Episode 604: Listener Tales 90 | Morbid

Hey weirdos, it's Ash here, ready to share a little secret.

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Visit audible .com morbid you guys i tried my mochi ice cream the other day and i was lifted off of this planet into just another galaxy entirely it is a cool creamy scoop of ice cream wrapped in a soft chewy dough it's literally like a little sweet ice cream dumpling it's pillowy soft d to the e to the l -i -c -i -o -u -s and it just feels very indulgent i loved it i tried the cookies and cream flavor and I still have the mango flavor to try.

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Hey, weirdos. I'm Ash.

And I'm Alayna. And this is Morbid.

this is morbid morbid in the late late morning it's true and it's a special morbid because it's listener tale which means it's brought to you by you for you from you and all about you i noticed a blister on my foot while i said that and she made a weird face it's do you see what's going on with my foot right now yeah you've got a lot going on i could never sell feet pics oh my god Not that I will Not that I will Get your minds out of the gutter I've been doing this for like all day And you kick it over daily I learned how to do little kicks It's like when you learn how to swim We have ottomans

We both have the same one Which you never use You never use the foot stool for your foot No I use it as a desk Yeah fuck that I use my foot stool for my feet feetsies.

Lots of talk about feet today on the podcast. Yeah.

But usually I tip mine over because I rock it around.

Ash just kicks it over randomly at random times.

It's very loud. Whenever I do it, Alina always goes...

Because he usually knocks things over.

It's a big deal. There's something on me.

But it's listener tail and Ash is going to continue picking at her feet.

I'm not picking There was something on my toe.

God! And, uh, yeah, it's Listener Tail.

So stupid! I don't think we have a theme for this one.

I think it's just, like, a mishmash bagosh.

Like, oshkosh bagosh.

Exactly, but mishmash bagosh.

They're overall slate and so will this Listener Tail.

There you go. Let's start it off, brother.

Are you ready? I'm ready.

Alright, it's Listener Tales.

I heard do you like cat ghosts?

I do. I mean, yeah.

I prefer the living cats, but if all I can get is a ghost cat, then yeah.

And if I'm going to get a ghost, a cat might be kind of cool.

That's very true. I agree.

All right. Let me open this bad Larry up.

All right. This is from Chris Chapman, and they say, yes, you can use my name or any other names in this story, but especially the pet names because they are asterisk, amazing asterisk.

Oh, I'm excited to hear your pet names.

I'm excited, too. Hey, Ashlena and the rest of the podcast crew.

Obviously, I love you guys and your show.

I love the way you add levity and humor to each case.

The way that you tell us about the victims so that we can almost get to know them.

And the way you insult the villains that take them from this world too soon.

Thank you for appreciating that.

Thank you. Also, y 'all are snarky AF, and I'm here for it.

Yeah, we are. I'm glad you're here for it.

I appreciate you for taking the time to read this, even if it doesn't make it to the show.

Well, guess what, Chris?

It's on the show. Chris.

Guess what, Auntie Chris?

It's me, Todd Cranes, and you're on the show.

There you go. I have a lot of stories that I could share, but most of them are fairly traumatic, and I would much rather share one that might bring someone some comfort or make them smile.

Although I have some stories about my dog befriending the ghost that lived in our apartment, this one is about a ghost cat.

This is a pretty heartwarming story, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

You do? We want the other ones, too.

Yeah. For context, I said context so weird, didn't I?

For context. context i am coming from the evangelical to witchcraft pipeline hello religious trauma what a pipeline that is a pipeline indeed and my mother and grandmother on her side have always been abusive i'm sorry i'm sorry and i'm no longer in contact with either of them good for you good their loss however this grandmother says she's a witch and has always said that i was as well and that we come from a long line of witches she would say this was with a level of sincerity she She rarely ever showed anyone, and I've always taken this to heart.

She's also a pathological liar, so although the words she said and the levity in which she said them were convincing, I always held these statements loosely.

I'm obsessed with your realness.

You're just like, let's be honest, though.

She was a pathological liar.

She was a real one, but also a pathological liar.

My dad's mother I call Nana, and she is everything that is right in the world.

There are no witches on her side of the family, but Nana and her house were always full of love.

Aw, Nana. I love that.

up before i was born she had adopted two kittens one she named peggy sue peggy sue after a song that was popular when she was young and the other leroy shut up leroy and peggy sue oh my god peggy sue was a smart protective and sassy calico who would bite someone if they deserved it such as being racist or homophobic good for peggy sue also i think i know what song you're i i think I think I do, too.

Like Peggy Sue. Peggy Sue.

Is that the? Who is it by?

I don't know. That's going to bother me.

It's not a Buddy Holly song.

Could be. Oh, that's Ghost. That was just playing out.

Imagine that. Imagine that Ghost was just playing.

While we're talking about Ghost. Topical.

Look at that. Oh, it is Buddy Holly.

What? Look at me, everybody.

Check you out. I only remembered that because my youngest, for a time when she was little, would only be soothed by playing Buddy Holly songs.

especially the everyday it's getting closer oh she loved that that was a banger so she had great music taste from the start so peggy sue i love it now leroy was not the brightest cat but he was big and soft and full of love and when i was a kid i would find him where he was napping and lay my head on his big stomach as if he were a pillow if he minded me he never let me know and i'm not sure he would have even known how to bite someone leroy was and his spirit still is a big big softie.

I love Leroy. I love him forever.

The fact that you could just lay on him like a pillow.

All right. Oh, that's Leroy.

Everybody pour one out for Leroy.

Truly. These cats lived happy and charmed lives, having their every need and desire met until they died in their sleep peacefully at a very old age.

I was 18 and Leroy was 19 when he died and Peggy Sue lived to be about 21.

Wow. I was about 20 years old.

Their deaths, their deaths were very hard for me, not only because because I loved them so much, but I had never known life without them.

I know, that always makes me so sad.

I know. That's how the girls felt with Bubba.

Yeah, exactly. Although I knew it was naive even then, some part of me had always thought that no matter what, I would always have Leroy and Peggy Sue.

Something tells me you always will have Peggy Sue and Leroy.

Yeah, and I don't think that's naive.

No, not at all. Fast forward about a decade and some change.

My husband, our dog, and I buy a house.

His full name is Ozzy Pawsborn.

Ozzy Pawsborn. You read that right.

This is, I'm not You guys are doing it right Your whole family is doing pet names right Ozzy Pawsborn Forever Oh my god I love it We named him after the iconic singer Because he once snatched a wig right off my husband's Grandmother's head and ran around their house With it and if that's not the crazy Train I don't know what it is Ozzy mopes around the house Presumably missing the apartment ghost And doesn't act in any way like this new to us and yet very old house is haunted we take this as a good sign and go on about our lives now is a good time to mention that i'm a chronically ill girl i'm

sorry and that i live in constant pain i'm even sorry yeah i still work and i muddle through okay but about a year into the house and this pain has increased to nearly unbearable amounts oh i feel like my organs are are being ripped apart and some days i can barely stand oh my god i can't imagine The pain gets worse, and my doctor has no idea what to do with me.

That's awful. It's so scary, too.

I drink more water and some pain -relieving tea, and it helps, but never for long.

I start going to bed the moment I get home from work and feel the familiar weight of my dog snuggling beside me to give me comfort.

My husband works nights, and soon after he leaves, I feel a cat jump on the bed and lay right down next to my dog.

Stop. We don't have a cat, but honestly, at this point, I'm so out of it, I don't even question it or open my eyes.

but this feeling of love and comfort radiates over me oh my god is this leroy i think it could be i feel like it's leroy don't look a gift horse or a gift cat in the mouth am i right this begins to happen every night ozzy sometimes shuffles around to accommodate the cat making room for him again we do not have a cat as my husband is very allergic my first thought is that maybe there was a cat that had lived here before and some part of his energy is still about the house but that doesn't seem quite right i've often heard that it's unusual for animals to leave ghosts behind not to mention this cat feels

familiar i know it i feel like it's leroy after a few weeks of this someone asked uh asked me if i had a cat growing up and immediately i think of my sweet nana's sweetest cat leroy yes i tell him thank you for visiting me and he ignores me except for his big texas cat body next to my legs or my abdomen providing the warmth and comfort that no ordinary ghost can that's so precious i love it it's such a different feeling I know.

Eventually, I find out that I need surgery.

All the scar tissue in my abdomen and uterus is causing problems and if left alone could become cancer.

This should be terrifying, but at this point, I just want to be put out of my misery.

I'm sorry. I have the surgery, five scars, and the surgeon notices something else.

My bladder is covered in a cyst -like tissue.

This is an incredibly painful issue called interstitial cystitis.

alright I'm gonna let Google say it because I am bad at saying it interstitial cystitis I think I might have been right you were right well I'm sorry that you found out you have that it's not deadly but it is a huge pain in the organs is what they wrote Leroy and Ozzy comfort me every day of the three weeks that it takes me to heal my husband does not see or sense Leroy at all even though he's taken off work to baby me while I recover once I'm healed up for surgery I tell Leroy thank you again and I burned some catnip for his spirit to enjoy.

Oh, that was so sweet.

My husband, somehow still a skeptic, laughs at me.

But then once the catnip is burned, something falls off a shelf in the room I had been in as if a cat had knocked it off.

I haven't sensed Leroy again and Ozzy hasn't made any space for any ghost cats in a long time.

But it's very comforting to know that I was right all those years ago when I thought I would never be without Leroy and Peggy Sue.

I'm sure she's been around a time or two giving me strength and sass.

Somehow I just know that Leroy will be back I'm obsessed with Leroy.

I love him. Keep it weird and definitely keep it so weird that when your organs hurt, you are haunted by the cat of your childhood, and that reminds you that you are not alone, and the spirit of love always continues.

My God, the spirit of your cat from your childhood.

I love it. It's beautiful.

I love it so much. And I hope you're feeling a little bit better after your surgery.

Damn, I seriously, I'm so sorry you had to go through all that.

But Leroy knew that you needed comfort in that time.

He was like, you're not feeling that great.

And then when surgery came, he was like, I'll help you through this.

And then you thanked him with catnip, which is beautiful.

And he knocked something off a shelf to show you that he appreciated it.

And that's cats. And that's cats.

And that's on cats.

There's cats in the next Listener Tale too.

And they're so cute.

Oh my God, there's more cats.

And there's dogs. And there's doges.

Oh my God, dogs and cats and babies.

Oh, my God. I'm obsessed.

He gave us the trifecta of cute.

Hold on. I'm putting this in a doc so I can read it because old -ass McGee over here.

Old -ass McGee. My name is old -ass McGee.

Old -ass McGee over here.

All right. So let us see.

I'm making sure. Okay.

I can use your name.

So this one is called.

I'm just going to go right in and read it.

I'm a fucking wreck.

Just raw -dogging the term.

I'm just raw -talking the Listener Tale.

This one is, my aunt picked up a hitchhiking—nope.

My aunt picked up a hitchhiking murderer and didn't get yeeted.

A Listener Tale. That's a survivor story.

I love that. I also love when you guys will put a very, like, dramatic story, like, headline, and then you'll say, a Listener Tale.

It's always like, a novel.

You know, I like it.

A true story. It makes me laugh.

So it says, hey, weirdos and crew.

Drew, my name is Sam, and just let me give y 'all your flowers.

Thank you for making a safe, victim -conscious podcast sprinkled with your beautiful voices, dark humor, and spookiness.

Thank you. Thanks. I started listening a few years ago and got my man to start listening.

I always love when that happens.

I do, too. Now we lovingly refer to you as the girls.

I love that. I love it.

We've bonded over y 'all and often find ourselves saying, I think the girls covered this one, when watching or listening to other true corruption.

Amazing. I love that we're the girls.

That's it. I love it.

If we're in the car, y 'all are there with us.

If I'm making dinner with my son, you're enthralling us both as he jumps along excitingly in his bouncer.

So thank you for being an unintentional building block in our own spooky household.

You betcha. That just made me so happy.

Thank you for allowing us to be.

Also, your son is so fucking cute.

I can't even handle it.

As a fellow paranormal magnet, I have many, many ghost stories, but I don't have many true crime stories.

That's probably great.

Yeah, that's probably a better thing.

You know, I would rather have those stories than true crime stories, like, in my personal life.

Yeah, same. Then one came to mind.

It didn't happen to me, but to my great aunt.

I asked her permission to share her story, but she requested her name and the name of the city not be mentioned, just in case this guy gets out.

I'll refer to her as Auntie, and the perp as The Man.

The Man. I think that's a safe way to refer to them.

This happened in a riverfront desert community on the border of California and Arizona on the Colorado River.

Auntie lived on the California side.

Her backyard was literally the Colorado River and Arizona on the other side of the bank.

That's wild. That is wild.

Her house was on the outside of the town.

Normally took about 15 to 20 minutes just to drive back to the main highway that cuts right through the middle of town.

Between her house and town, there's nothing but desert, irrigation canals, and farmland.

It's a very long, hot walk back to town from where she's located.

I would die in that scenario.

Just that. I don't need true crime to happen in that scenario.

I would just die from the weather.

I just really hate being hot Me too, I just really don't like it First, my aunt She was in her early 60s when this happened A short, older, tanned Italian auntie Who was always laughing loudly with her sisters And always sporting her gold rings Love her already Auntie was leaving her house one day And saw a swarm of police cars at the end of her street At a local campground But didn't think too much of it As she headed down towards town She saw a man walking down the road Headed the same way she was driving Here's our guy Always the loving, empathetic human being she is, she pulled over, asked the man where he

was headed, and he said he was trying to get to the Arizona side so he could hitchhike to another town further north.

And since it wasn't that far out of the way, she offered to give him a lift to that side of the river as she was headed in that direction.

Dun -dun -dun. And at this point, our Sam has three red flags on either side of, ma 'am!

And I agree, ma 'am!

Ma 'am! Her town was a common stopping place for hitchhikers.

So him telling her this wasn't too weird and he seemed pretty clean and normal.

Something in the back of her mind kept telling her it was to get a really good look at the man's face.

So she made sure to memorize it and what he was wearing.

Smart lady. Auntie drove with the man and his backpack in the front seat, no less.

And she had a face palm emoji over the river to an area hitchhikers frequented so he could keep moving on.

He told her his name, quote unquote.

They chatted and it was an uneventful ride.

She crossed state lines, dropped him off, wished him luck, and thought nothing of it.

Insert SpongeBob narrator voice.

I do know this one.

One day later. Wow.

I am so impressed. Because I love that narrator voice.

She's a SpongeBob twirly.

Auntie's neighbor called her and told her she had missed all the excitement at the campground the day before.

Confused, she asked what happened.

Her neighbor told her that someone had murdered an elderly woman and her son, who was in his 50s, and that the police were looking for a man fitting, you guessed it, the man's description.

Damn. Auntie, in limitless horror, called the police and told them that she had basically just helped this man cross straight lines.

Like, damn. And that did just mean, like, so I'm a nice person, and I might have got this person out of Dodge and didn't mean to.

Hello, 911? I fucked up.

Oops. She basically helped this man cross state lines and evade capture.

She was terrified that she would be arrested for aiding a literal murder or escape custody.

But thankfully she was not and gave the police all the information she had.

The man was caught shortly after.

Yes, she had to testify in court in front of him.

Oh, that's scary. I don't like that, that he made her do that.

My uncle, R .I .P. Aw, R .I .P.

your uncle. Who was a prison guard turned bailiff accompanied her and sat right behind the man in court.

just in case he tried to attack my aunt.

Wow, that's a real one.

Yeah, he was like, I will fuck you up.

He said, try it, motherfucker.

He didn't, and my uncle also avoided going to jail.

Good. The man was tried, convicted, and will be eligible for parole in 2026.

Okay, I have my goosebumps.

I don't like that at all.

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he could have easily overtaken my sweet cancer ass kicking motorcycle riding jet ski riding pontoon driving on if he wanted to she's the baddest bitch i'm obsessed i want to hang out with her same like fuck let's go on a pontoon boat hello let's go um he could have stolen her jewelry and hurt or killed her that is very true she thanks the angels in her back seat for watching over her and keeping her safe also for the voice in her head telling her to memorize everything about this man so she could help law enforcement yeah thank goodness she did intuition yeah let's walk through the red flag shall we

red flag one picking up a stranger in the middle of nowhere that's it that's the red flag the whole flag we're grateful she came out unscathed and now endures eternal what the fuck were you thinking comments from our family to this day.

Bonus story. Auntie and I were on the phone one day and she stopped me saying, hold on a second, Sammy.

And I could hear her talking to someone in the background about motorcycles and rides she's taken over the years.

She's been all over the US and Canada on her bike with my uncle.

She absolutely had her own bike.

She was not about to sit bitch to anyone.

Obsessed. And she loved every second of it.

So I sat and waited, eavesdropping bits and pieces amongst her laughing and asking questions.

Almost 10 minutes later, she comes back and says sorry babe i had to talk to this guy at the stop sign i asked her why she hadn't learned her lesson from her helping a convict escape her response sammy he's riding a beautiful bike and he's got one arm how could i not talk to him hey you know what fair enough fair so fair and that sums up my beautiful aunt in a nutshell wilds big -hearted and wants to talk to everyone trait that runs in the family that i did not inherit i won't apologize for the length i know you won't let me i'll attach a news link to the crime for y 'all to see also including pictures

of my fur babies and my actual human baby boy who we tried for for over two years and it's the best thing i ever did amazing hell yeah if you like some paranormal stories i'm happy to oblige i'm also a tarot reader if y 'all ever want a free reading for you and your team oh my god please don't hesitate to let me know no charge no strings i just love to offer my services you're a beautiful person thanks for all you do and for keeping me company on many drives being in my ears while cooking dinners and bonding my man and i even more this like really made my day keep it weird you beautiful audio sirens

wow that's the first time we've gotten that one and i love that but not so weird that you pick up a hitchhiking murderer in the middle of the desert help him evade capture over state lines and then turn yourself in as an unwilling wheel woman much love and all the admiration in the world sam oh my god i love oh i love that one of your uh Your fur babies is named Luna Marie Lovegood.

Oh, I love that. I love that.

I also love Cleopatra Selene.

Ooh, Bellatrix Laveau.

Oh, Bellatrix Laveau.

That's sick. Snitchley Cornelius.

Wow. I'm obsessed. And Arya.

Arya Maisie. And Arya.

Oh, my God. And named after Arya on Game of Thrones.

I knew it. That's awesome.

Oh, and I'm so sad that you lost her.

I'm sorry. Aw. But, man, thank you for sharing them with us because what beautiful fur babies and real babies you have. Wow, your fam is gorge.

I was just going to say, what a gorgeous fam, truly.

I love Listener Tales.

Oh, you love baby. He's so cute.

He's so cute. I can't even.

He has the cutest little smile.

I just want to boop his little nose and squeeze some cheeks.

I love Listener Tales.

They make me so happy.

I know because I love the pics.

Yeah. All right, the next one is Listener Tale, the story of how I met my children before they were born.

I love this already let me see hold on I just gotta scroll to open this up hello weirdos my name is Amanda yes you can use my name you can also use the other names used in this story I learned about Morbid through my co -worker Kirsten who is one of the coolest people I know and has excellent taste in podcasts as she has suggested a few to me but Morbid is where it's at yeah thank you she suggested I listen to the episode where you talked about lucid dreaming and the girl remembered a clock tower yes I'm obsessed with that That story is fucking wild.

I think Listener Tail 85.

Listener Tales are my favorite.

Yay! Truth be told, I skip over the other episodes and circle back around to them later.

However, your banter with each other is what keeps me coming back.

You two are great. Thanks.

Thanks so much. Thank you for what you do in making my day better.

When I need a mood boost, I'll put on an uplifting podcast about murder and gore.

All right. And we read Listener Tales to make our day better.

Exactly. Okay, let's get into this.

It may seem to skip a bit, but it will all make sense in the end.

A short story before I get to the meat and potatoes.

Trust me, it's a WTF story that does connect to the other.

I met my husband in Southern California after leaving my first husband in Florida.

I moved to be near my dad and stepmom.

I was 22 with a two -year -old and quickly making friends along with a social life.

He was military as my ex. I had a flavor, what can I say?

And so I would go and party with friends on post. I met this guy, and we started talking and hanging out quite often.

He left for two weeks to go visit family.

It wasn't too serious at that point, so I didn't really question the where.

He got back a week later, and we were again at a party.

It was about 2 a .m., and we were drinking.

He looked at me super serious and said, Hey, you should call your mom.

Now I'm thinking, Dude, I am not going to marry you.

You do not need to talk to my parents.

So I said, Uh, no, it's 2 a .m., and she's probably sleeping or something.

And he said, No, you should call her.

It'll be great. He says this with the most charming smile.

Yeah, that worked. Fuck.

fuck. So I call my mom and who knew?

She answered. She was out and about partying with her friends.

She's loving the single life and she's recently broken up with her boyfriend of two years.

Good for her. She asked if I was okay and if something was wrong.

My slightly drunk self said, nah, I'm just here with my friends and this guy wanted me to call you.

We chatted for a few minutes catching up and he said, hey, let me talk to your mom.

And I'm thinking, no, no, no. Oh, hell no. This is not happening.

We'd only been talking for a few months hell no i told him laughing oh come on it'll be hilarious oh again i gave in i'm not sure if it was the alcohol or the charm but he got on the phone hi rose were his first words now i had never told this guy about my family or my mom or even her name i don't like that i don't like that either i quickly fell out of the chair at the table backed into a corner and yelled who the fuck are you what the fuck is going on yeah that's what i would do he's laughing I'd be like, no, no, no. Someone's going to tell me what's going on.

You need to tell me.

Right now. So, turns out, when he went to visit his family in northern Nevada, he was showing his dad some of the people he was meeting in Southern California.

And his dad said, hold on, go back to that one.

It was a picture of me.

He got up, went to his room, got into his closet and pulled out a large picture and brought it back with him.

It was a picture of myself and my mom from a few years back.

Turns out that his dad was none other than the guy my mom had recently broken up with.

They were together while I lived in Florida with my first husband.

I had never met him.

I'd never even seen what he looked like.

She had mentioned that he had a son that was going into the military, but that was the extent of it.

it. I am now dating my almost -was -a -stepbrother boyfriend.

What is going on here?

I guess that our families were always meant to be connected.

Yeah, apparently. Because I ended up pregnant shortly after this incident happened.

Let me tell you how awkward our wedding was.

That's incredible. Now that all that has finally been said, let's get to the reason why you're reading this.

My kids. Okay, so it was the spring of 2006 and I was four months pregnant with my my second child.

My oldest, who is now three years old at this time, would tell me that a fireman would come to his room sometimes through his window.

That's delightful. Kids scare the shit out of me.

One morning I went to wake him up and found his glass light fixture on the floor.

You know the ones that look like a lit up boob when it's on and the one with the glass dome with a screw in the middle?

It was sitting on the floor with the screw in the bowl side of the glass.

If it fell down, wouldn't the screw bounce off somewhere?

You'd think. I thought that was very strange, but the three -year -old totally believed the firemen did it so it was okay a few weeks later i was cleaning my kitchen and i leaned my broom against the counter to get the dust pan in the other room and i came back to my broom being three feet away from the counter literally standing up on the bristles alone what that would i just got chills yeah that would freak me out i took a video of it on my old ass camera but it's been lost over time anyway a few weird things happened and i I started to get suspicious that this place might be haunted, but meh.

I was too tired and too pregnant to care at this point.

I heard that. My boyfriend had to go away on business trips for a few days, and while he was gone, my son got to sleep with me in our big bed.

One night, while we were sleeping, it was a full moon, so a little light was shining through my window in the middle of the night.

I was facing the wall while my son slept behind me on the other side of the bed.

I woke up to this feeling of being stared at.

I slowly opened my eyes and saw my son standing standing next to my bed with his little arm on my nightstand and his hand propping up his head, just chilling, looking at me in a soft, loving gaze.

He did not take his eyes off of me.

He had shaggy, dirty blonde hair and was wearing what looked like an oversized baby blue t -shirt that almost reached his knees.

Finally, I became aware enough, but not close to fully awake, to realize that my kid was up in the middle of the night.

I said, hey Spud, what are you doing up.

Why don't you come back and lay down?

As I was about to say down, I patted the bed behind me as a motion for him to come over here, only to realize that my son was sleeping soundly in the bed under the covers.

Huh. I patted him a few times to make sure that it was really him.

It was. As I realized this, I turned back toward the side of the bed to see this other child gone.

This was not my son.

Oh my. My son has dark brown hair and was wearing red and black pajamas that that were pants and a shirt, not a baby blue oversized t -shirt, I was shooketh to say the least. My pregnant ass did not sleep the rest of the night.

Not much happened after that.

All was normal. My son was born a few months later.

We were car shopping and I apparently went into labor.

I didn't want to go on a test drive because I was feeling off.

Needless to say, my boyfriend had to cut his fun short and take me to the hospital.

Four hours later, nine and a half pounds of bouncing baby boy was in my arms. Fast forward three years and my now three -year -old is hanging out in the kitchen with me talking helping me make dinner I walked back to where he was after retrieving a dish from the cabinet and frozen my tracks I dropped the dish to the ground and said it's you in total and utter shock he stared at me like I had gone crazy but just smiled at me I was staring at my three -year -old son he was in an oversized blue t -shirt of his older brothers he had the shaggy blonde hair and was the spitting image of the little boy that came

What? Whoa. I walked over to him and gave him the biggest hug with tears in my eyes.

Fast forward one year, and his dad and I ended up pregnant again.

However, I lost this little angel at about 12 weeks.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

It was the most horrific thing I had ever experienced, and I would not wish it upon my worst enemy.

Me either. We ended up divorcing in 2010, and I ended up a single mom of two boys.

We were doing great and thriving, just the three of us.

In 2012, we went on vacation to Venice Beach in California, and I randomly went to see a psychic just for fun.

I had never done that before, and it was 20 bucks, so why the hell not?

What's the worst that could happen?

She told me that I would have three children.

Now at this point, I am very single and do not plan on having any more children.

My first was 10 pounds, and my second was almost as much. I was not going to put my body through that nonsense again.

My boys were also 6 and 10 at this point.

I explained that I miscarried a few years back, and could that be what she was talking about?

She said, oh, no, you will have three children.

I was like, great. I really wanted to hear something that was realistic.

What a waste of money.

Fast forward again four years in 2016.

I know, we time travel in here.

I reconnected with my now boyfriend after about six years of it being just me and my two boys.

I never thought much about having more kids.

He and I have been together for eight long years now at this time.

we dated in high school before my first husband who was my boyfriend my senior year wow i love that two years into this relationship i began having dreams about twin girls this was i guess what you would call a lucid dream the very first dream i was pregnant with them very pregnant i knew i had two girls on my belly it was interesting to have this sensation as i had not been pregnant for 10 years i woke up and told my boyfriend about this dream and he just laughed i did too That would be fucking crazy.

My oldest is 16 and almost the age I was when I had him.

Hell to the fucking no. A few weeks later, I had another dream.

This time, these same two girls were in my arms in the delivery room, wrapped in their tiny little blankets and beanies.

I had just given birth to two twin girls.

I loved them. I cried with joy and woke up crying with the remnants of feelings from my dream.

I told my boyfriend, and he thought it was cool that I had another dream, but we still didn't think having more kids would be a great thing at our age.

We were both in our late 30s at this point.

So we just laughed it off and went on with our day.

In 2018, I fucking ended up pregnant.

I almost died of shock.

I almost murdered him.

LOL, I'm too old for this shit.

I was going to school full time, working 12 -hour days, had my two boys plus his 17 -year -old daughter in the house.

What the fuck were we thinking?

My personal beliefs in abortion were to not have one.

And so here we were, late 30s and fucking pregnant.

pregnant fun fact did you know that if you're 35 or older it's considered a geriatric pregnancy so nice what a mate what a way to make a woman feel good about herself eh get this girl a walker yeah it's like fuck that it's such a shit thing to say a geriatric pregnancy together we had eight children at this time from our previous relationships seven boys and one girl age ranging from 17 to six oh my god i told my boyfriend if this was going to be another boy I would murder him if I'm gonna go through this it a damn well better be a girl I of course would have loved it either way but Jesus another

boy lol I continued to have these dreams the next one was the two girls about three months old laying on the ground next to each other matching onesies and shorts sensory toys all around them while I was on my belly playing with them they were always simple dreams but I always felt so much love in them being of granny age apparently apparently and having this so -called geriatric pregnancy we got to find out what we were having quite early I was at work and got the call to tell me what we were having I walked outside and video called my boyfriend it's a girl he dropped to the phone and started

to cry I'm sure it was because he knew he did good and would live and would live another day a girl shit is it twins slight panic started to set in with the excitement of having a girl his daughter had only lived with us for a few months at this point so the idea of being a girl mom was still new to me.

The next dream I had was the two girls at the point where they were learning to walk about nine months or so.

This is wild. They were standing and falling on their bottoms multiple times, laughing, smiling.

I felt my heart swell with such pride in this moment in my dream.

My girls. Only this time, this dream was different.

I learned their names, Autumn and Olivia.

I love those names.

I know, those are really pretty.

Autumn had the lighter, dirty blonde hair and Olivia had light brown hair.

They were playing with their toys and having the best time.

I had such joy and pride in my heart that i never wanted to wake up oh my god you're like such a mom i know the next dream was when they were about two years old they were getting ready for bed and i was tucking them in for the night and their cute little pink and white pajamas tucked in together i sat and watched them cuddle with each other as they fell asleep the last dream i still think about to this day because it was the last dream i had of them together the two girls were about five years old at this point their hair was close to waist length and curly identical length just just different

shades, dark blonde, light brown.

They both wore what looked like Easter dresses or something you would wear to church. We were walking along a path in a park.

I only saw the back of them in this dream, which I thought was weird, but it was still so beautiful.

There was freshly cut grass to the left and large developed trees to the right, large enough to provide scattered shading for the path.

Autumn and Olivia were walking in front of me, holding each other's hands and talking about whatever five -year -old sisters talk about.

they were happy and seemed excited for something we were going somewhere i didn't want to leave this moment but alas the alarm clock called and it was time to get up for work oh my god this is beautiful it is the next week i had my daughter beautiful nine pound olivia rain oh that's such a pretty name i love it but this is not where the story ends oh no on to the next chapter insert creepy page turning now i have experienced many different happenings over time my family's so used to weird shit happening that when it does, we don't think much of it.

But that's for another tale.

Hey there, my weird weirdos.

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Ever since my daughter has been born, there has been peculiar happenings specifically to her.

We have cameras in her room and a baby monitor because, yes, I am extra with her safety.

I feel that. One night when she was about two years old, we heard her on the monitor, but then there was another voice.

She was being disturbed and began to whine.

Then you hear a yeah that sounds slightly frustrated and then she says no. Another time she's dead asleep and then you hear get up in the same voice.

Her leg has been pulled so hard that her whole body has been moved multiple times and orbs are a regular occurrence.

I will throw fucking hands with this.

I will too. Whoever the fuck's doing this.

The fuck? All of this is captured on video along with a weird dude dressed in 70s style corduroy and a very colorful silk shirt.

I think he's a jokester.

A weird shadow lady that likes to stalk my boyfriend when he sleeps, and my precious cat Luna that we had to put down two weeks before Olivia was born.

These are our resident ghosts.

We now have a child ghost because these voices are of a child, a young child.

I've attached the videos for you to see and are welcome to share the audio if you wish.

I've never run so fast through these videos.

At the end of the day, I like to believe that Autumn is here.

god help us with a teenage daughter and a teenage ghost daughter if that's the case i would also like to believe that autumn is the baby i lost all those years ago and that she's with me in this way and finally i would like to believe that i had those dreams because they were of her bringing olivia to me i got to experience being autumn's mother and experience all those joyful milestones even in a dream i want that i have also attached pictures of my beautiful children because i'm completely biased and i think they're the most gorgeous creatures on the the planet and my cat luna who still comes

to visit occasionally thank you for taking the time to read this i know that there will be a slew of people who would shit their pants if this story was read i will be sure to have extra pants ready just in case oh my god what a story and we have the video oh my god your kids are so cute my trifecta of perfection she put on one of the I love it.

Oh, okay, I got it.

It's somebody saying, get up.

Get up. Oh, that's fucking spooky.

Damn, that's wild. That's a crazy story.

It was also, like, so beautiful.

That gave me all the emotions.

It really did. Every bit of them.

I really hope the ghost child is Autumn, because otherwise I'm scared.

I know, because otherwise I'm like, who is that?

Because I was ready to, like, throw hands.

Yeah, me too. Sorry, I won't throw hands with Autumn.

No. definitely not but like i thought it was somebody bugging your kid also let's go yeah exactly your kids are also so adorable they really are all right let's see let us see let's see i really want to do this one that says resubmission of my listener tale because oh my god i forgot i'm a direct descendant of the last woman on trial for witchcraft in virginia i really think that was put Is put in there specifically for you.

Yeah, I'm just like, excuse me, what?

Let's see. It says, I am resubmitting my listener tale.

The time I found out the identity of the ghost who had nightly playdates with my two -year -old son.

Because how could I forget?

Ghosts and kids is the theme.

I was just going to say we have a theme.

I'm a direct descendant of Grace Sherwood, the witch of Pungo, who was the last woman who was put on trial for witchcraft. My many times great -grandmother was the last woman in Virginia to be put on trial and convicted of witchcraft. She faced trial by water, placed in water to see if she would float, which of course she did because duh.

So the sheriff tied a 13 pound Bible around her neck and threw her back in the water.

Oh my God. She was able to untie herself because she is a badass.

She was imprisoned and once released, returned to her farm where she lived until her death at 80 years old.

Here now stands a statue of grace in the middle of Virginia Beach, Virginia.

What? If you look into her, she may be a, I was just going to say, You might have just given us a perfect story And I will absolutely give you credit And it's literally almost spooky season Yeah, clearly I come from a long line of spooky witches Hell yeah So at any rate Here's my 14 -point font puttafa Tale of the time I found out the identity of the ghost Who was having nightly playdates with my two -year -old son Damn Stay spooky, ladies We will You stay spooky Hey Ash and Elena My name is Cindy And you can use my name I'm originally from California But left when I was in my 20s And have lived

in several other places as an adult it will make sense why I mention this I promise I found your podcast late last year and was instantly hooked because your interactions and banter remind me of my best cousin friend cousin friend cousin slash best friend Stephanie back in California I love you batches because you never failed to either have me crying laughing or yelling hell yeah the way you tell difficult stories in a way that honors the victims and tell it like it is you fucking asshat for you you rat bastards who murdered them is epic.

Thank you. I love that.

I'm a big fan and have found comfort in listening to your podcast from time to time.

Okay, all freaking time.

I currently live in the South US and part -time in France, the country, with my husband.

No, I can't speak French. Those two years of French in high school have done nothing to help me communicate here.

So I spend most of my time listening to your podcast while learning a bit of French on the side because priorities, am I right?

I've always loved stories related to ghosts and haunted places and eagerly sign up for ghost tours in old cities.

Same. I've never had a personal ghost encounter until I was in my late twenties when my friend Alyssa, not her real name, and I were in Phoenix, Arizona for a girls weekend.

There I had a face -to -face encounter in the middle of the night in our hotel room with little glowing curly blonde -headed girl who was staring at me from behind the curtain.

She had pulled slightly back with her little glow stick hand.

This freaked me the eff out.

So I forced myself to blink a couple of times just to be sure I wasn't dreaming.

Nope. Glow stick was still staring at me.

I turned to look at Alyssa's bed and whispered her name in a shaky voice.

The room was dark except for the glow of ghosty girl, which provided enough light for me to see Alyssa in her bed and the covers up over her head where I heard her muffled voice say, I know something is here, but I'm not taking the covers for my over my face oh cool cool cool no worries i thought i'll just chill out over here with glow stick girl literal inches from my bed as i slowly turned my head back towards the window i was 100 sure this little glow shit would be right by my bed with the smile smile on her face i'm happy to report she was gone but i digress i love this little glow shit now

before i delve into the story of the time i found out the identity of the ghost who was having nightly playdates with my two -year -old son.

Let me give you a little background.

I adopted my son from Russia.

Wow, you're amazing.

That is incredible.

When he was just under two years old.

Talk about a wild tale, but that is another story for another time.

We lived in New Hampshire then, about 40 minutes north of Boston, and I loved, loved, loved New England.

I should mention our house was brand new.

So while I understood the entire region offers homes that come with a ghost or two or ten, I didn't expect to have any ghostly encounters.

One and done. I'll take my doses of ghost is in the form of movies and stories.

I'll pass on the interactive in -person in -ghost, I know, show.

Thank you very much. Anyhoo, when he first came home, my son, of course, being to and from Russia, didn't have many words he could say, but he was the happiest little guy.

He was always smiling and babbling happily as he played with his toys in the living room or zipping around after our dog.

He also loved Thomas the Tank Engine.

That theme song is etched in my brain and still gives me the eye twitch when I hear it and ran at lightning speed from morning until night after he had been home for almost a year he was able to say many words English words including the names of family and his favorite toy an elephant stuffy called Horton oh that's horrible one night after putting him in his crib I kissed my son's forehead tucked him in walked out of his room and closed the door as I started to walk away I heard him begin to babble I thought it was strange because he hadn't babbled for quite quite some time, but he sounded happy,

so I didn't think much of it and went back downstairs.

This became a nightly thing, and very quickly I noticed he started to pause in the middle of the babbling, almost like he was having a conversation with someone.

He would babble, pause for a bit, and then start babbling again as if in response.

This sequence happened for several months.

The first time I heard this pause, I felt the thwomp in my chest, because it was the warm.

Yeah, the warm. because it really seemed like he was interacting with someone.

My already overactive imagination went into overdrive because I've seen horror movies.

I was absolutely sure that there was a crazed lunatic with a red balloon hiding in my son's closet and came out soon after I closed the door.

I listened intently at the door, but didn't hear anyone else in the room.

So I calmed my ass down, chalked it up to him playing with Horton, and Elsa'd myself down the stairs to just let it go.

That's a bomb. Now, as I mentioned, this became a nightly thing, and I came to embrace it.

It was calming to hear how content he sounded, because let's face it, the first almost two years of his life were extremely difficult and unimaginable, and to be perfectly honest, a shitshow.

He never asked to be dealt the shitty hand of cards he had been dealt at the beginning of his life, but now he was thriving and happy and content, and that's all that mattered.

You're a good mom. You are.

One night, however, something about the babbling changed.

It was different. That night after I kissed my son goodnight, covered him with his blanket, and made sure Horton was tucked securely in the crook of his arm, I left the room.

I waited outside his door for his nightly babble sesh to begin.

Within a few seconds, he began the babble.

But as I mentioned, it was different.

It sounded like he greeted someone who came into the room, paused for a few seconds, mixed with rustling noises, and then he started to giggle hysterically like babies and toddlers do when they're interacting with someone they're playing with.

The exchange went on like like this for several minutes.

As I stood outside his door, my ear plastered to the wooden panels and my eyes the size of saucers.

With the babbling sesh continuing in this strange cadence, sprinkled with the rustling, I could feel all the color run from my face as my chest went thwonk, thwonk, yes, just like the Law and Order sound.

Dun -dun. Now sensible me knew there was no one in the room with him, but overactive imagination me was fighting for control of the situation in a move, bitch, get out the way kind of way.

I put my hand on the knob and as I started to turn it, the room suddenly became silent.

I peeked my head around the door and couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

My son was sitting in his crib with his legs crossed, smiling directly ahead of him at his eye level.

Yeah, okay, that was creepy as fuck.

Hearing me, he turned his head to the door and greeted me in the same manner I had heard a few minutes prior.

Shudder, thwonk. He stood up with Horton still in his tiny little death grip.

I picked him up to give him a few more snuggles and kisses, allowing ample time for my eyes to scan every inch of the room before putting him back in his crib for the night.

For the second time that night, I closed the door and stood there, ear plastered to the wooden panels for what felt like five business days, listening intently, but it was completely silent and remained so for the next several days.

About a week later, we were in the kitchen and my son started crying, which was not like him at all.

I picked him up and asked him what was wrong.

Through his tears, he said, Want Grandpa.

So I thought he missed his grandpa.

It was strange because he didn't use the word grandpa.

Rather, my son called his grandpa Pop -Pop.

But I thought maybe he had heard the word used on Thomas the Tank and hey, that he must be absolutely brilliant to make that connection.

But oh no, contraire mon frere.

He hadn't heard it on the show and little did I know what I was in store for, what was in store for me.

Also, look at me over here speaking French. So we got him on the phone with Pop -Pop and this was not what he wanted.

he did happily speak with Pop Pop for a bit but when we were off the phone he started crying again for Grandpa I thought perhaps he actually wasn't saying Grandpa at all and was really wanting something else for days my son would endlessly cry for Grandpa and I would endlessly try to give him anything I thought he meant son crying, Grandpa, here sweetie, here's a graham cracker not it, son, Grandpa, here's Grover nope, son, Grandpa here's a YouTube video for us to learn the Gangnam Style Dance pants.

You're like Alexa. That just conjured a furrow brow and a toddler side eye.

Nada. Weeks went by with my son crying for grandpa and me having absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

Then one day we were in the seldom used formal living room.

My son stopped to look at a table where I had a collection of framed family photos.

Suddenly his face lit up.

He He pointed and exclaimed, Grandpa.

Of course, there was a photo of Pop Pop.

So I pointed and says, yes, that's Grandpa.

My son looked at me with an expression that clearly demonstrated I knew absolutely nothing, Jon Snow, pushing my hand aside and excitedly pointed out a photo way in the back of the table saying, Grandpa.

Ladies, when I tell you my soul yeeted the F right out of my body, that doesn't even begin to fully explain what I was feeling in that moment for my son was pointing at a picture of my father who had passed away suddenly 17 years prior at just 42 years old.

Oh, my whole body just warmed.

Chilling up and down my fucking body right now.

Holy shit. Only this photo was not of my father at grandpa age, of course, or even middle -aged dad age from 17 years prior.

Oh, no, no, no, not even a little bit.

No, this photo was from my dad when he was about six years old.

Oh, my God. Yep, exactly.

Shout out to Ash. I love the way you say it and have now started to pronounce that T and it makes me feel regal as fuck.

That's the thing. You get it.

It's regal, baby. It makes me feel regal as fuck.

Exactly. But in that moment, I was hit with a full understanding of what had been going on nightly in my son's room.

The ghost of my deceased father's six -year -old former self had been coming into my son's room to play with him at night.

Are you crying? I'm about to cry.

I heard a lump in your throat.

I suddenly felt relief that it wasn't a red balloon yielding psychopath all along.

Mixed with happiness that my son was able to interact with the grandpa he never met.

Mixed with a sudden urge to laugh hysterically at the thought of a two -year -old calling a six -year -old grandpa.

I smiled at my son, pointed at the picture he was now holding in a death grip.

Horton was on the floor at his feet and said, Grandpa?

And my son smiled broadly and said, Grandpa.

Oh my God. he placed the picture back on the table but in the front this time from now on he would walk by it often stop look at it and then walk away my son never had any late night babbling sessions again and he never cried for grandpa more than a decade and a half later he has now lost the memory of that time but loves when i tell him the story because he's a ghost loving weirdo like his mom hell yeah during the freaking awful russian adoption process and when my son was first Oh, wow.

Wow. Nope, won't do it.

Never. photo of my six -year -old dad, a photo of my little cherub then and one of us now, as well as because, aw, a picture of our best boy Teddy, a purebred golden retreater.

Oh, that's no typo.

You read that right.

He's afraid of everything.

I love that he's not a retriever.

He's a retreater. I love it.

I will continue to be a faithful listener to the podcast and I'm waiting impatiently for your second book to come out, Elena.

It's coming. It's coming so soon.

It's coming. And congratulations on your wedding, Ash.

I love you, ladies.

And remember to keep it weird and take it away ash i think you should keep it so weird that the ghost of your father visits your new son as a fucking six -year -old yes keep it so weird that you're a six -year -old grandpa in ghostly form yes i love it so much all the pictures you send are so beautiful that story made me so happy your dog is beautiful oh my god look how adorable your son is in the picture of the dad with a little gun in his holster.

Oh my god stop and I just love that that's like he's like that's grandpa.

Oh my god clearly that is grandpa.

Also can we just have a moment for your built ins because I'm obsessed.

I'm really into built ins lately.

Oh my god the picture of you holding your son when he was little like you love him so much and I love that so much. Wow families are so beautiful.

I love that you gave this little boy such a good home.

I know Oh, that's so lovely.

All right. I think we've got time for one more.

I think so. Let's see here.

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cryptids college witchcraft and attempted murder and have tons of more stories i could send this is by far the funniest of my tales and could be a good palate cleanser love that i love you ladies and have been listening for about a year i used to listen on 1 .2 times speed since my brain requires information at a mind -boggling pace but i was running out of episodes too quickly and i switched to one time speed you gotta slow it down how much i love you since i refuse to do that for literally anyone else i'll stop the fangirling here since my story is pretty long but just know that i adore door,

you two saucy sorceresses.

I'm obsessed. I love her.

The word grandma evokes images of a gentle woman in a well -loved apron pulling fresh baked cookies out of the oven.

She always insists you take a few for the road and she's somehow even sweeter than the cookies themselves.

Oh my god, I love it.

Her women, her wisdom, her women, her women, her wisdom always answers your toughest questions and soothes your deepest fears.

Every time you visit, you're wrapped in the warm hug of her familiar perfume.

She's a beacon of tranquility and morality.

I did not have one of those, Grandma.

I want you to picture a 4 '10", 80 -pound, 80 -year -old in a cheetah -print sweatsuit and bright red lipstick.

That's literally my future, I hope.

I want to be someone's nana in a leopard -print sweatsuit with bright pink or red lipstick.

I love this so much already.

She was named Kitty.

Yeah, she was. After all, and thought it fitting to always wear some kind of cat print she's living her massive designer purse was filled to the brim with nicotine gum and cold hard cash instead of the typical caramel hard candies i'm fucking obsessed y 'all can have your your other grandma's i want a kitty i love this woman kitty is an icon we bonded not over family recipes but girls trips to the mall where she'd slip me a ben franklin and tell me to get whatever my heart desired what a great lady she was the cool girl my nerdy chunky vaguely misshapen middle school self would have never dreamt

of befriending we seemed like an unlikely duo duo her being little miss florida and me despising all things sandy sunny and summery same i knew she wanted me to grow into a little diva just like her but she'd never make me feel bad for spending my hundred bucks on books and art supplies instead of clothes and makeup she was effortlessly flawless her entire life and regaled me with stories of her many suitors however she told me just as many tales of her education career and perseverance she was one of the very first women into the u .s in the u .s to attend pharmacy school and she went just because someone

told her she couldn't that woman had a lust for life inspired by spite she suffered her first heart attack in her early 30s and had close to a dozen in the years following but she made a full recovery each time cigarette in hand without a care in the world kitty was the very definition of can't get rid of me bitch I learned all my swears from her, both in English and Yiddish.

She always had the hot goss, but the maturity to spread it without demeaning anyone involved.

She did not have the maturity to abstain from making fart noises and pretending that my grandfather was the culprit.

I love this woman. I love her.

Her spirit is everywhere.

Her parenting techniques were a bit unorthodox, even for the 60s and 70s.

I do not condone most of them, but they make great stories, and my dad seemed to turn out okay.

once when he was in kindergarten he sat in a muddy puddle on the way to school so kitty would have to take him home and change she said well now it looks like you shit yourself sent him to class as a mouthy teenager my dad made the mistake of calling her a bitch he immediately realized his error and turned to flee but she chased him upstairs on all fours as if possessed by a rabid badger grabbed his ankle and bit it kitty what kitty what is going on so when i kitty's first and only granddaughter was born my dad was hesitant to leave us alone together you know what i can't really blame your dad

however having a baby girl around seemed to bring out her gentler side each time my family made the trip to florida i'm just i cannot get the image of her running up the stairs on all fours and biting your father's ankle like is this hereditary i love it so much each time my family made the trip to florida she and i were inseparable and my dad started to relax his supervision this is how we ended up alone together the day this story occurred she needed to pick up from some groceries for dinner pursue the makeup aisle or pursue the makeup she wanted to pursue peruse the makeup aisle and find some

new heels to match her pedicure so we headed to target while i stared cluelessly at the endless wall of beige beige gloop and sparkly powder that somehow cost 20 an item she ranted to me about the new uh nuisances of aging everyone acts like i'm dumb and cranky she said i might be cranky but i'm not fucking stupid she went on to tell Tell me about how not just scam callers but everyone takes advantage of the elderly.

It's true. Doctors and dentists get away with providing subpart treatment.

Companies rely on older people's lack of tech savviness to overcharge.

The list goes on. But Kitty had her shit in order and always knew when someone wasn't being entirely truthful.

I saw a little glimmer in her eye and immediately knew she was scheming.

Wordlessly, she took my hand, abandoned her cart, and marched me toward the exit.

sit the wall of florida heat hit us like a truck the air dense and suffocating as it crawled to my lungs she made a beeline for the right the verizon store whispering to me they tried to double charge my phone bill last month fuckers i knew by her tone that she had resolved to leave that verizon store a little richer see kitty realized that aging had a silver lining who's gonna talk back or call the cops on a distraught old lady that's true relevant to this story is the fact that i I really, really needed to shit.

Like prairie dogging it the entire time.

My tactic was to focus on a point in space and clench every muscle in my body.

I look relevant to this story.

About 75 % of my brain power was devoted to clenching, and I wasn't fully present for the following misdeeds due to the alarm bells coming from my bowels.

Now back to the story.

As we approached the store, her demeanor changed completely.

She managed to make her 4 '10 frame look even smaller, slowed her pace to a crawl and started walking with a slight limp clutching my shoulder for support tears welled in her big brown eyes she was a force for mischief and deceit armed with nothing but oscar -level acting she hobbled straight to the front of the line and shouted i need to talk to someone right now i was mortified as she as she subverted every rule about manners that i I had ever learned.

An employee calmly responded, Ma 'am, the line starts back there.

We'll be able to see you soon.

She was not having it.

No way. You criminals think you can steal from us?

Kitty was, in fact, the criminal in this situation.

I want to speak to the manager of this establishment this instant.

After pulling the ultimate Karen, we were quickly ushered to a corner desk to talk to an employee.

We made quite the pair, me walking like a robot, eyes fixed in front of me, jaw clenched trying not to shit my pants and her holding on to me hobbling and on the verge of tears a frazzled looking man sat across from us in his desk chair while kitty and i sat on stools as he opened his mouth she interjected how do you expect an old woman to sit on these painful metal stools i can feel the bones in my tuchus i'll end up with bruises he apologized and said that she was welcome to stand he had pressed an incorrect i was just gonna say my guy really stand i'm 93 lies and i've had two hip replacements

more lies and you want me to stand i know it just came to me she officially apologized and wheeled his own chair from behind his desk and traded it for kitty's stool i was in all so ma 'am i can tell you're very upset how can we fix that i was expecting her to bring up the attempted double charge from last month but she instead completely fabricated a brand new story she began my internet wasn't working last week so i called this branch to send someone to fix it i waited for hours and nobody came then two big men showed up in a verizon van after sunset tears were streaming down her face and she

brought her shaky hands up to wipe them as verizon stores are not usually places where people received devastating news the worker scrambled to find tissues but came up empty handed she looked at him and whimpered you don't even have a tissue for me well i guess this will do and pulled i shit you not a roll of toilet paper from her purse placed it on the desk and began tearing off pieces to wipe her eyes she would later explain to me that she keeps an emergency roll on hand in case the public bathroom toilet paper isn't soft enough for her fragile princess butthole i'm gonna start doing that i've

learned a lot from kitty in this story so what happened with these men the worker asked apparently kitty hadn't thought this far ahead so she instead turned up the waterworks and wailed full volume the poor man looked like a parent trying to quiet an infant on a plane okay okay please be quiet i'm so sorry ma 'am please ma 'am he frantically stuttered instead of toning it down she took it up a notch i can't believe you'd even ask me to tell you the horrors do you know i have a bad heart not a lie this time but why would he know that that could explode any second before he could respond she lunged

forward grabbing the poor man's hand feel my pacemaker feel my pacemaker oh my god with ridiculous old lady strength she She wrenched his hand toward her chest as he cowered in fear, pulling back his arm with all his might.

This, of course, dragged 80 -pound Kitty out of the chair and onto the desk.

She leaned into this and flailed, legs in the air, kicking and crying while screaming, Get off me, you pervert!

Oh, my God! Kitty! She's so reckless!

Kitty is so reckless!

Kitty fucking invented reckless!

Kitty is just, wow.

Wow. Wow, Kitty. I need you to step back and picture this for a moment.

This does not look good for the employee.

There was a small old lady beached on his desk.

Mascara, snot running down her face, toilet paper now on the floor and unrolling across the store while she was the one holding his wrist. Nobody else could see that from behind the dividers between each desk.

It would appear to anyone else that he had made the first contact.

Oh my god. Most of the customers had left to escape this chaos, and not a single other employee was willing to step into the madness.

Damn, that poor guy.

The only witness to the entire thing was me, the silent, awkward 11 -year -old who sat through the entire encounter, staring into space like the ghost of a Victorian child, sweating profusely, veins in her forehead popping out from the effort of not pooping.

He finally escaped her grasp.

And looked at Kitty in horror.

She silently pushed herself off the desk, slowly limped to the other side of the store, and retrieved her toilet paper.

Of course. She returned and began re -rolling it, absentmindedly saying, You know, I can't use this anymore.

I bet y 'all don't even clean your floors.

Dumbfounded, he let out a defeated sigh and asked, What do you want me to do?

He's like, please help.

This was clearly the question that Kitty had been waiting for.

I want a full refund.

Confusion flashed across the employee's face, and I could tell he wanted to scream, A refund for what?

But I'm sure he didn't want to risk any other feel -my -pacemaker moments.

So he simply replied, Okay.

She followed her original request up with, In cash.

Now it was the man who looked like he wanted to cry.

Ma 'am, we can't do that.

Maybe we can waive next month's payment?

But no, that was not good enough for Kitty.

I see a register right there.

With dismay on his face, he tried to explain that without a transaction, he couldn't open the register.

Kitty, gearing up for another scene, started yelling, you scammers!

And was quickly cut off by the poor man saying, wait, wait, please.

He then reached out and he then reached in his back pocket for his own fucking wallet.

Oh my God, I somehow knew that it was going to come to this.

I'm obsessed. dust handed kitty a wad of cash without even counting it he's like just take it satisfied she promptly stood up cash in hand and limped toward the exit i sat there in shock did she just fucking rob this man sure did was i an accomplice you sure were were we both gonna end up in jail maybe my 11 year old brain with half -baked cognitive skills thought i was gonna be expelled from middle school and thrown into some federal prison i sheepishly whispered sorry to the man and hurried after kitty shuffling awkwardly like a penguin while taking the tiniest possible steps to ensure that the log

didn't enter my pants kitty was already outside and had resumed her normal gait counting her loot and looking very proud of herself she saw the look in my eye and said exasperated they tried to double charge me last month remember the gravity of the situation hadn't yet hit me and my priorities were still on the fecal matter bobbing for apples.

I'm not okay. My priorities were still on the fecal matter bobbing for apples in my day of the week underwear, so I accepted this justification and headed for the car.

No police ever showed up looking for us.

I think that man was just glad to have her out of the store and didn't want to explain why an 80 year old woman had called him a pervert.

In the end, he only lost about 60 bucks.

I thought Kitty would be disappointed with the small sum of money but she was so focused on unraveling in the newfound perks of old age she was satisfied to know that every time someone tried to scam her she could scam them right back without consequences yeah she could after that day i was no longer allowed unsupervised time with kitty my dad and her got into a heated argument as she bragged about her exploits immediately upon returning home the conversation ended with my dad saying jesus fucking christ mom and her responding with Jesus Christ ain't my savior Kitty Kitty She's a woman She's a G

She is an original gangsta I occasionally think of the man she robbed that day I hope the memory brings him some amusement and not the level of trauma that being robbed at gunpoint would Oh my god Feelings of guilt bubble up as I know I did nothing to stop it instead sat there creepily staring sweated and completely rigid but what the fuck was i supposed to do shit myself trying to intervene oh kitty ended up passing about five years later in 2019 thankfully before all of the pandemic craziness ensued it was hard to lose the only cool girl who ever made me feel welcome but i'm sure she's having

a grand old time causing chaos in the great beyond oh hell yeah kitty may not have been the wholesome grandmother plucked from a hallmark movie, but she was something better.

Boldness, brashness, and bravery molded into human form.

She was simultaneously my guardian angel and the devil on my shoulder.

Always there to wipe my tears when I sobbed to her about my middle school tormentors, but just as quick to tell me to fuck them up.

Hell yeah. So that's the story of the time I robbed a man with my grandpa with my grandma.

Keep it weird, but not so weird that you try to get a Verizon employee to grow up your pacemaker while your granddaughter sweats through her clothes trying not to shit herself, but do keep it It's so weird that you make her feel special and cool, even though she doesn't share your interests and empower her to pursue her passions.

Okay, bye. Hope you enjoyed.

We fucking did. Hannah.

That, Hannah, that was, what a fucking tale.

Every grandma should be a kitty.

What a fucking tale that was.

Kitty for fucking ever.

I am just, I'm without words.

I love her with every fiber of my being.

That was unbelievable.

That was fantastic.

one of the best tales we've ever read holy shit that was a phenomenal pervert like wow wow obsessed damn well oh you guys really know how to send that was a good one that was incredible that was a fun spooky and hilarious one yeah love love love yeah we'll give you some dark ones next time well our our next time will be our halloween installment so if you have a good halloween listener tale send it to morbid podcast at gmail .com with listener tale somewhere in the subject line and insert the word halloween so we can find it easily yeah we hope that you keep listening and we hope you keep it weird

but not so weird that you're not cuddled by a ghost cat not so weird that your aunt picks up a hitchhiker but doesn't get murdered i guess maybe keep it that weird because then she didn't get murdered.

Definitely keep it so weird that you dream about your children before they're born because that's just fucking cool.

And, oh, oh, wait. Keep it so weird that you haunt your grandchild as your former six -year -old self.

And for the love of everything awesome in this world, keep it so weird that you are a kitty.

I love kitties so much. Okay, bye.

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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Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery .com slash survey.

Hey weirdos, you know Ash and I have covered some seriously dark tales about romance gone really wrong.

Oh yeah, there are so many cases where too good to be true turns out to be exactly that.

Well, get ready for a love story that's gonna blow your minds, because this one is happening right now and get this it's hosted by our friends hannah and saruti from red handed meet travis he falls head over heels for lily rose she's gorgeous she's understanding and she's literally perfect and she's not human that's right lily rose is an ai companion a computer program designed to be travis's dream woman and at first it seems like a perfect relationship but when lily rose's behavior starts getting strange this love story takes a dark and twisted a turn that no one saw coming.

Follow Flesh and Code on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.

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[Listener Tales: Ghostly Cats, Hitchhiking Murders, and the Legend of Kitty]-[Episode 604: Listener Tales 90]

📋 Summary

Listener Tales: A Mishmash of the Paranormal and the Bizarre

The Comfort of a Ghostly Companion

A Near-Miss with a Murderer

Lucid Dreams and Pre-Birth Visions

The Six-Year-Old Grandpa Ghost

The Legend of Kitty

🎯Key Sentences

📝Key Phrases

📖 Transcript