My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 96

Episode Date: November 12, 2018

This week’s hometowns include a clown attack and advice from a mobster.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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Welcome yourself. To me. To welcome you, Karen. To me and to everybody. And me too. And me too. To my favorite merger. The Pianosode.

The Pianosode. This is where we read the emails you sent us that are about your hometown murders, things you find in walls, ghosts, grandparents, and the like. Any fucking anything. By the by, and we are two weeks out from the event, you can stop telling us about the teeth, the dentist teeth and the walls. I've gotten over 500 tweets about it. Which in today's money is.

2,000 tweets about a story that you can be sure if something was found in a wall and it's creepy, I hear about it three minutes after that story comes out. That's right. We appreciate you thinking about us. And we love you. You don't need to take further steps. So I can get away and thinking about us. All right.

Are you ready to dive in? Let's do it. That said, send us your actual stories. It happened to you. Yes. To my favorite murderous Gmail. Okay. And we begin with a subject line.

My mom survived a clown. Hi, Karen, Georgia and Steven. You're all bad bitches. Yes, Steven. You too. Thank you. I was, thank you on behalf of Steven. I was about, when I was about nine, I was at school and my mom was about to fight a fucking

clown. So it's a pretty regular morning for my mom. She's drinking coffee and getting ready. And as she goes to put more cream in her coffee, she sees something out of the corner of her eye and she turns and sees a clown. No, no, no, no, no, no. Really it was just a guy with a Halloween clown mask on as she drops the creamer and coffee and runs.

On her way out of the kitchen, he knocks her down and she hits her head on the hardwood floor. Oh my God. She regains her bearings in time to see him raising knife and she deflects it with her arm and gets cut on her neck a moment later. Oh my God. We're in this thing. We're in it.

This time she goes, oh fuck, I need to fight and hits the guy straight in the nose with her palm, which is fucking classic self-defense class. That's right. Fucking palm in the nose, break it up into our brain. That's right. And she throws him off for awesome. She runs to the bedroom and grabs a gun, turns around and cocks it right as he's in the doorway.

Holy shit. Yes. Apparently he cut his way through the screen in the open kitchen window from the backyard and climbed in. This is why I'm never going to live on a fucking ground floor. I mean, for real. The guy didn't get caught until years later when he did the same thing, but the cops got there in time to catch him.

Meanwhile, my school went on lockdown and all I thought of it was, why is this girl across the room crying? We're going to be okay. She only told me after I saw the 2018 winter tour and goes, oh, I guess she means her mom. Her mom only told her after she saw the 2018 winter tour and she goes, want to hear how I almost got murdered? What the fuck? Thank you all so much, Mac.

Holy shit. I mean, that is. I was waiting for it to be like, and it turned out to be her neighbors pretending to scare her. No. No. It was fucking real and her mom saved it until very recently. Good for her mom.

Her mom didn't even tell her when she was in school lockdown that that was like, oh no, that was because of me. It was because of me. Hey, remember we got, you got home and I had to change the screens. Badass. Dude. Also just bone chilling. It sounds like hacky when you hear it, but you're in your, in your kitchen, like stirring

up your coffee, just trying to wrap it up to go to work and you turn and there's a clown in your kitchen. Dude in a clown mask. No dude. No. Absolutely not. Get out. I reject you and I reject Satan, who you represent.

That's right. Okay. This one's called glowing eyes in the basement window and there's no intro because this is for real. Because we got to get to it. This episode's for real. Yep. I grew up in a super small town in Northern Wisconsin.

I was around 10 years old and my best friend and I were excited to go to a youth group at her church that night. Since her mom was part of the church's band, we had to get there early for them to rehearse. We got there. We were the only kids who went down to the basement where the group rooms were located to play around until, until groups started. The basement was broken up into four quadrants with each, each with their own lights. So we only had the lights on in our quadrant of the basement and the rest of the rooms

were dark. It was also dark outside by this time. So I'm feeling a little creeped out by being in this old church. There's also a window in that room that was at ground level and that says important. So we find a bouncy ball and we're bouncing it back and forth to each other when my friend bounces it wildly to me and I miss the catch. The ball proceeds to bounce off the walls and into the window sill that is kind of pushed back into the wall.

We follow the ball around the room and when it reaches said window sill, we both freeze because in this window, we can make out the outline of a head with the biggest glowing white eyes. We both look at each other with the same terrified face and start screaming as if we aren't scared enough already. As we start to run up the stairs, we can hear the figure fucking yelling, no, help me, no. We are practically in tears at this point and we run to her mom and explain what we saw.

She didn't believe us at first, of course, but we were both really distraught. So she finally agreed to investigate as we went outside. We could hear someone still yelling, help me, no. This is what my mom's face turned to. This is when her mom's face turned to an oh shit look, not knowing what the fuck could be behind this old church. My mom decided to call the cops so they could investigate good. Once they arrived, we went behind the church to find, not a terrifying glowing eyed creature,

but in fact, a poor old lady who had fallen off a ladder in her backyard. She had broken her legs so when she saw the basement light turn on, she crawled her way to the ground level window to see if we could help. Oh my God, it's scarier. It's scarier. Really? Huge old lady glasses were reflecting the light coming from the basement, which made her look absolutely terrifying.

I felt so bad afterwards that I'd taken us that long to get her help, but hey, better safe than sorry, SSGGM, your favorite rugby player, Shelby. Shit, Shelby. Hell yes. I know. First of all, my favorite girl's name, Shelby, I'm assuming, that is fucking. How scary is that? They really were seeing something.

It was real. And it was yelling, help me. It was real. It was a poor old lady. First of all, lady, what are you doing on your room? Lady, why are you in a ladder? You're an old lady. Ask your neighbor to help.

If your glasses are this thick, you should not get up on a ladder. Absolutely not. That's the sign I put next to all old lady ladders. Ask the army crawl to the basement window and is like, help me. Help me, my legs are broken. And then these little kids are screaming at you. Also like, oh, it's like she's been laying there all day and it's like the light comes on.

Oh, I'm so thirsty. Oh, God. I want a cup of tea. I wanted a cup of tea. A lemon balm tea. Oh, it's awful. So sad. Shit.

That was a good one. Yeah. Shelves. Okay. God, there's so many good ones in this, Steven. I'm like, Steven, you gave her all the good ones this time. Really good ones. Okay.

How about this? Subject line is, I never thought I would have anything to write. Surprise. Hello, Karen, Georgia, Steven, Elvis, Mimi, Dottie, Kitty, and my favorite Frank and George. I have a part hound dog as well. So I get it all. Jesus. Wow.

Okay. Oh, Dottie Kitty. Dottie Kitty is her hashtag on Instagram. Got it. Okay. So to start my story, I have been envious of all the people who have hometown murders. I realized that I had a paranormal story instead. So the apartment I grew up in used to be an old coffin factory.

Great. Perfect. Just like, why not buy that when gather all the children you can to move in? You know, I know you said you want my rent to be 1200 a month, but I'm going to pay 1300 just to live there. Yeah. Because that sounds great. Because what, what but great things can be happening at a coffin factory?

I want to fall asleep at night thinking about the coffins that were made here. On the conveyor belt of coffins. That's right. And all the great things. Okay. So listen to this shit. My dad would tell the stories about how some workers died when improperly using the equipment. What a dick your dad is.

I mean, that's a lot of love. Me at seven or so hearing a story about how a woman got her hair stuck in a machine and got her hair pulled out scalp and all. Jesus Christ. Yeah. Anyways, onto my story. That's not even the story. That's just an example of shit her dad said to her.

Oh dad. Go to sleep. Good night. Night night. Don't look for big glowing eyes in the church window. Okay. Okay. Onto my story.

As a child, our bathroom was across the hall from mine and my parents' room. So one night I was getting up and walking to the bathroom and there was a large lady with a feather in her hat in my way. She was blocking the bathroom and I really needed a piece so I started shouting at her like any child who didn't get what they wanted. Oh my God. What you wanted was to go to the bathroom. My dad woke up to me shouting at her and watched the whole thing.

The next morning he asked me what she looked like and I described to a tea what the wife of the owner of the coffin factory looked like. Other times in that apartment I would wake up feeling extremely trapped in my bed with all the sides blocked and no escape. Because it's a coffin. Much love Sarah. That's it. She's just gone.

Peace out. She and she like a lady with a feather in her hat ghost is just gone. Peace out. Peace baby. That's no story. Oh my God. Oh my God. Beautifully written.

Beautifully written so she as a child would wake up feeling like she was in a coffin. Oh my God. Peace out. Okay Mimi has placed her entire body on top of my stories. Oh look at this is called this story Mimi's Choice. Mimi wants to do what Mimi wants to do. Okay this one's called career advice from a mobster. Dear Karen, Georgia, Steven, Petz and Vince.

Oh. Thank you. I think he'd really appreciate that. I do too. I live in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn during the reign of the Gambino crime family. Oh shit. In the late 1980s a new family moved on to our block. They moved into a kind of rundown apartment but then renovated it themselves.

That was unheard of for renters to do. It's fucking right. Yeah. We came to hear rumors that the family, father of the family that moved in was involved in the mafia. Rumors like this were common but in this case it was true. Norman Dupont was an all around nice guy to his neighbors. He had a remote control starter for his SUV before they were common.

In case of car bombs, shit. He liked to start his car from the window of his second floor apartment while people were walking by and watched them jump with fright. What a day. One day around 1993 or 1994 I was waiting for the bus to go to the orthodontist. Norman pulled up to the bus stop and asked me where I was going and if I wanted to ride. I got in. Yes you did.

Because it was 93. And it was a big SUV. It was your neighbor. Yeah. It was crazy but back then, but back in that day it was okay. Sure. It was a bit awkward because everyone knew my father had just left and my parents were going through a bitter divorce.

That scenario wasn't common yet. He tried to make conversation. He asked what I wanted to do when I got older. I told him I didn't know. I was 13 or 14 at the time. And he said, you should become a funeral director. You could make a lot of money working with guys like me. Do you know what I do?

I couldn't tell if he was showing off, trying to act cool or what. I played it off and giggled. I couldn't wait to get out of the car. Shortly thereafter, he went to jail for murder and was sentenced to life plus 25 years. Shit. I saw the mafia take care of his wife and kids with envelopes for a few years after that. But that stopped. Reading about that time, linked below, he had already committed the murder that he was

convicted of when he was driving her in. Oh shit. Yikes. Stay sexy and don't take rides from hitmen. Wow. Yeah. Don't tell us not to take rides from hitmen when you fucking did it. You're the one.

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You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. There's two that are so good, but I guess I'll just read this one, save it for the next one. Okay. I'm not going to read you the subject line. Okay. Sup guys. I wanted to write you guys to share a story that my parents have recounted to me multiple

times throughout my life. And for years made me pretty uneasy when I'd go out for dinner at a hibachi restaurant. Oh no. When I was a baby, living it up in New Jersey, just a little baby having a good time in New Jersey. I love it. We're all the funds up. Living it up.

My parents decided to go out for dinner and sit at a hibachi table. With a baby? With a baby. What the hibachi chefs do, he began performing by doing knife tricks. That's didn't last long. No. However, because according to my dad, he lost control of one of the knives and it went hurtling towards my little baby body.

My dad saved my life by deflecting the knife with the side of his hand, which he still has a faint scar. Oh my God. Apparently after this incident, the chef began to cry hysterically and left the hibachi table. Holy shit. It's like a Benihana. Those people are so good at what they do and they do it so masterfully and they like crack

eggs on the side of knives and shit. Can you imagine one just bursting into tears? Yeah. It's so hilarious. Because he almost just killed a baby. Because he almost killed a baby. Oh, I wouldn't bring my, I'm sorry, but I would not bring my baby to a fucking hibachi table.

No judgment to her family. I bet they only did it a couple of times after that. But also what makes me think, did that guy get pressured into being a hibachi chef? Yeah. Or was he retiring the next day? It was, he had 40 years of an unmarked career and then this fucking bossy New Jersey baby comes up to his table. Baby's drunk as shit.

Just pointing, constantly pointing at the shrimp, flip that one. Yeah. Pointing it, pointing it, pointing. So much baby pointing. Can I do baby? Okay. Sometimes I think about him and hope he's doing okay. Because I know I wouldn't be.

Although this was over 20 years ago, the story still gets to me and I literally cannot look at a hibachi table without thinking of the thought of impending doom. Stay sexy and don't get impaled, Mary. That was, that's the perfect, we also asked for, like when your parents almost killed you stories, that was a great one. It's a great, it's version of. Can I just do a real quick one, please? This one's called My Grandmother, Bita Nazi.

Yes. I feel like we own, it's like a good time in our lives for this. Hello, long time listener, first time writer. My grandmother, Wilma, grew up in Germany in World War II. Some of the families in her community took turns hiding a box in their houses. This box contained valuables that belong to the Jewish, other Jewish families in town. Once the Nazi soldiers heard of this, they wanted to put a stop to it. When the soldiers came to my grandmother's door, her dog was barking, this gets said.

So fucking, so a fucking Nazi shot and killed her dog. Wilma, who was 10 to 12 years old at this time, was so upset she bit the Nazi. Her family was punished and she eventually was able to flee to England before settling in Canada. She never spoke much about her childhood, but someone from a community paper interviewed her and published her story in a paper. I thought you would like the story about a badass little girl biting a Nazi, Erin. Now I'm crying.

Now I'm crying. Oh no. We hate Nazis so much. Also it's just like, think of any fucking World War II Nazi movie that you've seen and how oppressive and awful their presence is and they go into these towns and take over and fucking turn people against each other and their monsters. And this little girl's just like, you fucking killed my dog. I don't give a shit what you do.

Yeah. You killed my dog. I'm going to do the only thing I can. I'm going to bite you. Yeah. And you fucking deserve it. You goddamn Nazi. Oh.

I love Wilma. Wilma. Yeah. I also love, it's that's such a great idea that like then she emigrates to England, she emigrates to Canada, she vug and lives her private life. And then somebody sits her down and goes, hey, what's, give me some highlights. Do you have any stories? Oh.

Yeah. I got a story for you. I've been a Nazi once. Yeah. As a child. And I'm here to tell the tale. So bad. Send us your stories.

We love them. They're the best. God damn it. That was such a good batch. Yeah. And thank you guys for listening and writing and we love it. And stay sexy. And don't get murdered.

Goodbye. Goodbye. And come out meow again. Yeah. Mimi. Do you want a cookie? Did it hurt? Yeah.

Elvis do you want a cookie too? Want a cookie. NNN'mAa!