My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 69

Episode Date: May 7, 2018

This week’s hometowns include the Hot Dog Murders and a short ghost story.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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To the staring contest that Karen and I just had. Got it. Brings out the best in us. It does. Right at the top of a Minnesota. We don't know what's happening. It's just a lot of energy and a lot of readiness. And then we don't know where to put.

No. How about right into these microphones? How about right into your own hometown murders are about to read you. Go. You started. Okay. This is stuff is called weird stuff hidden inside a wall, short and light hearted. Oh, and we're reading these before we're going.

This is going to be while we're in Europe. So, oh my God, we're in Europe right now. Oh my God. I love trains. UK. Yeah. Wow. I love them all.

God. Thanks for getting us over here listeners. So here are some that take place in those places. Hi guys. All humans and pets included. I don't know if you're still reading the stuff hidden in wall stories. Oh, we are. But here's mine anyway.

When my grandfather died a few years ago, my parents moved into his old house and as they were cleaning up the place they found, they moved around some old cupboards. They noticed that the wall behind those cupboards was hollow and there was a hidden trap door in the wall. Oh, they were, they were really excited to see what was in there, but were slightly disappointed to discover that it was mostly just some papers and not a huge stash of money or a confession to a murder or something similar. Okay.

Maybe that was just my true crime obsessed ass lol. Included in those papers along with old letters was my grandpa's diary from when he was traveling in Israel and other places, which were probably somewhat interesting. However, the best thing they found was a very meticulous food diary. My grandpa had kept in the seventies because he had tried to figure out why he had stomach issues. Oh, his diet included quote, about 10 bagels for dinner. Oh my God, my boyfriend, 10 bagels for dinner, turns out he has celiac disease.

Yeah. She said, I wonder why he had indigestion. The fact that he wrote that down and then hit it is such an unassuming, in such an unassuming place still makes me laugh and quote, about 10 bagels has become one of my family's catch phrases. Yes. What do you want for dinner? About 10 bagels please.

I could eat about 10 bagels right now. This isn't a creepy story and hopefully you didn't find it boring. Also sorry, my writing is bad. My first language is Finnish. That was the most perfectly written letter. Oh my, so 10, about 10 bagels was written in Finnish originally. Yeah. Amazing.

I'd finish about 10. Someone kill me. Okay. Don't kill me. Love you guys. Thank you for the amazing podcast. It has kept me company during long hospitalization periods for my eating disorder. And thank you for talking, learning and teaching about mental illness the way you do.

Love, Andre. Oh. Andre, that was so hilarious. And also get healthy, be happy. Most all try to be happier than we seem to allow ourselves to be with all this shit. Yes. Please. Yes.

That was such a good story. That was so good. I mean look, on the weekends I get very about 10 bagels-y where I'm like, hey, you know, I feel these weird rationalizations about eating bagels on the weekend. But it's the weekend. It's the weekend. I've earned. I don't know what I'm thinking.

I've earned it somehow, which I have not ever. I have to say, so someone recently wrote me a thing about like their eating disorder issues and how me talking about food and having had eating disorder helped and like, and I just wanted to write and tell them that one of the things that really helped me get over it was learning how to cook and being obsessed with cooking, which made me like really more into food and stuff. Yeah. So if I can toast that bagel out, maybe make your cream cheese at home.

How? I don't know. I'm sure there's an Instant Pot recipe online somewhere. Here's how you do it. You take a cup of milk and you put it on the windowsill in direct sunlight. You do that for three weeks and then you scrape off the green mold. Yeah. Cream cheese.

Done. And then put that green mold into some blue, make up blue cheese. You have blue cheese now. That's right. Now you have blue cheese salad dressing that you can pour over your cream cheese and your bagel. Yeah. Get the bagels from a store though.

Don't fuck around. Don't make them? Yeah. Don't pretend you can make a bagel. You can make cream cheese all day. I can make cream cheese for you. Okay. Here you go.

Okay. Subterlina is found in a chimney. Love it. Hello ladies, felines, canines and mustaches. Yes. That's great. This is the way that's what we're looking for. I was trying to do a cheer at the beginning.

First of all, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the amazing podcast and the community that has grown as a direct result of your openness with regards to mental health issues. Oh my God. I think our mental health over there. How could we have ever known that our mental health issues would be helping so many people? Who knew? What a nice payoff for having so many mental health issues.

I mean, who knew payoff in the long run? Because of both yourselves and the Facebook support group, my mental health issues do not have a hold on over my life anymore. Yay. Awesome. Thank you. No, thank you. No, I'm having a conversation by myself.

Don't want me to go. My mom recently had to have her chimney swept. Get your minds out of the gutter. This is my mother. Hey. Hey. Get your minds out of the chimney. So she hired a company to do it.

My stepdad, who was once arrested for murder while at sea, was talking to this week. Oh, we're just going to brief pass that. Okay. Wait, what? Oh, that's the second story. I get it, Steven. Oh, shit. I love it.

She explains that. Okay, good. This is going to be a little bit of a longie. Okay. Let's do it. Okay. So, uh, was talking to the sweep. So her dad that was arrested once for murder at sea was talking to the sweep, the chimney

sweep. And he started talking about the more interesting jobs they'd done recently. The sweep said that they'd been hired to sweep the chimneys at an old fancy house in Monmouth. They were working on one chimney, but the brush got stuck. This happens a lot because birds sometimes nest in them. They went up to the roof to drop a weight down to clear the blockage, but it wouldn't budge.

Oh my God. The next step was to estimate where the blockage was and carefully remove bricks from the chimney and pull the blockage out that way. Ooh, that's like surgery. Oh, it's going to be a body. But it's like surgery. Low and behold, after removing a few bricks, they find the skull of a child. Oh my God!

Yes. Now, you're on the site, you're on what I would imagine to be a slanted roof. Sure. You're out of a chimney, and then you're rooting around in there thinking you're just going to pull out a nest or whatever. A yank? A little tiny child's call. Oh no.

The police were called, but it was soon established that this was the remains of a very young chimney sweep. What? Apparently, this was a common occurrence as the sweeps would be overcome by fumes and die in chimneys. No babies. Oh my God. Whoever hired the sweeps clearly gave no fucks and just left him up there.

That's insane. Oh my God. I can't wait to see you in Manchester in May, stay sexy, and remember not to leave child labors in fancy chimneys, Rhiannon. Can you imagine the family that fucking lived there at the time? Did they tell them when they were like, no, okay. I bet they didn't. No, I bet they didn't.

Well, because also, now I want to know from that family, that house must have been haunted. Yeah. A little skeleton up in the chimney the whole time. Oh my God. Jesus. You're up. What are you doing? Jesus, you're up.

You're so old. You have all these things hidden in you. What's that? No. Oh, sorry. Yeah. This is just that my dad's murder story. My stepdad joined the merchant Navy during the 70s because his mom was a straight up bitch.

Anyway, sometimes that's what you got to do. One time the boat docked and my stepdad was in charge while the goods were being loaded and unloaded and this meant that there were some people on the boat who were unfamiliar with the ship's protocols. And there were these massive doors on the deck to put goods in and when the doors were closing an alarm would sound so that everyone got out of the way, probably because she was unfamiliar with the ship's protocols, the poor woman got crushed to death by the closing door and because my dad was in charge, he was arrested for murder because I guess he

was supposed to stop stuff like that from happening. Anyway, he spent some time in an interview room while the local authorities made inquiries and ultimately came to the conclusion that the death was a horrible accident. Jesus. He was also arrested on espionage charges one time. But we're not supposed to talk about that since step-grandma didn't know what happened and like I mentioned before, is a massive bitch. When she dies, I'll write to you again.

Oh my God. Rhiannon, you're two for two. That was amazing. That was great. Okay. This one is called, it's called, I'll see your $1,100 under a tree and raise you a hundred genitals in an alley. No.

That's the name of it. Hello, and then it says, insert original greeting here. Nice. Ladies, I, if minisodes can now feature stories about finding suspicious heaps of paper in public places, I have got a mystery for you. During my second year of university in the stupidly uphill city of Bristol, I'd have an hour-long walk up a massive hill to get home and mainly to avoid having to make small talk with classmates, learned all the little secret shortcuts along the way.

Wow. Fucking amen. Kind of love it. So in one particular shortcut, five minutes from my home, we called Murder Alley. Not because anyone was killed there to our knowledge, it was just a very long, narrow, closed in from above by trees inhabited by rabid foxes and the kind of place you'd expect a man in a trench coat to leap out at any second and flash you. You get the idea.

Sure. Great. Absolutely walk through there. Yes. Get down in there. Hello. Do it. One summer's day, I was wandering up Murder Alley alone and came across a large brown

envelope on the ground. I looked around to see if anybody was there who might have dropped it. Nope. Peeping out of the envelope, facing downwards, was a huge stack of photos. I could tell by the markings on the back, they were professionally printed and larger than normal size. Bearing in mind, this was quite a posh family area. I bent down to pick them up thinking, oh, somebody's dropped their wedding photos on

the way to show a friend. I'll have to look to see if I recognize any faces so I can get them back to the owner. Oh, no. I turned the stack over and realized it would be very difficult to find the owner. There were no faces, just photo after photo, a close-up photo of some very hairy lady parts against various backgrounds. There may have been man parts too. I don't remember.

I just saw enough to appreciate that the lighting was pretty well done. Then freaked out, threw them all up in the air and ran home. What a wedding that was. When my three male housemates asked why I was so sweaty, I told them I'd stumbled across a huge pile of high-resolution vaginas and ran because, well, nobody ever teaches you at school how to react in that exact situation. That's true. All three immediately sprinted to Murder Alley to rescue the pictures.

By the time they got there, the envelope and its contents had gone. I don't know if it was found by a grateful passerby, a bunch of picking kids, the person who dropped them or whether it was a set up from one of those prank TV shows. Ten years later, I still wonder about the mystery porn and how it got there. Hope it found a good home. Stay sexy and if you find mystery genitalias in a dark alley, take them home with you. They might be somebody else's cup of tea. Lots of murdery love, Charlotte.

That is, I mean, it's hacky, but I think that might right there to be the distilled essence of the difference between men and women. Women pick those pictures up and are like, oh my God, and throw them up in the air like Vera with the straws at the beginning of Alice. And then three guys hear about it and run at high speed. I feel like I'd look at them, put them back down and walk away. I feel like up close vaginas with different backgrounds just feels like nothing good is happening.

I think also it's a good enough story without needing proof like you don't need to bring them home. Like, look what I found. You can also just saying this is what I look. Oh my God, I found this thing is like enough. Well, also between the time where you find them and you bring them home, if they're just in your bag, how do you explain that to somebody that like what if you like something happened and suddenly you're like, why do you have 50 pictures of assorted vaginas when your

bully comes and steals your backpack? He does that every day after school and then you become pussy backpack or what? Yeah. You're bringing pussy back. Do you want a really quick ghost story before we go? Or do you have another one? I have another one. Looking for a better cooking routine?

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That's up to 20 free meals plus free shipping on your first box when you go to hellofresh.ca slash murder20 and use code murder20. Goodbye. What makes a person a murderer? Are they born to kill or are they made to kill? I'm Candace DeLong and on my new podcast Killer Psyche Daily, I share a quick 10-minute rundown every weekday on the motivations and behaviors of the criminal masterminds, psychopaths and cold-blooded killers you hear about in the news.

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Download the app today. The subject line here is the hot dog murders. Oh no. Hello Karen, Georgia, Steven and collection of pets. I grew up in a small town called Odeby next to, is it Leicester? Good luck. Steven, I think it is, L-E-I-C-E-S-T-E-R. Or is it Leichester?

I think it's Leichester. Do you? Where nothing really happens. Except what is known, except what is known as the hot dog murders disclaimer, I wasn't born when this happened. So all my information is from news articles and my parents and friends. In the early 1990s in Leicester, or Leichester, whatever the fuck this is, Leicester, Steven, any luck?

Leicester. Fuck yes. There's a reason I watch BBC America every goddamn moment of my life. In the early 1990s in Leicester, there was a turf war between two rival hot dog van owners. Oh my god. Which involved disappearances, protection rackets and arson, among other things, such as two people being murdered. Always seemed a bit over the top to me, to be honest.

In August of 1990, Gary Thompson and John Weston were found dead in the Thompson home with around 60,000 pounds missing. These murders were dubbed the hot dog murders as Gary Thompson was an owner of a chain of hot dog vans. Two men were sentenced to life in prison for double murder. After one claimed it was a burglary gone wrong, however, the other man, Warren Slaney, still maintains his innocence claiming that he was at a family party at the time of the murders. The man convicted of the crime claimed it was due to a robbery gone wrong.

However, when it was talked about in my hometown, they say it was set up by another fast food van owner. I grew up around the corner from the house that the murders occurred in and have spent many a time listening to my dad tell me the story about the man killed there over hot dogs. Bit weird, I know. Personally, I like to believe that the murders were ordered by another hot dog van owner, like a fast food based gangster film.

However, he was most likely a high end drug dealer who used the hot dog vans as a front and got shot when someone tried to rob him of the drug money. I tried to find more information, however, due to it being the nineties, there wasn't much online due to it being the nineties anyway that you'd enjoy this is it's one of the stupidest names I have heard for murder. Yeah, that's why a hot dog anything I love. Yeah. Thank you for your show.

You guys are helping me through my mountain of uni work and you've given me a new love for podcasts. Yay. Stay sexy. Don't get and don't start a fast food van chain SSU GM Alice. Oh, now I want a hot dog, hot dog vans, hot dog vans, hot dog vans pulling up. Oh my God. Why isn't there a hot dog van in my neighborhood?

Because vans are the scariest vehicle. Oh, yeah. And hot dogs are the grossest food, but you can always go down to Costco. You're right. You've solved my problems. All of them. Let's hear that ghost story. Just a quick couple of lines of ghost story.

This is called a short lighthearted story. Hello, Karen, Georgia, Steven and creatures. This is a short and scary story that happened to my cousin Alex in London a few years back. He was staying with my aunt for a couple of days in her creepy, tiny, dark English apartment. Alex was watching TV in the living room and he heard my aunt calling him from the kitchen saying, Alex, time for dinner, sweetheart. As he was standing up to go to the kitchen, he heard her shout out from the bedroom, don't go in the kitchen.

I heard that voice too. I'm a huge fan of the podcast. Stay sexy and don't get Lord Mimi. What? That's all? Mm-hmm. That's not enough. What the fuck?

Send us your ghost stories. What voice was the real voice? How does he know the one from the bedroom was really her? Well, the bedroom would be like, don't go in there. Come in here instead. Come in here and get these knitting needles out of my hand. All right. Come help me with my bunions.

Come put your finger in the socket. Right. Don't help me with my bunions. Come put your finger in the socket. I'm going to guess it's that one. That's fake. But how will we know? But what was the ghost trying to feed her to death?

With what? In the kitchen? Ghost food? Yeah. Oh, right. It's poison rolls. I eat ghost food. I love ghost food.

It tastes ashy, though. It's all ashes. Send us your ghost stories, please. God, that was unsatisfying. It was almost, I like it better than anything. I like it better. Because it's almost like a B12 shot of ghost story. Yeah, and you can fill in the rest of it with the B12 your body already makes.

The idea that the person whose voice you heard, it wasn't that voice and the person is there. Yeah. Well, imagine the aunt. She's like, what the fuck? I just heard my own voice. I mean, who was it? You know. Twin sister that she and in the womb had eaten because she was the stronger twin.

And then her twin sister was like, come have dinner and she's going to feed him. Her, her twin, her own. It's the revenge meal. She was going to feed her the placenta tacos. Oh, that's good for your skin now. I know. I wouldn't mind. Placenta tacos is so gross.

I know. If this was an episode, this would be called placenta tacos. Okay. Send us your stories. My favorite murder of GMO. Thanks for listening, you guys. And stay sexy. And don't get murdered.

Goodbye. Bye-bye. I hope you want cookie. Bye-bye.