My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 387
Episode Date: June 10, 2024This week’s hometowns include being petty in high school and a traumatic day at the beach. Support this podcast by shopping our latest sponsor deals and promotions at this link: https://bit.ly/3UFCn...1g  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Hello.
And welcome to my favorite murder.
The mini-sode.
Yep, that's right.
You look contemplative, like, what is happening on a Sunday?
I don't know.
Yeah, it sounded wrong when I first started saying it,
because it's Sunday.
Yeah.
So it's all wrong.
We should be napping right now.
I mean, it's so sad.
Or whatever people do on a Sunday. Read emails. Yeah,
let's do that instead. Do you want to go first? Let's do it. The subject line of this email
is a good old murder. Hello. I've been binge listening to a bunch of the mini so it's recently
and have been missing the classic hometown murders. So I figured why not write in about
that time. My dad almost found a dead body. Since the suspense is probably
killing you, let's get right into it. When my dad was in high school, he regularly hung out with
his friend, Connor. And then it says different name for privacy reasons. And they say that about
all the names in this. So none of the names in the story are real. One day while hanging out with
Connor and his girlfriend, Kate, at Kate's house, my dad noticed the lawn was very overgrown.
We're talking just below knee length.
Hoping to make a quick buck, my dad and his friend offered to mow the lawn with the lawnmower
that was in the shed.
Kate's mom quickly dismissed them and told them not to worry about it, but my dad was
very young and very broke, so he persisted.
Kate's mom again shut him and Connor down, saying, the door to the shed is locked anyway
and we can't find the key, so you can't even get the lawnmower out. My dad, not thinking anything weird of how anxious this woman
was to keep a couple teens out of her shed, said, oh don't worry we'll just take the hinges off the
door and then put them back on when we're done. Kate's mom was very obviously irritated by this
and just gave them $20 and told them to go out for a nice dinner. My dad thought this was pretty
sketchy but let it go because he got 20 bucks
Anyway, I think it was about two or three days later when there was a story on the news about Kate's mom
Who was being arrested in her house after digging deeper?
My dad found out that Kate's mom had murdered her abusive husband hid his body in you guessed it the fucking shed
I won't get into the court details because it was pretty
personal stuff, but I do know she's in jail currently. I don't really know how to end this,
but I love you guys so much. And you have no idea how much of an inspiration you are to me
and so many other young women around the world. Oh, okay. I'm ending it here. Bye. Stay sexy and
leave the shed alone. Morgan, she, her. Oh my God, of all the like times in your life
when no one has ever mentioned the shed,
no one's ever mentioned it.
It's just out there, overgrown.
Whatever, and this fucking teenage boy comes around
and he's just like pestering you, why?
He's just like, I gotta get into that shed, ma'am.
Yeah, it's like you had a six cents.
And you have to pay me.
Right. Yes, yes, exactly.
Oh my God, that's wild, wow.
Okay, here's a dad one, another dad one. Hello all. I'm not going to read you the title. On Ministone 372,
you asked for family stories that no one will let you live down. I wanted to send this story
for a while and you finally asked for it. Don't wait for us to ask. Send whatever fucking
story you want at this point. There's no way that we can cover the best story topic when you have
it in your heart and in your soul. Just send it in. If it makes you feel better, say you guys asked
for what, you know, sharks in your pool of stories and we're like, yeah, we did. I guess so. Yeah,
we sure did. I remember that. Okay. When I was younger, we traveled a lot for my brother's
baseball games. Nights in these hotels often consisted of all of the boys hanging out in a
room, the girls in another, and the adults in the lobby playing cards. I'm
going to tell you this story the way the adults tell it because that's the version
of the story that gets told on holidays. One of these nights, me and two of my
friends were watching Brother Bear in our hotel room. The movie lulled the
three of us right to sleep. When the adults came to the room to go to bed,
they weren't able to get into our room
because one of my friends had locked
the security latch on the door.
Good.
Smart.
They claimed to have been screaming and pounding
on the door to try to wake us up so they could get inside.
But apparently the TV was too loud or we were too asleep.
After who knows how long, my dad decided that yelling
through the window of our room might be a better way
to wake us up.
Dad went outside and began climbing onto the dumpster of the hotel and then shimmied along the outside of the building before reaching our window. Okay, Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.
You know someone at the front desk knows how to open one of those latches for sure.
You had a second key. You're the dad. But it's the latch, the security latch.
Oh, yeah, but they must have a thing.
Watch TikTok.
They show you all the time how to break into those and how you can keep yourself safe,
right?
Got to be some sort of machine.
No, maybe this is the 80s.
How high off the ground this was depends entirely on who you ask.
But my dad claims we were on the third floor.
My guess, it was a high first floor at the most.
It was a 20 foot first floor.
Yeah, sure.
In the end, despite my dad's heroic attempt at banging on the window, the hotel had to
call the fire department to break the latch on the door so they could get inside.
That's a deep sleep.
Do you think they drugged the kids and they just never added that little part in there?
I mean, right?
They're like, melatonin for you, melatonin for you.
They're just letting it float as this hilarious family story. And they're not including the part
where it's like, yes, what child could sleep through all of that? Right. A drugged child.
Really quick though, how does a hotel not have an on-site? I'm picturing it as like a grabber,
like one of those grabbers that you get stuff off the
top shelf, but you're able to reach in and close that. Or I feel like a wire hanger. Like someone
knows how to open those with a wire hanger at the hotel because they've had to do it before. But
maybe they do now. I don't know. Yeah, I guess now. Probably. The three of us were peacefully
asleep and blissfully unaware of the chaos that had just ensued. Every time our childhood travels
come up or that city comes up, my parents like to remind me that we're blacklisted from this particular hotel.
I just like to say that as much as the story is a family joke now, I also take it as a
sweet testimony to me of the lengths to which my dad would go to make sure I'm safe. I'm
an adult now with a kid of my own, but that man would still drop everything he's doing
on a dime for me.
I'm so very grateful for him. Stay sexy and keep the volume on your hotel tv down question mark. Yeah, like what's the answer here?
Emily you're right. Not every dad would go up onto he claims a third floor
Terrace and shimmy over
To get his kids. It's like yeah, just wait till one of them wakes up.
Yeah. Go down to the hotel bar. Totally. That was from Emily. Good job, Emily. That was a good one.
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Goodbye.
The subject line of this email is I stopped talking to a friend because of McDonald's
Monopoly.
And it just gets right into it.
I was in high school during the height of the McDonald's Monopoly craze and it ruined
a friendship for about a month.
Like many high schoolers in the 90s, McDonald's was one of our regular places to hang out.
We would often see how long we could sit in the restaurant
before we get kicked out.
Yes.
We could usually last an hour
before the manager would either kick us out
or make us buy something else.
During one of the Monopoly games,
a friend was about 50 cents short of what his meal cost,
and being the amazing person I am,
I sacrificed my hard-earned
money so he could eat some nuggets.
We pulled the Monopoly tickets off our drinks and fries and wouldn't you know it, my friend
won $100.
Holy shit.
I not so jokingly said he should share some of that money with me because if it weren't
for my 50 cents, he wouldn't have won anything.
The rest of the group agreed with me, but this asshole quote unquote friend of mine
decided he should keep all the money.
It's not like I was asking for a 50-50 split,
but a little something would have been a nice gesture.
I agree completely.
I'm an unapologetically petty person,
so I gave my friend.
I love it.
So I gave my friend the cold shoulder for about a month
and wouldn't speak to him.
He didn't quite understand why I was mad at him.
He didn't understand the concept of sharing the wealth, the wealth that I helped him get.
But I eventually let it go.
Most likely my pettiness was focused on someone else by that time.
High school, am I right?
I missed the Monopoly game because like Georgia, I was sure I was going to become a millionaire
just for eating some fries.
Now I guess I will become rich by working hard."
And it just says from Shelly.
Great one, Shelly.
Love it.
Shelly, you sent us an email from 1984.
Your name.
Shelly.
The whole scenario.
Yeah.
Wow.
Shelly has got some frosted white pink lipstick on sending that email. Absolutely.
Okay. This one's called Trash Dog Squared.
Hiya ladies.
It literally, that's how it's written.
All the way across the top of the email.
Ladies. Yeah.
Okay. Trash dogs are now a thing.
Yes. I've got one for you.
Let's do this.
Alice was my beloved border collie mix
I found on a church street
corner when I was 15 and my sidekick till I was 30. Ethan was my not so nice long haired
chihuahua and eight years younger than Alice. So Alice is the older border collie, younger
chihuahua. Alice tolerated Ethan and Ethan harassed Alice every chance he got. So you
can imagine my surprise when they tag teamed up to get some serious needs
met. It's 2002.
I'm watching the season finale of American Idol. Will it be Justin?
Will it be Kelly? Kelly.
My dinner of choice this fateful evening?
Banquet fried chicken.
It says mmm right there.
Wait, I wonder if it's the one where it's just a box of fried chicken or if it's the chicken dinner.
Oh man, those TV dinners hit.
Vincent, I definitely did that during the pandemic
when we need like nostalgia, like comfort food.
Got some TV dinners.
That shit works.
It's exactly the same.
Those, like the brownie or the little apple pie square.
Yep, and there's like corn in it. You have to pick the corn out of the brownie, but it apple pie square. Yep. And there's like corn in it.
You have to pick the corn out of the brownie,
but it's, you eat it, man.
It's all the same stuff.
It's so good.
Okay, I'm hungry now.
Okay.
They are about to announce the winner
right after this commercial break.
Now it's 2002, guys.
No pausing, no fast forwarding through commercials.
Oh my God.
So I run to the bathroom to do my business
before it's back on.
Mission accomplished and run back to the table
to watch the results.
And what do I find?
Ethan has managed to climb up on the kitchen table.
Alice is below.
And somehow Alice has convinced Ethan
to fling the chicken pieces down to her on the floor.
She literally has a wing and a full breast in her mouth
as I start chasing her
around the house. Ethan sees the situation has escalated, grabs a leg the size of his
entire body and hops off the table to the chair and to the floor and books it behind
the refrigerator to savor his prize. Fucking chihuahuas.
Yes, no one can get him.
Alice managed to swallow the wing. I saved the breast. And Ethan emerged victorious from behind the fridge
with only the bone of the leg and toe.
So dangerous.
It was the only time those two collaborated willingly.
I missed Kelly's victory speech.
Thank you for everything you guys do.
Your genuine affection for all of us out here is palpable.
You make a lot of people feel safe and happy every week. I know. Stay sexy and take your chicken
with you to the potty, Katie.
Gross. Oh my God, the dogs were working like a practiced unit to get that chicken.
It's like I have two Mission Impossible stories in already.
Yeah, that's right.
From any, any, uh, I was going to say sect, but what I was trying to say was like
genus. It just makes me think that my favorite TikTok I've seen in a really long
time is it sounds like it's a girl's voice, but it's a closeup on her fork.
And she's going, trader Joe's makes this and the fork dips in
and it looks like, you know, mac and cheese or something.
She's like, Trader Joe's makes this amazing.
And she holds it there for a second.
And then this long dog nose just comes in and eats it.
And she's like, like clearly she had the whole thing set up
with how she was going to narrate her TikTok.
Oh my God, I love it.
The dog just ate it.
Hell yeah.
I think verbal TikToks is the future.
I think we should have a podcast
where I describe TikToks to you and then you just like, no, that wasn't very enjoyable or yes. Every
time I say, well, I'm not on it. I should get on it. I'll say that every fucking time. Every time.
It's that's the, it forces me to explain them to you. And it's like, do you think that went viral?
It did, even though it was boring. Georgia, you've probably heard the term
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Goodbye.
Here's my last one.
The subject line of this email is lying mom and the invention of hot dogs.
Hello all.
There's too much pressure to come up with a funny intro.
So let's just pretend I made you laugh.
I thought you'd appreciate this because it's a combination of mom lies and hot dogs. When I was a kid, my mom found it annoying when I would repeatedly ask, what
is that? Where did you get that about small things as all kids do? So she just started
telling me that she invented everything.
They love that.
I know it's so funny. I guess conversations were much more interesting when they went,
where did you get this car? I made it. What? How?
And then she told an elaborate story about how she made the car all on her own.
Oh, man.
Her favorite memory of this was when I asked where hot dogs came from and she said,
I invented them. And I believed her for way too long. Thanks, mom. SSDGM, Dana.
Oh my God. That's adorable.
She thought her mom made hot dogs.
Your mom's brilliant.
One time Vince, my nephew Joe,
was spending the night when he was like four
and Vince like brought him a bowl of ice cream.
And I said to Joe,
say thank you to Vince.
And Joe goes, you made this?
Like the thank you is for making me ice cream,
not for bringing it to me.
I'm like, no, he didn't make it, but he brought it to you. He's like, why would I thank someone
for bringing me something? Did you make it? No? Then fucking-
I'll thank Ben or Jerry, and that is all. Don't try to get their glory.
Exactly. Okay. It's called SS Shannon Reporting for Duty, estimated read time, three to five minutes.
And then it says, quote, send us your stories of when you shouldn't have been allowed in
the ocean.
Georgia MFM mini-sode 374.
Yeah.
And then it says, say less.
As a child of two working parents in the 90s, I can relate to all the latchkey kid content
you both provide.
Additionally, I am the dreaded middle child.
Oof.
I've been abandoned at a Denny's,
trapped in a deserted stairwell for two hours.
And the tale that brings us to this email today,
forgotten at the beach.
Trapped in a stairwell?
That's fucked up.
Yeah.
That's fucked up.
That's like feels like for life.
But I guess I'll hold off on how fucked up it is
until we hear this beach story.
You can't drown in a stairwell.
Yeah, that's true.
Okay. I was four and a half years old.
Even as I type this, I can't believe how young I was.
It was the summer of 91 in Outer Banks, North Carolina.
We were staying in a large beach house with my grandparents
and then it says Bernadette and Herbert,
A plus grandparent names.
Yes, Bernadette.
Multiple aunts, uncles, cousins, my parents,
and two siblings. In the group of kids, I wasts, uncles, cousins, my parents, and two siblings.
In the group of kids, I was the second oldest,
only behind my brother.
I won't lie, I did things for attention during the trip,
but this incident was not one of them.
Although we were technically oceanfront property,
we had to hike over two dunes to get to the beach.
Not a big deal, but as a kid,
it felt like we were hiking the Sahara.
After a few hours of building sandcastles and burying our feet where their waves meet
the sand, it was time to head back to the house.
I remember seeing my dad and aunt pack up our toys and towels and collect the other
kids and then I remember watching them walk away.
Why were they leaving me?
Could they not see me?
I go to follow them when I feel the undercurrent drag me down.
Oh shit. I shut my eyes and my mouth because I feel the undercurrent drag me down. Oh, shit.
I shut my eyes and my mouth because I hated the taste of saltwater.
When I washed up on shore, I took a deep breath,
not knowing how long I had before I would be dragged under again.
The saltwater stung as I opened my eyes, but needed to see how far my family was.
I could see them disappear over the first dune.
No, Jesus Christ. my family was. I could see them disappear over the first dune.
I was taken again. I held my breath, hoping I would get another opportunity to wash up
on shore and breathe, maybe even stand. But when the time came, I was too exhausted. My
arms and legs weren't strong enough. Back I went with the undertow.
The cycle of breathing when I washed up on shore to holding my breath when I sucked under continued.
I have no idea how my body knew exactly what to do. It was four and a half years old.
On an instance of being temporarily beached,
I looked off to the side and saw my uncle fishing jackpot.
Let's lock eyes so I can go home and take a fucking nap.
On the second drive, willing him to look over at me, it worked.
He urgently dropped his pole and ran over.
I relaxed my body knowing my work was done and this would be over in a moment.
As he pulls me out, I see my dad and aunt run back towards me, clearly seeing the error
of their ways when they realized they left their favorite grandchild at the beach.
Not just at the beach, in the ocean. Fucking getting eaten by the ocean.
Yeah, that's it. I have no recollection of what happened once I was wrapped in a towel,
the safety of my dad's arms, probably because the traumatic part was over. I also don't remember
this instance stopping me from going back into the ocean ever. It was honestly a long lost,
forgotten memory until I had a fortune teller talk to me about a near-death experience I had
when I was a kid. I had no
idea what she was talking about until something triggered this memory. When I asked my dad
about it, he said he, all caps, did not remember this, but also not to tell my mom. Stay sexy
and watch your kids around the tides, Shannon.
I mean, it could have been a psychically implanted memory, but that is such a classic.
Also, I think you would have to be that young
to stay that calm.
Because if you were a little older,
you would know how bad of a place you were in
and you'd panic, I think,
as opposed to just kind of like going with it.
Yeah, and then you'd be exhausted faster.
I mean, it's like, watch your kids around bodies of water.
Everyone fucking knows that.
Yeah.
So sick.
Also just like, they didn't even scream.
They were just like, oh no, no one's going to help me.
Here I am.
I guess I'm a fish now.
Oh, well.
Down to Davy Jones's locker with me.
Do you want to watch this on video?
We videoed it for the fan cult people.
Still haven't fixed the back of my hair.
Can't seem to get it ever to sit down. Thanks for listening. Write your story in. We appreciate you.
You're our best friend. Stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye.
Elvis, do you want a cookie?
Do you want a cookie? This has been an Exactly Right production.
Our senior producer is Alejandra Keck.
Our editor is Aristotle Acevedo.
This episode was mixed by Liana Squalace.
Email your hometowns to My Favorite Murder at gmail.com.
And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at My Favorite Murder and on Twitter at My
Fave Murder. Goodbye. at gmail.com and follow the show on instagram and facebook at my favorite murder and on twitter at my fave murder goodbye