My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 130

Episode Date: July 8, 2019

This week’s minisode features a compilation of stories that inspired Nick Terry’s hilarious animated shorts.Watch: https://www.youtube.com/user/nickterryfilmsSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We at Wondery live, breathe and downright obsess over true crime and now we're launching the ultimate true crime fan experience, Exhibit C. Join now by following Wondery, Exhibit C on Facebook and listen to true crime on Wondery and Amazon Music. Exhibit C. It's truly criminal. My favorite murder in a long jacket. It's our cake cover. We got it. All right, let's get out of here. Steven, did you get that? That was beautiful. We've been recording for eight minutes. Go to my favorite River Instagram to see that video that I'll forget to put up. Karen, I'm so impressed. I don't think I've ever seen you play guitar. Have you not? Oh, except we're on stage. Have I not made you sit in front of me up close while I... Do you know

that? You did. It's called Largo. At the old one. Girls Guitar Club. I one time on The Walking The Room podcast long ago with Greg Barrett and Dave Anthony. At the end of it, Greg wanted me to play one of my songs and they used to record in Greg's upstairs walk-in closets because the acoustics were better and Dave was like, I can't be in here with this and had to get up and leave. Because too loud? No, no, no. It was like too uncomfortable to have to sit next to a person who was going to sing a song. Is it hilarious? Is it weird singing that close to people? It is and I think it's that it's like, it's vulnerable and it makes you feel probably pity for the person that's doing it or like some kind of emotional thing. I get that but only

when they're bad. Like when they're good, I'm like in awe. But if you had to, like you just had to do with me, that would feel bad. But so you made an artistic choice. That's bold. Yeah, thank you. I liked it. How about today you have to sing All The Hometown Murders? Good idea. This is called The Swiss Cheese Pervert. Lighthearted hometown. So maybe a little bouncy. Hi Karen, Georgia. Steven and Elvis and Mimi. My name is Amanda and I live right outside of Cherry Hill, the New Jersey one. I hate, I have so much hate for mistakes. No. No, I say no for that. Nope. No. In early 2014, I was a college student in Philadelphia when a man dubbed the Swiss Cheese Pervert began cruising the streets of Philly. Oh no. In search of a woman to engage in sex acts with him and a slice of

Swiss cheese. Sorry, what? He exposed both the slice of Swiss and his genitals to four different women, all of whom declined. Shocking, I know. Hold on. Yeah, let's question this. He's pulling out his dick. That's a classic move of a pervert. Was that me? That was me. Okay. Because I didn't feel it, so that would have been upsetting. He pulls out his dick, but then he also pulls out a slice of Swiss cheese and shows it as well. I think he's like eh, eh, eh. And like he's hoping some woman's like, oh my God, that's my exact fetish shoe. And I've always wanted to do that, but nobody's ever, like count, you know, we're soulmates. Before the internet. No, 2014. Oh, fuck, dude. I mean, I hate to fucking be gross about this, but as the holes in Swiss cheese,

is that what we're talking about? Oh my God, did he have the Swiss cheese on his penis? Eh? Eh? And she's like, eh? He's like, do you like deli? Okay. Are we talking thin sliced? What are we talking here? Was it a triangle of Havarti? Was it Yarlsburger? Like, are we really going to Swiss town? Are we going to go all the way to Switzerland? Are you going to pay the premium price of Swiss? Or is this some safe way select piece of shit? Thank God Vince hates Swiss cheese. Declined. However, two of the women were able to capture photos of him, not in the like, oh my God. And I'm like, oh my God. I'm sure cheese slices and all. Wait, can I, while you read this, look it up? Yes. The Philadelphia police shared the images. Oh my God, Karen, now. And naturally,

the puns started rolling in. Leave the purve alone. Oh, leave the purve alone. Leave the purve alone. Leave the purve alone. Thank you, honey. I love this. What a monster. Nice. That's my favorite one so far. Cheese is Christ. Classic. And he probably saw this and blew his brains out. B-L-U-E-U. Blew his brains out. Oh yeah. That's a whole different school of cheese, though, from Swiss. Karen. I'm just saying we're not close thematically. What about, let's see, what do we got here? Gouda. Gouda. That's a Gouda looking. Your dick looks pretty Gouda from here. Something like that. There she is. Can I see that? Can you see it? He's sitting in a car. It's so good. He's sitting in a car. He's sitting in a car with a shirt on, but his pants off. He's dangling the

cheese over his dock. This is a very specific thing that happened to him that makes him do this to today. I mean, he's not even creative enough to put his dick through the hole. No, he's just holding the cheese like it's his paperwork that says it's okay for him to show you his dick. It's almost like he's like, hey, come meet this piece of cheese. I'm going to trick you. And the women are like, I'm going to eat the piece of cheese. Oh no, your dick is there. Yeah, like you're a Labrador Retriever where you're like, oh, I love cheese. Uh-oh. There's a pill in this. And it's called your dick. It's called Yiddick. Yiddick? The man was identified and pled guilty to indecent exposure. He had a rest from 2006 and 2009 for similar cheese-related harassment.

No. Several women came forward. I should have read this last. Several women came forward. I get why Stephen wrote lighthearted because he's like, read this last so you're not all depressed. Oh, yeah. Oops. As was our absolute demand last week. Then Stephen, you shouldn't have put it on top. I'm just saying. I'm sorry. I'll read it again at the end. Contact him. Okay. Several women came forward that had contact with him on dating websites where he would message them similar propositions, sometimes going into detail, but the various types of cheese he has masturbated with and his conclusion that Swiss was the best because of the texture and the holes. Can we please get to the holes? Hopefully the Swiss cheese pervert either learned his lesson or found a lady friend

who loves Swiss as much as he does. Neither of those things happen. I guarantee it. Yep. Stay safe out there friends. And remember that cheese is the adult version of candy. Don't accept any from strangers, especially if they have their junk out. Love Amanda. P.S. Your show in Glenside was amazing. I'm still laughing about the 911 cow. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Someone already made a drawing of the 911 cow. The Amish 911 cow. Yeah. Well, I eventually put Glenside out because that was, I think, one of our favorite. Yes. Live shows. Oh my God. This was cheese pervert is now in my, I'd say in my top three. Yeah. I love knowing that that exists. I love seeing a picture of a man. Yep. Sitting in his car. Here's the indignity of it all, which I feel like people maybe not,

they don't think through of, what would this picture look like? What does this look like to the person I'm presenting it to? This is the digital age. Yeah. And so you need to be, at least throw some duck lips out there if you're going to do all the rest of it. But it is, it's just also that slice of Swiss cheese was huge. It was huge. It was really large. Yep. Couldn't say the same for the, his dick, except I wouldn't know because there was a giant star over it. Thank God. It was like a world star star right over that penis. I guess you don't want to think about dick and cheese in the same thing. Dick and cheese. Yeah. Anyway, it's unpleasant for sure. Also, he has kind of a gut, which almost says like, maybe I should get off dairy. Right. You know, maybe there's

something going on. Maybe he's lactose intolerant. What if it's just like helpless to it? He's just like, these are the things I have to have. I mean, I get it. I'm obsessed with cheese. I love cheese. I get it. You know how I am around cheese play. You're kind of a Swiss. I mean, a cheese pervert yourself. I am a cheese pervert. So when my allergist recently told me I had a layoff and I almost punched him in the face, but then he was like, okay, only cow milk. Like he gave me, he knew I couldn't do it. Oh, well, I love goat cheese. That's not the worst news in the world. Goats cheese. What else is there? Buffalo cheese. Velvita. That's not cheese. You're right. You can go right to that. That's fair. With a dairy restriction. Okay. There's no subject

line on this one. But hey, guys, I was backpacking through Thailand last month and met a German tourist who shared a story with me that I thought you'd appreciate. My new German friend was out swimming one day in Khoi Phi Phi. That's a full guest. Sure. Or Khoi Phi Phi. Khoi Phi. Cover all your bases. This is an island on the south end of Thailand. Somewhat later in the evening, suddenly a lady on the beach started shouting about a person floating out in the water that appeared to be drowning. This person was floating just past the buoy line indicating the end of the designated swim zone. I guess my new German friend had some previous lifeguarding experience and decided to be the hero and swim out to rescue him. When he finally reached the person in the

water, he realized that they were blue. Yes, blue. And had a large gouge out of their forehead. The person he had swum out to save was actually a corpse and appeared to have been dead for some time. The German guy dragged the body into shore. Upon further inspection of the corpse, realized he knew the guy. No. Yes, this man was on one of his tour groups only two days earlier. The authorities recalled and it was extrapolated that he was struck in the head by a boat while swimming outside the beach's designated swim zone. Hope you enjoyed this story. Stay sexy and don't swim past the buoy line, Casey. Oh man. Isn't that nuts? That's maybe one of the nutsest we've had. That's so nuts. And what a weird feeling because you only know that person

two days were. Yeah. But you also know them enough as a person to be like, holy good God. And what a bummer way to go, man. Hopefully it was fast. Yeah, and hopefully the boating person didn't know that he had just done that and then just kept boating away into the fucking sunrise set. Did you sorry? Yes. Did you see there's a sidebar article discussion? They just discovered a shark. Oh no. What's going to be? They just discovered a shark in Greenland that's 400 years old. No. And Stephen, please find the picture because it doesn't have any teeth and its eyes are kind of like, what? Like someone kill me please. It looks like a cartoon of a worried shark. And it's one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Just thinking of like horrible ocean things. But there's also some

great things happening in the ocean too. Oh, an old man's shark. I've seen it. There's one picture that's from the teeth. You can see the mouth. He's like enough already. It's a woman, of course. She's like enough already. She's like kill me now. Like 300 years ago I was done with this shit. She's like, no, I can't join Tinder. Yeah, this water tastes like gasoline. Can I get out of here? I swam around with everything. It's not the best. She's like, Trump's president, let me fucking leave this world already. Leave? Why is the one where there's one where it literally looks like someone went and pulled every tooth out of her mouth? He would have a shark without teeth be like you could like it's like a snake without venom.

You'd be like, oh, you're going to bite me? I know. Oh, you gum my arm. You funny little thing. Then you want some applesauce? You're scratching this shark. 400 years old though. That's bananas. The sharks are aliens. Stephen brought up sharks with human teeth. I think it was, I forget, it was the shark tank murder in Australia. Yes. We like threw one of these up on the stage. Just for fun. The best. Listen, they're aliens. That's crazy. Look, listen. Okay. This one is called cat calling arson. Okay. Hi all. Let's just jump in. Yes. Let's learn. So when I was 10, 11 ish, my older cousin and I were at her parents house. It was mid afternoon Sunday and our parents had gone to church to work on some youth event. We live in a fairly

safe small town Southern community in North Carolina. My cousin's house had a large unfurnished basement with sheets hanging up everywhere to separate all the hoarded junk sitting around. That sounds creepy. Hiding their clutter as good as good Southern people do. Nice. Just hanging sheets to hide your hoarding. Just throw up a nice curtain, mid room. It's like a wall. Don't worry about it. Don't even worry about it. I was helping my cousin finish her list of chores and followed her downstairs to take another load of laundry down and grab clothes out of the dryer. The washer and dryer are located in the back of the basement in a large open room. So I'm folding clothes out of a basket and she's at the washer

putting another load. And I hear this whistle. You know that. And then this part speaks to my heart because I can't whistle. So she says, you know that wheat, woot, guys do when they're cockling a lady on the street. And I fucking whoot, that one. I can't whistle. So that's all I would be able to say. Can you? There you go. And it scared both the cats. I think it's way funnier and more attractive thing to just yell, wheat, woot, woot. Just like when I saw the wheat, woot, like typed out, I was like, I know what you're talking about. My cousin is mid sentence. So I look at her and go, how did you do that? And she turns around and says, what? And I'm like, whistle mid sentence. How did you do that? She and I,

she whistles and said, you clearly whistled, not me, to which I deny because I can't whistle. I still can't whistle 15 years later. And then says, I'm sitting on the couch fake whistling to confirm. And as we're looking at each other with our mouths clearly not moving, we both hear the whistle again. Picture in your mind. This time it's so much creepier. Yeah, this time I drop the clothes and run tearing up the stairs with my cousin not far behind me. We run up the stairs shutting the basement door and locking it behind us. Oh, we, Kari, I just put it together like I knew it factually, but I just put it together. They're in a fucking basement. They're in a basement and there's sheets hanging all over hiding shit. And they hear we, you set the whole

scene. And then the second it was the cat calling, you're like outside outside in front of like a scaffolding, like New York City street. They're home alone in a basement in a basement. Okay. Call her dad who laughs as often tell you here is a, we're clearly in panic and comes home from church. He's back within 10 minutes with a crowbar and my dad and toe behind him and they go to investigate. Yeah, dad. Yes, my cousin and I sit upstairs frozen until they call us down to our horror. The basement door that leads to outside is open, which it clearly was not when we were down there. So someone was standing there in the dark behind one of those rooms, curtained off by sheets, whistling at two little girls and high tailed out the door and we screamed and ran out the stairs.

My cousin's house burned down twice after that over a period of seven years. What the fuck? Yeah. The first time, according to firefighters, official reports, the fire started downstairs in the basement in the middle of a concrete floor. How? Ruining all of downstairs and the majority of everything they owned. So they rebuilt and finished the basement. The second fire supposedly started upstairs in a bookshelf and no explanation of how or source, no candles around nothing. Insurance later dropped them because they could not explain how the fire started in suspected arson. Whoa. Needless to say, my cousin and I can't help but feel like that creepy Sunday afternoon whistle had something to do with the fires. Oh, and they're still living in that house.

Stay sexy and if you hear a whistle, run or move, Lauren. Holy shit. How creepy is that? Also, because if it say it just is worst case scenario, it's some sex offender that's like hiding. Yeah, like that's the worst case scenario is a sex offender hiding in the basement where two little girls are fucking doing laundry. But then it would make sense. That's horrible. If that person continues to live and be in that house, that he's a fire stata. Yeah. He's a fire stata. Yeah, he's a stata. Wheat Woo. Mr. Wheat Woo. Oh, Jerry Wheat Woo. He got him jailed six months ago. I'm not going to read you the subject line of this one because it'll give it away. Okay. Hey, Elvis assorted other animals, humans and Steven's mustache. I think actually that's

redundant and Steven's mustache is assorted other animals, but I'm not going to start criticizing right away. I don't know why I've hung on to this story for so long, but since I'm recovering from pneumonia this week, I guess I've got time. Anyway, about 35 years ago, I went to the Oakland zoo with my parents who probably had no business being parents to be honest. I was only five or six, so I don't remember anything about this trip except this. The zoo had a baby hippo named Mugs because he was sponsored. No, what? Sorry. Because he was sponsored by Mug Root Beer. Oh my god, that's the cutest thing I've ever heard. Why did they name him Root Beer? It's like, it's the most uncreative thing. You're just like, Mugs? Mugs for Mug Root Beer. Okay. Luckily it wasn't named

A&W because that would have been confusing, hard for the children. All right. Oh, parentheses. I would love if anybody could confirm that they had a baby hippo named Mugs, but I swear I'm not making this up. Okay, close parentheses. Instagram comments. Yeah. Someone will answer that for you. Somebody might even have pictures. That's right. Because that's what I was looking at before we started. I was trying to make sure there's the Oakland zoo, but then there's also a place in Oakland called Children's Fairyland that is I think 60 years old. Wow. And I couldn't remember if those two things were connected because I don't think I've ever been to the Oakland zoo, but we went to Children's Fairyland many times. That sounds so fun. It is the best fucking place. My sister recently went

there with her class and sent me pictures and all the stuff's the same because it's not brand. So it's just like there's one thing where there's a whale's mouth open and then you walk into the whale's mouth to get to one of the, like to the show area or whatever. I don't remember. I'm into it. Okay. And there's a water fountain that you stick your head into a hippo's mouth to drink water. That's so cute. And that's what made me think of it anyway. Maybe his name is Mugs. Maybe it's Root Beer. It's Root Beer. It's a Root Beer fountain. That'd be amazing if all water fountains at like Children's places like that were just corn syrup. It's just a bunch of tang coming out of his mouth. Okay. Anyway, of course, there were signs that said something like, do not put arms

and legs over the railing of the hippo pen. So of course, what does my dad do? But put me right on the railing with my legs dangling over. I guess nobody knew how dangerous hippos were back then. They absolutely didn't. Really? No. Are they super dangerous? They are super dangerous. They're the number one killer of tourists in Africa or in the Congo or something. Yeah. Wherever people go to look at like animals, you know, in the wild in Africa, they kill tourists the most because people think they're friendly and cute and ballerinas, but they're not. Wait, they're not ballerinas? Sorry. But yeah, you've been introduced to many a cartoon hippo by thinking that it's a big female hippo that also wants to be a ballerina. Isn't that funny and great? No. It's not real. George, I'm sorry.

Wait, listen, because this will make you happy. Okay. Well, mugs being curious and probably hungry came right up to me and swallowed me up to my waist. Oh, dear. I began screaming. My mom began screaming at my dad and my dad started pounding on mugs snout. I distinctly remember being covered in hippo slobber and the feel of the hippo's teeth clamping down on my legs. Everybody is losing their shit now and it seemed like forever, but it was probably only a few seconds. But mugs, who was probably confused as fuck, finally let go of me. I guess I didn't taste too good. The even crazier part was there were no zookeepers around. Oh my God. At least none that I can remember. Totally traumatizing to kid me, but pretty funny now. Anyway, I love you all at MFM. Thanks so

much for the show. Stay sexy and don't get eaten by a baby hippo. James from Oakland. That's bananas. Like, what if it had been a full-grown hippo? I know. What if it had been, I was trying to think of a funny thing instead of mug, like a pint glass. Forget it. A leader bottle? Yeah. No, it's, I mean, if it was a full-grown hippo, that little kid would have been gone, I think. Oh my God. And that poor hippo is like, what are you doing? You're just dangled food into my cage. Yeah, you basically gave me two steaks with some shoes on them. You handed me a snack. What am I supposed to? Now you're hating me about it? You know what? I'm not doing ballet anymore. I quit. I quit. Mom. Goodbye to the nutcracker this year. That's right. You could find

another fucking hippo. Good luck. Just dance your goddamn dance for you. I don't get to eat a five year old if I feel like it. Looking for a better cooking routine? With meal planning, shopping, and prepping handled, HelloFresh has you covered. HelloFresh makes home cooking easy and affordable so you can stay on track and on budget in the new year. HelloFresh meals are convenient, seasonal, and delicious. Stay cozy all winter long with classic comfort foods available weekly. Why stop with just dinner? Now you can enjoy HelloFresh's expanded menu of quick lunch solutions, weekend brunch, simple side dishes, and amazing desserts. Karen, January is going to be my month for HelloFresh. I am so sick of takeout. I miss cooking so much I haven't lifted a knife or a pan

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you hear about in the news. I have decades of experience as a psychiatric nurse, FBI agent, and criminal profiler. On Killer Psyche Daily, I'll give you insight into cases like Ryan Grantham and the newly arrested Stockton Serial Killer. I'll also bring on expert guests to dive deeper into the details, share what it's like to work with a behavioral assessment unit at Quantico, answer some killer trivia, and even host virtual Q&As where I'll answer your burning questions. Hey Prime members, listen to the Amazon Music exclusive podcast, Killer Psyche Daily, in the Amazon Music app. Download the app today. This is called My Mother's Ex-Boyfriend, The Cocaine Cowboy.

Whoa. And then it says, hi. You know when you date someone and break up and run into them years later, only to be like yikes, I really dodged a bullet there? That happened to my mom, except she saw him in a newspaper and he was dead. Oh no. A few months ago, she told me about an ex of hers, Andrew Carter Thornton II, definitely bound to end up as some kind of criminal without name. They were introduced by a mutual friend and started dating. He was dashing, charming, well-educated, successful, worked for the DEA, uh-oh, and took her to great restaurants. That's all I fucking need. That's my only one. Say no more. Ask no questions. Exactly. Things were going well, but then the restaurants became seedier and seedier. He started flaking a lot,

and his stories never really seemed to check out. When she asked what the deal was with that shit, he said he was undercover for the DEA and couldn't be seen out or blow his cover. That's a great story. She didn't buy it and said, buy girl to his shady ass. A few years later in 1985, she saw a headline in the newspaper and then parentheses it says above the fold, quote, she likes to say. Meaning it's like front page report. That's big news. That read, quote, cocaine and a dead bear. Her boy, Andrew, had jumped from his drug smuggling plane. His first parachute hadn't opened for a mysterious and perhaps nefarious reason, we'll never really know. His second clearly hadn't done the job,

and he was found dead in a Knoxville, Tennessee driveway. His crash landing earned him the title of cocaine cowboy. Wow. According to the articles I read and lifted from, he was found wearing a bulletproof vest and Gucci loafers, carrying a browning nine millimeter automatic pistol, a 22 caliber derringer, ammunition, night vision goggles, books with names and codes, thousands of dollars in cash, and six Cougarans and then all caps, treasure, but only six. Yeah. I mean, that's why you fell from the fucking ground. Those things are heavy, right? He sewed them into the lining of his jacket. Yeah. Chaser. He also had food rations and vitamins and a compass, an altimeter, identification papers and two different names, a membership

card to the Miami Jockey Club. What the fuck? And the key to the airplane. Miami Jockey Club, like horse jockeys? I guess. What the fuck? I don't know. Where was, why do you need a compass at the Jockey Club? Like, are you going to the forest? Are you going to Germany? Is that what an altimeter is? I thought, I think it's an altimeter and I also said a compass. Is that why you thought that? But I think altimeters are in planes. I don't, that's my guess. I don't know. Well, I don't never, I don't know. Well, I never told anything of relevant information. And then it says, oh, also 77 pounds of cocaine or literally millions of dollars,

you know the basics. Yeah. A few months later, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation reported that a dead 175 pound bear was found among 40 open containers of cocaine matching the packaging used by Thornton. Oh no, the bear OD. That poor, this is that poor bear at OD on the cocaine and had presumably been thrown from the plane mid-flight because it was carrying too much weight. Wait, no. Let me read that again. Bear was there. That poor bear had OD on the cocaine that had presumably been thrown from the plane mid-flight because it was carrying too much weight. He's, he's going down his checklist. He's like, Cougarans, check, altimeter, check, a bear, check, get the bear on this plane. A bear on cocaine. That poor bear.

Oh, that poor bear. Turns out Andrew was a former narcotics officer and suspended lawyer who had not been undercover for the DEA as he said, though he had worked for them at one point, but instead had been on the run from them while he was dating my mom. Wow. He'd been working for a huge weapons and drug smuggling operation and according to one article, he became one of the highest ranking members. This whole story is allegedly part of a larger conspiracy regarding drug trafficking slash the CIA slash a major weapon stuff, but that could be a minisode in itself. So I'll just leave the story at that. Stay sexy and don't leave your drugs where bears can get them, Sam. Shit, Sam. That was great. That was legendary. It was like a touch of D.B.

Cooper. Totally. It was a touch of that story that you did. On the tracks? Yes. Yeah. Oh my god. Oh my god. And then of course bears. And then bears. Barodies. Sorry for the animal nature people out there that we had to include that. No, all bears were harmed in the making of this minisode. But at the same time, they harm themselves and addiction is a disease. Say no to Coke. That poor bear thought it was like powdered sugar. He's like, hmm, delicious cereal or whatever. I see him like diving, doing a dive. A perfect dive. And then he's walking around smoking and talking about a bear. A restaurant. A restaurant called Bear Essentials. It's all honey. Oh my god. We got to get some bees in on this. Sticks his head in a beehive. Okay. The subject line of

this is my grandpa is crazier than your grandpa. Hi. In the 1940s, my grandpa was a self-described hobo. He used to hitchhike and ride around on trains looking for work during the school year when he was a teenager. That sounds like so much fun. I mean, that's the life. And then he would come back to his parents' house during the summer to look after his little brother, Gary. Every year, Gary would ask if he could go along. And when he turned 12 or 13, my grandpa finally agreed to take him. Can we just talk about baby's name, Gary, real quick? I just want to take a fucking moment to let everyone know that there was like a child named Gary at one point in his life. I get seven year old like, it's me, Gary. I just want to go on the train with you. Gary. It's me, Gary.

Stop it, Gary. Will you help the baby? Gary's crying. Will you change Gary's diaper? Gary spit up again. Gary has a briefcase. He's only four. His diapers are in his briefcase. You just do the basics. Gary's got all this equipment. Okay, go on with baby Gary. Okay, baby Gary gets to go because it's so long ago. It was the 40s. It says my grandpa finally agreed to take him. 13 is basically an adult, right? So I actually just started talking through the end of that paragraph instead of just reading it. So they're leaving their hometown of Walla Walla Washington by the way of hitchhiking. They get picked up and my grandpa is quietly sitting in the back seat. Well, Gary is making conversation with the driver. Gary 13. Gary is just working

the driver. At this point, I should mention two things. My grandpa is quiet and salty and he refuses to comment on the story. Gary is the only one who will talk about it. Spoiler alert, they both survived. So this guy is driving and he takes an unexpected turn. Gary says something about it and the guy doesn't respond. Then Gary goes, seriously, mister, seriously, mister, you're headed down the wrong way. And the man tells Gary shut the fuck up and turns down a forested road toward the mountains. After another minute or two, Gary asks the man to let them out and the guy produces a pistol points at Gary and says, you'll get out when I say you'll get out. Oh no. At which point, Gary hears a click from the back of the car. My grandpa is pointing a gun

at the man. Holy shit. And then it just says in quotes in quotation, no, I think we'll get out here. Believe it or not, the guy was convinced and he let them go. Oh, Gary decided the hobo life wasn't for him. And to this day, granddad won't tell anyone where he got the gun. SSDGM, Casey Jane, PS, looking forward to seeing you in San Francisco this October. What about this for a fucking twist or two? Yes. What if Gary, what's the dad grandpa's name? It just says grandpa. What if grandpa teenage grandpa did it on purpose to scare Gary coming again? Yes. Right? Oh my god. And then Gary's like, I want to go back home and grandpa's like, well, teenage grand, I'm teenage grandpa. I got to get going on my own, Gary. And the friend that's like, I'm scary random man from

the car. There's problems because like, why does teenage grandpa know this creepy old man? Anyway, but that's not the word. I mean, that's the hobo life. They're not ages. You know people, you have friends. You can start young, you can end old, you do it however you want. That's great. I love that the grandpa won't comment on it. I know. You got to have a gun with you. You're going to be like a fucking traveling hobo. You got to have a piece or a switchblade. Do you get it? Absolutely. And also how smart of him to sit in the back seat. Yeah. It's like, whatever happens here, also Gary's just totally a front seat bait. Chit chat. You're just like, why don't you go ahead and go up and sit up there? Go sit next to the old man,

pepper him with questions. See how he responds. I'm not going to read you the subject right. Hello, beautiful ladies, Steven and fur babies. I was listening to the mini-soad when you read the story about the girl trying to scare her grandmother, but instead it was someone trying to break in. And it reminded me of this story. Both my brother and his wife used to be cops. They both switched professions and are firefighters now. They have always taught their kids what to do in emergency situations. One day, my niece, who is about 10 years old at the time, was at her friend's house. Well, while there, someone broke into her friend's house and threatened everyone inside. My niece was able to sneak away and head home. But instead of calling for help,

she grabbed my brother's gun, loaded it, and went back to her friend's house. What? They lived next door. She walked in, aimed the gun at the man, and told him to get out of the house. Luckily, this was enough to scare away the man, and he left without harming anyone. Holy shit. 10 years old. Needless to say, my brother and his wife were both proud and horrified, found out what happened. And needless to say, they moved their guns to a different location, locked them up, and had a long chat with their kids about the correct way to handle a situation. Yeah. They were like telling them about how to defend yourself, but didn't start with number one. Call the police. You're not the police. You're 10. You're in a fourth grade,

and you don't have to take this on. This is not, this is for adults. It's not yours. Yeah. Although you did. You did. Therefore, you're the most badass 10-year-old of all time. That's right. And I will never stop smiling because I've heard your story. Stay sexy and teach your kids to call 911 instead of taking on a burglar by yourself. Sherry. Amazing. I love that 10-year-old girl. Maybe I'll have one kid. Just one. Maybe I'll have one 10-year-old. I'll just have a 10-year-old. I pictured this little girl. This is when I first read this, and I could not stop giggling. I pictured that it's like a terrible home invasion scene. And I picture a little girl with pigtails sliding backwards over the back of a couch, like when no one's looking. Like a slug.

Just kind of sliding back. Maybe she's double-jointed and just kind of put all of her things at a joint. Very circus style. She's Cirque du Soleil backwards over the couch. She becomes liquid. She's liquids out the door, form of an ice cube shape of. But then it's pigtails kicking the door in with the gun going get out of this motherfucking mouth. She's got braces. She takes out a retainer so she can say it really clearly. Oh, I just love it. Amen. Children do not touch guns. Don't fuck. Lock up your guns, everyone. Everybody lock your guns. Children never touch guns. It's not don't touch guns. We don't think it's cool. Also, don't listen to this podcast of your child. Get the fuck out of here. What are you doing? 10? Get out of here. Except for you, little hero. Yeah,

a little punky rooster. You little badass punky rooster hero. Wow, those were, what a great batch. Those were a great batch. Send your great batch to my favorite murder at Gmail. Oh, and also, you can go now on our new brand new Pretty Sparkly website and just submit there somewhere. Yes, that's right. You can go directly at www.myfavoritmurder.com slash gov. Thanks for listening and sending in your stuff. And stay sexy. Don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, do you want a cookie? Wow. I've been with that one.