Morbid - Listener Tales 33

Episode Date: November 4, 2021

We are back to our regularly scheduled listener tales! Installment 33 of listener tales brought to you by you, for you, from you and all about you features an unconventional dentist trip, a lady who lives in a drain, a “gives no F’s” mom and so much more! Enjoy! As always, thank you to our sponsors: Simplisafe: Take advantage of SimpliSafe’s holiday sale and get 40% off your new home security system by visiting SIMPLISAFE.com/MORBID Aurate: For 25% off your first Aurate purchase, go to AurateNewYork.com/morbid15 and use promo code morbid15. Hunter Douglas: Visit HunterDouglas.com/morbid TODAY to take advantage of the Season of Style rebate savings event. Firstleaf: get 6 bottles of wine for $29.95 and free shipping at TRY Firstleaf dot com slash morbid. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hey, Prime members, you can listen to morbid, early, and ad-free on Amazon music. Download the app today. You're listening to a morbid network podcast. Whether you're running errands on your daily commute, or even at home, you can enjoy all your audio entertainment in one app, the Audible app. As an Audible member, you can choose one title a month to keep from the entire catalog. This includes the latest bestsellers and new releases. Plus get full access to a growing selection of included audiobooks, audible originals,

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That's W-O-N-D-E-R-Y-P-O-D. Audible.com slash wondery pod or text wondery pod to 500-500 to try audible for free for 30 days. Angie has made it easier than ever to connect with skilled professionals to get all your home projects done well. Whether it's routine maintenance and emergency repair or a dream project, Angie lets you browse home on her reviews, compare quotes from multiple local pros, and even book a service instantly. So the next time you have a home project, just Angie that and start getting the most out

of your home. Download the free Angie mobile app today or visit Angie.com. That's ANGI.com. Hey, weirdos. My name happens to be Ash. And I was given the name Alaina. You were. That I was. And this podcast was given the name morbid.

It was. a good all-encompassing name. Yeah, you know? Yeah. Well, we're like 200 and something episodes in and we're like, hey, don't you think the name works? I think we're like at 300 if you count the list in her tails, which. Oh, hey, oh, segue. segue. segue. Operated vehicle that Paul Blart drives through the mall.

Exactly, it's a list in her tails episode, guys. Can you tell? Can you tell? Because it's always when we're punch guys. Can you tell? Can you tell? Because it's always one more punchy. We're always feeling punchy and we got some good ones today. We do, and you know what? I'm gonna go ahead and here you go. Hand it to you.

Hand it to me. Because I feel like you picked a lot of these. I went back in the archives a little bit. I went because it's hard because we get the new ones and then those are the first ones we see. So we'll kind of pick from those a lot of the times, but I was like, no, we got to go back. Yeah, you got to go back a million that we've missed that just, you know, because they keep on coming, which we love. The archives are where it's at. So don't worry, if you haven't heard yours yet,

it doesn't mean we're not going to use it. It's just that we haven't gotten it to, we haven't gotten to it yet. But I promise you we are trying and we have about a zillion more less in our tales episodes ready to go. So there's one in here from February 15th of last year. Exactly, and in fact that's the one that I'm gonna read right now. Okay. It is called a not so good neighbor whose dumbass tried to eat himself to his death and the mistake that haunts me to my core.

Amazing. That's quite a subject line. I love it. How I didn't see it before now, I don't know. So this says, you may use my first name in last initial as listed. It's longer than I anticipated. I give you full permission to edit and crop anyways you see fit in order to meet the allotted time and or eliminate any unnecessary details,

please pick my story LOL. We are. We'll pick your story but we'll never eliminate any unnecessary details because we think they're all necessary. No more brevity. No, hey, Ashina, my name is Whitney E. Hi Whitney E. Hello, and I'm a lifetime listener. I lifetime listener. Not a long time listener of the show. I'm practically obsessed. I've listened to countless listeners' episodes and always think, I really need to write in about my old neighbor, but I've never taken the time.

Until now, thank you for choosing to share my story. Buckle up my down bitches. It's about to get real weird. I live in a small southern town, population 3,500. That's like no one. At 18, the day after high school graduation, I moved out on my own. Wow, that's a lot of fun.

Look at you. I was so proud and excited for this move and found in my newfound independence. I'm excited for you. I am too. My complex had multiple buildings. There were eight apartments in each. On my side of the building, when facing it, I was placed in the bottom left apartment. There was a young couple with a newborn baby that I'd never seen before moving in,

living directly to the right of me and two couples almost had cousins. Two cousins upstairs. Two cousins living upstairs. Nope, two couples living upstairs, both of which I'd sort of always known casually and seen around town. Hey, hey, what's up? Hey, casual couple.

Hey, good to see you. What's going on? I had only been there a few weeks, a month's top. A month's, what, I get, you good. It's not my day to speak. Guys, it's not my day. A month's tops. A month's tops.

When late one evening, I had a knock at my door. I opened it to find an older lady, weakened frail, who asked if I'd seen the young couple with the baby that day. I told her I had not, but would be glad to give them a message when I did. She told me no, that wasn't necessary, and explained to that, that was her daughter in sun and law,

and that she'd stopped by, back by later. She thanked me for the offer, and apologized for having bothered me. My God, you're no bother. I told her it was no problem at all. It wasn't. She turned, feebly shuffling a few steps towards the parking lot, then frozen her tracks

and spun around. Oh, suddenly I don't feel safe anymore. Now she had tears in her eyes. Oh, okay, now I feel like an eye. I asked her if she was okay. Through her tears and her voice cracking, she responded, can I ask a favor of you? Unsure where this was going, I hesitated, I don't blame you.

But I couldn't, but I could answer, oh my god. But before I could answer. I don't know why I can't read today, guys, this just not happening. Maybe I'll be an excellent fucking reuse. I hope so for the listener's sake, because I'm really botched in that. I mean, guys, don't get excited.

I hesitated, but before I could answer, she continued. What'd she say? I need you to promise me, if you ever hear anything unusual I mean, guys, do get excited. I hesitated, but before I could answer, she continued. What she said. I need you to promise me, if you ever hear anything unusual coming from their apartment, you will call the police. They've been fighting a lot since the baby came, and sometimes it gets out of hand. I worry, I fear he might hurt her or the baby. My God. Her tears were flowing freely now, and I stuttered, attempting to respond.

I told her, of course, I would, vowing to call the police if I ever heard anything out of the ordinary. You're an angel. She smiled through the tears, said, God bless you, honey, and turned and walked away into the night. I just got that thing when your body goes, yes, where it radiates for a minute. It just would be me very sad. Wow, what a mess. That poor young wife and her poor baby, I felt so awful for them. And imagine being her mother and like your elderly and frail, It would be me very sad. Wow, what a mess. That poor young wife and her poor baby,

I felt so awful for them. And imagine being her mother and like you're elderly and frailing your like, I do. How helpless you feel. Right, like what can I do other than just ask their neighbor to please call the police? There's so many instances of that where you see like this poor family

member, poor parent, poor mother, poor father, that they're helpless. And imagine seeing you can't do anything about it. Your baby with a baby in like a man that's treating her terribly. I can't imagine. Because your kids are always your babies, I guess. Of course.

No, this is like really sad. I went on about my daily life, never forgetting my promise, always keeping an eye out and ears open for any signs of domestic violence. This piece of shit was beating on his wife and getting violent around their newborn, held to the no, not on my watch. Screw this asshole, the sight of him nauseated me after that.

Good for you. Yes, actual queen. Yes, only a week had gone by before I had to make good on my promise. Oh no. It was late in the evening, pitch black outside, and I was watching television. Out of nowhere, the most blood-curdling scream I've ever heard in real life echoed through my apartment and sent chills down my spine.

Oh my god, I'm so mad. Imagine? No. A few seconds passed, and there was another. And then another. I called 911 as fast as I could and requested an officer come to a welfare check. The dispatcher told me she had an officer in route.

I met him in the parking lot and explained the screams I'd heard and the visit from the older lady. I pointed to their apartment and watched the officer approach it. He knocked. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer. This pattern continued for several minutes. After being unable to rouse any response, the officer began shining his flashlight into the windows of the unlit apartment. He said, everything appeared to be in order, and there was no one, no one seemed to be homeed.

Oh my God, they didn't seem to be homeed. But yeah, I don't know, man. Is there a mirror so I can say, ma'am, are you okay? What is going on? Why don't you leave and do some self-reflection? Hold on, ready? Okay, that always works.

It always works. All right, so no one seemed to be home. Okay. I'm not. Why don't you leave and do some self-reflection? Hold on, ready? Booh It's on the board now. We'll see if it's confirmed. Thank you. Thank you. You know, the guy that has all the issues. I reminded him of what the lady had said of the history of violence. And he decided to question the other neighbors upstairs. One couple wasn't home, but the couple in the fourth apartment did answer the door. The officer asked if they'd heard any screams. They seemed surprised and stated they did not. Of course they didn't. They didn't share a wall with them like I did. Back in the parking lot, I pleaded with the officer, swearing the screams I heard were real and came from someone in complete terror and distress. He suggested it may have come from the television, but told me to call this batch again if I hear anything else.

I laid in bed that night, worrying about that young mother and her baby. Had you drove her away just before the cops arrived? Had he made her hide in the apartment while the officer knocked on the door? For hours I waited for the sound of any kind to come from the other side of the wall, but none ever came. A few days later, it was still fresh on my mind and I came home from work to find my apartment door standing wide open. No, thank you. I thought, oh shit, he knows it was me that ratted him out. He must be trying to send me a message. I stood there frozen and breathless, trying to decide what to do. When the upstairs couple I'd known the longest came walking up the sidewalk.

The look on my face must have been a dead giveaway of the panic that consumed me. I explained I'd just come home and found the door wide open. I told them I'd call the police on the man next door a couple of nights ago, and he must have figured out it was me. The husband offered to walk through the apartment with me to make sure it was clear. His wife stood outside, keeping an eye out for the abuse of neighbor. What a good neighbor! I know! What a good side of neighbors.

After searching every inch of my apartment, we decided there was no one inside, and I couldn't immediately notice that anything was out of place. I then told them about the visit from the older lady, and asked them to also watch and listen for anything unusual. They were just as mortified as I had been and agreed. The man told me if I ever needed to come upstairs and get him to call or gave me his phone number. This brought me great comfort knowing I wasn't in the building

with this crazy abuser all by myself, and that someone else was aware of what was going on now. I thanked him for going inside with me and for that offer to be there any time I needed them. Just a few nights later, it happened again. The same blood-curdling scream ripped through my apartment and I immediately called dispatch. The same officer responded and remembered the situation clearly. He immediately knocked

on their door, and we were both surprised when the young man answered the door with a smile on his face. The officer informed him that there had been reports of woman screaming, possibly within his apartment. He assured the officer no screams had come from his apartment, nor had he heard any. This liar, ugh. The officer asked if his wife was home. I stood behind the door wanting to hear the exchange, but also hoping I wasn't entirely visible for my position, cowering behind him. Almost instantaneously the young mother appeared in the doorway next to her husband, baby

in her arms. The officer asked if everything was all right and stated there's been reports of screams. She smiled at the officer and stated everything was fine and she had not heard anything, she had not heard anything either. She added the newborn had been fussy earlier and said maybe that's what the screams people heard. Weird. Hey there fellow podcast listener, it's Elena. And Ash! And we're taking you back to the days before streaming services. Whoa! You know when you would come home from high school and it was only a few hours until that TV show

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

Join us as we sway our way through Buffy's drama, action, and romance. Episode by episode. Slacy. Follow the re-watcher Buffy the drama, action, and romance. Episode by episode. Slacy. Follow the rewatcher, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen early and add free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Darn, un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un-un- This piece of shit had her so well groomed and brainwashed that you couldn't detect even the slightest hint of trouble.

She was lying for and covering for this man. She was afraid. I was far too familiar with domestic violence, having lived through it my entire childhood. I'm sorry you went through that. And I understood the game. I was seconded at how good she was at this. How much practice had this poor woman had lying for, covering for, and defending this piece of garbage. He had complete control over her. It was another sleepless night. I knew

the likelihood that she was being punished for screaming loud enough to draw attention, despite her picture-perfect performance to the officer. Soon after that, I discovered I was pregnant with a baby of my own. Congratulations. And moved out of the apartment, still with my boyfriend, and prepared for our baby. Oh, I'm so excited for you. I never saw them again, but I thought about them from time to time, especially as I grew closer to being in their situation, stressed new mom,

and was thankful I didn't have to worry about the same trouble she did. I'm glad you didn't. I hoped and prayed she found a way to get away from him and that her and the baby were safe somewhere. I love how empathetic you are. I know. Like what do you sound like? You're such a human. I was gonna safe somewhere. I love how empathetic you are. I know. Like what do you sound like?

You're such a human. I was gonna say it. I'm sure you're gonna be like an amazing mother because that's like some real, like empathy is so important. It is. Finally, my due date came. I was induced and waned the night. I gave birth to a beautiful perfect baby boy.

I got some. We were over the moon. Of course, this was before the pandemic back when you were allowed to have visitors in the hospital. The next morning, I had several. Yay. At some point, one of the visitors asked us if we heard about the murder. Oh. My husband and I were both clueless and asked what murder?

They replied the murder in unnamed departments. Apparently, the guy lost it and killed his wife. Oh. My heart sunk and my stomach jumped into my throat. He had killed her. Oh my God, he'd really done it. Word is, another tenant came out this morning and found the man naked, covered in blood, and unable to stand up.

My heart pounded, who I demanded to know. They uttered the name and I recognized it immediately. I had the sudden urge to vomit in the room around me began to spin. My thoughts raced. I stared in disbelief. He had to be mistaken. That wasn't possible.

Did he really just say, yes, he did. My husband turned on the news, which confirmed it. Yes, a man had killed his wife in the apartment complex. But the name ringing through the hospital room was not that of the young aboot. Beuse of man next door I'd been so worried about. What? The bloody naked man found in the bushes unable to stand was in fact immobilized

by two fractured ankles and a fractured vertebra. The results of a possible fall later determined to be a jump from his second story balcony. To my absolute shock and horror, it was the man from upstairs. It was the man who I had always known from being around town. It was the man who had answered the door that first night I called the police and denied hearing any screams, though they'd actually came from his apartment.

It was the man who so graciously offered to help me search my apartment for an intruder or damaged property. The man who'd broken in himself to send me that message, hoping it would scare me enough to shut me up. It was the man I'd confided in about the abuser next door, the man that was comfort- I was comforted by. Simply knowing he was close by if I needed him. It was the man I trusted.

What the fuck? Blowing my brain apart. Are you- What the fuck blowing my brain apart? Are you, what the fuck do, he walked through her whole apartment and he was the one who had done it. The chills have chills. And her wife was the one standing outside guarding for this abuser that they were worried about.

Which I'm like, so did she know, like, that's so confusing. She didn't want to say like it was me who was screaming all night. She would have gotten. She must have been to know. So she was standing there knowing that this was her. Yeah. And like, what a, what a twisted fucking thing to see her abuse of husband do. Yeah. Just like walk in and comfort this girl who's scared of an abuse of man who was him. According to the news reports and court documents, after police tended to the injured man, they entered the apartment to find the wife in their bedroom deceased.

She had been beaten, choked, and stabbed to death. I was mortified. And to this day, 12 years later, I trust no one. He pled guilty by reason of insanity. It was sentenced to 24 years in a state prison. I often wonder what might have happened if that old lady hadn't showed up in my doorstep. If I hadn't been preconceived, if I hadn't had preconceived ideas about the situation and continuously pointed police in the wrong direction, would they have investigated other apartments further, discovered the true source, and given the woman the opportunity she needed to

get away from that man. Did I take those chances away from her? These are questions I'll always ask but never really know the answers to. No. You did the right thing. Absolutely. You did. Nothing you did had anything to do with this.

If anything, you were bringing attention to the apartment complex. Which could have helped had it not been the timing that it was. Exactly. It was not at all. You did everything you were supposed to do. You were a great neighbor, a great friend, and a great freaking stranger to somebody. A great freaking human. There are two things I know for certain.

Number one, I had the best intentions at heart, even though I was fighting for the wrong woman. Exactly. Number two, you never truly know anyone. Absolutely, you don't. That's my story. I thank you so much for reading and sharing it. This is the only one of a few stories I have to share

with you, more to come send them. Yes. Thank you for bringing attention to so many victims and their families and keeping the memories alive. Kudos for always making me laugh. It's much needed in this weird time we're living in. Stay safe and keep it real, like the bad bitches you are. Keep it weird, but not so weird that you ever trust a neighbor or think you know anyone.

Not so weird that you live in apartments around a bybeuse of men. Not so weird that you invited a arrange soon to be murdered into your apartment to make you feel safe and comforted. And not so fucking weird that you'd ever commit murder, strip down naked and jump off a two-story balcony thinking that that fall will kill you and not just fuck you up real bad. Not that weird. Everyone keep your distance, mask up and never ever trust a neighbor. Whitney, eat. I'm obsessed.

Whitney? Holy shit. What a story, first of all, and two, what a way to tell that story. You fucking storyteller. That was sad is. That was cinematic, the way you told that story. You had me going for so long,

and when I reached that point where it was like, oh, here's a fucking twist. Yeah. I didn't see it coming. No, neither did I. I didn't feel like I was in a totally different universe. That was not the twist that I thought coming. I thought this whole thing was haunted.

Whitney, you killed it. Thank you so much for sending that, and I'm so glad you are safe. I hope that you and your baby are happy as fucking clams. Yes, congratulations on the new baby. And I hope everybody's safe and healthy because you are a wonderful person. I just can't believe that like the older lady

was talking about the people downstairs and then the same exact situation was happening upstairs. Yes, that's so wild. And it's so sad that two men like that can be in the same apartment building. Seriously. One floor away from apartment building. Seriously. One floor away from each other?

Seriously. That's a really sad state of affairs when you think about the probability of that. Damn. I wonder if the upstairs neighbor's had a baby and maybe the woman was just confused. Do you think sound like they did? I don't think so, but I was just hoping that everybody was in a shit state. No. I mean, I think it's literally, I mean, just treat the people you love with love.

Like, what the fuck? Half of the... Or leave with someone if you don't want them. Like, don't treat people that you are supposed to love shitty. No. Oh, I just, I can't. My brain doesn't go there. No, it's horrible.

Like, okay, there is no good segue, but here is my next tale. It is called Listener Tales. Money grew on fucking trees, man, but wait, drugs, arson, murder, and suicide too. Girl, what the actual fuck? Yep, true story. Read this guys. It will not disappoint.

And it's in a putt of fa. That is literally the same. That's a subject. And I literally love you. That's the one we need. Love you so much. Deer Elena Nash and my fellow weirdos. You can use my name because if you do read this

on the podcast, I will forever... Uh oh. Sorry, I transferred it to you. My brain was just like, in just short circuit it a little bit. You can use my name because if you do read this on the podcast, I will forever be in my mind a celebrity. My name is Stacey. Stacey! Stacey's mom!

That was the name you've got in your first car. Anyways, I will start with the normal fan girl rant and say that I truly love your podcast so much. Thank you. Like literally, I don't even listen to any other true crime podcast because they are nowhere close to morbid. That's so nice.

I know what it is. There's a lot of great ones. I will tell you. They're not. I'm sure they are good or whatever, but you're going to set the standard very high. That's like some very nice. I'm like so uncomfortable good or whatever, but you're gonna set the standard very high. That's like some very nice design. I'm like so uncomfortable in a happy way.

I know. You truly give me so much comfort and make my mornings beautifully more but on my way to work. And you have gotten me through some really dark times. So in the last thing I thought I could do was smile. And then I turn on your lovely podcast and get lost with you guys.

And with 10 minutes, I'm laughing so hard. I come right back into the moment of almost peeing my pants and forgetting whatever it was that I was upset about Wow I love hearing that Christ Thank you for that I grew up on date line same and all true crime documentaries So finding you girls was like Christmas morning I listened to all your podcasts that I literally can't wait for the next one to come out you guys are awesome

I never really thought I had a listener tails of my own up until recently I'm not a great writer and it is likely that I'll ramble, but here we go. Don't worry because I am the ramblyist rambler. Although this isn't murder, it is true crime and some truly wild true crime at that. And if you end up sharing this on the pod, I will be over the moon happy like a dog with two tails. We'll start wagging those two tails. I'm obsessed with that, like, phrase. I work at a small family owned woodworking company. The kind that everyone works there has been

there for as long as I've been alive. If not longer, I'm 28. I'm a customer service representative and I truly love going to work every day. I love that. I love that so much. I work in the main office building. However, there are about three to four warehouses behind the main office and one down the street where all the forklift drivers are. Machine operators that manufacture our product and the product themselves are. Back story. I am literally the baby of the company and have only been here six years compared to some people who are 25 plus or have been there 25 years plus. I tend to make friends easily because I haven't ever

met a stranger in my life and with that being, I always need a lot of interesting people. I loved the fact that I worked with all sorts of different people from introverts to extroverts to bikers and hippies. They are all truly wonderful people around here and I'm thankful for that. Oh, I love this. This sounds so beautiful. Wow, get it. Do you work in a star's hollow?

Yeah. After being with the company, I'd gotten to know almost everyone over the years. And even though the variety of people I ended up having good relationships with, pretty much, even through the variety of people, I ended up having good relationships with pretty much everyone and we became more like family. The guys out back became like my old tippy-grimp, as I never had. And the office people became some of my greatest friends. Here we go.

What a rare place, that's wonderful. Yeah, I feel like I've never had a job like that other than this one. And that's because I only have one coworker. Like I love this for you. I really jump like happy for you. This is an ideal job. You should go, what do you like? Stacy, I'm very happy for you.

Yeah, you deserve this. You guys should do job fairs and just tell everybody how to work. Tell everybody that. Because I would work there if I didn't work here Just get it Stacy. Let's go Here we go fast forward to another day to the other day when one of my co-workers and I are talking about your podcast We started talking about different true crime shows documentaries and we both shared a couple stories side note I really do have to thank you for getting this conversation going. Oh, you're welcome as my co-worker And I were sharing stories,

he began to tell me about a book written about a nearby county, Madison County, Arkansas. This is a county away from the county I live in currently, Washington County, and the county where my coworker had grown up. He asked me if I had ever heard of this book, I'll link it below. And I told him that I had not ever read the book, but I knew of it. The book was basically about a small country, sorry, the book, country and county look exactly

the same. They do. The book was about a small county country, country county life. Thank you. That's hard one. The book was about a small country county. There you go. Thank you.

And the corrupt sheriff and lots and lots of pot Mary Jane, Gondra and Gorgia Marijuana to some. There you go. Thank you. With a corrupt sheriff and lots and lots of pot Mary Jane, Gondra and or just marijuana to some. I love you. There is a point in this book to remember. There is a point to this book so remember this part. What if you were trafficked into a cult over shot nine times or fell in love with a vampire or went into a minor surgery and woke up one week later, paralyzed. What would you do? I'm Whit Missaldine, the creator of this is actually happening, a podcast from Wondry that brings you extraordinary true stories of life-changing events told by the people who lived them.

From a young man that dooms his entire future with one choice, to a woman who survived a notorious serial killer. You'll hear their first-person account of how they overcame remarkable circumstances. Each episode is an exploration of the human spirit and personal discovery. These haunting accounts sound like Hollywood movies, but I assure you this is actually happening. Follow this is actually happening wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to ad free on the Amazon Music or Wundery app. I should probably mention that the county did not just have a corrupt sheriff.

There was a corruption all over. And just like any other drug deal in Poe Dunc Town, snitches get stitches. I had to say that like, oh, oh, oh. I believe that's how the kids say it. But if you have no clue what I'm referring to, then it's if someone were to tell on someone else for illegal activity, and well,

it would be handled one way or the other if you know what I mean. I love you so much, Stacey. You're adorable. I wanna be like, we're just other if you know what I mean. I love you so much, Stacy. You're adorable. I want to be like, wink wink. You were just both of us at the same time. Yes. That was amazing.

It was great. Drawing completely to this story already, because again, it's only a county over from where I live. My coworker goes on and says, well, one day there was a guy, one very unlucky guy, who decided to snitch and or tell on someone. I'm not sure the drama behind it, but I did learn that this unlucky fellow was taken into the woods and got... No. Oh, no.

And got each one of his teeth... I have to hold onto my teeth when I say that, though. Fuck my life. Each one of his teeth pulled out one by one. First snitching. Oh, my fucking god. Yupp, every single one, dude lived too. Oh!

I would not want to live to tell that tale. Oh, fuck that. Oh, my god. Oh, I hate it. Somebody pressed my life alert. Mm, ooh, shook. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. That's morbid as fuck, I said. Sure is. And I couldn't even believe what I was hearing. That's morbid as fuck I said.

Sure is. And I couldn't even believe the guy had lived. Don't get me wrong. I did feel bad for the poor bastard, but he didn't die. So I guess that's a good way of looking at it, but that's me they're here and we're there. Oh my.

Oh, I need to breathe for a second. My coworker, he continues his story and mind you. Just like the others, he has been at the company for a long time. He proceeds and told me that when he first started working here, he had to go over to one of the warehouses to put up some posters. This co-worker was in the marketing department. And that there would be a nice old hippie looking dude to meet him at the warehouse.

As he gets to the warehouse, he is greeted by the nice old hippie looking dude just as he's told. The two of them start talking and find out they're both from Madison County. They continue talking about where they lived and if they knew the same people, you know, small town kind of stuff. And then just as casual as can be, hippie looking old dude turns to my co-worker and says, yeah, I have a nickname out there in Madison County. They call me the dentist.

I'd be like, is that because you have a degree in dental? I'd be like, is that because you have a degree in dental? In a medicine. Is that because you're a dentist? Are you a DMD, sir? Did you used to work at Aspen? A DDS, perhaps. Are you from Aspen? Please tell me you are.

Help. Do you have a practice? I'm scared. Mom, can you pick me up? Yikes. I had goosebumps and literal full body chills. I couldn't pull that out of me as well. So close, so close to home, it was just so wild to me

that this small last county had shit like this happening in it. And on top of all of that, I had met this person, this dentist, if you will. Oh my gosh. Do you remember one of the old hippie grandpa's that I never had? Yes, yes.

Who I'm like, you never had one of those. Who I mentioned in the beginning of the story. Yeah. I shit you not. One of my fake Gramps, who I considered his family, was the old hippie dude my coworker had met on his first day, known as the dentist. Oh my God!

This is fucked. Old hippie Gramps, I'm not gonna say his name, because I'm scared, was the mother fucking dentist. I could not believe it. That's what it dawned on me, that holy shit. I have a fucking listener tale finally. You do. I know, but it is what it is.

I'm not gonna lie about it. Still in shock, I could not believe that this is the same bleep, who was one of those old men, sorry, I'm sure. I was gonna say, I'm very shaken up. Who was one of those old men who would constantly be laughing so hard

he would just start coughing because of all the cigarettes he smoked. You know the same, yes. You know the kind. And the very same chill ass bleep who was stoned most of the time and cracking jokes at any given moment. He needed a different kind of devil's lettuce

because I've never been on the devil's lettuce that made me want to remove a fellow man's team. Yeah, he needed some different kind the same guy who always reminded me of a mix between Willie Nelson and Jack Nicholson Oh, it's too great. I was gonna say that's what I want to know him But now I don't what a combination and who I smoked joints with at Christmas parties I would never smoke anything with that man. That is not what you think don't do it. That is PCP smoke anything with that man. That is not what you think don't do. That is PCP.

That is something. No way of, like that's just teeth. You're smoking teeth. You're smacking teeth. There is teeth in your blanch, ma'am. No way. No fucking way could it be. But it was.

The same old fucking guy, aka old hippie Gramps, was the same damn guy who took people out to the woods and pulled their teeth out for snitching on him and is known as the dentist. That's more fun. Turns out he went to prison for his dentisting on him and is known as the dentist. More fun. Turns out he went to prison for his dentist role, so I guess it's public record. Wowsers. I can say his thank god I was nice to him.

And honestly, dude served his time and turned out pretty alright. Funny as hell if anything. God, what a way to look at it. I feel like you were like the glasses just straight up full. Yeah, it's so full. So full. So full. So full.

So full. So how does the book play into all of So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat. So fat associated with said crimes. There could be a lot of talk, yeah, there could be a lot of talk about the dentist in this book as well. Fun fact I heard once from someone in Madison County that as soon as the book came out that everyone who was involved bought the book for the sole reason just to see if they would get arrested or were named in the book. Honestly, like I would probably do the same thing. They say my name. They say my name. And then I learned to be author of the book. Oh, slit his own throat. Oh, our parking lot in 2009 just six years after writing the book. Wow. Straight from my old house, but not after writing about the outlaw sheriff on Madison County, who quote, died in a car accident on roads he knew or to others, he knew the FBI was about to come get him. And he tied his hands with his belt around the steering wheel of his car

and drove off a bridge and drowned to death and couldn't get untied in case he changed his mind. What a sentence, sister. Whoa! This book is called, When Money grew on trees, the true tale of a marijuana... Moon Shiner? Thank you,hiner in the

outlaw sheriff of Madison County Arkansas. Whoa. Y'all Arkansas is a wild fucking place. Arkansas is the wild wild. You are the wild wild west out there man. So yeah, there's my listener tale. Ash, take it away. Keep it weird but not so weird that you take people into the middle of the woods and you take out their teeth one by one and then you call yourself the dentist and then you smoke weed with the sweet girl named fucking Stacy and she has no idea and then you middle of the woods and you take out their teeth one by one and then you call yourself the dentist and then you smoke weed with a sweet girl named, fucking Stacy and she has no idea and then you blow her fucking mind

and you blow me in a lane as mine because your name is the dentist and you took somebody's teeth out one by one. I don't even wanna talk about it anymore. I have to go be alone by. Yeah, I mean, I'm with Ash on that one, that was a lot. I need to be alone. But Stacy, wow.

Stacy, you're story of how to go. When you started, oh man, I have a listener tail. I was, wow. Stacy, you're story of housing. Oh man, I have a listener tale. I was like, you do, you sure do. Wow. You do. That is what we call a listener tale. Wow. That's a wild one.

Arkansas. You guys all right. And pulled out his teeth. No. One by one. I want to get past that. And then just worked at a warehouse and was like, well, would you like a hit of this joint?

Yeah. I would love to get past this. Because now all my teeth feel warehouse and was like, I'm all, would you like a hit of this joint? Yeah, I would love to get past this. Because now all my teeth feel like they're like, just moving around in my head. I, that's so crazy. I feel like I need to like keep my mouth shut, like keep them in. Okay.

I don't like it. Yeah, I'm freaked out. Oh, thanks. Stay tuned about it. Woof. All right, so the next one I have is I'm cursed. And somebody should have told them it's never a man. Again, somebody should have.

Somebody should have. All right, hello ladies. I'm sending this to you as a Canadian fan. Hey Canada, Kanada. We love Canadians over here. Canadians. Who found your podcast in February 2021? Hey, look at that.

I'm already in the early 200s episodes because I listen to you whenever I work nights. Wow. Perfect time to listen when I'm all alone in a dimly lit building, right? Yeah, that's actually why we started the show. Exactly. For people like you.

But you are such great researchers and your banter leaves me laughing out loud to myself. Thank you. Thanks. So you make the time pass faster and feel less lonely. I find it very hard to stick to podcasts because I have ADHD. And part of that makes it impossible for my brain to follow certain voices. But I could listen to

you both, both of you talk all day. That's really nice of you to say. Really nice call them. Yeah. To start this off, you can call me B. Hi B. Huge. That's adorable. I have two tales for you. One spooky and one crimey. So I'll try to keep it to the point, but it's a mess up in this brain. So bear with me. You don't even understand how much that resonates. I feel like I feel you. I'm like, I'm thinking so many different things right now. There you go. As I said in my email subject, I'm cursed. I don't know how this came to me, but I've had it as long as I can remember. I'm real sorry about that. It's a bummer. It started as a birthday curse. Every year bad happened, things would happen on my birthday.

To the point where I stopped having parties around age 10 to instead Just have one friend so things could be more go with the flow. Oh, I'm sorry. That sucks Things still happen pet deaths cancer diagnosis unexplained allergic reaction injured to needing to go to the ER three times You get the idea I do and I'm so sorry But it honestly became so commonplace, my whole family would just prepare themselves. Any who, once I turned 30, I love your attitude about this. You're just like, well, fuck it. Any hell, like let's do this.

What are you gonna do? Yeah, once I turned 30, my birthday curse became a full-blown life curse. Oh, no. My life now is kind of like being in a constant state of treading water and cement shoes and occasionally having my head dunked under all the way. That makes me really sad.

I'm not often piled with many things at once, but the stream is pretty constant. Man, if I could do anything, like I wanna do, like have a happy day spell for you or something. I think I have a book of like a thousand spells with a fairly figured out. It's Manifest Good Vibes your way.

You deserve it. My best friend says I should write a book, but my sister says the randomness of it all, as you say with some of your cases, would leave people saying, no way, this is too much. This would never happen in real life. Yeah, but that's the best. Yeah, I wanna read a book, that's the best.

But here I am. I won't get into a lot of it because, well, trauma. But this next part leads to the spooky part and actually ties into me finding your podcast. Clearly I've been kind of conditioned myself to find silver lining. Good for you. You're a great person. A lot of people don't do that. So earlier this year my curse landed me in a situation where I would need surgery. Again trauma, so excuse the vague details. No worries. Nothing life threatening, that's good. But who likes surgery? No.

I left that day telling my kids I would see them by bedtime. I checked in, met the doctor, went under anesthetic for a quick procedure, only to wake up, not in recovery, but at the nurses station, some two hours later, with nurses and five ambulance crew rushing around me. The doc came up to me, sat by my head and said, you and I just had an experience together. What? We barely began surgery when you began to bleed out. You lost 4.5 liters of your blood before I could get you to stop.

Holy shit. A person your size has about 5.5 liters. We only replace 3.5 for safety reasons and we are going to fly you to larger hospital for testing and hopefully to safely finish the procedure. Oh my god! I've been doing this for 17 years and have never had anything like this happen before. All I could think to reply was, well, you've never had the misfortune to operate on me. Oh my god, that's the fact that you had just lost four and a half liters of blood in your like

blood. It's sad. You were just like, hey, you're an icon. Cut to the longest eight days of my life. More unfortunate events, of course, lots of tests with no explanation as to why this happened. A bad drug reaction, thread of losing an organ, an extra procedure, missing the heck out of my kids because they couldn't come visit, because COVID.

But you ladies were my entertainment. Oh man, holy shit, I'm so happy that we were. I'm so happy we were there. I could give you a hug if I could. I had to be laying down with only two short walks a day since I was so anemic. You kept me sane. Eventually, the original procedure happened

and I was able to go home for a long recovery. I'm so glad you got to go home. Me too. Because I can't imagine how it was leaving your kids for that long while going through all that. And then not having them be able to visit. Like leaving them anyways would be horrific, like not sleeping in the same house, but not having the option to even have them there.

I must be like, oh, my heart is so isolating. But that's not the end. Now, I've never been a person who believed in ghosts or spirits. I'm a very seeing as believing kind of person. And I've just never seen. But this true near death experience has changed that. Not only am I now able to notice poltergeist activity at one of my work sites,

super fun at night alone, but I know click catch glimpses of my curse. What do I mean by that? I don't know. Well, you know when you see a dark shadow or figure out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn it's gone. Yes.

Like that, only it lingers long enough that I can get a longer peak. It isn't really human form, more of how it would imagine an aura, but all black. You ever spray it with some sage? Yeah, then it is gone. I don't see it every day, but it's always there lurking like a vulture. What the fuck? It doesn't feel like something that can hurt me, not like a spirit or diamond, but just another reminder of what follows me.

I haven't figured out how to shake it, the curse or the visual of it, but for now it's just another thing I'm learning to adapt to. So that's the tale. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? I want this to be gone for you.

Yeah, I feel very strongly that I want this to be gone for you. I feel like if you're comfortable with it, you should go to a medium or something similar to that. I wish I could figure something for you. I want to fix this for you. I'm gonna read up on this shit. Well, now I did mention seeing Poltergeist activity

at one place I work, so I won't leave that hanging. Please don't. There's a quick bonus tale before I move on. I know you've mentioned how odd it is that ghosts are always old-timey and ever It's Brittany bitch. I need a Brittany bitch. However, I can tell that my little spooky friend is a tad more recent than that At this particular location where I work two nights a week. I clean alone locked in but totally alone It is a massive industrial building and as I mentioned since my experience I notice activity

building and as I mentioned since my experience I notice activity, doors opening and shutting alone, things moving, things just disappearing, noises, etc. Nothing dangerous, just obviously unsettling. But the most standout for me was a penny wise themed joke. It pulled on me. I cleaned every office on the main level and made my way upstairs. I did my thing, then came back down for more garbage bags to clean up. As I passed a hallway, I had already entirely cleaned. I saw, I shat you not, a single red balloon alone in a dimly lit hallway. She also sent us a photo. A floor of hands. And it's horrifying. And she is right what she says, not laying on the floor, but just floating just above my chest tight with its little string just grazing the floor.

Correct. Like the very white girl I am, I did not immediately run. I am obsessed with you. I slowly took out my phone and snapped a pick. Then decided garbage was just fine for today and promptly left. I have attached the pick for you. No idea where it came from, and it was not in the hallway before as I walked through

there, easily three to four times that night, and went in every office in that hallway. There was no balloon. That's so fucking terrifying. So my little poltergeist friend dated himself to be at least from the 80s. Stephen King would be thrilled, I'm sure. He would. I still clean there because money, but I make myself known when I arrive.

Tell him to chill out, turn my headphones up to drown out the noises, do my thing and go home. Things still happen, but maybe because my life is such a raging dumpster fire, a tricky ghost is just like, oh, okay, add it to the list, I guess. But I digress, this is turning out longer than I planned. And my crime tale is super short as it is still very new and ongoing. So my hometown of Sherbrook Quebec, first responders appear to be the Canadian version of the LAPD

Oh no, or maybe worse. I don't recall hearing the LAPD or any first responders doing such things as this. Oh god. Back in mid-summer of this year, they responded to a call of a burnt mannequin near the woods. Fire and police responded and decided collectively that the mannequin would be disposed of in the police station dumpster. No, no, no. But as all true crime enthusiasts know, it is never a mannequin.

But shouldn't the popo know that? A poor man later walked into the station to report his wife missing. After tracing herself on location, they found her car suspiciously close to where the mannequin was found earlier. Only then did they realize their horrific error. How do you make that error? I don't understand, and this is her writing this, but I agree. I don't understand how the smell of a burnt person wouldn't have been super apparent at the time they found her. I also don't understand. I was that was going

to be my next sentence. And she says, I've only ever smelled burnt hair, but that alone is very distinct. Yes. I haven't seen anything new on the story, but they are now investigating it as a suspicious death to which I say, you think? Yeah. I've linked an article below about it, but as I said, I haven't seen any new developments yet. Hopefully that poor woman can get some justice. She has been through enough, even in deaths. Seriously, what the f**k? So that was a journey.

Hopefully you could follow the winding road that is my train of thought. Keep up the awesome work and keep it weird, but not so weird you get cursed somehow, and it ends up almost killing you and then falls you around like a spooky little rain cloud and you meet a poltergeist who's apparently a Stephen King fan, and definitely not so weird you get cursed somehow and it ends up almost killing you and then falls you around like a spooky little rain cloud And you meet a poltergeist who's apparently a Stephen King fan and definitely not so where the completely abandoned all of your police fire training To such a degree that you put a body in a dumpster because it is never a mannequin

Bye I don't want to say bye yet. That was like a that was so like not fun, but you're wonderful I hate that you are dealing with a curse. I want to fix it for you and oh My god, yeah, we're definitely going to figure out how to figure this out for you because that's terrifying Let's figure out how to figure it out. We're gonna figure out how to figure it out man. Okay, let's do that Let's go. Thank you for sending that. That's amazing and I am trying to manifest some really good things coming your way I know and I hope you're feeling better after all that surgery. I know and from you know from a fellow person

who has gone through like losing a great amount of blood before, that shit sucks. Oh, yes. And I'm very sorry you went through. Hi, Sally, now after having two blood transfusions and I've never seen anything like it in my life, it was a rough time twice. So I feel for you and I hope you're feeling great.

Me too. Okay. My next listener, Tails, says the lady down the plug hole in the ghost snob with fancy AF taste and pillows. I'm here. Starts off with subcunts. But it's fine because they're from England. Yes. And it would be fine anyway. I love you so much. You keep me young subcunts. I want to preface this inevitably long-awar female by saying how much I love you both in your podcast. It has gotten me through the last 18 months

of working from home due to COVID. Even if I suddenly grew fearful of every single spupi-ass movement my cat makes, not entirely sure. She's not a Damon, so thanks for planting that seed, guys. Also, I'm from a small town in Northern England, so apologies in advance if I use any weird British-isms. Oh, please. We welcome them.

We welcome them. I do have to tell you that I actually picked this one. And I read that sentence four times because I was like, I'm from a small town in New England. So I'm sorry if I use any weird British-isms. I'm from a small town in New England. And I kept saying it. I was like, why would you be using Britishisms?

And then I realized on the fourth or fifth try that it said, Northern England, which is a very different place. I digress. Anyway, I'm a firm believer in anything remotely spupi and supernatural, and I love nothing more than watching scary movies. Not alone, obviously, because everyone knows that no bad guys can get to you

if you have a friend there. Da, avi. However, I never really had any supernatural experiences alone obviously because everyone knows that no bad guys can get to you if you have a friend there. Duh! Avie. However, I never really had any supernatural experiences growing up. Or so I thought. Hmm. I was talking to my mum about your podcast and to the end listener tales and asked if she'd ever had any supernatural experiences. She paused as if debating whether or not to tell me as she knows I tend to be slightly

over-dramatic and may think I'm cursed for eternity. Oh my God, that's really funny. That's just followed up this time. That last email, like cursed for eternity. It's a cursed thing. Wonder where I got that from, mom. Anyway, she said when I was about four years old, I was in the bath and she was in the kitchen

just off the bathroom. Real responsible, Julie. And like any child, I didn't say that she did. I feel like I didn't judge her mom. I did not do that. And like any child, I didn't say that she did it. I didn't judge her wrong. I did not do that. And like any child, I was just jabbering away to myself and playing. All of a sudden, I went quiet and then let out,

in my mom's words, quote, the creepiest fucking laugh I have ever heard in my life. Then apparently, I carried on talking but was pausing as if I were having a conversation. She came into the bathroom and I had pulled the plug out of the bath and had emptied the uh, sorry, and hold on. She came into the bathroom and I had pulled the plug out so the bath had emptied and was on all four staring into the plug hole carrying on my conversation.

She said, Lindsay, what are you doing? And I said, I was talking to the lady who lived on the drain. Fuck that. Just throw the whole kid away. This is the best fuck out the fuck. My mom was obviously freaked out, and although she'll never admit it, I'm almost certain she contemplated how attached to me she actually was. And if it was too late to put me up for adoption, she told me to get

out of the bath. And I said, no, I wanted to speak to the lady. She tried to pick me out of the bath and that's when she heard of that. What? No. We lived in a tiny two bedroom terrace house at the time with minimal storage space. So she stored the Hoover in the bathroom. I think that's the vacuum. Yeah. Again, great decision. I think that's the vacuum, right? Yeah. Again, great decision. So I think that's a bad, I was just asking Hoover it. I don't know. Again, great decision to leave your child

in the bathroom alone with electronic devices, Julie, again, not me judging. I also cannot stop thinking about what I would do if my child was doing this. He gets to the fucking drain. Because you have to act on face. That's the thing. That's the whole hard part about being a parent

when this kind of stuff happens is you have to, just be like, okay. Just be like, oh cool. Like, can we pause our conversation with the lady down the drain, like is she okay with that? Like you have to act like super chill about it. No, no, no.

My first question would be, what are you guys talking about? Yeah. What would I be like? What are the happenings down the drain? I'd be like, well, like, since you and I are friends, can I be friends with the lady? Like, who's this lady down the drain?

Can you tell me a little bit about? Should we have tea? Yeah, like, just let me know. I just want to know your friends. Right, that's all. I'm your mom. We can all be friends. Yeah.

So yeah, she tried to pick me up out of the bath and heard a bang. She turned around and the cord for the hoover started swinging rapidly. In her shock, she tried to pick me up out of the bath and heard a bang. She turned around and the cord for the Hoover started swinging rapidly. In her shock, she let go of me, so I was still in the bath and the cord stopped swinging. She tried to pick me up again and again, it started swinging. At this point, I got out of the bath myself and it stopped. And as soon as we got to the door, my mom grabbed my arm and we sat in the neighbor's house until my dad got a walk away. I don't know what she was expecting my dad to do to the Hoover wielding Plunk Demon, but it stopped after that. Just to be safe, I was only allowed to take

showers after that. It's so funny. The Hoover wielding Plunk Demon. Nothing else weird happened to me again until I was about 18. I was working in night shift at McDonald's. The store was closed and we had to stay until about 2 a.m. to clean. Me and my manager had taken a break to go outside for a cigarette. There was a small patio area which was closed off by glass panels. We were just talking and the my manager said to me, what's he looking at? I looked to where he was looking and about 10 feet away just on the other side of the glass panels, was a young guy dressed in jeans

and a football top just staring at us. We were out there for about five minutes, and he never looked away. My manager shouted over to him and told him we were closed, but he just kept staring. We went back inside, my manager went to the office, and I was on the main floor cleaning. Every once in a while, I looked up up and the weird guy was still there looking at the same spot.

After about 20 minutes of this I went to the office to tell my manager that I was getting creeped the fuck out and told him to haul ass to get out there. He looked at the security cameras and said that he'd left now so it should be fine. I said how long was he out there? It's freezing outside and he had no jacket. My manager looked back at the security cameras for the last few hours and uh yeah you guessed it, there was never anyone there. What the fuck? Out creep me the fuk out. Last story I promise. When I was 18 and I thought I was brave as fuck, me and a bunch of my friends thought it would be an amazing idea to get a Ouija board. Guess what it wasn't. I said that. I get it. And do it in the middle of an abandoned forest

at midnight. Where are your friends with Elena? Amazing. There were probably about 20 of us who went, but only five of us were stupid enough to actually do it while the rest watched. We lit candles and placed them behind each of us. Be careful for forest fires. Yeah. We started asking basic questions as if nothing was happening. The plan chat didn't move at all. But we kept going because we'd invited 20 people out here and needed to make it worthwhile. After a few minutes, the plan chat did start moving and one of my dickhead friends asked if we were going to die in the forest and it said yes. But I'm not convinced it wasn't my arse-hell friend Lee moving in.

But anyways, all at once, the 16 pussy bystanders all took off running towards the cars. They obviously scared the bejesus out of us, so we said a quick goodbye to the board, just in case Lee wasn't actually a total... wait, yeah. Just in case Lee wasn't actually a total kind. And then we hauled ass back to the cars. Once we got there, we were like, what the fuck, why did you all just run off? And they said that when we asked the question,

are we going to die tonight? One by one, the candles behind us went out in a clockwise position. What? No, thank you. We all know to the fuck out of there. Left the Ouija board in the forest because we did have some sense and went home.

I got home at about 2 a.m. and got into bed and decided to watch some TV for an hour to wind down. I got that. I started to feel sleepy, so I turned towards the lamp to turn it off. I wouldn't have even done that. Which was on the other side of my bed. Side note, I had duck feather pillows, comfortable as fuck, but make sounds when you put pressure on them.

So anyway, as I turned to face the lamp, ever so friggin' slowly, an imprint was made in my pillow. It was the shape of a head. I literally ship my pants, but also had some respect for my sleeping family members at 3am. So I yeeted the fuck out of my room and sat downstairs with all the lights on until my parents got up for work at 7am. I would've done the same exact thing.

The next morning I asked one of my brothers if we could switch rooms. Dick moved, but we weren't really that close. This is my favorite. This is my favorite. We weren't really that close, and I had another brother, so I did what I had to do. She's like, I got one on backup. Iconic.

We weren't that close, and I have another one. That was the best part of this entire thing. She's like, fuck that brother. I have a spare brother, so it doesn't matter. Like, guys, don't worry. We'll sacrifice this one if we have to. Oh my god, I love you. Luckily, he agreed and nothing happened to either of us since. I made sure I prayed to all the gods that just in case and swiftly moved out of that house a few months later. So yeah, there's my spupi-ass tales and sorry for for it being so long, literally, don't be. Feel free to cut out whatever you need to.

No. Love you both and keep it weird. Lindsay, yes, you can use my name. Lindsay, that was fucking hilarious. You also love how you spell your name. That's really pretty. That was amazing. That was so fucking funny. I love that. Oh my gosh.

Oh, man. I love the shoes that, yeah, I have a backup brother. What about it? Hell, I don't care. It's fine. Fuck it. It's fine. Everything's fine. It's fine. All right, so the next one we have is called listener tale,

Stembridge case. Marion? Marion! Marion! Hello, at the risk of sounding like a crazy internet stalker, I sent you all an email last month about a distant family member named John Elbert Starling of Johnston County, North Carolina, who was lynched for the murder of his mother-in-law

and nephew, and nephew. Welp, imagine my surprise when my cellular device dinged, and I saw y'all updated a new episode, yay! And it was a name I recognize, Stembridge. Stembridge is not the most common name. One of my paternal, great-great-grandmothers made a name was Stembridge. As it turns out, Marion Wesley Stembridge

and I share a common ancestor from Virginia. Holy shit! He is my third cousin. That's not even that far. No! God-a-love these colonial ancestors and all their cousin, Marion. Ha-ha-ha! God-a-love all these colonial ancestors and all their cousin marrying. Gotta love all these colonial ancestors and all their cousin marrying.

So now I have another murder in my family tree. Speaking of two murder stories in a family tree sounds like a lot. Actually, I have six. Oh, what? Okay. My paternal grandfather was murdered in 2005. That's sad. And the case is still unsolved.

Oh, sorry'm sorry. He lived in a pretty decrepit old building in downtown Richmond, Virginia. That local's nicknamed the Not House. He was found by the pest control guy when the superintendent used a spare key to open his apartment and let the service man in. According to the officer I spoke to,

I spoke with when I looked into it. They couldn't determine how long he had sat there for certain. His tombstone has the day he was found on it. Oh, that's really sad. That's really sad. Anyways, my grandfather was found sitting at his computer desk with his back to the chair, to the door. There was no signs of a struggle.

His throat was cut so deeply that it almost severed his head from his body. Holy shit. The police never found any credible evidence or leads. That's fucking terrifying. Add to that, my great-great-uncle, also on my dad's side of the family, was nicknamed the Halifax Slayer. By the Danville B-paper in Danville, Virginia, he shot a man through the heart from behind with his shotgun.

I'll attach the articles I have about it. He later died at the Eastern State Hospital. Shod up! According to a family history book, one of my seventh great grandfather's was murdered on his newly built plantation in Athens, Georgia, and 1797. However, I haven't seen the original documents to verify it for certain. And finally, one of my fourth great grand-uncles and my fifth great-grandfather died in October of 1859 after being stabbed to death. My grand-uncle died immediately, however my great-grandfather lived 11 days before he died.

Wow. Anyway, that's all y'all. I hope you enjoy the twisted and fucked-up story that is my family tree. I sure do. I feel like I become like a TikTok human and I just need to say, holy spirit, activate. To activate what is going on.

And he'd help. And they thank you for attaching all the articles. For this. We're gonna have to post some of these. Hell yeah. Because they are fascinating. Wow, what a family tree you have. I would just be like really safe.

I'd be like safe. Really I would just be like really safe. I'd be like safe. Really about my safety. Just be safe. That's so scary. Just please be safe. Wow. Wow.

Okay, my next one is called Listener Tales. How the fuck is my mom still alive? How? This one is really funny. Hi, Ash and Alina, you girls are the tits. I recently found your podcast and I look forward to listening every day. I'm currently doing a challenge

in which I have to do 45 minute workout outside every day. And I swear the only reason I haven't given up in this Wisconsin coldest fuck weather is because I have you guys to keep me busy. I love the listener tails and I never thought I had a story to share with you until I heard Elena say that her worst fear is a home invasion. And I said to myself, oh shit Elena

I got one for you. Oh, no It isn't what you think which is almost more uncomfortable in some situations. Oh, man So about my mom. I don't know the words. I would use to describe her in these situations But it's important to understand how she is. She doesn't give a fuck not in the she's a bad-ass way But more like she's just going about her life and doesn't really worry or consider consequences. I wouldn't even consider her didsy, but some of the things I'm like, mom, what the fuck is actually happening in your head right now? She's a runner and one time she had to write a letter to the editor for our local

newspaper because while she was out running, she ran into a moving car. No, that wasn't a typo. You read that right. She, while running, ran into the side of a moving car. That's so fucking funny. What? She was fine. She was fine. She was fine. She ran.. She was fine. She read everybody of the Kill Work Girls episodes.

When she's like a deer at my car, you had a deer with your car? No, a deer ran into the side of my car. Luckily, she rolled out of the way of the car and she wasn't hurt, but she had to apologize to the driver because she scared them shit. Look, can you imagine? No. Somebody just runs, just like yeets them so that they were car. They got it ended well. Wow.

Another time, while we were roller skating down the street, I play roller derby and my mom got into it as well. Hell yeah. That's really fucking cool. We came to a busy four-way stop. Now my mom is still learning how to stop. She basically can't. Oh well. But instead

of slowing down way before we get to the intersection or even attempting to stop, she just keeps on going. And hoping everyone will wait for her. I just see this bomb in full roller derby entire. Just like what? Just flies. And she's just like, I know it's just a beer. Just like, what? This is me. I follow behind with my head down like an embarrassed middle schooler waving to all the cars, hoping they understood my apology while I'm sure they're saying to themselves, oh my god. What is this old broad doing on eight wheels?

She's going to die. Your mom's a little baby. Sounds iconic. I hope she's not mad at you for expressing this to our listener. This is amazing. Oh, man, hold on. I'm gonna get it together. There are more instances like this, but here's the one where you are going to be yelling

at her through your microphone. Oh, no. I was probably around 12 years old. It was summer in Wisconsin, and these assholes, my parents, don't believe an air conditioning. We've always kept the doors and windows open in the summer to hopefully get some fresh air. Yeah, I know it's for dead people. I was out this day running around with my neighborhood friends. When I got home around dinner time, my mom said to me, guess what happened to me today? And she tells me, my mom was

working in the basement. My dad was out that day running errands or whatever. Neither of my parents had conventional jobs when I was growing out, so they were always home or in and out. Where my mom was in the basement is, where my mom was in the basement is directly under the front door, so you can easily hear someone come in or out. She said she heard my dad come into the house and walk around, but he never came downstairs to talk to her. After a while, she said it sounded like he was moving furniture around, and it was loud. So finally, she went upstairs to see what was going on. When she got upstairs, she saw a man standing in our living room that she didn't recognize. No.

We have half a wall that separates the rims, and the couch was in front of the wall, so she said she assumed he was with my dad, and my dad was just sitting on the couch that she couldn't see. Why would you assume that? I don't know. She said, hello. I peeked into the room. Hello.

I peeked into the living room on the couch, expecting me to see my dad, but he wasn't there. What? The man just kept looking at her. So she said, can I help you? What else do you think? I think it goes seriously, Mom. No alarm bells.

He replied with, this is my house to which she replied no this is my house Call me the mother fucking cucumber apparently at this point the man started looking around the house Kind of dazed and confused like he wasn't recognizing his surroundings my mom said he walked out the front door And she watched him walk down the block a bit before finally calling the cops. But still, when she called the cops, she said it's not an emergency, but this man was in my house. I wonder if he was like older or was something.

Well, you know, the cops came and eventually found the guy. He lived a few miles away and apparently had an epileptic seizure when he was very confused. They got him home safe with his family, so that's good. That's good. It was definitely innocent, and we felt bad for this guy. But the fact that my mom's first reaction wasn't one

of the panic or alarm is a real issue for me. There's one more part of that that made me quite uncomfortable, though. The next morning, after all this happened, as I was leaving my bedroom, I noticed a pair of glasses sitting on my dresser. They weren't any of ours. They had to be the man's glasses. I felt instantly gross, glasses sitting on my dresser. They weren't any of ours. They had to be

the man's glasses. I felt instantly gross like my space was unbated. Yeah. He was in my room, not cool. My mom called the cops again to let them know. And those mother fuckers just gave her the guy's address. So she had to drop them off. What the fuck? Real nice police work guys. Are you kidding me? I'd be like, uh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, kidding me? I'd be like, no, I'm coming. I'd be like, no, come, come, come, get them and bring them to me. Or I'd be like, I'll bring them to the station for you. Yeah. Like, no. So my mom does lock the door now.

If she is in the basement, sorry, I fucked that up. My mom does lock the door now. If she is in the basement at all. But that could have been so much worse. Yeah. I've always been more cautious than her. But since I've started listening to your podcast, I have to admit, I'm more paranoid.

To the point that my husband has told me, he might have to cut me off from all my true, I've done true taming. We've all been there. Yeah, we have. But Damit, I refuse to be one of your stories from someone being kidnapped, especially since I would probably be listening

to your podcast while it happens. LOL, that's fucked. It is. I'm always super aware of my surroundings, and I feel pretty confident that I could fuck someone up if they try me. Good for you, man. Yeah, right? Last thing. I worked as a phlebotomist for seven years in a hospital in Milwaukee. I worked the midnight shift for a few years

and the lab was right next to the morgue. Thank God I never had any weird experiences. But I did work with someone who worked with someone who worked with Jeffrey Dahmer at the chocolate factory. Yeah, you did, because I feel like everyone in Milwaukee has some kind of connection back there. 100%.

And I said, Thank you for giving me yours. And she goes, that's as close as I needed to get. Sure is. Thanks for being awesome ladies. I know I probably look crazy walking down the street laughing to myself while listening to you,

but it's my favorite part of the day. Keep it weird. Liesel. Or Liesel. Rhymes with diesel. You can use my name. Liesel. Liesel.

Yeah. Liesel. Liesel. Liesel. Hell yeah. It's so fucking hell yeah. I love that your mom was like, no. This is my house.

This is my house. This is my house. This is my house. This is my house. She was like, I will fight you for this. This is my house. Let's have a war about this. She was like, I will fight you for this. This is my house. Let's thank you. I love your mom. She sounds wild.

I think you are the funniest human. Roller skates through a four-way. I love all of this. You guys are killing it. All right, we have one last one. It's super short, but I thought it was funny because I love a petty moment. B2.

So this one's called Listener Tales, the Pettyest Man of Springfield Illinois. Let's go. Hey, Weirdo's first off. I wanna express my gratitude for your podcast and banter. I started listening during the first months of the pandemic and I've recommended you to six other people I talk to because I love it so much.

You all rock. Thank you. Anyhow, I wasn't really sure where this story fits, but I thought you would get a giggle out of it. The story is about Roy Bertelli, aka Mr. Accordian, aka the pettiest man of Springfield. I love this already. Roy was a World War II veteran

and apparently quite the lover of the Accordian. One of his life goals was to be buried in Oak Ridge Cemetery, the same burial ground of one Abraham Lincoln, and other famous Illinois scents. If you get, I think that's how you say it. If you get a chance, I recommend spending a day wandering the cemetery because it really is a cool historic place with a ton of old cemetery vibes. I wanna go there.

I do too. So our boy Roy went to the cemetery office with no expectation of getting a plot because it is a very hot real estate market. He was shocked when they not only sold him a plot, but when it the very entrance to the cemetery with a clear shot of Lincoln's tomb. Holy shit. However, a few weeks later, he received a letter from the cemetery office, along with a letter from a lawyer

stating that he was sold the plot by mistake, and the cemetery would seize ownership from him. That's not fair. That's your fault. That's your mistake, not mine. A friend of Roy suggests that he would have given back the plot if they had simply asked. Oh, yeah. Like, he's just a nice guy. The involvement of lawyers with threats

did not sit well with this veteran. He decided to fight them in court and won the right to his burial ground. Oh, yeah. The story doesn't end there. He decided that the best way to say, fuck you to the cemetery managers was to erect a large monument of his own

with an engraving of his name and accordion and his self-proclaimed title of Mr. accordion. Not us. They attached pictures in the email and it's amazing. The large concrete crypt in front of his monument became a stage for him to play his accordion to greet tourists into the gates of old Ridge, Oak Ridge Cemetery.

When he died, he made sure that his monument dedicated to his love of the accordion would be taken care of in perpetuity. And he decided to get buried in another cemetery across town. Oh my God, he literally was like, so I'm gonna put this shit here. Oh my God, he's gonna get married here. Um he used it as a stage to play his accordion and then when he died he was like no thanks. I am here for that. Needless to say Roy is amazing and full snaps to his level of

petty. One hundred percent. That your bottom dollar that I will be leaving flowers there in his honor. Take care and keep it weird, Caitlin. I love that. That was amazing. Oh my god. Oh my god. Wonderful. Roy Bertelli, Mr. Accordian, has got a giant accordion on it. That's just my favorite.

I love it. And it's like a flat tomb, like amazing. Yeah, it's like a stay- It's like a stay- And it says lifetime dedication to the accordion and World War II veterans. And this is Roy Bertotelli, Mr. accordion. I love it. It's so beautiful.

Guys, you really, you really kill it. You kill it every week with the listener tails. They get better and better. They do, I'm obsessed with them. Like it's so easy to find these now in our email where like, yep, but it's hard to narrow them down. I was literally like, just to say, I'm like, oh fuck, I want to read that one. And then you have to be like, which one is better and then neither is better. So then you're like, yep, but it's hard to narrow them down. I was literally weak just to say. I'm like, oh, fuck, I want to read that one.

And then you have to be like, which one is better? And then neither is better. So then you're like, all right, let's just work with the next time. So this one for next time. We'll just leave this one for next time. But thank you guys so much. Keep sending them in to morbidpodcast.gmail.com.

Make sure you put listener tails in the subject line because it helps us find it better. Otherwise, we might miss it. And keep doing it, you guys rock. Yeah, we hope you keep listening. And we hope you keep it weird. But that's a weird, the first one was so sad. Don't keep it that weird.

That's a weird money growing trees, and you take somebody into the fucking dentist and the woods, and it's just, don't do that. That's a weird that you got cursed for your whole life, and that you mistake a dead-ass body for a mannequin because you should question your entire career. And actually, now that I think of it, everybody on that police force

absolutely should have been fired for. Oh yeah. Definitely keep it so weird that you have a friend that lives in the plug hole because that's just amazing. Keep it so weird that, oh no, no, no, don't keep it so weird that literally everybody in your family has been murdered. Keep it so weird is that person's mom,

Lisa's mom, because I'm actually like dying at all of her entire life. I love her so much. I think she has great energy, and I think you should too indefinitely. Keep it so weird that you are peddious, fuck up until you're dying day, like the accordion man of Illinois.

Roy! accordion noise inserted here. Hey, Prime Members! You can listen to morbid, early, and ad-free on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today, or you can listen ad-free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey.