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I have been listening to the Martha's Vineyard Beach and Book Club, which actually Elena recommended to me.
She did not listen to it, but she said, girl, this title sounds so you.
And let me tell you, it did. I've been listening to it while I walk, and I am absolutely loving it.
I love all the different narrators. I love Audible.
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Visit audible.com slash morbid. Think about the most disturbing government secrets you've learned from history.
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Listen to A Redacted Medical Mystery, a special episode from Redacted and Mr. Ballin's Medical Mysteries, available now wherever you get your podcasts.
Hey weirdos, I'm Ash. And I'm Elena. And this is Morbid.
And my microphone wasn't completely in front of me.
We had a little wonky start. The reason why I said, hey.
There's like this weird delay. Yeah, delay.
Thank you. A little lag. A little laggy poo.
A little lag on the WAV form in front of us.
Such a weird laugh. I just said, what's happening?
Wait, you didn't even laugh weird. It wasn't that intense at all.
You actually didn't do that at all. I was like, I don't think I remember that happening.
It felt that way. I wish you did that. Can you do that again?
If this was visual, your mouth. Yeah, you gotta go.
Oh, wow. I'll pull it back. She's turtling.
You know, it's after the holidays. It's the new year.
Happy New Year. Happy New Year. Oh, is this the first episode of the year?
No. I think we're into the new year. That we're?
Yeah. No. No? Wow. Hey, guys. New year, new us.
New year, same us. Yeah, nothing has changed.
New year, very same us. But you know what?
I hope everybody's New Year's was as happening as mine was.
I sat on the couch with John. Yeah. We had on the New York Housewives while we both looked at TikToks.
Oh, my God. Ate some Cheesecake Factory.
We had such a similar New Year's. I was also on my coach with Drew.
We had Sex and the City on, and I made us dinner.
Oh, my God. I would never. I would never.
I don't know if my eyes just were like. I would never.
I was like, new year, new you. My God. You're just.
Nobody. Sex in the city. Oh, my goodness.
Is this the way it was said? Never. Oh, that was funny.
Sorry. I was like, we watched Sex and the City.
Yeah. And I made us dinner. I love that.
I love that for you. No, girl. We were asleep before 10.
Before 10 p.m., I was snoring on the couch.
Happy New Year, everybody. Yeah, let's move on.
I'm screaming. So you know what? I don't have any New Year's resolutions because –
You know what? After 37 years of New Year's revolution.
See? New year, new me. So you don't have resolutions, you have revolutions.
I have revolutions. That actually is such a Capricorn thing for you to say.
I like that I have revolutions, okay? It's a revolution.
I love that. I don't do resolutions. I do revolutions.
But yeah, that's what I do. I'm not going to do one.
I'm just going to try my best to not be a shit stain and to work out a little more.
But I've been wanting to do that anyway.
So it's really not a resolution. It's just like, I hope I do that.
Yeah. Like, I'm not resolute in it. Yeah, I've never really been a big resolution girly.
I've always... I do like... I do like the notion of like the calendar turning over and it being like, all right, like wipe your hands clean or whatever happened.
Yeah, last year. Like that's nice. Like leave the shit in the past.
Totally. But I think when you like make yourself stick to like, all right, I'm going to do this this year.
Well, you're just not going to. And then it puts a lot of pressure on it and makes it not.
Yeah. Just be like, you know what? I hope I do stuff this year.
I'm just – I'm just out here living. Yeah, you know what?
Everybody should make one resolution, and it should be to not be a dick this year.
A lot of people couldn't use that resolution.
Because 2022 is like, whew. And I'm not even saying this personally.
People were dickish to me, like, don't be a dick to me.
I mean, like, don't. But I mean, just like in general, just like walking out.
We said it a lot last year. We were like, what is with everybody?
Drink every time we tell you to be kind.
Yeah, because it's just like every time you leave the house, you're just like, is everyone all right?
Yeah. You go on any social media and you're like, are you all right, everybody?
This past year, I think I kept to myself the most I ever have.
And it was wonderful. Yeah. I tell you, a social media... pullback and even just like a life pullback like yeah i am only giving my time to the people i want to give my time to elena keeps telling me i think i said this that like 30 is going to be great i'm there i'm 26 currently but 30 good for you man i'm just like you i don't get yeah yeah honestly like if you're don't don't let shit people dictate how you feel about yourself first of all no never don't let people on the internet dictate how you feel about yourself because i'm seeing a lot of like and because like tiktok is like my little like happy place where i just like scroll through how my favorite my favorite creators you know my favorites like kevin And a lot of them have been going through it.
Yeah. Like, even Mama Tot is still going through it.
If Mama Tot is going through it, I think we said this last time, it's like, come on.
But I'm like, you know what? What the fuck is wrong with people?
None of you let these dickwads on the internet dictate how you feel about yourself.
The real ones are the real ones. The real ones are going to be there.
The real ones are sitting there enjoying you for who you are.
Exactly. So like just if people are being dicks, don't listen to them.
And if your family's being dicks, don't listen to them.
Yeah. Fuck that. Don't let anyone dictate how you feel about yourself.
Just do what you want to do. And as long as you're not hurting anybody or hurting yourself, then fucking go off.
Yeah. Queens and kings and everything in between.
Exactly. I hope you're all feeling great.
If you're not, I hope you feel great. High five.
Yeah. I love you. I think you're great. You are great.
We're all doing our best here. And we'll all continue to do our best.
Let's go. And you guys are awesome. You guys rock.
And you've made us very happy. And you're just really kind.
And I like you. And I was looking through the email for Listener Tales and I was like, wow, you guys are really nice.
You are really nice. You're just like really great people.
I love you. So thanks for that. Thank you.
And also, I'm writing the second book right now.
So. Well, yay. Yay. I was like, wait, what?
And then I was like, oh, the email. Oh, the email.
The email. The email. She's writing the second book.
She's working on the TV show. Yeah, there's all kinds of great things happening.
So stay tuned and stay awesome. And keep it real, brother.
And kick assholes in the face. Totally. And tell trolls to get fucked.
Don't even. Yeah. Just in your head. Yeah.
Tell them in your head, like, get fucked.
Yeah, get fucked, guy. And just leave. But like, yeah.
Yeah. So yeah, that's where we are. That's my advice.
Everything you said, I'm like, yeah. But like, yeah.
Yeah, exactly. Yeah. So here we are. It's the new year.
I hope everyone's doing great. And we're going to kick this off, but we're really probably not kicking it off because this is probably like weeks into the new year that you're hearing this.
Someday we're going to understand how this all works and we'll be like able to tell you what time frame we're in.
I honestly think this comes out in like the third week of January.
So I hope it's been a good new year for you.
I hope so. The three weeks in has been great for you.
We've been working. We've been working. But you know what?
We'll figure it out. That's my resolution.
We'll figure out the schedule. Oh, I don't even know if I did that for myself.
By the end of the year, we'll figure it out.
Maybe. So the first listener tale. First of all, Ash needs to tell you what listener tale is.
Oh, brought to you by you, for you, from you, and all about you, baby.
There it is. I never feel right starting without that.
I love that. We are going to start with one that is entitled...
Listener tale. Listener tale. And this person wants to remain anonymous.
Anonymous. Anonymity. Granted. This is entirely granted.
Granted. Imagine if I was like, nah. Denied.
Just kidding. Sorry. She just like tilted her head and whined.
She's like, denied. Just a big old stamp.
Sorry, I constantly bring up that this should be visual, but that's never happened.
I know. Sorry. But the title of this is, did my lemonade make my friend's neighbor a killer?
No. I hope not. Oh, and it's raining. You might get a little like pitter patter.
Oh. Hi, weirdos. I've been considering writing this since the day I started listening to the podcast, which was a little over a year ago.
I've stopped myself from writing because I am not a great writer.
I'm sure you are. That's what you need to do this year.
You need to tell yourself you're fucking great.
Yeah. You're awesome. If you just tell yourself you're good at the stuff that you're bad at, you'll start to believe it and then your body will be like, well, we're good at this.
I guess we're good at this. That's my advice.
There you go. But then I thought about it and you guys don't care about bad grammar and terrible punctuation.
Hell no. Not at all. So here I go. Goo. Let's get the ooey gooey stuff out of the way first.
First, you guys have become such a huge part of my life.
I'm so thankful that we get shows three times a week now because before I would honestly go crazy.
Say it louder for the people in the back, Anonymous.
It wasn't even because I wanted new cases.
I just missed you guys. Oh, I love you. And hearing about all the amazing things that were going on in your life.
You guys are like my family. Oh, my God.
Elena, I just picked up your book and I'm so excited to read it.
Oh, thank you. I'm so proud. Ash, I'm so excited for you to marry Drew.
You deserve all the happiness in the world.
Oh, my God. Thank you. Oh, my goodness. Thanks so much.
All right. Time to tell my story of a lemonade and a murderer.
I've changed. I've changed all the names in this story, including mine, just for good old privacy concerns or reasons.
Yeah, let's be private. Excuse me, there's no concerns.
When I was about 10 years old, I was over at my friend Abby's house.
Abby and I were trying to come up with a plan to try to raise money to get Abby a dog.
Oh, man, that's going to take a while. That's adorable.
Obviously, our sweet angel minds came up with having a lemonade stand.
Yeah. We did not consider how much 50-cent lemonade we were going to have to sell to be able to afford Doug, but we were determined.
You have a down payment. You got it. Abby lived in a neighborhood that was close to a gas station.
So, of course, we colored some beautiful posters, rode our bikes to the gas station, and hung them up.
Oh, my God, I love it. We raced back to her house, prepared for the swarm of people to come to our lemonade stand.
We stood there for a couple of hours, looking extra cute in our Bermuda shorts and bright-colored Aeropostale shirts to raise money for that puppy.
Take me back. Do you want to know how many people came?
Zero. Well, maybe one, but that was Abby's mom feeling bad for us, but I can't even be sure she bought some.
She just took it. She's like, I bought this lemonade.
She's like, this is mine. This is mine. Taking it back.
Hope's dwindling. We were about to close our small business for good.
All of a sudden, we see three teenagers on skateboards.
Abby recognized one as her neighbor. That was bad news.
But they came over and we were excited to have potential customers.
The neighbor, let's call him Chris, and his friends started doing tricks right in front of us.
We asked if they wanted any lemonade and told them it would only cost 50 cents.
Well, Chris came right up to our lemonade stand and took two cups, drank them, laughed, and walked away without paying.
Punch him. Can you imagine being a teenager and doing that to 10-year-olds?
No. Like, what a piece of shit you have to be already.
Abby and I were mortified. That was the end of our lemonade stand forever.
Oh. Fast forward two years later, my friend Abby comes to school saying something happened in her neighborhood, and as soon as class started, the school goes on lockdown.
Oh, shit. We find out that 17-year-old Chris, Abby's neighbor, shot both of his grandparents that he lived with in the head, then went to a nearby city to party.
Once he was caught, we learned that when it happened, he was extremely high and he even kissed his grandparents' corpses before he took off.
What the fuck? It came to light that he was abused for many years by his grandfather and that the cops were called to the house many times before.
That's just a really sad situation. Now that's not possible.
Twelve years later, this story still gets talked about amongst my friends and me.
We all can't believe that Abby and I had a run-in with a future murderer.
We always make a joke that what if it was our lemonade that made him who he is?
If we would have known what he was capable of, Abby and I would have spit in the lemonade he stole from us.
That would have really showed him who's boss.
But obviously, there was a lot more going on in his life, and I doubt our lemonade had anything to do with it.
Or did it? Insert Law & Order dun-dun sound.
I did. Dun-dun-dun. Well, that's my story of how a teenage kid stole my lemonade and later murdered two people.
Hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you keep it weird.
But not so weird that you steal lemonade from a 10-year-old and then murder your grandparents and go partying after.
Yeah. Thank you for telling me your real name.
I won't say it. We know their real name and you don't.
But I also agree that sisters should know their real names.
That's what you wrote. I love that. We are sisters.
Sisters. That was a wild tale. That was cray cray.
I mean, murder. The most wild. Always. But also really shitty that he stole your lemonade in front of you.
Like, I can't imagine doing that to a 10-year-old.
No. Like, no matter what you're going through, don't put it on other people.
No, and I can understand why you feel conflicted because that's such a sticky situation, you know?
Yeah, and especially when it's a kid, like, technically.
Yeah, it's... Like, you know, you always go back.
We always say, like, feel bad for the kid.
Don't feel bad for the thing. This is one of those situations where it's like he was 17.
Like, technically, that's a kid. And potentially abused.
But at the same time, 17-year-old murdering somebody is a 17-year-old murdering somebody.
Yeah. I like how she put it, our sister there.
I like how she put it that his grandparents should have been able to have a chance to make better choices.
And now, who knows if they would have or wouldn't have, but they don't have a chance now.
Exactly. And the chance was taken away. And that chance should never be taken away.
No. So these are always very like situations.
So tricky. Murder is always bad, but it's like the emotions are always conflicted about it.
Yeah, exactly. Sorry for my throat clearing.
In the beginning, we were laughing so hard and then I got gunk.
And then I got gunk. And then I got gunk.
The town of Agde in France is famous for sun, sand, sea and sex.
But lately, life on the coast has taken a strange turn.
The town's mayor, a respected pillar of the community, has been arrested for corruption.
His wife claims he's been bewitched by a beautiful clairvoyant.
Then there's the mysterious phone calls that local people have been getting.
I am the Archangel Michael. The whole town has been thrown into chaos.
As the mayor is unable to carry out his duties, I would like to address you all.
Legal proceedings have been initiated. Join me, Anna Richardson, and journalist Leo Schick for The Mystic and the Mayor as we investigate a story of power, corruption and magic.
Binge all episodes of The Mystic and the Mayor exclusively and ad-free right now on Wondery Plus.
Start your free trial in Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or the Wondery app.
Hey, weirdos, we need to tell you about something that has completely blown our minds, collectively.
There's a new show called Lawless Planet that's uncovering true crime stories so massive, they're affecting the entire planet.
Post-Zach Goldbaum is investigating real cases where environmental destruction meets murder, conspiracy, and cover-ups.
We're talking about activists who disappear in the Amazon rainforest, whistleblowers who risk everything to expose deadly corporate secrets, and communities being silently poisoned while powerful people profit.
What makes these stories truly terrifying?
They're happening right now. This isn't history.
It's a massive criminal conspiracy unfolding in real time with consequences that affect us all.
Each episode feels like opening a case file into the darkest corners of corporate and government power.
Trust us. Once you start listening, you will not be able to stop thinking about these stories.
Follow Lawless Planet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.
You can listen to new episodes of Lawless Planet early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus.
All right. Well, my next tale is called Listen to Tales, Stalking, Break-ins, and Murder.
Oh, my. Oh, boy. And I have to clear my throat again.
Sorry. All right. I love you so much. So this starts off and it says, Hi, lovely ladies.
I would appreciate if you don't use my name.
Granted. Denied. So you can call me Lucy.
And I will never stop smiling if you actually read this sick and twisted tale.
Well, plaster a permanent smile on your face.
But before I tell you about the beautiful, grammatically incorrect, but double-spaced 14-font puttafa that is attached, I have to get mushy-gushy.
I recently started a new adventure very far away from my family, which you'll see is incredibly important to me.
It's been very difficult being far away from them, even though I'm chasing my dream of becoming a doctor.
Oh, okay. Brr-brr-brr. Okay. Wasn't that cute?
Rock star. Woohoo medical school. Also, you're just fucking great already.
Yeah. I actually just finished my midterm and what better way to decompress than spilling the beans about creepy ass neighbors, mutilated bunnies, and a stabbing mattress.
Yeah, you read that right. Damn. All wrapped in one not so pretty package.
Feel free to edit and trim it as you wish.
No. Never. It says, anywho, you guys, even though you don't know it, have become my family here.
I look forward to every episode and it's such a comfort to hear your voices and banter.
I love how you advocate for victims and survivors and have absolutely no chill for the sick demon ghost farts.
Thanks, Elena, for that one. That ruined people's lives.
I love it. Thank you for gracing my ears and being the beautiful, strong, and perfectly hilarious beings that you are.
Now for the dark stuff. Okay. I feel like I should give like an animal abuse trigger warning just in case.
Yeah, because you don't eat bunnies? Yeah.
That sucks because I'm also, I'm like about to get a tattoo of a rabbit.
Yeah. Terrible. But then like a whole one.
Yes. Yeah. All right. So it says, I grew up in a small town in South Texas.
Though the small town gossip gets old real fucking fast, I loved the sunsets, my good friends, and being close to all of my grandparents.
See? Yeah. I'm a huge family person, which will play a role in this story.
I'm fiercely loyal to the ones I love, and I can never get enough of mom and daughter days, day dates with my brothers, or stopping in for a coffee and breakfast at my grandparents' place.
That's so wholesome. I am obsessed. There's nothing more beautiful in this world than the love of family.
Side note, I actually chose to go into medicine because one, other people's families need to be cared for.
And two, some people don't get insanely lucky like I did with a supportive, loving family.
And I hope to fill in those gaps someday.
You're an angel. I was – I – Wow. I'm really glad you exist.
I am too. And I'm really glad you're going into medicine.
I was going to say, we've been having a lot of conversations lately.
We've been having some family members with stuff going on medically.
Sometimes people aren't always the most caring and stop and take a second to be with their patients.
Of course. So it's nice to know that you are somebody that's going to be.
Yeah, that you're going into it with that mindset.
You've restored my faith in humanity. Truly.
To set the scene here, my mom at the time was working in the city, LOL if you can even call it that, and my dad traveled around the area installing security systems.
So I'm 18 at the start of this story. Not that it really matters, but it may help form the story in your mind.
One day, baby brother, 10, comes home with a new friend that he met on the bus, Noah.
We'd never met Noah before. But he was accompanying baby bro off the bus, which means mom had no choice but to say, yeah, come on in.
Oof. I know. That's not cool. Not cool, baby bro.
Not cool. A normal play date ensued, and when Noah left, we all agreed that he was a bit wild.
But hey, who are we to judge? A few weeks later, my mom gets a knock at the door from Noah and his mother, Shelly.
She opens the door, and Shelly immediately pushes her way into our house.
Oh, that's a no for me. I'd be like, you need to get the fuck out of here.
You guys are really good people. I also feel like I know where this is going.
During this little playdate visit, Noah told baby bro that his mom's dying.
We were like, wow, that's really tough and this is a safe space so you can come here whenever you need.
Wow. You guys are amazing. Flash forward a week later, same thing happens.
Kids dropped off at our house. Shelly tells us that she appreciates us and she appreciates the break we give her by watching Noah.
And then says to my mom... Hey, by the way, I saw your husband works for the same company I just got a job at.
Okay, a little sus, but that may just be the paranoia in me.
I don't think it is. No, that's immediately I was like, what?
Why do you know where my husband works? I don't know how this ends, but I don't like it.
Sometime in the later weeks or months, Noah tells baby bro that, no, my mom doesn't have cancer.
What are you talking about? I saw that coming.
I had a feeling. Anyone who can lie about having cancer is a piece of absolute dog shit.
Yeah. Okay, that's definitely sus. She really didn't have cancer.
It was all a lie, which is absolutely fucked.
That's not something to joke about. Exactly.
I'm saying. Then my mom starts getting Facebook requests from a certain Miss Shelley from down the road.
My mom had some kind of tingly gut intuition that all moms have and was like, nah, we cannot be Facebook friends.
No. Shelly didn't like that and proceeded to request mom literally every day for months.
Get off Facebook, everybody. Everybody. She finally slowed her pace to like a few times a month.
LOL, people, man. Yeah. So if shit wasn't already a little weird, this is where it definitely gets weirder.
Short tangent on the layout of this road so it makes sense.
We lived on a corner lot that was kind of inset, so the driveway was pretty long.
The garage door was on the side of our house facing the main road, and our front door was on an adjacent side of our house facing our smaller street road.
That makes sense. So when you're pulling up to our place, you turn left and then immediately turn left again, and boom, house.
To get to Shelly's place, you turn left and then drive down for a ways, then eventually turn left into her driveway.
Okay. So when we would leave to go to school or mom would leave for work, Shelly would be driving opposite of us so our cars would pass each other.
I shit you not, every single time without fail, she would be looking straight ahead until she got even with our car and then turn and give the creepiest Joker purge smile that I have ever seen.
My skin crawls now just thinking about it.
We got to get away from Shelly, everybody.
Shelly. I feel like she shouldn't have a name like Shelly.
Shelly's, like, such a fun, carefree name.
It's like, hey, Shelly. Hey, it's me, Shelly.
Like, I'm off to aerobics. I don't know.
Doesn't it sound like a girl, like... It does, but now this story is making me be like, ooh, Shelly.
Shelly. You're like, I don't know about Shelly.
I don't either. All right, so that's fucking weird.
There's not even a chance she was trying to be friendly.
It was absolutely evident that she was trying to freak us out.
Ooh, I don't like that because now I'm picturing it.
Ew. It's like that movie Smile. I hate it.
Mm. We started putting some pieces together that perhaps she was jealous of mom or of our lives as a family.
I mean, she did deliberately go out of her way to get a job at the same place as my dad and then started giving those weird looks.
Oh, this would scare the shit out of me.
Yeah. Because this is someone that wants that.
Exactly. And it's like, I'm like, is she going to like single white female you?
I'm like, how far is she willing to go here?
Yeah, really fucking creepy. Ooh, I don't like this.
Then mom found out she knew every last detail about our lives.
Specifically me. What college I was going to, what my major was, what I drove, who I was dating.
Not that he was even worth knowing. A suspicious amount of detail.
Then we started noticing she would park.
She would just park at the end of our driveway facing our house and sit there for hours.
No. What? No. Like, what? No. That does not work for me.
No. And also, this next sentence, you are not paranoid.
That's fucking terrifying. Mom and I, being the paranoid true crime freaks that we are, pleaded with dad to fix our house cameras since they were broken at the time because we were worried that she would escalate.
Talk about some fear thy neighbor shit from Investigation ID.
I love that show. Then one day, I got a text from my mom saying, someone's in the house.
And even though I wasn't home, oh my God, thank you, goodness, my heart dropped.
My mom recounted the events to us that night, and they are as follows.
She was getting ready for work at about 10 a.m. on a Tuesday when she heard our back door open and close.
Our back door has a very distinct sound because the motherfucker doesn't work right, so you have to slam it to close it.
It's jarring even when you're expecting it, much less when you're not.
She grabbed her 9mm, because you know, Texas, and decides to boss bitch her way through this.
I'm clapping. Damn. She walks through her bathroom bedroom, then quietly out the front door and gets in her car, only to realize her keys are inside.
Oh my god. She goes back inside, still armed, and decides she's just going to check the house, because it's her fucking house, damn it.
Hell yeah. When she checked every room, every closet, every curtain, there was nothing and nobody.
But the back door was unlocked. Weird happening.
Freaked us all out. And dad still wouldn't fix the cameras.
Okay, dad, fix the cameras. I'm like, dad, you work at a fucking security company.
Fix the cameras. Just like grab some new ones.
Flash forward to when we came home for a family dinner one night and there were five broken mugs on the kitchen floor.
Yeah, you guys. gotta fix these cameras this is some like catcher on tape this is like some betty broderick type yes it is could the cat have somehow gotten into the cabinet and push them all out absolutely fucking not and i didn't even realize that you wrote that did the five mugs symbolize us as a family oh oh shit what the oh i don't like that possibly dad just fix the fucking camera okay i'm glad we're all on the same page here at this point i'd be like dad if you don't fix the cameras you're leaving we're leaving i would just learn how to fix the cameras my i'd be like i'm fixing it literally well i went to I went to Lowe's.
Yeah. Jesus. I was literally not sleeping at all at this time because I was terrified.
I would wake up to my entire family dead because of the psycho bitch on the street.
I cried and pleaded with my dad to please just believe that something is majorly off here.
He finally, finally. Thank goodness. fixed the cameras.
So needless to say, we were well aware that whatever was happening in that house was not normal.
And if you ask me in my wild imagination at the time, that mother and son duo was extremely abnormal and unhealthy.
Long after baby bro had begun keeping Noah at a safe arms distance, he randomly decides to show up at our house one day on his bike.
Only my brother and I were home and all the curtains to the numerous windows were open as was the garage.
I don't know how to adequately describe it, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood up seeing him approach the house.
So I told my brother to go hide in the bathroom.
Noah asked if my brother could play, and I pretended that mom and dad had just, sorry, had him doing an insane amount of chores that day, and he was too busy.
Boom. Case closed. Noah sadly walked off and started back to his house.
I feel bad for him. Not five minutes later, my brother and I are in the kitchen.
Okay, well, I guess I spoke too soon. Talking, and we see Noah looking at us through our entryway window.
Shit. I go to the front door again, and I say, hey, sorry, I know it sucks, but he can't play, and mom and dad are not in a great mood, so it's probably best just to skedaddle.
So he does, or so I thought. I kind of watch him walk away, then realize he's turning right instead of left, which means he's headed right for the side of our house where the open garage is, and not his own.
Shit, shit, shit. I run like lightning and close the garage door.
He watched it close. I felt bad. Rejection never feels good.
He was an outcast kid, which we all once were.
I just hated that I was hurting his feelings.
You're like a very good person. I know, you are.
He kept walking around the house and took off on his bike to his house once he made a full circle around our place.
He didn't get very far until he turned around to come back.
That's it. I'm done trying. I hid with my brother in the bathroom for like 30 minutes so I didn't have to send this kid away again.
Even though it's just like, leave us alone, please.
This is crossing that boundary of poor kid to creepy kid.
Yeah. By the time we came out of the bathroom, he was gone for good, and we told our parents what had happened that night.
Would you lookie there? We were able to rewind the cameras and watch this troubled child walk his bike around our house, looking in windows, and even spray painted his name on one side of our fence.
What the actual fuck? This is like one of the wildest listener tales we've gotten.
Yeah. We were freaked out but knew he was likely the victim in his household and was just acting out and looking for some semblance of validation and friendship.
The alarms were going off for Shelly in my head because this child clearly was not okay.
Flash forward to November of 2020. I'm not in town this particular evening, but the fears of my entire family being murdered by the psycho bitch down the street were still very much real.
Mom texts me Lucy, which is terrifying in and of itself, then says, cops are here.
Oh. I try to call her and get declined three times.
Excuse me, ma'am. Yeah, for real. I was going to say, you better give me some more information than that, mama.
Yeah. My abnormally long thumbs were typing as fast as I possibly could, trying to understand what the hell was happening.
Then I get the text, someone was murdered down the street.
And my heart dropped for Noah. Poor kid never had a chance and was just trying to make it in this sick world.
But then I get the text. Shelly's dead.
Noah shot her. Run it back. Say what? I've never been so utterly shocked, but in an odd way, I was also relieved.
I was being psychologically tortured by the thought of what if, and that was no longer a burden I had to carry.
When they rewound the security cameras in their house, the video showed Shelly taking something away from Noah, like an Xbox controller, and Noah going back into his room out of view of the camera.
Then, a minute later, he emerges, looking at the back of his mother's head, slowly raises his gun, and shoots her, instantly killing her.
Wow. He was young, too. He was young, yeah.
He then sits on the floor in front of his mother and takes apart the gun and calls 911 dispatch, telling them he killed his mother.
Wow. One of our family friend cops said that when he was put into the car, mind you, this kid is 12 at the time.
Oh, that's so sad. He had a blank look in his eyes and absolutely no signs of emotion.
Oh, but wait, there's more. Baby bro decides to tell us, yeah, I stopped being friends with him when he pulled out a pocket knife up in my room one day and just stabbed the mattress and drug the knife down.
Excuse me, sir, what? You withheld this?
Disowned. Just kidding, I love him. Just kidding, I love him.
Oh, my God. Upon inspection of the home, they found a shed in the back where they bred bunnies.
Okay, trigger warning, animal abuse. Yeah.
Sounds cute and wholesome, right? But wrong.
Ah, wrong. Because in addition to the alive bunnies, they found mutilated bunnies all over the place too.
A literal serial killer in the making. Wow.
It's safe to come back now. There's a real possibility the child psychopath could be released when he's 18, which is absolutely terrifying given this weird fixation he and his mother had on my family.
The house is still there. The bunnies are not.
I assume they were given to friends, family, or other neighbors.
Though Shelly was the victim of this crime, I truly think she made a victim out of Noah also.
Oh, it's a whole cycle here. Yeah. Word on the street is after this happened was that Noah and Shelly frequently did things that no mother and son should ever do.
Oh, God. But recently, Shelly had begun seeing a new partner.
Perhaps Noah was in some sick way jealous and that played a role in the murder.
This is so fucked up. Perhaps he was sick of the abuse he was enduring.
Perhaps he had some deeply disturbed part of him that came to life with these environmental factors.
Nature versus nurture. This kid didn't have a chance in either.
No. I personally hope that he doesn't get out of prison for obvious reasons, but I can only hope that if he does, that he's a changed person.
I never miss a chance to give my dad shit about not believing our suspicions that the house was unstable.
I never let that down. No, and that bad things would come.
And I always make sure our cameras are working.
Always. Always change those batteries. Oh, yeah.
Always make sure they're working. We got cameras on cameras on cameras, baby.
And I got batteries on batteries on batteries.
Literally, I'm always charging one camera while I'm like, what?
I have backup cameras. That's what I do.
Oh, yeah. I'm so sorry that this is insanely long.
Never be sorry. But I hope you enjoyed it.
I've attached an article about the murder, but it's very short since Noah was and is still a kid.
Keep it weird, but not so weird that. Take it away, Ash.
You become obsessed with the family and drop your kid off and lie to them about having cancer.
And then you tell them, actually, I don't have cancer.
And actually, I'm just going to smile at you creepily while I drive by you and make a point of being a fucking weirdo.
And then this happens. Yeah. That's so much.
Wow. Damn. I was not ready for that. No, I wasn't expecting that.
I was like, what's going on? I was very much not ready for that.
Oh, also, I think we forgot to tell you guys the theme of this listener tale.
Oh, yeah, we have a theme. I forgot that there's a theme here.
The theme is neighborhood crime. Neighborhood crime.
Thank you for sticking around to the 30-minute mark in the show for us today.
Just to be like, hey, this is pretty neighborhood-y.
We're like, sure is. That's the theme. Everyone's like, I'm sensing a theme.
That is the theme. All right. So I think the next one that I will do is when the boogeyman is your neighbor.
Okay. Let's see. Let me open this putty.
Oh, shit. The boogeyman was your neighbor.
I won't give it away, though. The top of this says, I had to redo this because I realized I was being a real bitch to Ash's eyes for not putting this in a PDF and double spacing a O. Oh my God, I love you.
So sorry for the double email. Also sorry for any grammar errors.
Four years in college and I still have issues.
That's hilarious. Also, the theme of this is grammar issues.
Hey there, weirdos. Wow. Let's start off by saying I absolutely love you two.
I love you. I love you too. My sister and I are nine years apart in age, so I really feel like our relationships are similar.
And I love the unique sister-mom-bestie relationship.
I was literally calling Elena mom today.
It's like being loved and then getting a real swift kick in the ass when you need it.
That's exactly what it's like. My sis and I both share deep love for true crime as well and watch murder shows most mornings I spend over there.
We put on a Dateline or a Paula Zahn episode.
Yes, Paula is that bitch. I fucking love Paula Zahn.
Who doesn't? Occasionally our partners will join and stare at us like we're crazy and probably think we might kill them.
Yeah. Which we won't, but damn, I might know a good way how.
Just kidding. Seeing them worry is the best.
Yeah. Anyways, I have a semi-short tale for you, and it's set in Citrus Heights, California.
I was born and raised in this town, and you might be thinking to yourself, gee, that town sounds awfully familiar.
Well, that's because it was terrorized by the one and only piece of absolute swamp garbage, Joseph D'Angelo, aka the East Area Rapist or the Golden State Killer, whatever your persuasion.
P.S., Joe. P.S. Saying persuasion in a French accent always gives a chuckle.
Persuasion. Persuasion. Persuasion. It does.
It does. That's funny. I like that. Now, my story isn't just mine, but also my mom's and sister's.
My mom moved to Citrus Heights when she was a teenager.
The girl is originally from Albany, New York, and has the tude to go with it.
Hell yeah. When she was in high school, that shitheaded swamp creature, D'Angelo, was at work.
Breaking into homes, raping innocent women, and killing people.
You know, the things that most men do in the 70s and 80s.
My mom remembers one particular night of going over to a friend's house for a sleepover.
They were doing the cute high school girl shit.
At the same time, just two houses down. Oh my god.
Yeah. Hilarious. Much time passed and my sister is working at the local yog-yog shop.
What is that? Oh, frozen yogurt. I was like, what is that?
Yog-yog shop. I was like, yog-yog? What is that?
Yog-yog shop. Frozen yogurt, fucking delicious stuff.
Okay, cool. Remember when frozen yogurt swept the fucking nation?
It had a real moment. It did. But you know what?
In Massachusetts, I feel like we just weren't ready for it.
No. We've never been ready for it. I think we were.
There were fucking frozen yogurt shops everywhere you could spit.
But where are they now? Yeah, that's what I mean.
But I'm like, well, yeah, did they go away?
We weren't ready for it. Did they go away in other places, though?
Other places have had fro-yo for centuries.
Really? We were way behind. And then when it came, we were all like, oh, this is great.
And then we were just like, oh, okay, we're going to take a break on this.
And then they all went out of business. We used to go every fucking weekend in high school to the –
It was like an orange disco. Oh, orange leaf.
Orange. Yeah. Orange leaf. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
Orange leaf and a couple of others. But now they're gone.
I know. Yeah. We I'm telling you, we weren't ready.
We were not ready for that jelly. We were not ready for it.
And it's gone. I loved it. I went on so many stupid dates to fucking Froyo, though.
I did not because they weren't around when I was.
Yeah, it was like a very high school, like early college date place to go.
There you go. That's where I got those little animals.
Oh, that's a story for another day. That's a listener tale.
Yeah, it is. So yeah, you know, her sister is working at the local fro-yoke shop.
Yog-yoke shop. Yog-yoke shop. And a boy she worked with opened up to her one night and confessed that his own mother was one of D'Angelo's victims.
That's awful. Now let's fast forward again to 2018.
Your girl was catching some Zs, and I got woken up by a call from my sister.
She is living in Santa Cruz. It's like 7 a.m., and I am disoriented as fuck.
My sister says, get your ass out of bed.
I sent you the address of the East Area Rapist, and he lives in our fucking neighborhood.
Ooh. Oh, my God. Still in dream world, I responded with, huh?
My sister, obviously frustrated at this once in a lifetime opportunity to see a serial killer, tells me to get into my car and drive two blocks down.
I'd like to take a moment and acknowledge that she spent $3 so she could get access to this man's address.
Incredible. To then call me and send me over there.
Dedication at its finest. My sleepy, crusty ass gets into a little car wearing my pajamas, and I drive to the address.
With my sister on speakerphone, I drive slowly by the house.
There's FBI everywhere. I hold up my phone to start taking pictures of the house and the movie-like scene before me.
But it being 7 a.m., them, being the FBI agents, are obviously watching me drive my 2008 Scion TC covered in stickers, a painfully two miles per hour by them. with my phone at the window taking pictures while looking like a crazy person with my knotted-up bedhead.
Meanwhile, my sister is asking a million questions, and it's just too early for my brain to commute.
It didn't occur to me until I had to make a U-turn or flip a bitch to go back towards my house that it is actually super-duper illegal to use your phone while driving.
And the FBI agents are just like, hey, girl.
Oh, well, my brain said. I then drive back to my house and I have class in an hour.
I say, fuck it, and call my boyfriend to come over and drive with me over there again.
I take a shower to uncrustify myself and we drive over to D'Angelo's house.
Now there's seven news trucks, neighbors on all corners of the street, and the FBI doing their sneaky shit.
I swear they pulled out a hundred bags worth of evidence.
Oddly enough, they were using the brown paper lunch bags, and I found myself very confused by this.
TV really does lie. It's true. They really do use, like, brown paper bags.
After listening to neighbors and news trucks, we found that apparently the FBI had been watching him for weeks.
They posed as neighbors, and no one had a goddamn clue.
It was also crazy because we found out that at that time of his arrest, he lived with his daughter and granddaughters.
Yeah. Can you even fucking imagine? During all the commotion, my boyfriend and I got caught on the news.
I'll share the picture below. And Jesus Christ, I look like a greaser.
Call me Danny Zuko. Hey, Danny. What's up?
I didn't have time to do my hair and all the excitement and decided to brush my hair back like I'm in the movie Grease.
Embarrassed. No, you look great. My first time on TV and I look like that.
And right next to me is my cute-ass boyfriend really stealing my spotlight buster.
No, you guys are both adorable. How fucking crazy is that?
I could have crossed paths with him many times in my 18 years of life before he was arrested.
Like, he could have been at the local Taco Bell the same time I was.
Can't make this shit up. I also wanted to write this to show how D'Angelo had truly affected people throughout Citrus Heights for close to 50 years, and even today, with those who are still healing from his deeds.
He's an asshole of the highest degree. I wanted to add that my big sis is a high school biology teacher.
Hell yeah. And when she teaches the DNA unit, she uses D'Angelo's case.
She loves to build up the anticipation and then show the kids the news clips that I'm looking so beautifully in.
Sister love, what can I say? Thank you so much for reading my story.
My name is Alex, by the way. Feel free to use my name.
I listen to you guys everywhere I go. Car rides, in the school library, at the gym while I'm cooking, etc.
I even get annoyed when we're getting to a good part and someone tries to talk to me.
Like, excuse me, I'm bonding with these soul sisters.
I love that we're all soul sisters in this, like, one unit here.
I know, I do too. So needless to say, if I hear my story, I'll most likely scream inconveniently loud wherever I am at the moment.
I hope you were somewhere awesome. Ah! I hope you're at Taco Bell.
Yeah. Thank you for always being amazing in a bright part of my day.
Even when y'all say to skip forward for warning parts, I'm like, it's okay, ladies.
I can take it. I attached images on the email below of me driving past the house, going back and the news moment.
I just looked at all of them. So keep it weird, but not so weird that your mom has a sleepover and some crazy guy assaults a woman two houses down and not so weird that he ends up being your fucking neighbor.
And also not so weird that you drive by the FBI at 7 a.m. taking pictures while you drive two miles per hour past them and not so weird that you brush your hair back like a greaser and get on national news.
Don't keep it that weird. I also love that your solution was to just brush it back.
Like, why didn't you just put it in a ponytail, girlfriend?
I love that you were like, this will work.
Put it in a snatched ponytail next time.
That's my advice. This will do. I love you.
Oh, that's just so funny. You're amazing.
Alex, that was great. Thank you for that.
Oh, my goodness. Oh, you guys are the best.
Truly the best. All right. My next one is listen a tale.
Attempted murderers and my half-naked husband.
The fuck? The fuck is right. For real. All right.
It says, hello, ladies. This is my third attempt at a listener tale.
I've been wanting to submit one for ages, but my last attempts were total dumpster fires because I'm a new mom with mom brain out the wazoo.
I feel that. The most active toddler. I literally paused because I knew you were going to say that.
And husband in the army. So I'm flying solo 90% of the time.
Bless your soul. I was just going to say, I do not feel that.
And I feel for you because my goodness, you're like a warrior.
I could sing the solo song to you, but isn't it like Jason Derulo?
But copyright problems. Picture it. Just make sure.
Rest assured, I will be submitting it, resubmitting it, excuse me, coherently shortly after this.
Any who's it? Now that I have my wee one on a pretty regular schedule and plenty of caffeine to fuel me, I'm trying again.
I will include a pick or five because my genius Gerber baby is my pride and joy and should brighten everyone's day and my totally non-biased opinion.
I feel that so hard. I love you already.
And your baby is the cutest fucking baby, one of the cutest fucking babies I've ever seen.
I just want to thank my aunt Kat who like Elena to Ash is like a big sister to me and turned me on to the pod last year.
I love this. I also love that that's like a theme of another theme of this one.
A theme of a theme. I am obsessed. You two are amazing.
And Elena, I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of my copy of The Butcher and the Wren to devour.
Well, yeah. Attached is a double-spaced putt-a-fuh is the brief story of the time my husband chased attempted murderers in his undies.
I'm obsessed. P.S. Feel free to use my name.
It's Kim. And listen for the sound of me imploding if you read this on the pod.
Hold on. Ready? Oh, I heard it. Oh, Kim.
We love ya. Wait. I'm getting to the putt-a-fuh.
The putt-a-fuh. The putt-a-fuh. That's how you would say it if you were, like, English.
The putt-a-fuh. The line just goes, my husband, brave or dumb.
A question we all ask. A few years ago, we lived in an apartment complex near the...
Oh, Wykella Outlets in Oahu. My husband, let's call him Darren, and I were lucky enough to be stationed in Hawaii back in 2014.
That's why I was born in Hawaii, because my dad was stationed there.
Boom. And we were even lucky enough to have his family join us shortly after when his dad, who was also in the Army, happened to get orders there as well.
Damn. It's a family thing. It was a really nice touristy area, but also happened to be a stone's throw away from... like kella thank you um which could be sketched to say the least hawaii may look nice but they're but like anywhere it's got its problems i lost my place and then i had to lean back in my chair and i sounded like i farted but i didn't Anyway, it's not uncommon to see people in various forms of dress walking along the freeway, talking, shouting at themselves, others, cars, et cetera, at any given point in the day.
Welcome to Boston as well. I was going to say, I think everywhere.
I was going to say, welcome to insert city here.
Yeah, right. Darren drove a later model Ford pickup, which is important to note because this particular model has a very inconvenient locking system, which we discovered when it was broken into not once, but twice.
Damn. The second time shortly after we received it back from the shop after being into the first time.
Fuck us, right? I think I said that all wrong.
The second time shortly after we received it back from the shop after being broken into the first time.
I said it right there. You got it. I don't know what I said last time.
Me neither. I felt your eyes glance over like, the fuck?
I was like, you okay? What's going on? We went downstairs for a quick lunch break and sometimes when I come back up, I'm like, you're in a silly, goofy mood.
I'm just like dumb when I come back. They say fuel your body, but should you?
Maybe you shouldn't. Jokes. The locking cylinder sat right on the door body, which meant all the thieves needed to do to break in was punch it in with a screwdriver or a hammer.
We got off pretty lucky, left the vehicle they just ransacked and ended up taking some documents and miscellaneous junk.
We still had to put an alert on all our credit accounts and replace some important documents, but overall it definitely could have been worse.
I feel like that also would be like so just like, ugh, like someone was in here.
I hate that. I also just had to swallow a burp.
I'm really sorry. I'm fucking up your tail.
Is this okay? No, this is not. Is this person?
Is this person sitting next to me? Is this person all right?
She's talking about me. No. The answer is no.
Anyways. Fuck. We would find out how much worse very soon.
While the truck was being repaired, we had to borrow a vehicle from my in-laws.
Our apartment complex had very limited parking.
We had one stall allocated to us that was directly in front of our unit, and there was just street parking just outside of the complex off the main road.
Since the break-ins mostly occurred outside the complex, we parked the in-laws' car in our stall and had our vehicles on the street.
Probably should have parked the truck with the wonky lock in that stall, but hindsight's 20-20, am I right?
You were trying to be good in-laws, you know?
Yeah, trying to be good kids to your parents.
I think our thought process was we would rather have something happen to us rather than our family.
Totally. Being good in-laws. Who knows? Anyway, the night after we got the truck back, I'm woken up at around 1 a.m. when I hear my husband yell, what the fuck?
Uh-oh. And run out of the bedroom and out of the apartment.
Scary, right? Terrifying. But Darren has this habit of waking up from dreams still half asleep and doing weird shit.
So in my tired mind, I was like, goddammit, this better not be a fucking monster bug fiasco.
Another one. Another one. Another one. I love how there's no explanation.
It's just like, yep, there was one. Yep, it could be.
This could have been another one. Yeah. Yeah, that's a problem.
Oh no. The thieves had broken into my husband's truck again, stolen the keys he left in the cup holder.
Dumb, I know. And driven around until they found the matching car and stole it.
Damn. Oh, my God. He had heard the chirp and in his underwear ran to the car.
Oh, my God. Attempted to yank open the door as they were pulling out.
Nearly getting run down, not by just him, but his buddy in the vehicle.
They had come in and then chased him. Dick swang him with the breeze.
What? I'm crying. Dick swangin' in the breeze.
Dick swangin' in the breeze. The fact that he walked away with only a few cuts from jumping over the bushes is nothing short of a miracle.
My father-in-law... All I had was chicken, I swear.
No alcohol. My father-in-law was more upset that Darren had attempted to confront these men than having his vehicle being stolen.
The whole family gave him quite an earful about putting himself in danger for quite some time, all while he rolled his eyes playing Mr. Tough Guy. until the media showed up on our doorstep.
Oh, no. A few days after the incident, a reporter rang our doorbell asking if he was the owner of a vehicle that was stolen in the neighborhood and what he knew about the body they found in it.
What? After stealing the vehicle, these men kidnapped another man, duct taped him, shot him, and left him for dead in the burning vehicle.
What the fuck? Fuck. Oh my god. Whoa. We were stunned to say the least.
I would like to think that Darren will be thinking twice before charging into any crazy situations in the future.
But to be honest, hard-headed could be his middle name, so who fucking knows.
But I will wrap this up as my munchkin has woken up and is now climbing on my lap trying to grab this computer.
I've included some links if you want to check out the story any further.
Keep it weird and keep being the bad bitches we know and love.
I am dying. And oh my god, your baby. Oh, my God.
Your baby is so cute. And Kim, I'm really sorry that I fucked up half your story.
I was really trying. And it's nothing you did.
It's all me. It's everything that we did.
Yeah. Everything. It was the chicken, you know?
Yeah. Too much rosemary. It was the chicken.
Never too much rosemary. Who am I kidding?
Kim. I love your life. This baby is so cute.
I love your husband running out, dick swangin' in the breeze.
Dick swangin' in the breeze. To stop this.
And to stop your in-law's car from being stolen.
For real. Like, that's some good people right there.
That's icon shit. It truly is. A little scary, a little dangerous, but good people right there.
Yeah, we don't recommend it. Yeah, don't do it.
But we commend it. But you know what? He lived to tell the tale.
We don't recommend. We commend. Ooh. I like it.
It sounded better in my head. When you had the it after, I think it sounded better.
We don't recommend it, but we commend it.
Okay, okay, okay. Okay, okay, okay. Okay.
Guys. Tales. Tales. From the blog. I knew that was going to get you.
You said the bloge, too. It's the bload.
I'm not old, so. I was going to say. Walked yourself into that.
That's just a piece of your youth right there.
Did anyone else watch Tales of the Bload?
Did anybody see Tales of the Bloag? I'm just asking for a friend.
Because Tales of the Bloat was a fever dream.
Wasn't it like one of the first things on YouTube?
Yeah, it was like the early YouTube days with like Salad Fingers, Tales of the Bloat.
I like rusty spoons. We love a salad fingers moment.
But guys, no, we were saying tails, listener tails.
You guys killed it. Killed it. You're killing it all the time.
Always killing it. You're killing it all the place.
ABK, always be killing it. All will used be closing.
Nope. Nope. Not what I said. That's not what I said.
Are you doing one more or are we signing off here?
I don't know. Should I do one more? Do one more.
All right. I'll do one more. Do one more.
I'll do one more. All right. Yay. So we're going to do, we're going to end on my neighbor from literal hell.
Satan. Satan. Clank. Clank. Is that you?
It says, hello. Can I use your name? I think I can.
I'm going to. Hello. My name is Stephanie.
My wife and I are massive fans. So we immediately had to tell you gals about this absolute unhinged stalker fucking bullshit.
Of course, I'm going to say that we absolutely adore you guys.
I adore you. I adore you too. The way you do your research, tell your insane stories and advocate for victims and their stories is truly something so powerful and unique.
Wow. Thank you. You guys are really great.
We've incorporated your podcast into our nightly routine of sitting quietly together and ignoring each other until we have to comment on the unhinged shit.
It's our favorite part of the day. That's kind of like what me and Drew do, except with TikToks.
Sending TikToks. And then it's like, if you have a comment about the TikTok I sent you, you may break the silence.
Yeah, it's always when you send the TikTok, you say, did you watch that?
This one's really funny. Or you say like, this one reminds me of you.
Watch that one right now. Watch that now and let me tell you what it is beforehand.
Sometimes I'll literally see that I've texted Drew and he swipes up to like get rid of my notification.
And I'm like, I'm right here and I'll kill you.
Like son of a bitch. All right. So let me set the stage, right?
We live in an apartment that has a second floor.
The doors go directly outside and to the right of our doors, the staircase that goes to our upstairs neighbor.
Past the stairs are literal miles of woods, which I have many stories about, including but not limited to.
Why the fuck are their children's clothes on hangers hung 10 plus feet up in the trees?
Come again? Wait, did you send these? Because I need to read that.
I'm going to look right now. The next one is, what creature just asked me my name from the woods? ah in my personal favorite why does my cat keep responding to the trees when they cry uh if you have not sent these i'm gonna be so disappointed please send these i'm about to find out immediately and you're right no any whore Any whore.
I'm going to take that. Thanks, Stephanie.
I'm taking it. We have an upstairs neighbor.
We have a neighbor upstairs. We've had plenty of issues with them since we moved in.
Any whore. That's really funny. I'm never going to be over it. complaints, 20 very drunk people fighting and slamming doors all night, and most recently the use of the apartment as a quote, drug detox safe haven as they so called it.
I attached videos to the email of the situations I'm referencing here so you can see the absolute fuck show we have been dealing with.
The first big issue was the pacing. You may be asking me, what's so wrong with a guy going for a nice walk?
Well, I'll tell you. My issue is not a leisurely nightly stroll.
It's pacing past my door, around the entire apartment, and back to my front door every 10 minutes, four hours, from 11 p.m. to 3 a.m., Damn.
How do I know? We purchased a ring camera shortly after moving in after I had two grand computers stolen from our door.
Fuck that. This dude would literally walk past my door for hours and past my windows for hours.
The fuck? I eventually confronted him about this and told him he was making myself and my wife very uncomfortable.
And if he was going to continue his nightly strolls, he does them elsewhere.
That is very reasonable. Of course it is.
He promptly told me I was a bitch, along with a few other choice words, and that he could walk wherever he pleased, including into my home again.
What? I tried to ask him what he meant by again, because ex-fucking-scuse me?
I was like, did I miss a part in this story already?
Yeah, but he walked away. four new door latches were bought promptly after what the fuck oh that's the creepiest shit i have ever heard what that's it right that's the worst of it of course not otherwise this would be a short and very boring tale not too boring actually that was terrifying that's not boring at all next came the listening to the walls across from our apartment is a girl we will call samantha samantha samantha Samantha lived alone and walked her dog by the woods every night around the same time.
As mentioned before, we have a ring camera.
I got a notification at 4 a.m. that there was motion outside the door.
The notification woke me up, but I just figured it was Samantha walking the dog again.
Thanks, Satan, I checked the camera. The neighbor was pressed against the wall, ear to the fucking paneling, trying to listen to Samantha's apartment."
At four in the morning? I went to the live view to see if he was still there.
I was about to join him outside with a baseball bat and the fury of a five-foot-tall southern woman scorned.
Can I get a hell yeah? Hell yeah. But he had left.
Damn it. As soon as Samantha walked her dog the next morning, I met her outside to show her the footage.
To say she was terrified is an understatement.
Yeah. Apparently, she recognized this guy as the man who pried open her living room window to ask her for her phone number.
Sir! What the fuck? Sir, get the fuck out of my windows.
She had, of course, filed a police report and hadn't seen him since, but this was insane.
Yeah, it was. We walked straight to the leasing office and showed them the video, to which they responded, well, what can we do about it?
Uh, anything at all? At this point, it became a personal grudge that could only be settled by police getting involved.
She filed another report, and we were told that a deputy would be in the parking lot that night to watch for anything suspicious.
They never came, by the way. Wow. Real nice.
This was the last we saw or heard from him for a while.
I wish it had been a longer while, considering how this all ended.
Oh, no. Now, I know, fresh air is for dead people, but my God...
Same. But my God, do I love some fresh eggs.
She said it really funny. But someone will yell at us.
Somebody will yell at us. So we're not going to.
But let me tell you. That was funny. But my God, do I love some fresh night air after the rain.
I'm not stupid about it, of course. Every window has a fold-out block that prevents the window from ever being opened more than an inch.
It also sounds a very loud alarm if it's broken off or pushed on too hard by someone trying to open the window.
So one night, it was nice and cool. It had just rained and we had some friends.
We will call them Jessica and Sierra staying over.
The living room window was cracked. It had the block on it to let in some fresh air while our friends watched some TV.
My wife and I are comfy in our beds listening to our favorite podcast.
Can you guess which one? Aw, date line.
When we hear a blood-curdling fucking scream from the living room, followed by the front door being ripped open.
Oh, my God. I told my wife to stay inside and call 911 before I ran into the living room to see my front door wide open and Jessica curled up on the floor sobbing.
I run out the door to see Sierra holding the neighbor by his throat to the ground.
Sierra! Sierra! After some yelling and commotion, I'm told that Jessica heard something and looked over at the window to see our neighbor with his full face pressed to the window and his little buddy out.
Oh! beat the shit out of him literally beat the shit out of him that's fucked the neighbor still held on the ground by sierra tells us he was simply looking for his dog and thought he saw it in our apartment oh and your dick just came out for a fucking surprise what oh i'm oh i can't men are filth not all of you but not all of you but jesus you know because that's how normal people check to see if their lost dog was in someone else's home yeah what do Are you searching with your Richard?
By now, my wife has come out to console Jessica, and we are told by the police that the police are on their way.
Cool. Everything will be handled by the police.
Not a problem. Yeah, because they were great the last time we saw them.
Yeah, for real. Until the neighbor punches Sierra, stands up, hits me, and books it into the woods.
Are you fucking kidding me? I will... I will get you.
I will get you. One way or another. We stand there, absolutely shocked and holding our faces, wondering what the literal fuck just happened.
Yeah. We decided at this point to go back into the apartment and wait for the cops to come.
30 full minutes later, they arrive, instruct us to, quote, I don't know, just shoot him next time.
File a report and leave. Yes, seriously, I literally wish I was lying.
I'm like actually flabbergasted right now.
I wish I had more of an update after that, but we never saw the guy again.
The police stayed outside for the rest of their shift and never saw him return.
The other upstairs neighbor wrote a letter and left it on our door apologizing for the inconvenience.
Inconvenience. And begging us to not have him evicted.
I would have that motherfucker evicted. We told the leasing office again what the hell we had just gone through, and they told us if we didn't like the area, we could move.
Wow, what a great place. sierra sierra had a few lawyer buddies who informed us that an in tenant landlord laws here if the property manager does not make an effort to protect the safety and integrity of the apartments property and tenants the lease could be broken with no punishment or we could petition our rent to be covered we ended up breaking the lease and getting the fuck out of there i'm so glad good so yeah that's the story of my crazy fucking neighbor that i hope was taken by the woods I hope so, too.
Sorry this story is so long and hopefully not super confusing.
Not at all. It's totally okay if you don't want to use this story.
We just had to tell you all about it. Oh, my wife says hi.
Hi, Stephanie's wife. Thank you, guys. Holy shit.
The way that I... I don't know. Just shoot him next time.
Yeah, just shoot him next time. Oh, okay.
File a report. That's fine. Whatever. Holy shit.
What the fuck? I'm like – I can't believe how terrifying that guy was.
Guys, this whole – I'm like, I don't want to go home.
That's terrifying. To my neighborhood. Damn it.
To my neighborhood. You know, these neighborhood tales.
I'm currently in my neighborhood. Your neighborhood rocks.
My neighborhood does rock. My neighborhood also rocks.
What the fuck am I talking about? I was going to say, my neighborhood rocks.
Fuck my neighborhood. My neighborhood rocks so hard.
What? What's happening? It's a day. It really is.
It's been a drizzle. But guys, you, wow, you really took it there with the neighbor tales.
We did. I'm sorry that you all have such scary neighbors.
I know. But if anybody has more, send them in with, like, listener tale in the subject line, but put, like, neighbor story.
Yeah. And then we can do more installments of these.
Because these little themed listener tales are fun.
Yeah, and you guys seem to be liking them.
Yeah, you're doing a good job. You all seem to be liking them.
You do. You're doing great. You're doing a good job, man.
I'm sorry we're so insane today. I'm not.
But you guys are really funny. You're really lovely.
We love you. You are so lovely. You really are.
She's like, stop singing. All right. Well, thank you for listening.
And we hope you keep listening. We hope you keep it weird.
As weird as us this episode. Not so weird that you forget how to end your show.
Listen, it happens again. If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.
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