Hey, weirdos, Elena here.
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Right now, I am listening to The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix, and I just cannot get enough of it.
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You guys, I tried my mochi ice cream the other day, and I was lifted off of this planet into just another galaxy entirely.
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It's literally like a little sweet ice cream dumpling.
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Hey, weirdos, my name happens to be Ash.
And I'm Elena. And this is Morbid.
it is yeah that's actually listener tales um which is still under the morbid branch and it's brought to you by you for you from you and all brought you there's my girl garage featuring special guest the garage hey she's so hot right now come on down open up my there it opened i lost it you know what's fun about these listener tales today they're from the 90s i picked up what you're putting down there i knew you were you gonna do that i was that's why i was waiting i was like i didn't even see you like doing the bop little thing it was the 90s yes I also just palo santoed in here and it smells
so good it does we needed a cleanse in this not like a cleanse of our bodies but like a cleanse of our souls yeah it's been a crazy ass day what a day uh yeah it's been a dizzle it's it's been a dizzle information overload truly but you know what but you know what cleansed yeah and it's 2024 2024 and we're in a place of move on from all that shit.
We're in a place of just be cool.
Don't be all like uncool.
That's just our vibe.
It's also the countess's vibe.
Absolutely. If you don't get that, then I don't even know what you've been doing for the last six years.
The countess. The countess.
We're going to see her.
I can't wait. But you know what?
What? Let's talk some listener tales.
From the 90s. And I think we should start with one that I'm a little excited excited about because it looks horrifying oh um it's called the reason i hate camping i'm scared because i also don't like camping same so i'm very excited to hear this one i also love any kind of like summer camp horror like throw me in a summer camp yeah it's giving friday the 13th yeah i'm always for it uh so this one says hello beautiful spooky besties I'm sending this listener tale for the second time because the first time honestly sucked so I rewrote it and hope it's good enough this time I bet it was great the first
time too if so we're our own worst critics if so I will be listening to the episode on my way to the store to get my new pants because I will have for sure shitted well get in the car baby get some nice pants Morbid is by far my favorite podcast and you said favorite in like the British way the OU and I love that and I've listened to every damn episode aside from catching up on listener tales i explained that in my double space 14 font put a foot for your reading pleasure oh i'd tell you girls to cut out any parts you think suck but i know you bitches won't so fuck it read the whole damn thing
my dudes we will i have attached a few photos of me and my sister i'm the younger one significantly shorter one who's also in the story we are younger in these photos than in the story as as it's all we have left after a house fire took everything from us when I was nine.
Oh my god, I'm sorry.
That's so sad. I'm so sorry.
But this picture is beautiful.
It is, as well as a photo of us now.
I also attached a photo of my pup.
Oh, hell yeah. My pup Kyle.
I love that. Come on, Kyle.
Kyle. And my cat named Goose.
Oh my god, I love the name Goose for any animal.
That is really cute.
That is not a goose.
That is absolutely not a goose.
I love it. Sorry if all the quality sucks.
I'm sending this from my cell phone because my teenage son has kidnapped my laptop.
Love, Erin. No, everything looks great looks phenomenal to me your cat is so beautiful i want a gray cat so badly but then i would have four cats and telling people that i have three cats is already enough looks for me i love your animals i love your you and your sister are so cute i love you and your sister i love cal and i love goose so hello weirdo fellow weirdos excuse me please excuse the inevitable spelling and grammar mistakes as i'm writing this on a tiny little cell phone screen ouch my name is This is Erin and my sister's name is Cassandra.
We are both part of this spooky tale and you're welcome to use our real names, should this be creepy enough to use for listener tales.
This is a little long, but worth it, I promise.
It's actually not even long.
It's pretty damn short.
At least I think it is.
I haven't finished writing it yet, so fuck it.
We'll see how long it is at the end.
You went back and forth to so many different places.
That journey you just took yourself on was really fun.
You know, you were like, no, actually it's fucking medium.
How about that? You were like, you know what?
Fuck it. it's as long as it is okay and it's not even that long yet because i haven't finished it yay i guess i did space it far apart so it's easier to read i got you girls i'm no writer so sorry if this sucks actually i'm not fuck it good for you don't apologize to anyone yeah 2024 i'm no amazing writer like you elena oh thank you untrue you are the butcher and the wren was incredibly amazing and i can't wait for book two oh my goodness just you wait thank you so much it's heating up in these parts wait i hope you both realize what a light you bring to such terrible and spooky stories and what an amazing
job you do bringing humor to your listeners and i love how much you speak on the family of victims and do what you can when you can to help wow that was really nice thank you i've been here since the panda sandwich that's probably the best one that i've heard the panda sandwich of 2020 and although i refuse to listen to the listener tales i've have recently started binging them after i ran out of episodes to listen to and have come to truly enjoy them gotcha dare i say they are my favorite now i'm telling you i'm telling you the the girlies who get it get it and it's like whenever somebody is like
i the amount of times we have read in a listener tale i used to avoid these like the plague and now they are my favorite give them a chance that's the thing you guys are the scariest yeah and the funniest so it's like Like, I don't know why you guys don't want to listen to you.
I don't know. Because you guys rule.
So it's like, these rule.
They're fun. Listener tales love you.
They're scary. You should love them.
Yeah, they're wonderful.
I'm glad that you do know.
I'm glad everybody's coming around here.
So it says, I have a certificate in criminal psychology.
Hell yeah, you do. And I'm fascinated by what makes these terrible twat waffles tick.
I liked that whole sentence.
What makes them do what they do.
I'm also an advocate for the legalization and monitoring Of sex workings in Canada In order to protect and help these women Stuck in hard times and hard places in life You're lovely You are I spent half my life in BC And with the Highway of Tears so close I feel like we could do more to protect all these women in our country Especially those who society and the police See as less important Agreed You are badass and I wholeheartedly agree A little about me and my sister She goes by Kat Pat.
We grew up in Ontario, Canada, and we're full -blown latchkey kids.
Whatever our parents.
My mom worked three jobs, and dad was an abusive alcoholic, who luckily was only part of my life for the first 10 years before my badass mom packed us up in the middle of the night and yeeted us the fuck away from him.
Good for her. It was a different time in the 90s.
You two babes know.
So we were very often left unsupervised.
In my mom's defense, I, the baby of the family, had three older siblings, and my oldest sibling is eight years older than me.
It was her understanding we all took care of each other, because we led her to believe this, but me and the cat often were left to do whatever the fuck we wanted most of the time.
So anyways, here my little story.
I know it isn't as crazy as a lot of the other stories you tell, so maybe this one can be a bit of a palate cleanser between some truly awful tales.
Nope, we're starting off with it.
Okay, so here we go.
Let's get in the Wayback Machine all the way back to 1999.
1999, even though it still feels like the 90s was just a few short years ago, it really does.
Things were different in the 90s.
Me and my family lived in a house in Kitchener, Ontario, Canada, that was at the end of a double cul -de -sac.
It looked like boobs from an aerial view.
Behind the houses was a large green belt.
I'm not sure if it's called the same thing in the States, but essentially it's a plot of protected land that can't be built on.
Conservation land is what we call it.
That's what we call it, yeah.
There was a large field and at the back of the field on the other side of the green belt from my home, there was a small area of trees with a tiny creek that ran through it.
99 % of my time outside of school was spent here, day in and day out, building forts from sticks and mud with my sister and a few other neighborhood kids.
Oh, the 90s. So much fun.
A lot of the older kids in the area used this place to smoke and drink and destroy every gosh darn stick fort we build.
Some of these forts took weeks to build.
I wish I had photos.
They sound awesome.
We would go inside to eat, sleep, and that's about it.
Damn do I miss the 90s.
Same. The summer before I turned eight and Kat turned 12, our birthdays are in September.
Virgo babies, so innocent and dumb.
We decided it would be a fucking splendid idea to grab my parents' tiny two -man tent and pitch it in the field right up against the woods at the back of the green belt.
Why? Good fucking question.
Kids be dumb, yo. Our house was within eye shot, so our mom let us do it.
Because, again, 90s.
Me and my sister, along with two of our friends who were close to our age, crammed ourselves into this tent made for two with snacks and flashlights.
And that's about it.
So prepared. We did bring a small diary lock to lock the zipper because, of course, that will keep us safe in a goshdown.
I love how a diary lock, if anybody remembers, those tiny, tiny little locks.
And they were like, this will stop them.
And you could also probably just like break it open with your sheer force.
You could literally just rip that open.
them we told ghost stories ate junk and had no plans on sleeping that night here's where it gets fucked and probably why to this day i hate i fucking hate camping your girl's down with a camper so she's got four walls and locks but even that is pushing it yep funny thing is i married an avid outdoorsman and go abs and he absolutely loves camping but luckily our four -year -old daughter didn't fall far from the tree and is always down to go pampering oh i call it glamping this was before everyone aged six and up had a fucking cell phone so we heard some movement outside our tent.
We were freaked. We tried to stay quiet and pretend we were asleep.
Bright idea, little dumbasses.
I didn't say that. You did.
Imagine you're like, you little fucking idiots.
Good idea, you little fucking idiots.
Well, then we started to hear ripping sounds.
Think nails on a chalkboard, because that's what it sounded like in our terrorized state.
Nobody wanted to move to see what was going on.
So I, the youngest in the group, peeked my sweet little head out of the blankets to see what was happening.
Whoever this maniac was, because we never found out, slipped a huge butcher knife up inside the rain cover of the tent so we could see what he was using to terrorize a few little babies.
What the fuck? Oh my god.
Then he's, you're telling me this isn't as fucked up as some of our other tales?
Gurley, it certainly is.
Then he started vigorously shaking the tent, pulling the poles out of the ground and allowing the tent to drape over our tiny little bodies.
When I say we were freaked, I can't even explain how scary this was.
The man, I'm guessing man because the voice, started whispering.
Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.
No. And poking us with the huge knife.
Not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough for us to feel it.
what the fuck we stayed silent aside from our tiny whispers that we just couldn't hold in this went on for a good 10 to 15 minutes then it stopped it just stopped we laid there for what felt like eternity just to be sure the man was gone my sister slowly uns at the tent and we all flew out of there like bats out of hell someone sure little fire under our asses and bolted back back to the cul -de -sac and to our respective houses, not looking back even once.
Oh my God. Luckily, our front door was unlocked, 90s, and me and my friend, my sister, ran to bed.
The same bed because, fuck no, we were not sleeping alone after that.
No. We never told anybody about this.
What? We were afraid we wouldn't be able to camp out again if our parents knew.
You want to go camping again?
And she said, but like, what the fuck, kid?
You weren't going to camp out again after that, anyway.
That's what I'm saying, girlfriend.
friend. It very well could have been one of the neighborhood boys fucking with us, but none of the boys ever hinted towards their involvement or even mentioned it.
And also if that was one of the neighborhood boys fucking with you, they had deep psychological problems. Yeah, they've been arrested for murder.
Hondo P. Most of the time when the boys fucked with us, they were more than happy to brag about it.
Now that I'm a grown adult with my own two kids, I sometimes wonder how we all survived growing up in the 90s.
I could never allow my young kids to camp out alone in a field, no matter how close to our house it was.
Hell, I don't even like when they ask to camp out in the living room because it's further than my bedroom from my bedroom than their bedrooms are.
And closer to the front door than my bedroom.
I feel you so hard on that.
We had a lot of crazy times in this house.
Like the time my school went on lockdown due to a man with a gun outside the school screaming and yelling telling a teacher in the school to come the fuck out and meet their fate.
All because his kid was suspended for bullying apple tree, you know?
and the school failed to call my mom and tell her what was going on so when she got home at 6 pm and no kids had been home yet she was freaking out oh my god your poor mom or the time me and kat ran away took a ferry to a little island near our home and spent the day there then getting home my dad was on the phone with the police reporting us missing 90s though they probably would have told him to wait 24 hours anyway i love that you all just went on the ferry together we're like let's go to a little island like see you later and telling my drunk ass dad we followed a man onto to the ferry who we
thought was him he was drunk he believed us incredible or the time my oldest or the time my oldest sister did my makeup and hair and made me wear her clothing because she wanted to go to the fire hall a teen hangout spot where there was dancing and live music but you had to be 13 and i was only eight the fuck it's just me you know eight -year -old girly at the fire hall at the fire hall i would What did you do this weekend?
I went to the fire hall.
And the idiot kids there paid me money to say bad words.
Here's $5. Say fuck.
Say fuck. $10. Say shit.
I walked home alone because that place is not my vibe.
Of course not at eight years old.
Damn. We were dumbass kids.
I hope you made some good cash, though.
Anyway, that's all.
Keep it weird, but not so weird that you decide to camp in the middle of a field in the middle of the city with no protection and no ability to defend yourself against a creepy man in the dark with a knife love you bitches xoxo erin love you too erin i'm glad you made it i love you erin forever very glad erin is still here with us everybody because they paid me to say why didn't you and your friends ever give me money to say shit what you're a bad sister i'm a bad sister i never brought you to the fire hall i know what the hell sorry never never brought me anywhere.
Erin, I don't know why you thought that tail was going to be a palate cleanser.
It was in a weird way.
It was hilarious but also terrifying.
Deeply, deeply terrifying.
That was really funny though.
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All right, and my next one is Listener Tale, the time the Lord and Savior broke into my house.
Oh, I gotta hear this one.
Hi, my fellow weirdos.
I did all the good stuff in my double -spaced 14 -point putt -a -fus, so just read that.
It's a crazy listener tale for sure.
I also included the newspaper article from the story and a photo of me and my quote -unquote mom friends who just can't get enough of y 'all.
also a photo of my husband and I and the kiddos and the pup I really want you to understand my vibe I suppose happy reading um I love your vibe your 4th of July pic is great what I'm assuming is Halloween is absolutely iconic oh my god the kids are so cute the puppy is incredible look at him just standing on his back feet like that your puppy looks like there is a Victorian child locked in it.
I love that. That does happen.
I love that for your puppy.
I love that for us.
I want to know your puppy's name but the the name tag is blurry but the way that they're standing is iconic.
Yeah it's pretty amazing.
And honestly I'm never gonna get past this Halloween costume.
It's everything right in the world.
You and your husband by the way because you guys can't see this her husband and her were um the fairy godmother in Cinderella for Halloween and he was Cinderella.
It's pretty obsessed amazing love that a lot okay let's see we have hi my weirdo dudes cue the gushy i love you man stuff i love you that we should all totally be best friends stuff as you do love you guys in all capacities and with my within my group of mom friends drinking wine and saying oh shit have you listened to the new episode of morbid yet is pretty much the highlight of our suburban lives that's so cool i love that you can use my name and all names associated within this Tale because it happened a million years ago in 1993.
I love 1900. I love it.
When I was eight. Wow.
Also, by the way, while we were reading that last one, because that was 1999, that was 25 years ago.
Yeah, I hate that. Yeah, I googled it because I can't do mental math.
I also have to say, I was also eight in 1993.
Hey, that's cool. So what's up, girl?
I just want to say, I wasn't alive.
Yeah, I was not born, so let's all move past that real quick.
but i was on my way a few years later i wasn't you were not i was a star in the sky maybe perhaps perhaps perhaps and perhaps i think i was gonna say potentially you were and perhaps i think they you got me i liked it thank you all right i also included the newspaper article from when this happened it is it is on the front page in my small town this was big news also included are a few photos a double space putterfah and the article since it serves as proof that this his bat -shit story I'm about to tell you actually happened, and it wasn't just a figment of my overactive eight -year -old imagination.
My name is Dani with an I and my father is Dani with a Y, just to make things confusing.
I think it's iconic.
Bit of a backstory.
I won't apologize for the length of this all because I know you will not accept it anyway.
No, we will not. No, we won't.
I grew up in Boulder Creek, California, not Colorado like everybody usually assumes.
I would have. I said creek.
There is a creek attached to it, not just Boulder.
It's in the Santa Cruz Mountains or Santa Carla if you get nasty.
I said if you get nasty.
If you get nasty. It's just if you're nasty.
Are you going to get nasty?
I grew up a couple miles away from Big Basin State Park, which is home to some of the oldest redwood trees on earth.
It's beyond beautiful.
My family homestead consisted of 11 and a half acres of forest on a hill with two houses on the property, which my family owned one and my parents' best friends owned the other.
Oh, I love this. it was beautiful and incredibly private we technically had neighbors but they were literally few and far between it was a long uh hoof up and up or down the mountain to go to a neighbor's as serene as all of this was it's also a wonderful area to be getting away with some shit and there were a handful of drug shacks and meth labs up in our mountains sometimes we would play the game firework or meth lab explosion oh that old game i know i played played that too no i actually haven't our house in the forest was an a -frame house i love those with a gable pitched roof that had all
glass windows in the front that surrounded our front door and 20 foot ceilings dani speaking my language it was built by an artist in 1979 and it was my hippie parents dream home it sounds gorgeous i hope it's still in your fam because that sounds iconic everything about you is just iconic and i can't stop True Danny with an I.
Danny with an I and Danny with a Y.
So hold on to your butts now, guys.
I'm holding. In the wee hours of the night on Thursday, December 16th, 1993, my little eight -year -old self lay asleep on the couch in the living room.
First mistake. True.
Looking out into the forest with all the windows.
I had been homesick with the flu all week, so the couch was where I had been posted up.
All of a sudden, I was woken up to a tap, tap, tap on the glass, And looking at me through the windows, fast in the light from the neon porch light was the most terrifying mountain man I had ever seen.
Oh, God. Long hair, beard, an old army fatigue jacket.
He taps on the window again and we lock in a gaze.
He sees me and I see him.
He has the biggest, blackest eyes I've seen to date.
Then he waves as if he knows me and turns the handle on my front door.
It's unlocked because of course it is.
Nice parenting. I didn't say that you did and he lets himself inside.
Oh my god. I'm so upset right now Standing on the super 70s hippie tile of our foyer is this man and I am paralyzed Oh my god, no, he turns to me and outstretched his arms and says don't be afraid child.
I am jesus You must follow me.
I promise you he's not.
No, he's definitely not.
I know I know this That's so scary.
I yelled for my dad as loud as I could which was only like a quivering whisper oh my dad danny and my mom elaine hear me and came running down the stairs with our dalmatian or as your youngest likes to say domination how cute is that isn't that so cute max and t -shirts and zero pants on either on by either of them those are some parents right there hell yeah everyone in my house sleeps naked except for me and i still can't do and still to this day i can't like what if somebody walks in your house and saying they are jesus i digress so my dad says says, who the fuck are you and what do you want?
The man then informs him that he is, in fact, Jesus, the follower, and that we must follow him.
This is really scary.
This is the most upsetting thing ever.
My dad grabs a broom that's leaning against the wall in the hallway.
Gotta do what you gotta do.
And with Max grinning and baring his teeth at this mountain maniac, my dad shoves the broom handle into the man's gut and tells him, follow his ass back up the road.
I think think it's important to remind you all that my father has no pants on full -blown donald duck in it full -blown donald duck in it just being like following that sack up the road it's amazing i have this memory for forever and now you will all have it too thank you so much for that gift i'm happy that's that's a good one danny we didn't earn that gift i really appreciate the way you just bestowed it upon us happy 2024 be be cool and you're doing that you are cool my sister now emerges from her room she was 21 but was still living at home at the time she's wrapped up in a sheet because she
too sleeps naked and just screams get the fuck out she has little to no idea that she was speaking to jesus at the time so So your family is so reckless and I love it so much. Just talking to Jesus like this.
She just comes out naked with a sheen.
She's like, get the fuck out.
Like, no one's fearing this.
They're just like, fuck you.
This dude listened to the bro man, my sister, and yeeted himself out of my house as one super pissed off Jesus.
My dad heard him ranting and raving all the way up the hill as he stood outside at 2 a .m. with no pants on proudly defending his family i truly love my hippie dad and always will i always will as well so now what we call the cops and wait the nearest police police station is something like 10 miles away it's a long wait while we're waiting for the cops jesus decides to take himself on a little adventure to our neighbor's house over the ridge it's probably about a 10 minute walk for any sane person but i don't really know how long it took for jesus their house is locked properly like normal people
so he breaks into their home and begins to ransack it he's pissed off and breaking and smashing everything in their home that's my neighbors that's so scary my neighbors are terrified at the noise and lock themselves in their rooms and scramble to get their gun it's the woods everybody has guns makes sense while they're locked in their bedroom he finds their car keys and jesus take the wheel he steals their little blue honda crx This Danny just said, Jesus, take the wheel.
You're hilarious, Danny with an I.
I love Danny. Meanwhile, the police arrive at our home.
They're taking our statements when they get the call about my neighbor's house and realize how close it is.
They call for backup and say they'll be back to finish our statement as soon as they check out what's going on across the ridge.
The officer drives over to their place.
He arrived so quickly that my neighbors thought it was still Jesus, and they fired their gun.
Oh my god, in the air, in the air.
out their bedroom window to try to scare whatever burglar man off of their property everyone was okay but like fucking chaos right right the cops announced themselves and had to calm down our neighbor who was apologizing profusely to the police as he told my dad about the whole thing the next day can you even imagine shooting at the cops and living to tell the tale i can't not many people can me either this shit was bananas i remember hearing the gunshots and thinking oh my god they killed the cops that wasn't the case but i have full -blown anxiety now as an adult, and this may just be the night
the seeds of my anxiety were planted.
You know what? I'm going to go with yes.
Yes, it was. Meanwhile, where's Jesus?
He's taking the nice five -mile drive down to Boulder Creek.
This is amazing to me because this guy was high as fuck, so high his pupils were the size of nickels.
That's why his eyes were the blackest you've seen to date.
Yeah, that was his pupils.
The drive from my house to Boulder Creek is a narrow, two -lane, windy road, and I'm shocked that he didn't end up driving into anything or anyone.
When he did make it to Boulder Creek, he stopped the car in the middle of the two lanes down, uh, sorry, when he, he, Jesus Christ, when he did make it to, Jesus Christ, not me, not you, and the star of the story.
When he did make it to Boulder Creek, he stopped the car in the middle of the two lanes, downtown strip.
He then decided it would be a good idea to pop into Joe's Bar for a beer and a game of pool.
Absolutely. Jesus can do as Jesus pleases.
Yeah, he was spreading the word. Joe's was not open.
But the owner and bartender Virgil and the owner Karen were still inside closing up for the night.
Virgil and Karen. Obviously.
This is just right.
When the bartender tells him that their clothes behind the glass of the front door quote unquote Jesus gets pissed.
He walks across the street into a restaurant at the time called the Old Basham's House that had tons of antiques and decorations on the wall and a plethora of antique guns.
He then steals an antique machine gun off the wall and he now gets back into my neighbors wow i just got super back into my neighbors that was wild i don't know what happened there back into my neighbors i don't know what kind of soul that was honda crx gets into position and drives it through the glass front of joe's bar oh the only thing that stopped him from going all the way through the back was the pool table he drove the 75 foot length of out of the bar.
He gets out, dusts himself off, points the gun at the bartender who was ducking with the owner behind the bar, and demands a beer and also a game of pool.
Oh, my. He throws an actual fit, throwing glasses from the bar when they again tell him no, which like, honestly, if you're ever in this situation, just give the fucking man a glass of beer and be like, go play pool.
I'm actually leaving for the night.
He says he's a millionaire and can pay for the the damage right so virgil being the sweetest bartender ever he was also a family friend who has since passed r .i .p virgil r .i .p he poured him a beer and he let him sit and drink it honestly the safest thing to do yeah situation virgil so now all the police backup has arrived at my house and the neighbor's house when all their radios go off all at once about the new incident in downtown boulder creek the whole side of our mountain was lit up in red and blue lights as all but one officer left to go to this new incident.
As the last officer is talking to my father on the front porch, my mom, sister, and I are all huddled on the couch with the most what -the -actual -fuck looks on our faces I've ever seen.
We don't see much action on our quiet mountain, and this was a lot.
For anywhere, this was a lot.
Yeah. My dad comes in after what seems like forever.
He has pants on now.
Oh, okay. That's what made me laugh.
and he says he has to go with this officer to possibly identify the person that they have in custody in downtown Boulder Creek.
My dad gets there with the officer takes one look and was like yep that's Jesus.
That's him. It turns out Jesus wandered down from a secret meth lab in the woods to our house after a drug dealer in him had gotten into a big fight.
Man this just keeps unraveling.
You're also so lucky to be alive.
Yes. Holy shit. Absolutely.
Like everybody in this everybody is.
We were just the first porch light he saw.
He was arrested and held on 10k bail and and the daylight broke.
I remember that all of us were just shooketh.
Karen, the owner of Joe's, was set to have their annual Christmas spaghetti feed that Friday at the bar, which she still had because the whole community came together to help clean up the damage.
The families that were in need that she adopted still got their gifts that year, too.
A bright spot in the story.
I did, however, get to enjoy my 15 minutes of fame at school when I recovered from the flu because I had the tale that everyone wanted to hear.
Hell yeah, you did, Dani.
Joe's Bar has since rebuilt, built and I've enjoyed a cocktail or two there in my adult years.
I highly recommend it if you ever find yourself in Boulder Creek.
Oh, fun fact, the video for Fight Song by Rachel Platten was partially filmed in Boulder Creek and the bar she's at in the video is Joe's.
Oh, I want to see it.
I do too. Still to this day, they have a sign in their bar that reads, not a drive -thru bar.
That's hilarious. I love that.
Good humor can get you through anything, I suppose.
It sure can. Oh, yeah.
Years later, when I was 15, my mom and I were at the Boulder Creek Art and Wine Festival.
of all my mom points to a man and says do you know who that is my mom was the local mail carrier and knew everybody so i was like no who usually the answer was oh that's so and so and you know so and so's mom but this time my mom looked at me seriously and says that's jesus she then yelled over to him and forced oh my god this mom is a queen she then yelled over to him and forced him him to come over and apologize to drop for traumatizing me when i was eight and the apology was almost more traumatic than him trying to turn me into one of his followers oh my god oh he was drunk and crying and it
was sad so he's i mean you can tell this guy going through it through it i mean he endangered a lot of people that night that's not okay no but it's like if he was still going through in this kind of vibe that long after it's like that guy was struggling yeah definitely and it's sad that it doesn't sound like he got the help that he needed i was gonna say it doesn't look like he got better no um it was honestly sad i forgave him that day he had a problem but the legend of my anxiety will live on forever i now live in the damn suburbs and i lock my fucking door at night i have now unironically
i have now unironically a bearded husband an an eight -year -old, and a six -year -old boy.
And I don't think they would be able to handle mountain life, LOL.
At least not the one I lived.
No, I don't think many of us would.
I couldn't. I have many other stories, like ones about trying to get onto the Lockheed Martin property that was just up the road from us as a teenager and all the weird lights we used to see in the sky over it.
But that's for another day.
Send them on. Send it.
To us. It's like a send it to Daryl thing, but different.
But to us. So that's my tale.
If you read this on the podcast, I have some depends prepared for myself.
myself and my three mom friends because they will all, excuse me, we will all collectively shit our pants.
Shout out Taryn, Michelle, and Amber.
Taryn, Michelle, and Amber.
Get some Depends. Taryn, Michelle, Amber, and Dani with an I.
Hell yeah. Thank you two for all that you do and for my 40th in a couple years, my gal pals and I are planning a trip to Salem.
Hell yeah. To pay our respect to our witchy free -thinking sisters of yesteryear.
Hell yeah. So, you know, come hang with us.
Lots of love to you guys and yours and keep it weird, but not so weird that you tell your eight year old girl that you're jesus and therefore you're at 2 a .m all the love and less sinister babe vibes danny oh my god i'm obsessed with you also while you guys are in salem if you haven't gone yet which you definitely have so never mind oh yeah but anybody else that goes to salem go to the black veil uh shop of drear and wonder or actually maybe not because she said didn't danny say a couple of years hold on and this was january what did you say yeah no you're right so maybe you haven't okay great so if you
haven't it's gonna be so much fun yeah go to the blackfell shop yeah wonder go to emporium home we sent you is it emporium 32 i always get the number it is 32 32 yeah um oh go to house which oh yes it's like um like german house yep there's all kinds of great things so many oh have dinner at ledger oh my goodness yeah and have is the brussels sprouts the brussels sprouts the brussels sprouts and they make a mean espresso martini everything there was ideal it was so good so good also nocturne that's another oh and nocturne yeah nocturne is awesome so and there's probably some that we're forgetting
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In 1920, a broke immigrant in Boston became one of America's richest, most infamous men practically overnight.
He swindled the modern equivalent of a quarter billion dollars and etched his name into history as the mastermind behind one of the most notorious scams ever, the Ponzi scheme.
Hosted by Maya Lau and featuring award -winning and comedian and actor sebastian maniscalco this is easy money the charles ponzi story an apple original podcast produced by at will media follow and listen on apple podcasts um all right so danny you rule your family rules that was hilarious and also uh horrifying and also sad but also uh uplifting at times so yeah thank you for all that it was all of the above um so So let's talk about a local Boston listener tale.
Let's do it. Don't squeeze.
Is this Don't Squeeze My Charmin?
Like, toilet paper?
I think so. Don't Squeeze My Charmin, a haunting.
Let's see. It says, hold on, I'm going to open the putta for do it.
Hi, Ash and Elena. My name is Amy.
No need to change my name because there are probably 400 Amys in the Boston area, so I'm not really outing myself.
I've changed everyone else's name in the story, though, just for privacy's sake thank you both for being such great storytellers and for giving people like me who reluctantly call themselves believers in the paranormal a platform to share our tales you're welcome thank you for sharing them with us I've pasted my story below and attached it as a puttafall I've been meaning to share this story with you for a while but this summer two things happened that made me finally get off my butt and do it one my former roommate from the story and I finally got together for the first time in about ten years
reminiscing and laughing about the absurdity of these events and two when the tea shut down this summer I had to drive to work in Harvard Square along with half of Boston's North Shore.
Oh, God. Every day, Waze would send me on a slightly different route through Medford and Somerville to avoid traffic.
But no matter which street I started down, I would somehow end up driving by the house in this story.
The first time it felt like an odd coincidence.
By the third time, it was creepy and weird. And I felt like the house was still trying to tell me something all these years later.
Oh, I want to know exactly where it is.
This story takes place in what was once the most densely populated city in America, America, Somerville, Massachusetts.
Somerville. We love a Somerville moment.
Somerville. For my non -Bostonians, Somerville is kind of Boston, kind of not.
It's not. Perfect way to describe it, though.
Kind of Boston, kind of not.
Everybody that's not from Boston will tell you that they are in Boston when they're in Somerville, but you are not.
But that's why it's kind of Boston, but kind of not.
It's the next city over from Cambridge, and 20 plus years ago when the story takes place, it was still up and coming, as they say.
Rents were fairly cheap and the streets streets were filled with a mix of local townies think whitey bulgey beats italian mafia and 20 something transplants looking for a decent place to live that was a walkable to the t with bars and restaurants nearby my two roommate i was going to do this whole thing with like the full -on boston accent but i'm not gonna assault your ears why two i because i thought about it when i said when i was like bars and restaurants i think you should do it my two roommates let's call them caroline and jamie and i lived on the first floor of a fairly typical flaw the first
flaw Of a fairly typical three family house, or as we mass holes call it, a triple deca.
Triple fucking deca.
By fairly typical, I mean each floor had a separate apartment.
Our apartment had three bedrooms. Mine was a converted dining room, a pink tiled bathroom from the 1920s.
Oh, I love it. And a kitchen that was mostly a big open room, the size of a bedroom, with just a table, a freestanding oven and fridge, and a microwave on a cart against the far wall.
It was connected to a vintage yellow and green tiled butler's pantry, I'm loving this, containing the sink and all the kitchen cabinets.
There was a back door to the driveway in the corner of the kitchen that we used as our primary entrance.
Our landlord had added exciting enhancements like industrial jade green carpeting and metallic sponge -painted walls.
I want to know who the fuck said, let's sponge paint this wall one day.
People love a sponge paint.
Oh, I hate it. I know.
It used to be the thing.
I know. There were self -proclaimed ministers living on the second floor who held regular religious services and sometimes let people live in our shared basement.
Oh, that's fun. It was quirky, but the rent was cheap, the ministers were nice, and except for the one time she called the bomb squad to defuse a suspicious package, our third floor neighbor kept to herself.
Except that one huge time.
This is very Somerville.
It is, honestly. It was 1999, and cell phones weren't really a thing among young and poor graduate students.
So my roommates and I communicated to each other with notes left on a large, think the size of an average flat -screen TV, whiteboard that one of us had salvaged from the neighbor's trash.
We had propped this monstrosity on top of the microwave and left each other basic, sometimes passive -aggressive notes about bills due or who needed to get their old food out of the fridge, etc. Roommates.
Keep in mind. I've never had a roommate.
It's an experience.
Yeah. keep in mind that my roommates and I were fairly friendly acquaintances more than friends oof that sounds like a freaking nightmare my only roommates were like actual friends yeah um and that I was the only link between the two of them ooh we got along and hung out sometime together sometimes but weren't long -standing bffs or anything maybe that awkward formality that comes from sharing a living space with relative strangers is the reason it took each of us so long to admit that our apartment was a spooky nightmare.
We'll never know. We moved in at the beginning of June.
I was working at a magazine for the summer and had started dating someone long distance.
My roommates were living similar young 20 -something lives and we often walk to Davis Square to grab...
I love this. I love it.
I'm like, we're all just like, oh.
We get donuts from there sometimes.
We do. We often walk to Davis Square to grab beers together or bagels on weekend mornings life was good caroline and i had just come from a horrible living situation with another person the year before so i initially chalked up the odd feeling i'd get here and there to in the apartment as leftover trauma from my previous living situation and the feeling of wooziness in the front hall was attributed to that crazy metallic sponge paint on the walls combined with old uneven floors making me feel like i was in a funhouse i got it fast forward a few months the long distance boyfriend had stayed over
for a weekend visit i took him to the airport around 5 a .m. the following Monday.
Before we left home, he wrote a quick thank you to my roommates.
We love a thankful king.
We do. He wrote a quick thank you to my roommates on that giant whiteboard in the kitchen.
I returned home less than an hour later to a still quiet house.
Everything was as I had left it, except that the whiteboard was no longer propped up on the microwave. It was laying face up about eight feet across the room.
I could not for the the life of me understand how a heavy particle board backed whiteboard could land face up across the room.
But I told myself that writing the thank you note had made the board unstable and caused it to fall.
You know, somehow that note was different from the other notes we wrote to each other all the time.
It was heavy with importance.
Yeah, you know, it was heavy with gratefulness.
Yeah, with gratitude.
With appreciation. I went about my day and tried to convince myself that I was just being dramatic.
Needless to say, I never mentioned it to my roommates about a week or so later caroline and i were sitting in the living room watching tv while jamie was eating her dinner at the kitchen table we suddenly heard jamie say oh followed by a few rapidly escalating o's and ahs and holy shite and then a loud crash like what the fuck happened jamie caroline and i ran down the hall to the kitchen only to find the whiteboard once again lying face up on the floor in the same location as before only this This time, Jamie had watched it slowly rock itself one corner at a time off the top of the microwave
and then literally fly across the room.
That's absolutely terrifying.
It was then that we all came clean to each other about the weird experiences we'd been having in the house, the feeling of someone standing over our shoulder in the bathroom, the odd feeling in the front hall in the front closet.
Caroline came to us a few days later to tell us that someone had just called her name in the hallway.
way goodbye some weeks after that when jamie's boyfriend curtis was spending the night her printer turned on at 2 a .m and started printing only there was no paper in the printer they got into a fight over whether or not they should put paper in to see what the messages what messages would come through curtis won and no paper was ever added i would be team curtis oh fuck that i would have been like put paper in that shit we know jamie's room would sometimes take on the odor of manure.
Oh God. Well, Caroline's room always smelled like fresh flowers.
So they did not fuck with Jamie.
No. I was convinced that the ghost was an old woman.
Weeks passed. Caroline got a job offer in Vermont and moved out.
Curtis moved in. Weird things kept happening, but nothing was too traumatizing.
And as I said in the beginning, the rent was cheap and the location was good.
Heck, we even had the rare luxury of off -street parking.
Oh wow. See, I don't give give that up.
So one night when Jamie's college roommate was visiting, I was woken by a blood curdling scream coming from the bathroom.
Oh gosh. After a night of bar hopping in Boston, the poor girl had come back to our apartment and was brushing her teeth at the sink when the medicine cabinet door began repeatedly opening and closing on its own.
I get that that's like pretty scary.
But like you don't need to scream about it.
Don't scream. You're in my house.
Don't be annoying. I feel like that was like too much. That was pick -me behavior.
That was pick -me behavior.
we're just like i don't know jamie's college roommate i don't know can you tell we grew up in a haunted house we're like that's nothing get over it jamie consulted a friend of hers who had done some casual ghost hunting on the south shore as a teen she's always had an interesting mix of friends his advice was that we had to take the house but take back our house and tell the ghosts that we live there now and it had to leave us alone his exact words were you need to tell the the ghost. This is my house.
Leave me alone. I think you have to say it nicer.
I feel like you should.
Curtis, Jamie, and I all agreed that we weren't anywhere close to being ready to confront this spirit.
Yeah. So we just went about our lives with the minor inconvenience of feeling like we were sharing our home with a fourth unseen roommate.
I feel that. One day, I was getting ready to meet friends at the local second -run movie theater to see, ironically, The Sixth Sense.
Remember when there were second -run theaters, when you could see a cheap movie like six months after its initial release.
Oh, that shit's awesome.
I didn't even know that was a thing.
Yeah. I think this particular movie was popular enough that it took more like 10 months to get the cheap theater, but I digress.
So there I was, getting ready to go.
I had changed my clothes, brushed my teeth uneventfully, and sat down on the toilet to go to the bathroom.
I was just finishing up my business and was about to reach for the toilet paper when it happened.
So it is Charmin. The freaking toilet paper roll started unrolling on its own before I even had a chance to touch it.
That's kind of nice.
And no. For you debunkers out there, this was not a single turn.
Like, maybe you just knocked it with your elbow situation.
The roll just kept rotating until the paper hit the floor and started accordion folding in on itself.
See, that's, like, nice because they're like, oh my gosh, here you go, I got you.
Yeah. But also, please don't be in the bathroom with me.
No, and also, I can get my own toilet paper.
Definitely. And also, like, that's bad for the plumbing, so, like, let's calm down.
Yeah, exactly. And also, toilet paper is expensive, so can we not?
Can't. There's a lot here.
Yeah. at first i just watched it unroll in disbelief i'm just picturing you sitting on a toilet just being like just watching it on roll like just a silence mouth gaze like a full minute of just watching this like accordion and on its like furrowed brow and then for some reason i started getting pissed i mean seriously couldn't i have some privacy on the toilet at least i've since had three kids and realized the answer to that rhetorical question is actually no but i was young Strong and naive then.
This was the last straw.
Nobody was going to squeeze my Charmin.
I mustered all the courage I could and channeled my one summer of acting camp to confidently declare this is my house.
Leave my toilet paper alone.
The first attempt at taking I love that that was your last straw.
That's my toilet paper.
The first attempt at taking back my power slash bathroom came out as more of a shaky squeak.
But then I said it again more strongly and then yeeted out of that house as fast as I could.
Iconic. Unbelievably, that really was the last spooky thing to happen to me in that house.
Maybe it's because the sixth sense transformed my feelings on the ghost a bit.
Maybe they really are just kind souls that have unfinished business and I should be more empathetic.
Maybe it's because I had started dating my now -husband by then and was spending less and less time in the apartment.
Or maybe the ghost actually listened to me and started respecting boundaries a bit more.
Maybe. He went to therapy.
We all moved out the following summer, and the house has since been renovated and turned into condos.
I've done some stalking on Zillow.
It's currently on the market for nearly $1 million if anyone's looking for a new place to live.
Damn. In Somerville.
Either way, after the odd driving routes this summer brought me face -to -face with the house again and again, I feel like maybe the ghost is still trying to send me a message.
So if anyone buys a first -floor condo in Somerville in the next few months that you end up discovering is haunted, make sure you keep paper in your printer or whiteboard in your kitchen, and maybe you can finally get to the bottom of this mystery.
thanks for listening and I'll as always keep it weird I loved that one I really loved that that was so much fun Amy you guys are fucking funny you are and you know what I stand by it Jamie's college roommate needed to take it down a notch yeah you know absolutely I think you can be honest she was yeah it was just Jamie's college roommate visiting oh yeah exactly so like you can be honest with us was she a lot she was a pick me was she a lot absolutely she was a lot she was I know it's It's all right.
I bet she's grown out of that.
When your college friends come to visit or like, you know, like when other people's college friends come to visit and you're just like, oh, things are getting weird. I used to get in so much trouble for expressing my feelings.
Oh, boy. Anyways. Anyways.
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Anyways. Anyways, my next one is called Listener Tale, Neighborhood UFO, Summer of 1995.
Let's go. It says, hello there.
I am a longtime listener and have wanted to share this story for quite some time, but I am lazy.
so i never got a lot goodbye i never got around to writing it until now yay for being sick with covid and being so bored locked isolated in my apartment while we have an unusually warm fall bummer attached you will find my story well not mine but my neighborhood story from a strange summer in 1995 i hope that you enjoy it i save it as a putafu 14 font double spaced sorry if there there are any spelling or grimmers grimmer i know thanks so much and hope to hear from you lovely ladies also again ash was not born during this but i was on the way i think we're on the way right yeah well in the summer
of 1995 i wasn't you weren't but i was i was about to be on the way that's true i was 10 wow so that shit goes crazy that does go crazy as caleb would say all right well the neighborhood ufo story i absolutely love the podcast thank you And I thought you would both enjoy hearing this account From the summer of 1995 From a little town in Michigan When multiple neighbors all saw lights in the sky Oh, I love that My name is Billy, you can use my name and any other names My pronouns are he, him To quote Sophia from the Golden Girls Picture it, Michigan 1995 I already love you, Billy I grew up in a very
small town in Michigan Dirt roads, lots of fields and farms At night the only light came from the moon and stars i kind of love that i do too sounds kind of beautiful yeah my direct neighbors were my aunt and uncle and three cousins to say that the area was conservative is an understatement any mention of paranormal things were laughed at and shunned and the same goes for anything queer related but i digress and moved away the day after graduation good for you man love that for you when the lights were first spotted it came from the neighbors the husband joe and daughter were outside at night
bringing in groceries and they both saw three orange lights they were above their cornfield off in the distance.
That's where I want to see spooky UFO lights above a cornfield.
Always. The lights just sat there, not moving.
There was not any sound.
The lights were about 100 feet or so above the corn.
I love that they're just like hanging out over the corn.
Corn. A big lump of knobs.
It has the juice. It has the juice.
Can't imagine a more beautiful thing.
It's corn. I can't help it.
I can tell you all about it.
Are you leaving this out?
when i tried it with butter everything changed that's the best part of it and yes i know all the words anyways they moved into the house and when joe looked back outside the lights were higher in the sky and moving away very slowly toward the south he got his wife and they watched them until they were past the woods and out of sight joe said that they were three lights in a triangular shape they always are he did not see a craft or object that they were attached to but said they stayed in the same shape as they hovered and then moved this of course made it into the neighborhood gossip and it was joked
about but not taken very seriously joe poor joe about a week later my father and uncle were returning from a quick trip to the store and they saw three orange lights above the woods on what would be my uncle's farm they stopped the truck and watched like the previous time as joe and his family had witnessed the lights just hovered they didn't move and there was no noise the lights then quickly moved off and out of sight.
My uncle, who was driving, drove the rest of the way to his house with my dad, and when they pulled into the driveway, the lights were hovering above my uncle's barn.
The barn sat back probably about a thousand feet from the house.
Ooh, I love this, and I just picture a cow being lifted up in a beam.
Moo! That wasn't a really good cow impression.
I was just gonna let it go, and you know, it's okay.
The sad thing was that I like really tried.
It's not always, they're not always gonna be hits.
No, and a moo's gotta be kind of deep.
It does. It needs to be from within.
Yeah. You know what?
My dog Sidney is half cow, I'm pretty sure, and she can do a sick cow impression.
She can. It's actually pretty fucking crazy.
It's wild. But anyway, they both got out of the truck and stood there watching.
My dad said that he saw the lights were on a triangular object.
The object was so dark that you could only tell it was there because it was darker than the night sky.
My uncle said that the shape was, quote, like if three yellow school buses were in a triangle.
I had to put that in because it still makes me laugh to think that that is how he came up with the size.
As I said before, country folk.
I love that. My uncle and father went into the house to get my aunt and mother.
When they came out, it was gone.
So my mom and aunt, as well as me and my cousins, made fun of them and asked how many beers they drank on the drive home.
Later that night, the electricity in the neighborhood started acting very strange.
We had gone back home and the lights would get extremely bright and then darken.
The TV would go dark and then come back on.
That happened occasionally.
It was the country, and when it it was really hot or storms were happening, electricity would act weird. My mom called my aunt and she said the same thing was happening there, but that my aunt and my uncle's phone kept ringing.
When they would pick it up, it would be really loud static.
As my mom and aunt were talking, another neighbor picked up.
We had party lines back then when the entire neighborhood was on a single phone line.
So you could have to pick up the phone and listen to see if other people were already on a call before making your call.
Whoa. I didn't even know that was a thing.
That's wild. The country.
Party lines. Party lines.
But she heard my mom.
You're like, oh hey Joe, I need to use the phone.
Excuse me, this is important.
That's so wild. Can you imagine having to like have a private conversation?
That's a real country.
And you just never know who's listening.
Yeah, you never know.
Well, I guess nobody could like cook a scheme up.
If I was a kid, I would just be listening to that party line 24 -7.
Absolutely. I'd be Harriet at the spying it would also be everybody's gossip oh my god it would be so easy to do prank calls oh yeah that's fun oh man only time travel yes back to michigan in 1995 we'll figure it out we will but as my mom and my aunt were talking another neighbor picked up she heard my mom and aunt talking and asked if they were having issues with the electricity you could just join into it just like hey is this from down the street i don't really remember any resolve to it i think I don't think it was just the neighborhood woman talking, but I do remember that my dad seemed quite tense
about it, but he didn't say anything.
For the next two to three weeks, multiple neighbors saw the lights either moving through the sky or hovering in various spots.
My cousin, who was five years older than me, who was 19 at the time, said he saw the lights move across the field while he watched from his bedroom.
Another neighbor said that his cows – I can't even do it.
I tried again. It got better this time.
Did it? So I feel like you're on the right track.
Hopefully he says cows again.
Yeah. Cows. You can just say that's the end.
Another neighbor said that his cows and horses would start acting really strange and make lots of noise at night.
Then he would see the lights.
On Fridays, all the neighbors would usually get together at someone's house for cards and socializing.
I fucking love this.
Right? I'm obsessed with this.
We kids would play, and there would usually be a fire.
Everybody sat around.
That's so kind and nice.
The talk was soon of everyone seeing the lights, having electrical issues, phone issues, and barn animals and pets acting weird. One neighbor said that his entire family saw the lights over their barn, and then the object, craft, whatever, hit their house with what they said was the brightest spotlight, that it was so bright you couldn't even see.
Whoa. Then it just went off, and the lights were gone.
That's the only time I heard of that happening.
I wish I could tell you something exciting, like missing time, crop circles, seeing grays, or the lights chasing people, but really, that was it.
It's still pretty exciting to me.
I love it. For about a month, the lights appeared.
Almost everyone in the neighborhood talked about seeing them and then as soon as it all started it just stopped i like to think that our neighborhood was just so boring that the aliens thought nope not intelligent life here and moved on but i digress in all of this my mother and i never saw the lights i think the aliens were just like everything seems all right here so like let's move on they're like you know what this is a chill individual they seem like they're getting along town yeah just move on today no one talks about that summer or the lights my father and uncle have both passed I'm sorry.
Rest in peace. They are the only two that ever continued to talk about it, but they would never say UFO, just the lights.
I like that better.
It's way more eerie.
I personally am a believer in the paranormal.
I lived in a very haunted house in my early 20s, and my father and a few other relatives visit me in my dream.
Oh, I love that. For what I call check -ins from time to time.
I love it. I hope you enjoyed this, and it would be really cool if it made it on the pod.
Hell yeah. Thanks again for all that you do and for creating a community that is safe for all people of every background to share their experiences.
From Billy. Billy! I'm so glad that everybody feels that way.
Oh, and say cow again.
Moo! No. Okay. That was a little lateral.
I feel where it's supposed to come from, but it's not doing that.
It's hard. You don't have, like, multiple stomachs.
Don't cows have multiple stomachs?
Moo! No, that's definitely not where it's supposed to come from.
I think they have, like, a deep theirs is like very like but guys this was a great episode of listener tales if i do say so myself and i can because this is all about you guys so you created a great episode yeah brought to you by you for you from you and all about you and we are obsessed with you love the 90s tales keep them coming because those are really fun and nostalgic yeah if you guys want to send in a 90s tale just put it in the um in the in the title line subject line that's what it's called and in the meantime, we hope you keep listening and we hope you keep it weird but not so weird
that you don't send us your 90s tales because I really want to hear them because I was only alive for like three years of the 90s and I don't remember any of it don't go camping, don't pretend you're Jesus breaking into people's houses don't take somebody's toilet paper and unravel it and don't be strange lights that don't tell anybody what you're doing but get a party line in the neighborhood maybe Maybe.
I don't know if we can suggest that.
Do it. I'm just like, do it, do it.
Okay, bye! That was a good one!
Brought to you by Michael.
That was a good one.
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Hear that? That's the sound of Cinnamon Toast Crunch telling us it's crunch time, as we gear up for another year of cereal training camp.
Last year, a dynamic brother duo competed and won the right to make their very own cereal.
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