My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 139

Episode Date: September 9, 2019

This week’s hometowns include a morgue story and a gun range.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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And welcome. To my favorite murder. This is the mini-soad. Where we read you shit. Your own shit right back to you. You sent it to us. We have no choice but to read it to you. You forced our hand.

It's the agreement we all made at the beginning of this television, I mean, podcast. And it'll never end. And it will never be over. Do you have a good one to end on, like a light-hearted one? Okay, then let me go first. Okay, is that okay? Yeah. Okay.

Because mine are about maggots and stuff. All right. This just says hometown story. Yes. Hey, gals. First off, massive fan. You guys get me through my grilling commute on the Los Angeles Metro. Anywho, I'll get to it.

I moved to LA about a year ago, but before that, I lived in a small city in Missouri called Springfield, you know, the home of Gypsy Blanchard. Oh. Is that right? Am I always Missouri, right? Yes, it is. Oh my God. I forgot that right.

Congratulations. Thank you. Cut that out. I had lived in an apartment downtown for about three years and had many sketchy things happen to me, but this was by far the scariest. I kept seeing this creepy dude with Jeffrey Dahmer glasses and a dirty-ass shirt skulking around the premises for a while. I assumed he was a new tenant.

This is just the whole story reminds me of when I lived in Hollywood and it's terrifying. He always creeped on me in the basement laundry room and I would ignore his attempts at interacting. Fucking apartment building laundry rooms. Is there anything scarier? Or more dangerous. Totally. You bring a weapon and get real confrontational. If you think someone's quote unquote creeping on you in the laundry room, turn around and

go bat shit bananas on that person. Stop washing your clothes or get a friend who has a wash or dryer. Take out a loan from the bank in quarters and take it on down to a very full laundry mat. That's a great idea. One day I walked to the gas station around the corner and noticed he was following me. I thought maybe he was just going to the gas station too, but he followed me there, waited outside and then followed me back home.

I was freaked out, but I told myself, oh, maybe it's just a stupid coincidence. Well, guess what? It wasn't. Later that week, one of my female neighbors had told me she'd gotten attacked the night before by a man in glasses. He had come up behind her and tried to grab her and drag her down the stairs. Luckily, she fought back and got away from him and called the police. Turns out he had been squatting in the basement for about a month and my idiot apartment manager

did nothing about it. And guess what? Neither did the police. They let him go because there was already an ongoing investigation involving him that they quote didn't want to interfere with. Also all caps. Even if he was a registered sex offender. Jesus Christ.

The ongoing investigation they were talking about involved him raping a 13-year-old girl. Holy shit. Needless to say, I trust my gut now when it tells me someone is a creepy fuckhead. Yes. Thanks for being the best, Lacey. Jesus Christ. Guys. So there, because it's an ongoing investigation that he might be a child rapist, go ahead

and let him do whatever he wants. Trust passing. Getting him in for trust passing will derail the investigation. Oh my God. Yeah. So you don't have to watch your own fucking backs because. Jesus. Well, and also, yeah.

And it's, if you are in, if someone is walking behind you and there's more than one gas station in your town. Yeah. It is not a coincidence. You're allowed to turn around and pepper spray people that are falling too close to you. You're also allowed to turn around and go, get the fuck away from me. I'm not kidding.

Do whatever you want. Yeah. Say, be confrontational. Be aggressive. Yeah. Like those people need to know that you're paying attention and that you're, or be, or turn around and take a picture of them and be like, you're a fucking creep. Great idea.

But follow me. Now I have a picture of you. I'm taking it to the cops. That's a great idea. You know when I got, I got boxed in, like someone trapped me off the freeway because he thought I cut him off and I couldn't go anywhere. He got out of his car, came to my window and I was panicking. I didn't know what to do.

He was yelling at me. I started recording him with my phone and as soon as I did that, he acted all normal and walked away. Yes. That's right. Yeah. Yeah. Get, get them, get proof.

Start collecting your own proof and show them that's what you're doing. Show them that you're not pretending they're not there because you're scared. Right. Show them you're scared. Therefore you're going to go nuts. So I love it. Yes. Please.

Love it. Also involve your friends. Involve the guy that works at the gas station. Yeah. Say to the guy that works at the gas station. Can you help me? That guy's following. Yeah.

Like do, see, see if anyone will jump in on it with you. Right. Totally. But also save it for, save it for when you know. Yeah. Carry pepper spray. Make sure you're not, that's not happening a lot. Yeah.

You know, be your own best editor, but when you truly feel it, go with it. That's right. Go with it. Your pepper spray has only a few sprays in it. And remember that too. It runs out pretty quick. But know that people will help you. Yeah.

Look for a mom type. Yeah. And look at her and go, this guy's freaking me out. Yeah. Or stop and be like, can you pretend that we're friends really quickly because this person's following me. Just don't be afraid to rope in others that look safe, have clean shirts. Right.

You know. Right. Yes. What up? You're also rad that I even got my scaredy cat sister and my boyfriend who hates most things into MFM. Oh. Hi guys.

Yes. Thank you. Those two, those are the victory people. Yeah. Guys who aren't interested and women who are like, I can't listen to it. I don't like murder. Hi. Hi.

Thank you. So when my older brother was a teenager, he was a regular hooligan and was always getting into some sort of mostly harmless trouble. One day in 2008 when my brother was a junior in high school, he decided to stay home while my parents sister and I went on a little lake day a few hours away. Just when we were about to get ice cream, my mom got a call from my end. This is what I heard. What?

He's where? Is he okay? He did what? Oh my God. Okay. We'll be there in a few hours. Oh. It turns out my 17 year old brother and a group of his pals were hanging out in one of their

female friends, nice ass, wealthy neighborhoods, filming a movie. In this movie, they were pretending to kidnap the girl. Oh my God. Well, girlfriend had been taking acting since she was eight and pulled out all her acting skills. Yes, girl. They dragged her into the car kicking and screaming and then sped away. The girl's neighbor saw this and immediately called 911 to report her kidnapping, shout

out to the neighbor for calling 911 and asking questions later. Well, the police wasted no time, put out an Amber Alert and shut down the highways. They pulled over my brother and his friends and arrested them. Oh my God. They brought them to jail and we picked him up after we finished our ice cream. Looking back on it now, even though it was a pain in the ass for my idiot brother and my parents, I'm super glad that the neighbor took action when she thought she saw something happening and that the police reacted so quickly and took it so seriously.

If my brother was a real kidnapper, they would have saved a girl's life. I don't think there were ever charges filed against my brother and his friends, but I was only in the fourth grade, so I was dumb and oblivious. She's 30 now and still basically a dumb teenager and he hasn't kidnapped any more girls, so we are seeing big improvements. Stay sexy and always tell your neighbors before you kidnap your friends. Shelby. Shelby.

Shelby. That's hilarious and I identify as having a troubled older brother. Also I wonder if they still use that footage. I bet it was great. Seriously. Kids in high school who make movies on their own are so cool, I think. Wait a second. This is from Shelby Tarantino.

Oh my God. We are there at the beginning. You're not going to believe it. Okay, here's another one. Ready? I'm just going to tell you it says EMT story. Great. Howdy.

Howdy. Howdy. My great-grandmother was murdered by serial killer Donald Harvey, which inspired my lifelong love of true crime, ultimately landing me in a career field I am in today. This has nothing to do with that, by the way. That's just the kickoff. That's the opening. Okay.

Yeah. An EMT and morgue employee. I have lots of stories from both of these, but the ones that keep me up at night are the ones from the morgue. No, sure. Yeah, I bet. I have seen it all, but my favorite is about what I accidentally brought home from an autopsy. This summer was disgustingly hot, as we all know, which leads to some particularly unique

circumstances for us at the morgue. Contrary to popular belief, morgues are actually pretty clean and we use enough bleach that it doesn't smell too horrible. So when I walked in the door and immediately gagged, I knew it had to be bad. We had a decomp case in, which is something I'm used to, but what I wasn't expecting was all the little critters. During the autopsy, a few hundred maggots started dropping to the floor. Okay, gross, but no big deal.

Here's where it hits the fan. A fucking mouse leaps out of the body bag and onto the floor. I can handle anything except for rodents. I bolt to the other side of the room and the little mouse is darting around, searching for a place to hide. So where does he decide to go? Right towards me. Right.

Thankfully, my shrieks of fear scared it off. Can you imagine being a morgue worker and an EMT and you've seen so much shit? You're scared of might. That's what I was going to say. I was just like, everyone has their thing. Everyone has their thing. And for some people, it's like, I don't understand how you could ever do an autopsy. And then for other people, it's like, I don't understand how you could ever look at a mouse.

Oh my God. And that one, there's clearly a right and wrong. Right. Thankfully, my shrieks of fear scared it off and it runs under the door and into the supply closet. After the day is done, I come home and take off my shoes, expecting to shower and eat Cheetos to only to find that somehow a maggot got under my shoe covers and into my shoes. Fortunately, it was only one.

But after the mouse, I was just over it. Yeah. To make a long story short, I panic over a little critter, pathetic, I know. Our pathologist eventually finds the mouse a week later, who sadly had the ironic fate of dying at the morgue. Stay sexy and adopt cats to keep the mice away, Kira from Cincinnati. Wow. Kira, thank you for doing the work you do.

It's important. We don't mean to make fun of you or belittle your fears because you're brave in many ways. Yeah, it's ironic. It's ironic and hilarious. Yes, exactly. If you were, we'd say it to your face. Yeah. Because it's cute.

And you know it. Yeah. Okay. Now this goes almost in the other direction. Stay sexy and think twice before you call the police. Okay. Right? All right.

There's a lot of things to entertain on this episode. You gotta make judgments. Judgment calls. Hey, loves. I grew up in Claremont in Western Australia, and as such, had a natural obsession with serial killers. In fact, both my parents were witnesses to the first disappearance in the Claremont Serial Killer case, as they were exiting Club Bayview, known back then as Club Baseview, when she

was taken. Oh my God. Yeah, they were there. When I was about 17, I was home alone when I heard a knock on the door. Two police officers had come by to show local residents photos of possible suspects in a recent attack of a fellow officer at Claremont train station. I had a very long look at the faces and said I would get in touch if I saw anyone who looked suspect nearby.

Cut to the next day, I'm on the train going to work, and I see two older men across from me who I recognize immediately. I change carriages and make a frantic call to police that the two assailants are on the train heading to Perth City. I get off the train in the city, and there are easily 80 police officers storming the platform, ready to take down the attackers when I suddenly realize that these two men are not the suspects I was shown, but are actually just friends of my dad's from the golf club.

Oh my God. I thought they were going to be the cops from the night before, so that's a little bit better. Oh my God. Just your dad's friends. I, of course, told the nearest police officer that I think I've made a mistake and hightail it out of there, and thankfully no one was hurt or arrested because of me. I think the moral of the story is that you should trust your gut unless you are an impressionable

17-year-old with a flair for drama. Stay sexy and arrest all old men, Adios, Rini. Wow. I love the parallels here. We've got good and bad. Yes, that's right. Because everything is nuanced, it's just contextual. It's what's actually happening.

You know, I bet part of the reason we don't trust our guts anymore is because it's probably wrong most of the time. So we stopped trusting it because we're like, remember that one time I called the fucking SWAT team on my dad's golfing friend? There's always doubt. There's always the doubt that you're just kind of having a reaction. That's why it's like, check it, check it twice. Check it a third time.

But trust your gut. But trust your gut. Even though, yeah, sure, it's a lie. You know. The trust part is continuing to check, and then when you realize, oh no, that's just Dan and Woody, my dad's golf friends. You're fine. Correct it.

Then get the fuck out of there. Then get out of there. I'm glad she said something before. She told on herself. Yes, totally. I'm assuming Rini is a woman because that would have been super screwed. But they tried to arrest those two dudes, those poor dudes. Because then her dad's golf game screwed.

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You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. I'm not going to tell you the title of this. Okay. Hello, all. Let's just get right down to the nitty gritty. Sure. Look, listen, so I was a young mother. I had my son at 19 and I wasn't the wisest person at that age.

Who is? I know I was going to say that because not many 19-year-olds are. I worked in a restaurant biz at the time, so I often needed sitters for the weekends and evenings. Sometimes my parents and sister just couldn't fit it into their schedule to take him, so I would have to outsource. One Saturday in particular, I asked my 14-year-old niece to watch him for a few hours until Grandma could pick him up.

So I dropped him off at her dad's house where she was staying for the weekend and headed out to work. Now, let's get something straight here. I am not a gun advocate. I hate them. My reaction when I found out that her dad had taken my, all caps, eight-year-old son to a shooting range and taught him how to shoot, as you can imagine, I was one pissed off mama.

Now, let's go ahead and fast forward about four years. Turns out my niece's father is a murderer. What? Jesus Christ. Yes, that's right. My son learned how to shoot a gun from a murderer. Her father actually shot his current wife something like 46 times. I honestly don't remember the exact number, but it was insanely high.

Not my sister, or the story would have been a lot more depressing, but yes, I'm that terrible mother. Anywho, stay sexy and don't let murderers teach your kids how to shoot guns, Angela. Oh my God. I know. Twist turns. That's... It would have been bad enough, which is the shooting a gun.

Oh, I know, really. I was fine with the gun range thing, the height of that. That's horrible. That's horrible. No. Oh, come on. See why I didn't want to end? I want you to end.

I'm not going to read the subject line. Hi, y'all. So my family moved to Austin, Texas shortly after leaving DC to raise me a wee baby in a normal suburban house with my brother and sister. Being a mother of three, as well as a badass in the state capital, my mom was tired as hell of taking care of me. One night, after finally getting me to fall asleep, my mom dozed off. She woke to me screaming and crying on the baby monitor and was about to groggily get

up and tend to me, but then she heard a strange man's voice over the monitor saying, shh, come here, it's okay, let's go to the car. And things like that. Oh. Instead of being horrified, waking my dad or calling the police according to her, her only thought was, thank God somebody else is taking care of her and she went back to bed. No.

Eventually my dad woke up and heard the voice, bolted upstairs to my nursery where I was alone, sound asleep. And somehow they realized that the monitor had crossed channels with our next door neighbors who had the same system for their baby. Jesus. Anyway, love y'all. Please come back to Austin. Thank you.

Regan. How do you ever trust your mother again? For real. Like she was so tired. I know. I know. That she was just like, someone's doing something. But did I ever tell you this same thing happened with my friends, Peter and Nancy, they had,

their kids were babies. They had a video monitor and they were sitting there one night and Peter, or maybe it was friends of theirs. I think it was their friends told them the story. They looked over and they saw hands going into the baby crib. And it was the same thing, bolting upstairs like someone is in the baby's room. And they go up there. The baby's asleep.

It's fine. And it was, they were looking at the, the crossed feed of their, their neighbors monitor. Cause here's what would happen. You go in and the baby's fine. So the second thing would be, we have fucking ghosts. I wouldn't be like, oh, and the neighbors must have crossed feed. You'd be like, there's a demon in my fucking house. And I, I would think the second thing would be you stand there shitting your pants in

the baby's room like a baby. Because that would be so scary. Because you have demons now. You're going to have to go into the monitor, kill the demon and out. I just hurt myself. It was a demon. Um, that was good. And that was a good one to end on.

Thank you. Thanks for listening. Send me your, we really need your stories. My favorite murder at Gmail. Send your weird, funny, interesting stories. Make it concise. Yes. We want to hear, um, whatever you have to tell us, tell us a good story.

And, uh, you know, two paragraphs max. Yeah. Like something like that happened in your family. That's that everyone laughed about at in the end, but at first you thought you had demons. Sure. A demon is fine. A hidden treasure is fine. Anything your grandparents did with weapons is great.

That's right. So little brothers and sisters with weapons is great. Ways you almost killed your kids when they were little on accident. That's always a good one. Or let's just remind everybody of my number one of all time, the little boy that rode around on his bike, uh, chain sawing down telephone poles in his town, you know, just a mayhem. Mayhem.

Don't forget that mayhem is a theme that we like to hear about. Cause it's stirring some shit up. Come on. What's that time that you climbed up the water tower because you would drink too many wine coolers and then knocked it over or whatever. Do it. Has to be true though. Yeah.

Okay. Stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye. Bye bye.