing.

That is incredible. I grew up in the country and lived there for 19 years before I finally was brave enough to move 25 minutes away to the crime and bar riddled town of Fort Dodge. Fort Dodge is an old river town with tons of bars, a community college that I attended and tons of fun stuff and tons of stuff to do. But just like any bigger town, Fort Dodge always gets a bad rep. I mean, some of its nicknames are Fort Dirty, Dirty Dodge, and Lil Chicago. Well Chicago. Like Lil Chicago. But just like any town, it has great people and a community that really can come together and bring out the best in people. But I digress. I was 20 when my best friend at the time and I considered looking at places to move in together around Fort Dodge. When house hunting, we also considered some very important things,

meaning how close we were to our friends and how close we were to the bar. So the nearest bar, a huge selling point to the apartment was that we had a bar almost in our backyard, and some of our closest friends lived only three blocks away. That sounds terrible. Look at the light. What? What? A bar in your backyard?

No, thank you. Yeah, but when you're like 20, I think even at 20, I would have been like, no, thank you. Wow, we're the most different people that ever existed. I would have been like, fuck yeah! Well, they except my fake ID! This was awesome because they always, they always threw some crazy ass parties.

And we could just always walk home if we got too some crazy ass parties, and we could just always walk home if we got too crazy. So one night I did just that. It was a normal Sunday summer night when I got off of work, and my friends asked me to come over for some cards against humanity, and a couple drinks. I made some ball-mass chicken alfredo, threw it in a bowl, grabbed my keys, phone charger, and my, just in case I ever have to stab a motherfucker knife, and walked walked happily to their house where my roommate and all of my other friends were. It was still light out at this point and there were a ton of people around, a ton of people out and

about so I didn't think anything of it when I decided to walk after all their, oh when I decided to walk after all their house was three blocks away. My roommate had to be home before 10 to get ready for her grown up job the next day, but me being the, me being the degenerate dumpster fire that I was in my early 20s stayed until 4am. This is very relatable. I was literally just thinking about, but I was like, I'll let Ash say it.

I like just got out of my dumpster fire face. Cause you know what, I, I just need to clarify, like in my 20s, I would go to bars, but I would not want one in my backyard. Yeah. Cause I don't want to like, like in my 20s, I would go to bars, but I would not want one in my backyard. Yeah. Because I don't want to like drunk people in my backyard. In my 20s. Yeah.

I just want to clarify that I'm not a total whip right? Like, it was. I just was a drunk person all the time in my early 20s, so like I wanted other me, I would want other me's in my backyard. Yeah, you would. And I feel like I kind of had other me's in my backyard. So anyways, we decided to call it a night, and I gathered my things.

My guy friends wanted to walk me home, but they were just as plastered as me, and I really didn't want them to walk me home. I was in that strong independent woman that don't need no man phase. That's a great phase. It is. It was only three blocks away after all.

Everything was normal for the first block. Just your usual siren and cricket sounds in the night. I didn't see anyone else out on the roads or sidewalks for the first block or so, but I stayed vigilant at all times. I was naive of the city and evil people, but not stupid. That was when I saw a man on the other side of the street. Uh-oh. Not good. The man was on his cell phone and going the opposite direction of me, but as I said, Mama prepared me for times like this. So I took mental note of what I could make

of his, uh, make out of his face and what he was wearing. I opened my knife and I had 911 ready to call when he looked up and noticed me. This was her. She's really on it. I know I love that she did that. I definitely was not this smart. There's many times that I should have died. Yep. This is when my freak vlog went offline. He started to pick up his pace and even turned around going in the same direction as me, still not super weird as he was still across the street for me. That's when he hung up his phone and started running toward me at full goddamn sprint. At full goddamn sprint.

No, bye. No. I kicked off my sandals and started to run. Good. Like I said, my mom didn't raise you dummy. No she dumped me. I mean, that my dad only had us two girls. I knew how to fight. Yes, girl. I love this girl.

I love you, Hallie Berry. Your parents did so well. They did. Wow. He was running so fast that he dropped his phone in the middle of the street and had to go back for it. Wow. I was more than ready to stand my ground and stab this dude.

And maybe even possibly kick him in the dick or stab him right in the eyes. But I thought about how boring court rooms are. How much this she is me. How boring court rooms are and how much time it would take out of my drinking schedule if I had to go to said boring court room for stabbing this low life. So I kept running as fast as I could, which wasn't super fast. I had put on some weight from all the booze and half price per cons appetizers after nine. This is my early 20s. I could hear that he was just right behind when I finally made it to my apartment.

I threw my knife down and locked the door in a yelled for my roommate, and sure enough, about two seconds after I locked the door and yelled for her, he was this nasty, sweaty dick bag was knocking on my door demanding that I open it. What the fuck? You think she's gonna open the fucking door? For real? He heard my dog barking and losing his shit at some point, so he just ran away.

We called the cops immediately and I gave them my description. My friend was on the force at the time and stayed with us when he heard it was my address. He brought back my sandals to me. And three other cops set out to find this nasty dick bag Sure enough, they found him in an alley just chilling a few blocks away from my apartment He had a warrant out for his arrest on a domestic violence and a drug charge so they arrested him ASAP My friend and I finished our lease with no other issues It didn't really do much to traumatize me, but my dog still has really bad anxiety

when anyone is at the door and he can't see me. What a dog. He's like, oh, the best. That night taught me to always be aware of your surroundings and always use the goddamn motherfucking buddy system. Yes. Honestly, sorry this was so long and super random at times. If you spoopy goddesses read this all the way through

Thank you so much. Keep doing what you're doing you guys literally make my day with every episode and remember keep it weird But not so weird that you're a drunken degenerate dumpster fire of a girl that stays out way too long playing cards against Humanity with a friends until 4 a.m. and then mock someone because you don't need no man And then she gets to say so by a sweaty criminal bag Criminal dick bag, don't keep it that weird bite. Oh my God, I love it. That was amazing. That was incredible. Why are you guys so fucking hilarious?

That's what I need to know. You guys, the way you guys write is just perfect. And you're just, you're smart. You are. And I appreciate that one. To get out of your sandals, that's smart. That's smart. Dial 911 like you got all the details of his face real quick. You took out your phone, you pretended that you were talking to someone that's smart. That's smart. Dyle and I won one like a lot of weight. You got all the details of his face real quick You took out your phone you pretended that you were talking to someone that's smart. It is. You really?

I mean and look when the cops came you were able to give a description and they found a boom roasted you were on it He was boom roasted man. I love you guys. I love you. So I think the last one we have is called an intruder a gun and my half-naked husband Uh-oh Hello morbid mamas babes of bad assery sisters of spook is called an intruder, a gun, and my half-naked husband. Uh-oh. Hello, morbid mamas, babes of bad asseries, sisters of spook. Wow. I'm obsessed. Wow. Thank you. I love you. My name is Courtney. Feel free to use my name. Thank you, Courtney.

Thanks, Courtney. Before I begin, I want to be cliche, although always warranted, and profess my love for y'all, I've been listening to your podcast for about a year, and I feel like I'm just chilling with my girlfriends when a new episode drops I love when people say that. That's the best compliment of all time. Honestly, that is the best compliment because that's exactly how we feel. Yes I even turned my husband into a weirdo and he's a particularly picky podcast person. Ah, I love an alliteration. Yay I love that my babes three and five. Yes, even birth even bust outhes many more bit intro when they know I'm listening. Oh my god. Yes. You take me away from my daily Monday routine and the

way y'all tell stories advocate for victims and research or topics is so admired and much appreciated. You just, you know what? This has been a long week and you just, that really just gave me some feels. It did. So here goes my tale of the Spook Spook in my life. I'll try not to ramble, but let's be real. Probs won't happen. Anywho, my little fam and I live in a small, Mayberry-esque town in eastern Pennsylvania, about an hour outside of Philly.

I say this because where we live, there's essentially no crime, and walking down the street is like walking into cheers. Everybody knows your damn name. So flash back to 2015, my husband was working middle shift in a warehouse, coming home between 11 and 12 each night. Oh, I know, I break your rules,

but at the time I would sleep on the couch until he would come home each night. Yeah, I'm a fucking mother, mother hand, clock, clock. Honestly, I do the same thing. If Annie goes somewhere at night, I wait up for her on the couch, but I wait up, end up sleeping. So in the middle of the night,

I hear my back door knob being twisted, thought nothing of it. Knowing Zach, you can use this name as well, was coming home. But for some reason, the knob just kept being jiggled, and he wasn't coming in. Our doors are old AF and often stick, so I was about to go let him in, but before I did,

I quickly peered at my phone to check the time, 3 AM. My stomach about fell out of my ass. He had to have been home already, and I slept through it. That wasn't fucking him at the back door. I quickly opened my front curtain to see if his truck was parked out front. And damn it to shit, there it was. I channeled my inner U-Sane bolts and darted up the stairs to wake him up. There he was asleep snoring like a damn bear getting into that precious rim cycle. I flipped on the lights, hopped on the bed, ripped the blankets off and shook

him like a wet dog. Oh my god, yes. Someone is breaking in, I yelled. Huh? He mumbled to still have a sleep. There is someone at the back fucking door. Dude sat up like Billy butchers in his grave. Yes. Grab the gun from a hidden compartment in the bedroom. My six foot 250-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub-hub and I hear him yell, you're messing with the wrong house, motherfucker. That's my man. Yes. Nothing. No one. No one. He came back in. We sat on the couch to cool down and decompress.

And finally, he told me to go to bed and get some rest. We decided to sleep on the couch to play it safe, with the gun right next to him on the end table. I mean, let's be real. I wasn't about to sleep, knowing my luck, some murder, was trying to get into my house. But as I kissed him good night and turned the corner to go upstairs to bed, my front door knob began to turn.

I screamed in an octave. I didn't know was physically possible. And Zach boxers and all undid the deadbolt. I'll shoot mother fucker. He yelled in the door knob, shook again. We don't have a people in the door. So just then he flung the door open. And there stood a, wait for it. Little old lady. Why? Behind her a middle aged woman trembling

as my beastly half-naked husband stood there with a gun. Zach took a deep breath and put the gun down and baffled, asks, what the hell is going on? It's the middle of the night. The middle aged woman asks, do you know her? She says she lives here. She tried getting Oh my god. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone.

She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone.

She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. Luckily, as scared shitless as we were, Hubs was the first responder in training, and he is aware of gun safety and was able to keep control

even in the heat of the moment, good for him. Eventually, the police escorted the geriatric ghoul back to her house where her husband sound asleep had no idea she left. Since then, she has thankfully moved in with other family members who are more able to keep an eye on her and keep her safe. Okay, I was gonna say I was like,

is anybody looking out for this like, I'm glad. This little ghoul. This jar, yeah, that's right. Cool. Thank y'all for taking the time to read my story. Stay bad ass, keeping astounding storytellers, and as always, keep it weird.

But not so weird that, take it away, Ash. Oh man. Okay, hold on, let me look. She can take it away, yeah. She literally did. Okay, but not so weird that you're living in your nice little quiet town where nothing ever happens. And then one night you're sleeping on the couch and you're like, oh my god, my husband's gonna take it away, yeah, she literally did. Okay, but not so weird that you're living in your nice little quiet tower. Nothing ever happens, and then one night you're sleeping on the couch, and you're like, Oh, my God, my husband's gonna come home soon, so I'm gonna sleep on the couch and wait for him,

and then the door starts turning, and oh my God, your husband's already home, and what the hell you have to jump on the bed and wake him up, and he's snoring, and you're like, wake the fuck up, there's somebody breaking into the house, and then he's like, I'm gonna shoot, I'm gonna shoot, well the fuck, I'm gonna fuck him, well the fuck up, and then you hope the door hits an old ass lady, a geriatric Gima. So keep it out weird. Don't keep it that weird. And then you open the door and it's an old ass lady a geriatric Gima Don't keep it out weird. Don't keep it that weird. Oh, exo exo Courtney. I needed those mother fuckers to catch up Well the fuck up guys

Thank you. Thank you for this perfect one-time dog. It truly was this is everything we needed after this crazy week is. Woof! You guys always deliver, you never disappoint. I like that you said after this crazy week, I can see it over. I know, it's almost over, but you know what? We love you, we appreciate you, and you always deliver. And we have had so much fun with you guys this week. We really had as exhausted as we are, it's all been in the name of fun. Oh my god, you know what I remembered? What?

Merch drops today. Oh my god. Do you know what I remembered? What merch drops today? Oh Fuck I forgot let me see if it's live Wow Guys, you know, it's it's been a week. That's all I'm gonna say I just literally looking right now to see if our new merch dropped we're in control of our business We are very out of control. And you know, again, my youngest does not sleep. That's a thing.

Mm-hmm. And so we're working off, I mean, an ashez and slept because of the shows and everything with all the research and all that good stuff. Yeah, I started up, stayed up until four o'clock in the morning, lots of it. So together, we are working off of like,

maybe a minute and a half a sleep. Yeah, just about about. Okay so it looks like nothing has been added yet but merch is supposed to be added later today. Yes. I know that fact. So keep a look out. It's at shop.morbidpodcast.com and the meantime follow us on Instagram at A morbid podcast. I know morbid podcast. God damn. Wow. Hit us up on Twitter at A morbid podcast and send us a Gmail morbidpodcast at gmail. damn. Wow. Hit us up on Twitter at A morbid podcast. And send us a gmail morbidpodcast.gmail.com. Wow, we hope you keep listening. And we hope you keep it weird.

And then I can't do a keeper weird because I have to go take a look. The ladies talk about it. It'll be so much fun. Hey, Prime Members! You can listen to Morvid, Early, and Add Free on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today, or you can listen Add Free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey.