Episode 577: Listener Tales 87

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You're listening to a morbid network podcast.

Hey weirdos, I'm Ash and I'm Elena, and this is morbid.

Hi, it's a special listener tale. it's a special listener tale brought to you by you, for you, from you, and all about you. I'm always impressed that you remember how to say that, really.

It's not that hard, thank you.

And not because I think it would be hard for you, it's because I think it would be hard for me.

I know what you really meant, I knew the underlying message there.

I know that you were just being mean.

I know that you were being a fucking hoe lol. This is actually a special edition of Listener Tales.

Actually special.

It's got a theme. I mean, yeah, they're all special. this has got a theme. It is the worst roommate ever edition because we got to partner with Blumhouse, which is really fucking cool.

We fucking love Blumhouse.

Yeah, we've been working on a couple of different things with them, I don't know if you guys remember. We got those screeners for Imaginary, We posted those a couple months ago, and now we got to get a screener for the new season of Worst Roommate ever. It premieres globally on June 26, 2024. But we got to see a little tidbit and it's so fucking good.

It's so different from other. Like, it's not that I'm disparaging true crime shows, but it's just like it's a unique take on true crimey. Just strange, unusual, unsettling kind of roommate situations, and they never go where you think they're going to go.

No, because we were all sitting here watching one. And I was like, all of us were like, No, that's not going to happen. And then we were like, Oh, that very much happened.

Not only did that happen, but six other things happened, exactly.

45 different things.

And the way they do it is fun because they do it. It's like a mix of, you know, the interviews, like the talking head interviews, some like real footage. And they also do these like animations, which I thought were really fun. They're like fun animations that actually like, show you what happened as they're explaining what happened, yeah.

It's a little bit different. So the new season, like I said, it's premiering globally on June 26th, and there are four new episodes, 60 minutes each. And you guys should really fucking go watch them because this show goes crazy, it does go crazy.

As Caleb would say, the show goes crazy.

I love a weekend, just like cozying up on the fucking couch and watching some kind of docu-series like this. Oh yeah, and this is perfect.

I love a docu-series.

And four 60 minute episodes, Let's go, That's my day, Bitch, Let's go.

That's my day, bitch.

That's my day, Oh man, that's my weekend day.

It's my weekend, my weekend.

All right, so because we are, you know, really excited about the new season of Worst Roommate Ever, we collected some Worst Roommate Ever listener tales from you guys.

Hell yeah, and some of them, they're not just like, you know, run of the mill physical roommates. Some of them are roommates from beyond some of them. I think there's like one in here that got thrown in here just because it mentioned roommates and I liked it.

Fair enough, what a simple reason.

Would it be our show without it being a little off, just a little bit?

Just a little off because I liked it.

The person, her and her husband, I can't remember. We'll get to it. Her and her person are ghost fans, so I think it drew me in.

That's the reason that you picked it.

And they seem so sweet.

That's the reason. Do you want to start?

Let's start.

Like, do you want to particularly?

I want to start, I want to start, I want to start.

It's like that Alaska song, you specifically.

So this one is called, Let us see. It's called my college experience of witchcraft and attempted murder.

That's different from my college experience.

It is a little different.

A little bit.

It's a little different.

Moderately.

Witchcraft and murder.

Witchcraft was there, murder was not.

So this one says, Hi, Ash and Elena. Here are two tales from my whack-ass college experience. The first story is very witchy and the second is very true-crimey. I awkwardly timed myself reading it out loud, and it took about seven minutes. I will shit myself with glee if this ever gets told on the show. My birthday is in a few days, the day after Ash's.

Wait, so this is going to come out on your birth month, technically.

So hap-ay, hap-ay.

Birth Month, Birth day Gemini.

Gemini Quinn.

And being on a Listener Tales episode would be the greatest gift.

Happy birthday, happy birthday sister.

With spookiness, I don't know if I can say your name, so hold on, yep, you can, yep, I can, Hannah.

Cunt buckets is a great insult.

Before we get into it, I need to do the obligatory gushing and tell y'all what a bright light you are in my life. I always, that's such a kind thing to say.

I know that's very nice.

I'm a bodybuilder girl. Yes, that's get it, that's cool.

Oh, baby, baby, chicken and broccolini.

I always feel like I'm surrounded by friends while listening and getting a new episode. Feels like Christmas morning every time. Aw aw okay. On to the Witchcraft to set the scene. I was a college freshman, eight hours from home, at a school where I didn't know a single soul.

I was like, Would you?

This first story is of my best friend's experience getting randomly assigned a roommate who happened to be a kinky witch.

A kinky witch?

We'll call my best friend Ella, I love that name pretty, and the roommate, Molly Molly, was a bit of a character.

You sure do.

Hell yeah, I sure do. I love that vibe, you sure know that fucking vibe. She also unpacked a bunch of outfits that looked like a cross between Halloween costumes and stuff you'd see in a serial killer's favorite detective magazine.

Keep it to your room and I don't care.

Yeah, honestly, it's like, whatever.

Keep it in your room, don't do it on the couch, that's not.

It is that's a tough accommodation, though. yeah, to have a roommate you don't know while doing that, that's a little tough.

That is a hard accommodation.

But again, live your life. Ella tried to be accommodating and spent as much time outside of their room as possible, but tensions quickly rose. Which, of course it is. They're in college, too.

I'm thinking of when I used to go visit my friends in their third or fourth years of college.

Where it was like a house.

When they had a house or an apartment, this is one room.

This is a dorm.

That's a little.

Tensions quickly rose when Ella re-entered the room to Molly, filming titties flying in the wind in a maid costume with clamps on her nips.

Go crazy. I mean, girl, get it. That's a bonding experience.

Girl, get it? I was just going to say, Honestly, I'd be like, did we just become best friends? I don't know how we go any further than that.

I'd be like, I think you should change your part, put these shoes on and it will up the views.

And then just be like, carry on and then just leave. Do you want a coffee?

Just step out, goodbye. It's like Amy Poehler in Mean Girls. You guys need anything, some snacks?

A condom.

Oh, God love you.

God love you, you, keep me young, I love you so much and then just leave bye.

Things finally.

And you know what it is? I have no idea what happens here, but I'm just saying, I feel like this is one of those things where she's like, Okay, this is what I do. And you have to sit down and you just set boundaries for each other.

Or, honestly, make a schedule? Yeah, definitely, boundaries, set some boundaries, also boundaries.

Set some schedules.

Yeah, and it could work.

Talk it through, talk it all through, really, get it out in the open. Communication is key.

And my whole motto is live and let live. So I'm like, Yeah, sure, do your kinky wit shit, that's fucking awesome.

That's how I feel.

But do it between the hours of 10 and 12 so that I can come.

So I can just have something else to do during that time.

Like, I respect your need to do that.

Growing in life, I think you get to a point where you're just like, just let people do shit that makes them happy. As long as it's not hurting you. And it's like, So, you know, but this is a difficult situation. Like, it's not like. I've ever been in this situation and I can't tell you how I would totally react. But you know, I feel like this could have gone smoother.

I understand why that would be deeply upsetting.

This is where boundaries go.

If you're going to put your sex toys in the microwave, you know what, go for it, baby, not the microwave that we share.

Not my microwave, not my microwave, no way.

Not now, not never, not now.

Not never.

That's, that's some kind of horrific thing waiting to happen.

This is what we call a boundary cross. Okay, you've crossed that boundary that I didn't think I had to put in place. To be quite honest, that's not okay. I didn't think that was one I had to clearly state. And Ella got the RA to kick her out of the room.

Oh, she's a witch baby, yeah.

As she packed up, she informed Ella that she had hexed her and should expect unfortunate events to come her way.

Cool for her to be up front about it.

But also not cool because I'm like, you're hexing someone.

I'm very kidding.

That's not good witch behavior.

But you know what, cool for her to say, cool for her to beat your tubs.

Yeah, she's like, just letting you know when shit falls apart.

That was me, girl.

Yeah, it's fine. No, this is, this is bad.

This is getting bad really fast.

This is not going to be great. Within the first week of freedom from Molly, Ella contracted the Rona.

Oh, no.

She didn't attribute this to the Hex since it was 2021, and getting sick at college seemed inevitable. True, however, she quickly declined to the point of needing hospitalization and was nearly put on a ventilator.

Oh my god.

Mind you, Ella was a champion cross-country runner in perfect health with no pre-existing conditions. Holy shit. As soon as Ella recovered and returned to school, she tore her ACL. Just walking, what? just walking?

Thank God.

While recovering from surgery, Ella fell down the stairs and suffered a brain bleed. What I can't even name, all of the misfortunes that have befallen her since the initial hexing. Ella has also become deaf in one ear, needed surgery on her other leg, had multiple cardiac events and more.

This got so real, so fast. Oh my god.

I don't know what that bitch and her herbs were up to, other than sexy nurse roleplay. But I seriously can't explain how Ella's health could decline so quickly and in so many ways. Moral of the story If your sexually and spiritually adventurous roommate leaves sex toys in the microwave, don't fucks with them.

Just get a new microwave.

Just don't fucks with that. Get your own microwave.

I hope Ella's okay. I know Jeez, and honestly, I'm of the mindset that whatever you get back, whatever you put up comes back three times, three. I believe in karma.

Yeah, I believe in karma.

I don't do hex magic.

No way now I have one more story from the depths of my personal hell, a.k.a. freshman year. Oh, no, so, without further ado, here's the time my roommate confessed to a heinous crime to me and then possibly tried to kill me.

Oh, great.

One Friday night, I opened my bathroom door to find my roommate. Let's call her Sophie, sobbing, pantsless in the bathtub, with a mostly empty bottle of pink Whitney next to her. I felt that I don't even know what that is.

Pink Whitney Yeah, it's like a pink lemonade kind of alcohol. Oh no, it's incredible.

I just dry heaved.

I'm 28 years old. That sounds so sweet, but back in the day it is. I used to love Pink Whitney.

Oh, I've never even heard of that, that's wild, really, never seen that, huh?

Oh, okay.

Like, that is not ...

Are you like a take my whiskey and be a pretty bitch kind of girl? That's exactly it could never be me, baby.

It's that I like because I'm not really a drinker anyways.

Yeah.

I just don't general.

Will literally fuck me right up.

It would kill me. Yeah, I think I'd be gone, yeah, like I would take three sips and probably be like, whoop, I'm out.

I did martinis on the cruise with my mother-in-law.

But when I was, like, younger.

Oh, that was last year for me, and I was feeling woozy-oozy.

I'm like, fucking Rupert Giles of Teenage drinking over here with a dirty martini. I love it.

I just picture, like, 19-year-old you with a.

But yeah, I'm not, I'm definitely not a super, a sweet alcohol person.

Yeah, Pink Whitney was fucking good.

Scammers are best known for living the high life until they're forced to trade it all in for handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit once they're finally caught. I'm Sachi Cole and I'm Sarah Hagee. And we're the host of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of some of the most infamous scams of all time. The impact on victims and what's left once the facade falls away? We've covered stories like a Shark tank certified entrepreneur who left the show with an investment but soon faced mounting bills. An active lawsuit filed by Larry King. And no real product to push.

I was like at my locker and she came up to me and she was like, stuttering, super bad. I'm like, stop around. She's like, I can't.

A mystery illness, bizarre symptoms and spreading fast, like doubling and tripling. And it's all these girls with a diagnosis. The state tried to keep on the down low.

But it says my first thought was, Yeah, this seems pretty college. It does. It sure does so. I tried to back away slowly, as if confronted by a wild animal.

With no pants.

She probably wanted to be left alone, but before I could shut the door, she called my name, I'd be like, fuck.

Au contraire.

Even though I had an uneasy feeling and my gut was telling me, as Ash would say, my Uber was there. Me and my half-baked prefrontal cortex reluctantly got closer and perched on the edge of the bathtub. Then she said something I'll never be able to scrub from my brain. I won't get into the details because it would require about ten different trigger warnings. But it was heinous enough to make me nauseous and should have landed her in prison.

What did she admit to? You? Can we get a postscript?

I know I'm dying to know.

We'll leave it to ourselves.

Before we get to what she did next. I do want to say that figuring out what to do with this information was probably the hardest decision I've ever had to make. I hate that it was put on you. Yeah, that's a lot like you did not.

Yeah, I agree.

Instead, I anonymously reported her to campus police force so she would at least be on their radar. That was smart, yeah, I still grapple with this decision and hope I did enough.

Sounds like you did.

I think you did now. Back to the story, a few tense days passed where I could feel her watching my every move. I assumed that she would eventually chill out since nobody came knocking down our door to arrest her. But I was very, very wrong. The next Saturday, I absentmindedly told her I'd be out with my boyfriend for a few hours and she told me she was going to do some cleaning.

Jesus, you're a really good writer, I like your metaphors.

I know I like your metaphors. I managed to catch the door before it shut behind me and stepped back into the hallway coughing. I propped the door open with my bag to let the room air out and then noped the fuck out of the building. After getting about an hour of fresh air and calling my boyfriend, we donned masks and went back in to investigate. The smell was still painfully strong, but we were able to survey the room for a minute before it was too much to bear.

Is she making like mustard gas?

Yeah, what the fuck? I hadn't yet told my boyfriend about Sophie's confession, but I figured now was a good time to explain the situation. After giving him a brief overview without the gnarly details, he told me to call the campus police immediately. The campus police got me moved out of that room and into a new one. The same day. I was asked if she had any reason to try to harm me. And I held my tongue since I didn't want to mention the victim's name.

The fuck.

She claimed that she had searched this after the fact to try to figure out what had happened. But I'm fairly certain the crafty cunt looked it up before to ensure she made something dangerous.

Uh-huh.

Either way, the campus police are about as useless as the LAPD, and Ward has invested enough to question her explanation. At the end of the day, I got my no-contact order and she got to continue living her life without any consequences. I hope karma is real and one day people see her for the wet sock she is. That's a great way to describe someone. Well, that's all I have for you, lovely ladies.

Not so weird that you leave your sex toys in a microwave for another person and hex them with all these life-altering problems. And not so weird that you create mustard gas in your dorm room to try to kill your dorm mate when she can't even have a milkshake?

Yeah, that's not fair. Much love Hannah.

Thanks, Hannah, that was fucking wild and insane.

Hannah's absolutely stunning, literally gorge, absolutely stunning. Um, and so is your baby child, Arlo. I love your baby child.

Wait, hold on. Oh yeah, it is.

You're gorgeous, literally, gorge, and you're hilarious, and you're a great writer.

Hannah, you really are.

And happy birth month.

When you said something, Yeah, happy birth month. When you said something about asparagus piss, I was like, I have to go now.

Rancid asparagus pissed scented guts, yeah.

Essentially, like, that's everything, everything in the world.

Everything.

All right, my next one is myopic spooky dookie listener tale.

That's actually me.

You're welcome, Sam.

Damn sam.

Fun fact The famous battle actually happened on nearby Breeds Hill. Additionally, my great-grandmother lived in Brewster, out on the cape, in a house that we still have. Oh my God, Sam. And this is where I've spent every ounce of my free time ever since. I can normally be found on Cape Cod in my little Boston whaler, chasing stripers and pulling spider crabs out of my lobster pots.

That's the most new England shit I've ever heard.

I love that you should just stay here.

That was the most. —You are in New England, what are you doing in Philadelphia?

They do have good cheese steaks, get out of there, and I heard hoagies are incredible, get out of there, yeah, but come on.

We had to share it, Oh.

There were three bedrooms in our house, my parents and my little sister on one side of the second floor, and I was down the hall on the other side. Not a huge distance, but I was certainly a bit on my own. I don't know how old I was when I started noticing things happening, but I was pretty young. And by the time I was in elementary school, I knew I was the main target of something. One could always hear footsteps throughout the house, which my parents chalked up to the house.

I think not.

I think not to ease my anxiety, my parents would let me keep the nearby bathroom light on as sort of a nightlight. In hindsight, this was a fucking horrible idea. Human shadows would frequently walk by my room, only visible because of the yellow light cascading out of the bathroom. This wouldn't be a problem if they were attached to an actual fucking human.

I was literally just going to say, Did these ghosts have IBS?

Or was there a portal in your bathroom? The toilet's actually a portal.

Oh, no.

Doors would open at random, and the footsteps always seemed to lead to and end in my room. To add insult to injury, it seemed as though I was the only one experiencing these events, so every event was chalked up to a draft or my overactive imagination.

Oh, that sucks.

That really does one event really stands out in my mind. Little nerdy Sam was in the bathtub, minding his own little nerdy business. The rest of the fam was downstairs, getting dinner ready or something. At this point, I'm washing my hair, or, more likely, seeing how long I can hold my breath underwater.

I did what needed to be done.

Yeah, I wasn't very brave in that moment, but hey, I was like, six or seven years old. You're a baby naked and definitely in no condition to be taking on any supernatural juggaloons.

That was your last tubby, I know.

The shadows, footsteps and occasional moving door continued for a few more years. Needless to say, I was afraid of the dark a little longer than I should have been. Interestingly, when I was around ten, my parents put an addition on the house.

Uh-oh, uh-oh. Renovations.

Renovations. This moved their room closer to me, and when they moved into their new room, most of the spooky events at night stopped. You could still hear weird noises throughout the house, and you could certainly get the feeling of being watched on occasion. Not a pleasant feeling when you're trying your best to pull off some Netflix and chill. While I was still living at home, I had a few friends get creeped out and leave while alone for any period of time in the house.

Wow, didn't see that coming me either.

As we got to talking, he made mention he married the daughter of a native medicine man and was somewhat knowledgeable of the supernatural. He said he often used diving rods to locate water and to communicate with the other side. My dad ever? The skeptic challenged him to find the original well on the property, which he did without a problem. He then asked if we had had any supernatural happenings. I chimed in with my experiences, and all of a sudden my parents chimed in with a few of their own.

I love that. The ghosts were like, No, no.

EW Clearly, these ghosties have some taste. And they said, Not in my motherfucking house. Another event happened shortly after they installed a new boiler in the basement, and for no reason, it ruptured and flooded the old basement. I suppose in this case, they were envious of hot water and indoor heating, probably.

Oh, that's so spooky.

She struck him with her motor vehicle, she had been under the influence, and then she left him there.

In January 2022, local woman Karen Reed was implicated in the mysterious death of her boyfriend, Boston Police Officer John O'Keefe. It was alleged that after an innocent night out for drinks with friends, Karen and John got into a lover's quarrel en route to the next location. What happens next depends on who you ask. Was it a crime of passion?

If you believe the prosecution, it's because the evidence was so compelling. This was clearly an intentional act. And his cause of death was blunt force trauma with hypothermia.

Or a corrupt police cover-up?

If you believe the defense theory, however, this was all a cover-up to prevent one of their own from going down.

Everyone had an opinion, and after the 10-week trial, the jury could not come to a unanimous decision.

To end in a mistrial. It's just a confirmation of just how complicated this case is.

Law and Crime presents the most in-depth analysis to date of the sensational case in Karen. You can listen to Karen exclusively with Wondery. join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts or Spotify.

I kind of love that.

They fessed up to the wallpaper incident 25 years prior. Then, as soon as it started, the rod stopped moving. I guess ghosts don't like playing 20 questions. Who does say what you will about medicine, man, or their in-laws, or diving rods or whatever?

They really do, Sam.

My mom is now selling the old house, and I wonder what the next stewards of the house will experience from the mischievous duo that reside in the old halls. As long as they don't add any wallpaper, they should be fine anyway. I hope you enjoyed my long-winded version of my experiences in my childhood home. Sincerely, a much larger but still nerdy Sam, who has since discovered contacts fitting clothing and hair products. P...s.

Philadelphians are obnoxious sports fans.

Are they really? I didn't know that.

Not knocking you because we are also obnoxious sports fans.

Philadelphians got us beat, I think.

I'm obsessed with that story. Sam, I love you and I love that you married a beautiful woman and that you have a family of your own.

I love your IBS-cos, I love your IBS-cos, I love that. They had taste and said, Fuck this wallpaper, I just really love that, that's great.

That's great.

You're wonderful, Sam, fantastic.

So this one's called the roommate from actual hell and a human sacrifice, whoa.

Just a little bit of everything.

Wowzers, hold on. I'm going to copy and paste this into a place where I can zoom in.

Because you're old.

Because mama needs new glasses.

Retweet.

And I just haven't made an eye appointment.

Do you re-ex now instead of retweet?

I had no idea what you were just asking me. At first, I was like, what is re-exing? I don't do any of it.

Yeah, I don't do any of that either.

So, you know, that's where we are. Because fuck that shit, yeah, hey Ash and Elena, I love the shit out of you guys.

I know that's really great of you.

Disclaimer I'm a long-winded broad, so this email is a lengthy one. Sorry, not sorry.

I love when people refer to themselves, and just in general, when people refer to other people as broads.

Oh, I love the term broad.

It's great, it's so gritty. Who's this broad?

It feels, yeah, it feels very gritty.

I especially love calling the girls broads.

Oh, yeah, I love that.

It's funny.

Come on, you broads.

Come on, you little Broads.

I also love that my dad calls my mom Toots a lot in, like, the most endearing way. Come on, Toots.

I love it so much. He's like, all right toots, let's go, and he always does. It's so cute because that's not like a typical pet name, I feel.

It's a very like of his time pet name.

It's either toots or cat.

Come on, toots, oh, I love it. So anywho. I have a fun, spoopy story. That's a whole hell of a lot funnier now than it was when it happened. But first, just a fun little fact.

Yeah, I love him.

So on to my crazy-ass story. You know how, when you first go to college, one typically rooms in the freshman dorms. And you have no idea who your roommates are going to be. If they're going to be psychos or try to strangle you in your sleep, yeah, my 18-year-old self was hella worried about that because I had just found out. My best friend since fourth damn grade, who had planned with me for years to go to the same school, just told me she wasn't going to go to college with me because that shit's expensive.

That's a fair concern.

Which, like, you don't know what you're walking into.

Yeah, that's a lot.

It's a legit concern of who you're going to be living with.

That's overwhelming.

Well, it turns out I had nothing to worry about. All my roommates were wonderful and we became best friends forever. The end, haha. Just kidding, my first year, I actually did luck out and had great roommates. Except for that one dumbass shithead who has never had to be literally do anything for herself ever. And couldn't figure out how to do the most basic adult things, like how microwaves work or how to melt butter.

I hope you're not listening, but my little sister at like.

I hope you're listening.

She had to be like 12, 13, maybe 14, and put metal into the microwave and we all were like, Are you fucking kidding?

Wow.

Is this a joke?

Are you alright? She's like, I didn't know, and the answer is, nor.

Nor love you, Lou.

So other than her, they rocked. We had a good time and the girl I shared a room with became really close to me. This is important to the rest of the story. The girl I roomed with, Mandy, wanted to live with me, and another girl from our apartment, Anna. The following semester, we decided to move off campus and find a new place to live, because that shit's also expensive.

That sounds horrible.

In the end, Anna had to back out of living with Mandy due to financial reasons. And Mandy was left with three new roommates. Who ended up being total shit stains, who were awful to her and gave her crazy anxiety. I'm sorry, I know, so she ended up basically living on my couch and becoming our seventh roommate.

Like Broad.

She was just always there, I don't know, maybe she was some Hogwarts reject witch who had figured out how to apparate to and fro. But this hoe never seemed to leave. But, like you also never knew if she was home. Her door was always closed. And you could be home for hours and be pretty damn convinced you were the only one home.

Up until this point, great fucking roommate.

Sounds great, ideal also this hoe never washed her dishes?

And that's where you lose me.

And that's where you lose me. And one time I knocked on her door to invite her to come play games with us, and her room was hella disgusting. There was shit everywhere, and who knows, maybe a dead body buried under the mountain of dirty laundry you'd never be able to tell EW.

What, that's it, just the moan.

We all just looked at each other, not sure what—I just pitched to you all.

Freezing.

Just like laughing, joking with each other, and you're just like, Oh my God.

Whoa, and everybody just stops and just stares in silence.

Then we heard it again, my dumb ass was just about to ask if we should go ask if she was okay. When straight-up shit hit the fan or the wall because this bitch was throwing books and shit against her goddamn wall and yelling like someone had just come in and stabbed her in the chesticles. We all froze in fear and straight-up all laughed.

I love that you guys just dipped. You're like, you know, it sounds like she's going through it, she should have that alone time.

It sounds like she's dying. We should dip, we should dip the hell out of here, she says. Our Uber was there yesterday.

I mean, if she was already kind of stretched, I'd be like, you know what, that's for you.

Things like this started happening on the Reg. Her having a complete meltdown and throwing stuff happened at least once a week. And when she did emerge from her lair, she would often be mumbling to herself, and we would occasionally hear maniacal laughter coming from behind her closed door.

That'd be so scary.

I'm still not convinced that she wasn't possessed by Satan himself, although Satan probs. Would have been way more pleasant to hang out with than her. And let's be honest, we would have had way more fun if he was around. I love you now. Remember our half-roommate, half-adopted stray Mandy, who sleeps on the couch because of her no-good, waste-of-space dumbass roommates?

Who knows, to be honest, lullabies are fucking weird.

Once she reached the kitchen, Mandy cracked her eyes open and could see by the light of the moon that Stephanie had walked into the middle of the kitchen. And then just stopped and stood there for five whole ass minutes.

Five minutes is a long time.

I shit, you not, you guys just stood there like a psychopath, staring into the void. And then she turned around and walked her spooky ass towards Mandy. She slowly. For some reason, I think calling people spooky is the funniest shit.

It makes me think of Katie Maloney from Vanderpump Girls.

I'm calling Joe spooky.

It's just like such a.

It's a read, it's a read it is.

So she slowly crept towards her, came right up to the couch and stared straight down at Mandy. With her greasy ass hair hanging around her face. Like the grudge, herself just dragged her nasty ass out of the TV to get her next victim, Mandy tried not to scream. She said she was pretty sure she stopped breathing. After a full ass terror-inspiring minute, Stephanie looked at her terror-filled face and whispers.

Trick or treat?

Can you fucking imagine?

There's an important thing here. It was mid-November.

I don't care if it was October, November, December, January, February, March, April, May, June or July, August or September, I would be, I would, I don't know.

It absolutely is giving his Tamra home.

That was one of my best. I'd just like you to acknowledge that that was a good one, thanks.

That was a good one. Then, she laughed maniacally and sauntered back to her room.

Just like lol.

And then she said, I shit you not, I cannot make this show. Mandy waited 15 whole seconds before sprinting like hell to our room, locking herself in and then spending the rest of the night crammed into my twin size bed with me. And I don't blame her, me either.

So you're just leaving Mandy in the middle and locking all your doors, yup.

Damn, and that if Stephanie were to ever go batshit crazy, Mandy would just have to be the unfortunate human sacrifice that would appease the monster. Hashtag Best friends forever.

Best friends forever, just best friendship.

So that's the story of my Roommate from Hell, and how Mandy almost became a human sacrifice trick or treat. I ended up moving out the next semester and Mandy moved into my room. I don't know why the hell she still wanted to be there, but at least now she has a door she can lock. And I never had to deal with Stephanie, the crazy ass, spooky and deranged as hell, psycho ever again.

Yay, yay, Mandy. Thanks so much for reading.

I love you guys and your damn podcast. I love that you keep referring to it as your damn podcast. I like that.

We should work that in, somehow we should, and this is our damn podcast, morbid.

And this is morbid, our damn podcast.

I like it.

I like that, I hope you enjoyed this story and I hope you keep it. Weird, but not so weird that you go to college and don't know anyone and then don't know how to do shit for yourself. And try to put a whole ass metal pan in the microwave and then have shitty roommates so you have to sleep on a couch and have a crazy psycho ass roommate who never cleans and throws things in her room. And laughs maniacally and is spooky as hell and whistles and sings creepy ass lullabies? And then stalks towards you in the middle of the night with her grudge ass self and whispers trick or treat.

Even weird, just not that fucking weird.

That was phenomenal.

Oh my god.

Lizzie, you rule, and I'm glad you lived to tell that tale because I appreciated it.

That's so funny.

Oh, Jesus.

That got you.

That was so metal.

I know it's like the mini morbid theme, all right, hello weirdos.

Hello after close call with death.

I feel so unhinged today.

That's like that meme with, like, the Pink House and the Black House next to each other. Hello weirdos. This is close call with death.

We also are the human version of that we are like, even right now.

All right.

My niece turned me on to your podcast and I'm officially addicted. Hey. I've listened to every episode, sometimes twice, and I'm now going through all the spooky but hilarious listener tales. Thank you.

You're great.

You're awesome, Tiffany to start. My name is Tiffany and I made that up. I live in Southern California, that area where everything costs three times as much as anywhere else, but the weather's perfect. Insert eye roll here.

Perfect for some, perfect.

My spooky tale begins when I was 18 years old and decided it would be more fun to move out to an apartment where my two guy acquaintances lived. Instead of going to college, I was done with teachers and being told what to do, so I was going to prove my independence and forge my own way. Now. I was not just your regular run-of-the-mill young adult living the good life. I was a rebellious little shit who, fast forward 30 years, has her own young adult little shits. Karma is a bitch.

That's some real shit right there.

Literally, Lord, help anyone who ever came over that month. My mom wouldn't have approved. But what you don't know won't kill you. Even though my new roommates were great, I didn't know them all that well and slept with a stun gun. In case some creepo came creeping in my room, I'd make sure they got a real shock.

Get him.

Well, one dark night with the usual crowd over at the apartment, and after smoking a little weed, drinking a few beers and feeling pretty good in general. I went into my room and was followed by a friend, Mike. He quietly closed the door to my room, approached me and put his hands on my shoulders. I could feel the worried mojo energy coming off of him as I stared into his eyes like a deer caught in headlights. I knew he was going to say something I did not want to hear, and boy did he. He spoke in a low, raspy voice and said in a whisper Your roommates are planning to have someone rob your friend Dave and kill anyone else who happens to be in the apartment.

What the fuck?

I cannot begin to tell you the look on my face. part, shock, part, disbelief, part. Yeah, right, asshole. Disclaimer My friend Dave was not an innocent guy. He sold products on a cash only basis. If you catch my drift.

If you catch my drift.

If you know what I'm saying. So, he always had a lot of cash with him, but surely he didn't deserve to be murdered?

Holy shit.

At first, my jaw hung to the floor as I processed this information and stared at Mike, as if to catch the starting of a smile and realize I was being punked. Needless to say, I didn't get the reassurance I needed and it sunk in that he was giving me a warning and was possibly trying to save my life. My friend Dave was supposed to be coming over any minute that night. So I frantically threw some clothes in a bag. Grabbed my stun gun and pieced right on out of there as fast as my feet could carry me. I ran into Dave as he was pulling up to the apartment, I jumped in the truck and just screamed at him, Gun it.

Hey, just shook you right into that.

I love it well, now is where it gets interesting. Fast forward. And several years later, a husband and three kids later, I decided to look up some random people on the computer to pass the time. After all, I had three kids and I needed a mind-numbing activity. I went down a few rabbit holes, even looked up what Justin Bieber was up to these days.

You know, as everybody does, of course.

I decided to try to find my old roommate James and see what happened to him. I did the usual FaceTime, I think, Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn with no luck and then just googled him. Suddenly, there he was an old picture of him looking like the sweet-faced surfer kid I knew back in the day, except wearing a prisoner's outfit, yeah.

Whaaaaat.

To my shock, I read the story of what happened after I moved out. in fact, only a few months after I moved out. Yeah, a few months. Holy shit. Just writing this brings chills down my spine.

What the fuck?

My old roommate, James and a friend were working for a man doing odd jobs on his farm. When they had the great idea that instead of working to earn the money, they could go ahead and rob the boss instead. One night, with plans in place, they drove a few towns over to where the boss lived in a run-down motorhome on a few acres. No one around for miles, fresh air is for dead.

Holy shit.

My palms were sweating at this point as I realized this could just as well have been me laying on the floor with a gunshot to the back of my head. Apparently, James was caught after blabbing to an informant, went to trial and received two consecutive life sentences for first-degree murder. Holy shit, I was stunned as I think back. I'm always grateful that I listened to my friend and trusted my instincts. And noped the hell out of that apartment while I was still breathing.

First of all, holy shit, second of all, holy shit. Mike's a real one. Yeah, for pulling you in there and being like, get the fuck out of the apartment.

Because at first I was like, What the fuck is this creep about to do?

I know I was like, What's Mike gonna do right now?

Like, closing the door slowly and shit, yeah.

But damn, thankfully, Mike was on it. Yeah. And then for you being smart enough to not, because we've heard so many stories of, like, Ah, you're stupid, no blah.

Not chancing that.

And for sleeping with a stun gun before that, that's incredible. Good job, smart, you're a smart gal.

You really are tiffany.

Tiffany, you're a smart gal.

Tiffany Five ever.

Five ever, Let's see Should I close it out with the ghost fan listener tale? You've gotta? I'm not even sure if it's roommate related, but you guys are just adorable. And I was like, there's a picture of both of them.

Gotta read it.

So it says, Let's see, dear lovely, morbid ladies, my name is Neva and feel free to use my name. I give no fucks.

That's a pretty name.

That is a really pretty name. I'm so excited to write in to you chicks because I'm a 41-year-old goth kid who really enjoys the work you two do. And I'm grateful to have found your podcast. Thank you, I'm in love with you.

No, you guys are so cute.

I'm obsessed with it, I'm obsessed with the rings. John and I were talking about it recently, actually, so I'll be on board with you here. That we were like, if we got married now, he was like, my, my.

I'm like, it's going to be such a different vibe when you get married again to each other again.