Transcript of Listener Tales 113: 90's Sleepover Edition!

Hey weirdos, I'm Ash. And I'm Alayna. And this is Morbid in the '90s at a sleepover. It is, period.

I decided to go with me in the '90s who was like Like a 12, 13-year-old. I like that. Like, who can't do their makeup.

You keep saying that, but I like it.

Really goes for like the, like, high contrast shit going on.

It's very— it's very of the time. I was going for a Pam Anderson eye and a Y2K hair. That's—

and honestly, you nailed it. You look really pretty. Thank you.

I think you look like you would be a cool girl. You look pretty, like, as 12.

Yeah, like, I look like I'm like—

You could be on the COVID of like Tiger Beat.

Hell yeah.

Yeah.

Or I could be holding a tiger bead and pretending I was on the COVID That's—

No, you could be on the COVID for sure.

You know?

Yeah. But I also did a zigzag part.

You did, which is really iconic.

It took me 6 tries.

I think it always took me a lot of tries, so I don't think I ever mastered it.

The secret, I think, is that you do it tinier than you think.

Yeah, that's true.

Yeah. And you really have to keep track of where that hair goes. And then you pinch and you separate. That's, that's that.

And that's zigzag parts, in case you're wondering.

Yeah.

You know.

So these are listener tales and they're '90s themed.

Yeah.

And they're brought to you by you, for you, from you, and all about you.

I wish it was the '90s again.

I wish— I say it all the time, I wish I got to experience more of the '90s.

It was— I know it wasn't like a better time overall. Like, I know that, uh, like the nuance of it all.

Yeah, I mean, no, no time is that much better.

The time before the internet, I think personally was better.

Yeah, I think so too. But now you have like 11-year-olds doing get readies with me to go to 5th grade.

Have you guys seen that shit?

It's so disturbing.

It's honestly upsetting to me. Like, stop letting your children be on TikTok and like, not only doing get readies with me while they're cracking open an Alani, which is gonna make their heart explode at like 7:00 AM before school.

200 milligrams of caffeine in an Alani. I question— I am the— I'm a 30-year-old woman, which I still can't get past. What did he say? I am a 30-year-old married woman.

He said, don't forget you're married.

He said, bitch, you got it, Drew. But I, I question drinking an Alani.

I'm like, You know why I do this today? You know, I know you never drank an Alani because I'm too scared my heart will explode.

Here's the thing. Don't, because you'll take that risk.

Yeah, I won't. I'm not gonna do it.

And of course, like, they're not gonna, like, your heart's not gonna explode.

Yeah. We're not saying Alanis are gonna make your heart explode.

They're not. I drink them. Yeah.

But like, I'm just scared of energy drinks in general. Energy drinks freak me out. I'm scared I'm gonna get like heart palpitations.

Have you ever had an energy drink?

I've had, uh, I've literally taken like a sip of a Red Bull.

Red Bull. Oh my God.

But I don't really like the taste of energy drinks. And if I don't like the taste of something, it's why I don't really drink either. If I don't like the taste of something, yeah, what the fuck is the point? Yeah, my entire thing is like, I want to enjoy what I'm ingesting.

That's why I like a mocktail, to be honest.

That's the thing.

I love them because they taste like juice. Juice.

And they don't make me feel yucky.

Yeah.

And they don't have that weird, like, alcohol taste. Yeah.

You know, that's why I used to like schnapps, because I liked the taste of schnapps.

Yeah. See that? I'm a Shirley Temple gal.

I love a Shirley Temple. I also love what a hot commodity it is when either of us orders a Shirley Temple at an event. People are like, a Shirley Temple? Does it have gin in it? We're like, no.

Nobody knows what to do. And I'm like, guys, it's yummy.

Yeah, it's a fun drink.

If you haven't had a Shirley Temple, whoa, go get one. And also, if you haven't had one in a while, go get one.

Run to Target.

It's nice.

And you don't have to put gin in it.

And you won't feel like shit.

That's true.

It's nice.

It's just a Shirley.

You get to enjoy a pretty little drink that tastes yummy, that doesn't make you feel shitty.

I don't even know if we acknowledged this, and like, phooey on us if we didn't. We might have.

Phooey.

Phooey. Uh, Canada Dry sent us a bunch of their exclusive flavors. This is not a paid ad at all.

No, it's not.

You're talking about Shirley Temples. Yeah, they sent us like the Cherry Fruit Splash, and then there was a strawberry flavored one. The strawberry flavored one tastes like a Shirley Temple. Yeah.

And again, not an ad. They just sent us those and they were really good.

Yeah, I didn't even know that they had flavors. So thanks.

Canada Dry.

Yeah. So you could get a Shirley Temple or you could get one of those.

Yeah, go for it.

Yeah. Um, do you— did he say you're funny?

He said you are funny.

Oh my God, Nicholas, I think that I, I'm gonna take that because I feel like he said it to me and I feel like he never says nice things to me. Like, I'm taking that one, please.

You can take it.

Okay. Thank you, Nicholas. I'm so— I'm elated. I love that. I'm over the moon.

Thank you, Nicholas.

What if he literally said not, not, not you, not you, bitch? I would die. You are not the one.

Also, on the book tour, we met so many people that were so pro-Nicholas.

I'm starting to believe that the people who are not—

Yeah, they're bots.

Are bots.

Yeah. You're bots.

I think you're fake if you don't like Nicholas.

I think the Nicholas lovers outweigh the Nicholas haters.

Wasn't there a Nicholas shirt that said, like, Justice for Nicholas or something like that?

No, it was a justice for someone from the book. Oh, okay. We won't spoil it because I did spoil it at the New York event.

Sorry if you were there. I'm still— I'm embarrassed to this day. You know when you wake up at 3:00 AM I'm thinking about things. I'm like, sorry, I spoiled that.

That was hilarious.

Rough. Oh, all right. I feel like you always read the first one.

I'll read the first one. Do it, girl. Let's go. All right, let me make sure I'm speaking into the mic here.

Speak into it.

This one's called A Dreamy Discovery Listener Tale.

Ooh.

You are more than permitted to use my name and all names in this story, as I'm just a real-ass bitch and keep things authentic. I already love you. I started listening to you gorgeous ladies a few months ago and have literally not turned back. There's something— you should turn back and look behind you, make sure nothing's there.

Turn around.

Uh, there's something about the both of you that is so damn comforting to me. I don't know if it's your love for all things spooky, the dark humor— I love it— your authenticity, love for F-bombs, or just the fact that y'all are boss-ass bitches. But you guys are my literal soul sisters. I love you.

We just became best friends.

We did. And I love you so much. I love you so much. What did he say?

Pathetic.

He always said that. He says that when we get too excited about something.

He does.

Nicholas might be Gen Z.

He's like, cringe.

He's like, that's cringey.

Shut up. Okay.

I'm just kidding, Nicholas. Let's see.

What if he turns on you?

He will never.

Uh, I drive— I love the confidence. He will never.

He will never. I know that about Nicholas.

She said, I curated this motherfucker.

No way. Uh, I drive a solid hour and a half to and from work as a direct support professional for an adult with autism.

Aww.

And this podcast keeps me fucking going. I also turned my ever stoic, muscular, stone cold tattooed hubby onto you guys, and now we listen together.

I love that. That's precious. And now he's gonna hear that you said that and it's gonna give him a little boost.

It's true. He's gonna love that.

They love a compliment.

So let's begin, shall we? We shall. I want to tell you some about the time, not too long ago actually, where my dreams were helping me to find a long-lost childhood treasure of mine from my now deceased mother. Stay with me here. And honestly, there's so much more to all of this that I might circle back one day to write more tales, but this one just gives me the goosies.

I like that. I love goosies.

And please write more other tales. Yeah, all of them. I am the youngest sibling of 3 and the only girl. I was also born into a very Italian family from a very Italian mother whose name is Gina.

Gina!

However, I have super fair skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Naturally, my older brothers, 4 years between the middle brother and I and 6 years between the oldest brother and I, used to rag on me that I was adopted and seemingly found enjoyment out of watching the life, the life exit my eyeballs as I looked at my parents. Specifically my mom, who I look just like, and contemplated life.

How do I look like you if I'm adopted?

I would have many conversations with my mom asking her if I was actually adopted, and she would always laugh and provide me with reassurance that I came from her veej. My words, not hers. Sorry, Mom. She proceeded to tell me that she was going to keep having babies until she had, quote, her girl. Lo and behold, I was born on a Friday, May 10th, 1991. '90s gal for life.

Woop woop!

And my mom got to bring me home on Mother's Day.

Oh, that's sick. Oh, that's like, gorge.

That's awesome.

That's beautiful.

She told me that I was the best Mother's Day gift she could have ever received. I could cry typing that. Needless to say, as the baby and the only girl in my immediate family, my mom and I had such a special relationship. That woman was my entire being and soul, and I like to think that I was hers. You're gonna make me cry.

I was gonna— I'm gonna lose it.

I was definitely spoiled, but come on, I was her only daughter. Sometimes it's not a bad thing, you know?

No.

During this time, my mom opened her own own preschool called the Lane Day School. I was a year old when she started, but apparently was always in the mix. My great-grandmother, AKA Meemaw, real name Mildred, and my grandmother, AKA Nonnie— or is it Nonnie?

Nonnie.

Yeah, it's Nonnie. That's Italian. Real name Joy. I love that. Lived in a very neat and definitely very haunted home in which my mom little by little began turning into said preschool. Eventually, my Meemaw and Nonnie relocated to a new home very willingly. And my mom converted their old house into a fully licensed preschool. I attended the Lane Day School during my preschool years and was a fucking terror. Hashtag separation anxiety from my mom.

What did he say? I don't like it. He said, I don't like that you were a terror in preschool.

I don't like it. Hashtag separation anxiety from my mom. Oop, been there. I've had it. My kids have it. Spoiler, she was always in the same fucking building, but I would cry my little eyes out on a daily basis for her. Anyway, the Lane Day School became such a significant part of me and my brother's lives due to how much time we spent there. As we became elementary age, we would carpool with a family friend who would pick us up from our local Catholic school and take us to our mom's school, where we would do our homework, raid the pantry for snacks, and help my mom with little odds and ends of closing the place up.

That's adorable.

I know, I love that. I loved being there, despite the eerie feeling I would get when walking up the stairs from the dark, creepy basement to the main floor. I always felt like someone was behind me. Not necessarily anything bad, but scary. Scary enough that I would haul fucking ass up those steps so fast that 9 times out of 10, my legs would give out and I would trip and fall, only to spring right the fuck back up on my 2 feet and continue hauling ass until I was in the clear. I don't know. There was something, someone, others in that place, but from the other side, I swear. As I got older, I learned from my mom and my nonni that they used to wear— they used to hear what sounded like women talking and clinking glasses from the basement.

I'm obsessed with that.

I love that. Uh, no fucking thank you. I mean—

You're not obsessed with that.

I mean, they sound lovely, perhaps having a little ghostly tea party, but I'll take a rain check, ladies.

I would totally haunt my basement sometime and just have a tea party down there.

Just clinking glasses.

Fuck yeah.

Shirley Temps.

Yes!

Yeah, Shirley Teas. Because of the significance the school building had on my whole family, due mostly to my mom building a damn empire from the ground up, this bitch.

Hell yeah, Mom.

We not only spent a lot of time there to help my mom, but we would also have our birthday parties there. It was perfect. Spacious, kid-friendly, sans the tea party ghosts in the basement, a playground, and a lot of land to just be kids and have fun. On my 4th birthday, we were there celebrating, and my mom, dad, brothers, and party guests led me to the garage for my birthday surprise. I remember walking in and seeing the most gorge '90s battery-powered Barbie Lamborghini with a big bow on it.

Iconic.

I'm so jealous.

Iconic.

For any '90s ladies or gents listening, If you know, you know. The Barbie Lambo was the actual tits. I wanted one of those so bad, and I never got one. I'm surprised.

I didn't get one. I always wanted the Barbie Jeep. That was big when I was little.

I also wanted that, but that Lambo.

I never got any of the Barbie cars.

You want to hear about it? It had a fucking car phone that you could pick up and fucking chat with Barbie on.

That's really cool.

And had the most '90s color scheme going on. See attached photos. Oh, I'm so excited. I fucking loved that car, and I loved it even more because it was from my mom.

Aww.

I can remember riding the Barbie Lambo here and there at my childhood home, but the last I ever recalled seeing it was at my mom's school. He said, back off my Barbie Lambo. Fast forward a bit, my parents eventually sold the Lane Day School and a big piece of our childhood, but it was time and we were all okay with it. I was about 16 years old, so my mind was on teenage life and making questionable decisions.

Happens.

My mom ended up selling the building to someone we knew, so it wasn't too far gone. In October 2017, I gave birth to my first child, my son Jay. My little guy had a tough start with a heart condition and an 86-day stay at our local children's hospital. Oh my God. Damn. But he pulled through and we were finally able to bring him home for the very first time on January 10th, 2018.

Oh.

During those 86 days, my mom only missed one day to come and sit with me and my son while we battled with heart medications, several cardioversions, a brain bleed, and premature lung disease, amongst many other health ailments that my little dude plowed through like a champ he is. That woman pulled me through more than I can even put into words, all while beginning to, quote, deal with the signs of pancreatic cancer. Unbeknownst to all of us. Without giving all the fucking devastating details, my mom passed away on January 15th, 2021, not from cancer, but from fucking COVID.

Oh my God.

That pisses me off.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so mad for you. It was a life-altering moment for me, my son, my husband, and my unborn child, whom I was 7 months pregnant with and was a girl, the girl that was to be my mom's very first granddaughter.

Oh, that just gave me chills.

Goddamn. On March 11th, 2021, almost exactly 2 months after losing my mom, my second child, my daughter Ella—

I love that. That's such a pretty name.

—was born. Little did I know this little girl was going to heal me in ways I didn't know I could heal. Specifically speaking to losing my mom, handing down little bits of your childhood to your children is healing in and of itself. I did it with my son and could do it even easier with my daughter since we were both females. Soon enough, I began thinking back to my Barbie Lamborghini and its whereabouts, and the dreams started.

Hmm.

I began incessantly asking my brothers and my dad where we thought that car was, which no one had answers to. My dad told me it was stored at my brother's house. That brother told me he last saw it at my mom's school. The other brother told me he had no idea. We weren't getting far. In the meantime, I enrolled little Ella into daycare. Where would she be going, you ask? to the new owner of my mom's old school. Oh, that's so special. That's awesome. I was not able to send Jay there because he left his 86-day stay at the hospital when he was a baby with moderate to severe bilateral sensorineural hearing loss. Wow. Oh my God. And was enrolled in the early learning program at our local school for the deaf when he was 18 months old. If you ever want to be mind-blown, come watch my 6-year-old fluently bilingual in spoken English and ASL, But that's a story for a different day. That's so badass.

That's incredible. I took ASL in college and it was hard. It's hard. I ended up like not being able to continue.

How incredible is that?

A 6-year-old being completely fluent.

Fluent in both.

That's wild.

The kid is fucking unreal and amazing. And I swear he's a little earth angel. Like I said, maybe next tale because my boy sees some shit.

Send it!

Anywho, my daughter attended what was now called Learning Lane, where the new owner was smitten with the idea of life coming full circle. And my daughter now attending the same school I attended as a little girl.

That's so cool.

Sadly enough though, 2 years later, the new owner decided to sell the building and Learning Lane was no more. But the dreams— I'm a little afraid, Nicholas.

Just the dreams.

Because she said the dreams.

The dreams.

I would say they started around the time I enrolled my daughter at the school, which is eerie when you think about it. Sometimes the dreams would just be me walking around the building, but exactly as I was when I was a little girl. Other dreams, I would be in that same creepy basement, but every single special childhood item of mine would be down there, and I would be rummaging through said items looking for something. But exactly what I was looking for in the dreams was unknown. Soon enough, the dreams were happening almost nightly, specifically when the new owner announced to all of us parents about her selling the school and closing down. I got the sense that my dreams— that I got the sense from my dreams That they were trying to tell me something, and each time I woke, I wanted to go back. The dreams soon enough started talking— taking me to the 2 sheds on the property of the school, the same 2 sheds built by my dad when my parents started the business back in 1991. There were times I would walk into one of the sheds and it would be empty.

Then other times I'd walk to the other shed, but it would be locked and I couldn't get in. In this same time frame of those dreams becoming more and more persistent, the school building itself, uh, landed itself a for sale sign on the front lawn, and a new buyer purchased the building.

Hmm.

About a week or so later, one of my friends who knew of my connection to the school building texted me a Facebook post. It's important to note I was not on Facebook at this time, so If it wasn't for my friend, I would have never known anything. The post was the new building's owner's secretary holding essentially a garage sale for all the items left behind from the previous school's owner. It was noted in the post that the owner essentially shut the doors and left behind most everything.

Mm-hmm.

The post proceeded to give an announcement that the— that that upcoming Friday and Saturday between the hours of 12 and 4, people were allowed to come walk through the building and buy what was left before they gutted the entire building to turn it into the new owner's living space and realtor office. I figured, hey, why not? That'll be fun. I called my grandmother, remember, the very first tenant along with my great-grandmother.

Aww.

Asked if she wanted to join me, and that Friday afternoon I picked up my Nana and we made our way to the school. When I first walked in, everything seemed to be the same as when I last saw it from bringing Ella to school when she attended. The building smelled like pencils, crayons, and bleach with a little hint of an apple-y smell. Very specific, I know. Eventually I got to talking to the woman who organized the whole garage sale and told her of our family's history with the building. Her mind was blown, and she pretty much said, go look wherever you want in here. So I did. Something was pulling me to go into the basement, so I told my grandmother where I was going, and I made my way down the very steps I used to haul my ass up to get away from the tea party old lady ghosts, who were probably actually very nice. Lo and behold, the fucking lights for the basement didn't work.

Oh no.

So I whipped out my phone and used the flashlight and began walking through the cold, dark, but very full basement. When I say I felt like I entered a time machine and went back 29 years, I shit you not. I felt like I was back in time. As I type— as I'm typing this, my entire body is full of goosebumps and my hair is standing straight up. It's weird though. The fear I used to feel from the basement as a child was gone, and I was on a mission to look through every piece of my childhood history that I could find. Soon enough, I came across an old classroom and mounds of old papers with my mom's handwriting on them.

Oh, that's so special.

Old classroom newsletters, class crafts and projects. staff newsletters, all folders in folders labeled with my mom's writing.

Wow.

I love that. Even old photos of previous students. It was wild. I felt like I stepped back in time and I could not stop looking through all these items, trying to find anything I could relating back to my mom. I don't know how long I was in that basement, but soon enough I emerged in somewhat of a daze. I found my Nonni with a handful of items she was ready to bring with her, and we were about to say our goodbyes so that the garage sale lady Uh, to the nice garage sale lady when something quite literally screamed at me to ask about the 2 sheds. So I did. I first asked about the larger shed, to which the woman said there was not much in there, mainly old chairs and lawn equipment. Defeated, I said, ah, damn, okay. To which she said, is there something specific you're looking for? The words, I used to have a Barbie lamb, were all I could get out of my mouth before the woman smiled, grabbed a set of keys, and said, I think I have something to show you.

Ooh!

When I say I shit myself, I actually— I didn't actually, but I wanted to. So I followed the woman down the drive to the old, dilapidated blue shed. As soon as she turned the key to unlock and open it, she warned me she might be totally wrong in thinking she knew what I was about looking for. But as she opened those 2 squeaky, splintering doors, my heart fell out of my asshole. There, leaning vertically in the left corner of that shed, was my fucking Barbie Lamborghini from 29 years ago.

How cool is that?

I began sobbing, then trying to explain why I felt felt so strongly about this piece of plastic sitting in this shed covered with nests, spiders, and dirt. My Nonni was sobbing when I was finally able to tell the woman. Did he say, I don't understand? You can't understand. That's weird because she's basically saying you can't understand the significance of this.

He's like, you don't even know.

He's like, you can't even understand. And this was her dream. That first shed had basically nothing in it. And the second shed was like chock-a-block but locked. Yeah. Um, it was such a moment, I could relive it a million times. I asked the woman what she wanted for it, and through tears she said, I don't want money. Take it.

Oh!

That day, it hit me why I had so— had so many dreams of the school building. Something, someone was trying to lead me to this very place to find the one thing that was tormenting me that I thought had been lost all those years. I took the car home that day and began cleaning it up for my little Ella. That Christmas, the Barbie Lambo sat in our living room with a big bow on it for her, as if it had been presented to me 20 years ago. 29 years before for my 4th birthday. What a fucking moment as a mommy.

That's next level.

I'm shook by this. I like to—

What are you doing here?

We're just doing our job, man.

This is morbid.

Welcome. I like to think my mom knew how much I was trying to hold onto as much—

Always.

Always.

He's like, you're always doing Listener Tales. It's always morbid.

I'm always here for Listener Tales.

I know we don't bring you up for anything else.

I know. I would love to. Maybe we will. Hmm. Uh, I like to think my mom knew how— energy?

Energy. All right.

Are we giving you a lot of energy or are we taking it?

He was doing the, like, Beyoncé, like, energy.

I like to think my mom knew how much I was trying to hold on to as much as I possibly could of her and was using my dreams to direct me. Or perhaps it was the lovely old tea party ghost ladies trying to help a sister out. Maybe both. Whatever it was, I've not dreamt of the school building since that very day when I finally found that Barbie Lambo. Now it sits nice and snug in my garage, and both of my kids like to tear it up and down the street, while I quite literally fill it with warm— fill with warmth watching them enjoy something I did as a child, and creating memories for them just as my mom did for me. You're gonna kill me. Please enjoy the attached photos of my sweet family, my mama, and an oldie but goodie of me in the Barbie Lambo the very night I got it, with a current photo of my daughter in it just last winter.

Aww!

Thank you both for always keeping it weird, but not so weird that your old ghostly lady self resides in the basement of a preschool and has tea parties with other ghostly old ladies who then help this very same girl they used to scare the shit out of find her long-lost childhood Barbie Lamborghini Power Wheels car to help her cope with the grief of losing her mom, who in fact ends up being the very woman who used to run the school building and hear those ghost tea parties. Me too. Whew. I love you both, you spooky bitches. With the most love, Lori.

Oh, Lori, that was like the sweetest— oh my God.

Barbie Lambo.

Look at that thing. tricked out!

What a badass car!

Look at your '90s outfit!

Oh my God, and you like, souped it up for her! You're— oh my God!

Also, you and your daughter could be twins in those photos, that's crazy!

Oh, and there it is, like, stacked against the shed! That's crazy! I love this!

Oh, look at your family!

Oh my God, you're all adorable! Oh my gosh! Stop it! Oh, Mama!

Oh my God, that was such a heartwarming story!

You know what too, I I know that feeling of being able to share something that you loved when you were little with your kids because I had these, what are they, Big Wheels?

Oh, yeah.

And I got to give one of— my dad had bought one more for one of my other kids, and then they both will Big Wheel it, still Big Wheel it down the driveway.

Yep.

And it's hilarious to see them Big Wheeling it in 2026.

I know.

Because it has the little thing you pull that makes you spin.

I love that.

So you would Big Wheel like crazy, and then you pulled that and you go, just like Skirt.

Yeah, skirt.

That's the original skirt.

They have loved those things. Sorry, I don't want this to go unheard.

Uh, he said, uh, buttocks on the table.

Nicholas, nobody's butt is on the table. Hello? Buttocks on the table? Is it— are— is your buttocks on the table? My feet are on the table. Buttocks on the table. That'd be a good band name. We are Buttocks on the Table!

I just love how proper that is.

Buttocks on the table. I wish it's— I wish he said upon. Buttocks upon the table.

Nicholas, I love you.

Our next tale is I Met a Murderer.

Hey!

And we changed a couple names just in case, so It starts with, I am not a longtime listener, but found you in January of 2022, which like now you kind of are a longtime listener.

Yeah. And you really are. Is it going to be 2027? Yeah. Fuck. I know.

Well, that's when I realized I needed something to entertain myself at work. I love spooky things, true crime, Criminal Minds, Mindhunter, et cetera.

RIP Mindhunter.

Bring it back. So I decided I needed more of this in my life while typing away on a computer and attempting to drown out all the crazy things going on in the office. Lucky for me, I stumbled on you lovely ladies and I was hooked right away due to the way that you explain your cases. Linear is the best. And your lighthearted banter and dark humor. The more content I listened to, the more I loved it. The first few episodes I listened to was the 4-part series on Albert Fish.

Holy shit. You really dove headfirst in.

Yeah, that was a choice. Yeah. Well, in addition to having my mind blown by that series, I found myself laughing out loud and wanting to join in on your conversations. since you could use Gilmore Girls as a reference point, quote Hocus Pocus, Buffy— proud rewatcher as well. And you inspired me to begin watching True Blood.

Yes!

Everybody should watch True Blood.

Love that.

And Boy Meets World, just to name a few.

Underpants! Underpants! Topanga!

Also, you are the only other humans I have ever heard reference Top That from Teen Witch. Oh my God, yes. And I couldn't believe my ears the first time I heard the reference.

Top That. Top That!

I'm hot. You're not. I get those TikToks all the time. Yeah. After my 5th or 6th Listener Tale episode, I was thinking to myself, why hasn't anything weird or spooky happened to me that I could send in? There was that time my friend and I played with the Ouija board during a sleepover and we chatted with a ghost girl who was friendly, but also thought it would be fun to turn on her CD player and rearrange her Beanie Babies. Oh, but that's not exciting.

That's, I don't know.

Sounds kind of exciting to me. Sounds pretty exciting. Well, then there was the episode about I Met a Murderer. And it hit me. My summer encounter with Luke.

Luke, you say?

To give my story—

I'm not stripping, everybody. I have a t-shirt under this. I'm just hot.

Thank you for telling us.

Yeah, I just wanted to let everybody know that I wasn't being weird.

I was like, that was so abrupt. What are you addressing right now? I am not, I'm not, I'm not about that. To give my story a little context, let me explain that I was born in a sleepy mountain town in North Carolina where I lived happily until I was 10 years old and my mom and stepdad dragged us 6 hours north to Nowheresville, Southeast Ohio, to his hometown and his family.

Hmm.

That stinks. Since I was desperately homesick for my uncle, who has since transitioned— I'm only explaining that as it is contextually necessary for understanding how it could be that my uncle had a female roommate from the military— every summer after that move to Ohio, I made a habit of going to my granny's house every summer vacation. My uncle had been in the military and when discharged brought home with them a roommate and a good friend. Let's call her Lynn.

Lynn.

I instantly liked Lynn and thought she was super fun. She was a Korean American, adopted, and had a sense of humor, a love of horror movies, and was really good at braiding hair.

Lynn sounds awesome.

He said, why is she here?

Damn.

Like, Lynn is here because she's super good at braiding hair and she's fun and you can watch horror movies with her.

Yeah, she likes horror movies.

Lynn lived with us for a while before I was dragged to BFE, Ohio, but eventually moved out. When I say us, it was me, my mom, my stepdad, my uncle, and my granny all at Granny's house.

Damn.

An odd Brady Bunch, if you will.

Yeah.

14, I was visiting Granny like usual while she was at work along with my uncle. I lived the teenage dream. I watched TV, I ate too much, slept too much, sunbathed, and spent time helping around the house. Lynn, as she had eventually gotten her own place, would often come by on her days off and take me out to lunch, shopping, or to the movies. This was of course back in the late '90s when it didn't cost a week's paycheck to do all of those things in one day.

I was gonna say, you could easily do those.

Yeah, it's fucking crazy how much things cost right now. One fateful morning, Lynn arrived to pick me up unannounced. No text, no call, just a knock at the door and, hey kid, get ready, let's do something. Ah, the '90s.

It was the '90s.

It was the '90s. Uh, and I was super excited to get out of the house. Did he just say stop?

Shop.

Shop. Oh yeah, you want to shop, Nicholas?

That's what they're doing. Yeah.

We hopped in her pickup truck and set out on the interstate headed for the nearest mall, which was about a 30-minute drive. While walking through the food court, I would literally kill somebody for the teriyaki chicken at the food court.

The Bourbon Street chicken?

Yes, that's what I'm talking about.

That's what I make. That's the bourbon chicken that I make.

I won't kill all of you for it, I promise. Not all of us. Yeah.

No, I took that as Nicholas being like, not all of us want that. Like, Nicholas feels like the type to be like, not all of us, but Nicholas.

My buttocks may be on the But has he enjoyed food court food?

I don't think he knows this, so I think he's like, ugh.

I took the girls to the mall the other day, and I was so tempted to be like, do you want to eat this food court food? But then I was like, can I feed her kids food court food? Are they ready yet? I don't know.

I haven't yet.

I had a feeling you hadn't yet. I already gave one soda accidentally. I don't need to— I don't need to get crazier. And she never lets me forget it. She's like, remember that time when you gave me soda? I'm like, I gave you a sip. And then your mom looked at me like she was gonna wring my neck. All right. So he didn't take them to the food court. No. Uh, so walking through the food court, Lynn recognized someone and stopped to say hi. He had long hair, a flannel shirt on top of a t-shirt, cargo pants, and sneakers. Grungy looking but cool. Kurt Cobain, I Have a Story kind of way. Yeah. However, her acquaintance Luke didn't recall her name and couldn't place her at all. His buddies even said, look at her ink, man, that always helps. She showed him her tattoos and he still didn't seem to recognize her, so he said, Okay, have a great day. Enjoy your Orange Julius. We're on our way.

Oh my God, Orange Julius.

I would also fight somebody for Orange Julius.

Yep.

About 5 minutes later, her friend Luke caught up with us. Now let me explain how she knew Luke. I absolutely loved Lynn, and while she was an awesome person and one of my favorite adults when I was young, she had a lot, a lot of struggles, uh, mentally and emotionally. Several months prior to heading to Granny's for the summer, Lynn had been in a relationship with a man who she thought was her forever person. Unfortunately, they broke up. She took it really hard, so much so that she was actually admitted into a hospital for intensive therapy. That's awful. But I'm glad she got past it.

Yeah.

And like healed. Now this is where she knew Luke from. She had seen him at group therapy and thought he was there for substance abuse at the absolute worst, which I'm assuming is why she thought it was safe to say hi to him while in charge of me, a 14-year-old. Yeah, you're getting a bad feeling.

Yeah, he's like, I don't know about this Luke guy.

Well, Luke walked around the mall with us while we did the usual '90s mall things. We told him we were headed to another mall across town, 15 minutes by highway. 2 malls. 2 malls one day. I don't even know if I've done that, dog. If he wanted to come and get something to eat with us, he could. He said sure. So we headed to her car. Oh my God. Uh-oh. Back in the tiny pickup truck, I had to ride in the middle, quite cozy with both Lynn and Luke. The trip was uneventful for the most part. Thank God.

He said hopefully. Hopefully uneventful.

Hopefully uneventful. I thought Luke was fairly quiet, but we had the windows down on the highway, making it super loud in the cab of the truck, which made it hard to talk anyway. Anyway, as I knew the windows would be down for the highway trip, I made sure I had a hairbrush. I had placed it on the dashboard of the truck and it almost slid off and right out the window. But Luke caught my brush for me and saved me from the ultimate embarrassment of windblown hair at the next location.

Wow, Luke.

I thought to myself, well, he must be nice. Murderers do not catch hairbrushes.

That's a motto to live by.

It's valid.

Murderers don't catch hairbrushes.

No, never. Yeah. After some more shopping and getting a quick lunch, Luke asked if we could take him back to the first mall to meet up with his ride. We dropped them off.

Also, can I interrupt you really quick?

Yeah.

I just thought of the— is it the Wayside School? Like, vampires don't wear polka dots.

Oh my God.

That's the unreleased book, Murderers Don't Catch Hairbrushes.

That's actually so funny that you brought that up. That's the first book that I read when I moved into Ma and Papa's house.

I had that book.

I was literally 15. I didn't have any of my own books, and I looked through your old bookshelf and everything was either too scary or like, I don't even know. And I said, I guess we'll read this little kids' book.

I used to love— I think it's The Wayside School. I'm pretty sure. Is it that or is it The Boxcar Children? No, The Boxcar Children is a whole series. That's actually hilarious that you thought that.

I don't know. You had all of those.

I did. I had all those. What did he say?

Dangerous.

Dangerous.

Dangerous. He said dangerous.

The Boxcar Children was a whole series about literal children who lived in a boxcar of a train.

Oh, I only said that because I just remembered that you had it.

I thought it was The Boxcar Children.

What is it? I think it's the Wayside School.

The Bailey School kids.

There you go.

That's what it was. I knew it was. He just said idiotic.

I think he might be turning on you, Nicholas.

We listen and we don't judge, okay? I don't know what you're reading, but we're in a fight.

Oh, I thought you said this would never happen.

No, it— I did. I said he'd never turn on me. I didn't say we'd never get in a fight. Okay, that's part of any relationship.

It is. It is.

Yeah. The Adventures of the Bailey School. That's why I confused it, like Wayside.

Yeah. Yeah. I mean, it's very similar.

Yeah. There was the Bailey School, uh, like series had the coolest shit.

Yeah.

I'm trying to remember some of them.

You had a lot of them.

Dragons don't cook pizza. Frankenstein doesn't pet plant petunias. Ghosts don't eat potato chips. Murderers don't catch hairbrushes.

Yeah. It could fit right in.

I think it's the unreleased one.

Maybe.

Release it. Release it.

Well, we dropped him off. We headed back to Granny's house where Lynn dropped me off. I thanked her, enjoyed my purchases from the candy store, and didn't think much of the day.

Uh-oh.

Until—

I'm very worried.

I'm nervous. A few days later, I was chilling at Granny's house per usual. She'd just gotten home from work and was reading the paper while I watched TV in the living room. Not sure why, but something made me look in her direction, and just as she was adjusting her newspaper, the front page came into perfect view. At first it was just recognition. Then my whole body seemed to start tingling. That's called a womp.

Yep.

Womp. Then something washed over me. It felt like when you open the deep freeze and blast yourself in the summer, but with nausea. My cheeks started to feel really hot as I read the headline by the photo that I recognized. 2 men arrested, mother and child killed on parkway.

Oh.

I studied the photo as long as I could without being obvious, and finally I said, Granny, can I have that paper when you're finished? She peered over the newspaper at me and said, oh, do you want the horoscopes or the comics? That woman knew me so well. She was surprised when my response was, actually, this article on the front. This photo looks familiar. So casual, like I wasn't trying to regulate my fight or flight at that moment and sound super casual in my interest about the murder article. She looked perplexed and said, oh, I'm sure you haven't, darling. He was in the mental hospital and now he's murdered a young woman and her son, she said dismissively. You're probably right, Granny, I replied, trying to hide my absolute certainty that I did in fact see Luke just days before, and he— and was trying to figure out if I needed to call the local police or FBI and how I would ever explain this to my mother.

Oh man.

It just so happened that very same day my uncle and Lynn had been together. I can't remember exactly why, but I want to say it was for a favor involving Lynn's pickup truck and something heavy. When I heard them pull in, I grabbed the newspaper and met them at the door. I didn't want to say anything in the event that I was really wrong and that was not my new friend Luke, grunge guy and hairbrush rescuer. I handed the newspaper to Lynn and she immediately recognized the photo, stared at it and then back at me, then opened the paper and started reading the article. Then we had to explain to my uncle what the hell this meant and why we were rendered basically speechless. The article made it clear that Luke and his accomplice were in custody, so we did not need to contact the police and share our adventure.

Well, that's good. I was worried. Yeah. I was like, ah.

The location of the crime was not near where we had traveled with him. And if the timeline was accurate, we were with him prior to this crime being committed. Oh, that's almost scary.

That's really scary.

I couldn't stop thinking about it all summer.

You dislike.

And while I wanted to tell someone, my uncle made it clear my mother would freak the fuck out.

Oh my God.

So we all decided to keep it to ourselves.

No, you can't have a secret.

Secrets are no fun. It would have been such a good story to share on the first day of 9th grade. Yeah, way better than my usual summer vacation stories. Yep. But to make sure I never let it slip out, I basically buried the experience. It was actually several years later until even my uncle brought it up at all.

Oh, there was a fly. A fly!

A fly just flew into my face. It was Nicholas. That was wild. It was like, it was like one of those fruit flies. I was like, get out of here. Uh, anyways, uh, it wasn't actually, uh, it was actually several years later, and he said, look for me. Are you a fly?

I literally just said it's probably Nicholas. Look for me.

That's almost a little ominous though.

That's actually really ominous, Nicholas. But I'll look for you.

Yeah, we will.

I'll go with it.

We look for you everywhere.

We do.

Until my uncle— say, I remember you.

Yeah.

We remember you, Nicholas.

Nicholas, what's up? What's going on?

What's going on?

Tell us more.

Tell us everything.

Tell us about yourself, Nicholas.

So the uncle took a long time to bring it up. So for a very long time, I really did forget this experience ever happened to me.

Damn.

I will lose my literal mind if you ever pick my story to share, and I will have to squeal and jump up and down at my desk, which I'm sure will not please any of my coworkers or my supervisors.

Tell them to get the fuck over it.

Yeah, tell them to foff. I have linked some articles about where Luke is now and the original story I saw in the local paper. I've also attached some photos of me, my family, and my pets because I know you just love cute kids and small animal pictures. Keep it weird, but not so weird that you spend the day shopping with a murderer. And maybe don't introduce a 14-year-old to somebody who you met at a mental hospital during group who is now just chilling in the mall looking like Kurt Cobain.

It's very valid.

You know that is valid.

Uh, damn. And I think those are links to the—

those are the— oh my God, your cat!

And on a Six blanket.

You have great taste.

You do.

Oh, you do! Oh my God, that face would have been so cute.

You guys know how to get us. And Buffy and a steak.

Another puppy! Is that a puggle? That kind of looks like Bubba.

Is that a puggle?

That definitely is a puggle for sure.

Does that go— That's— I knew it was, I knew it was Mr. Pointy.

Oh shit, that's cool. Oh, and look at your family. This is the second Disney photo we've received.

I know, what are you guys doing to me?

What are you guys doing to me? I want to go back to Disney so bad. There's Liam.

There's Luke.

There's you, I think.

Oh, and you're at Labcraft.

Yeah. Say, what is it?

It said message.

Message? Do you have a message in a bottle? Okay. Huh!

That's weird.

He's like, read your message, Amy.

Message in a bottle!

This next headline is insane!

Um...

What?

Okay. The time a Christmas elf prevented an abduction.

Period. Period.

Period. Hello, ladies!

Hi!

First of all, you two are absolutely amazing, and I truly love your show!

Thank you!

Thank you! The only regret is that I just discovered your show, but at least it means I have a large backlog of shows to binge. We have like, 800 episodes. There's a lot There's a lot there. Right now I'm up to early 2020, and I'm not gonna lie, my heart is breaking because you two are so excited about your upcoming live shows, and I know the world is about to shut down. I'm excited to hear what happens, and I really hope you were able to reschedule all of your live shows because you two are a gift to the world. Thank you so much for that. We didn't reschedule even one of them. Any of them. So thank you.

And our management is like, you sure that you don't want to cancel?

They were like, wow, that sucked. Anyways, I really hope you are still doing Listener Tales. We are. Hey, here we are. But if not, hopefully this tale at least entertains you. It will. My name is Steve. Feel free to use my real name. What's up, Steve?

Steve.

And back in high school, I was a total theater geek.

Can I try?

Me too. Can I try? Can you try? You can say Steve. Nicholas is like, can I try what you guys are doing? I think I can do it better.

Yeah. Maybe he wants to go for it.

Give it a try. So you were a total theater geek. So was I. As well, every Christmas I would dye my hair half red and half green because I fucking love the holidays.

Love that.

One of my fellow students' parents hired myself to play an elf at their Christmas party, and my drama teacher to play Santa since he was a jolly large man.

Absolutely iconic.

They even rented me a costume, and it was a ton of fun. The party ended late, and I was driving home around midnight through the affluent part of town. There were literally no other cars on the road, which in retrospect should have triggered my spidey sense, but whatever. I was a young, dumb kid. I was stopped at a red light when I heard a blood— or I heard blood-curdling screams. I looked over to my left, and I see a man literally dragging a woman by her hair across the street to a car parked on the other side of the street. Oh my God. As I liked to say back then, I have a divine sense of justice and ass-kicking. So I ran the red light. You have no idea how much it killed me to break the law like that. Sped over to help this woman. Thankfully, my parents had given me a cell phone for emergencies. It was the late '90s. So I called 911.

We're not gonna leave you.

No, we won't leave you. And I started honking my horn like mad. I pulled up behind the waiting car as he had already made it there and was shoving her into the backseat. Oh my God. You're a badass for doing this, by the way.

For real.

I turned on my bright— my brights and continued honking my horn. He stared at me with pure hatred and looked like he was about to come for me. Luckily, I don't think he could see me clearly because I have never been a big person. I think I was around 5'2 or 3 at this time. and he could have easily beaten me to a pulp. In my memory, he was a beast of a man, but in reality, he was probably pretty average.

I bet he was below average.

Yeah. Fate was on my side, and he instead threw her out of the car and sped off.

Oh my God.

I got out of my— out to check on her, and she seemed physically okay, but was obviously shaken up. At this point, the dispatcher told my— me police were on their way and to sit tight. I tried my best to comfort her, but one, she just had a very traumatic experience with a male, so she probably didn't want to be around a strange male. And 2, I'm still dressed like an elf, so she was probably thinking I'm completely nuts and mentally unstable. Spoiler alert, I was and still am.

Can you imagine? Like, you're such a good Samaritan, but imagine as a woman going through this.

And then a man dressed as an elf. It's just like, you're okay. I'd be like, I'm not.

I'd be like, don't touch me.

I'd be like, I'm not okay.

No, please.

But you're a very amazing person for this.

Did he say I'm a turtle?

Eternal? Eternal.

I mean, eternal. I thought he said, I'm a turtle.

That feels like a ghost line.

I was literally just gonna say that.

Tobias? Yeah. I'm like, all right, Nicholas. Uh, first of all, you're amazing for doing this. And second of all, you're amazing for being so self-aware to know that she probably was uncomfortable by that.

And to leave the situation.

That's something a lot of people wouldn't be aware of. Um, and I love the, I, I was and still am mentally unstable.

Oh, real.

This entire time, not a single car passes by, but I did see a man coming up the hill towards us pushing a shopping cart. At this point, my adrenaline is fully pumping, so I put myself between her and the guy. Oh, he's very clearly on drugs, and he comes up to me and says, do you like crack?

You are dressed like an elf, which, like, it's a choice. So he just wanted to include even Santa's helpers do like crack.

I don't know, maybe this guy isn't—

He said, he said, you kind of look like you're on crack. He said, he just said, he said, I see you. Also, his hair is half red and half green.

The crack in me sees the crack in you.

The crack in me sees the crack in you. Oh, Arnor, we're gonna get flagged on YouTube. I'm screaming.

Oh, I love completely not expecting that, but it seemed pretty on par with the evening looking back. I simply say no.

No. It's even just— no. Do you like crack?

No.

No.

I'm literally crying. My makeup, my '90s makeup is going to be literally everywhere.

I know. I was just thinking that.

I have straight up tears running down my face.

I smoked this out too.

Oh my God.

Oh man.

I'm going to look like I just watched Romeo and Juliet, the Baz Luhrmann version, and that I know I can't ever be with Leonardo DiCaprio.

Oh, the heartbreak for all of us right now.

Oh, okay. So I simply said no. He then smiles broadly and says, I shit you not, well, I do.

Good. He was just striking up a conversation. He said, like, he said icebreakers. Do you like crack? I love it. You have to get to know each other.

He found something out about you, you found something out about him. At this point, I see police lights in the distance speeding towards us.

Also, this poor woman, an elf, um, attempted abduction, and then somebody on crack.

And the guy saw the lights and says, oops, gotta go, and runs off with his shopping cart into the night.

I wish him the very best. I wish him the very best. I hope— oops, gotta go. I hope, I hope he's slipping.

Oh my God. The police show up, and not unexpectedly, they seemed extremely skeptical of me, and I can't blame them. After questioning, uh, not surprisingly, she knew the asshole who tried to kidnap her. Oh yeah, one other detail. Being winter in Arizona, it was a little chilly. So as the adrenaline started wearing off and I was starting to feel cold, I told police I was going to get my jacket out of the car. They kept their lights shined on me and in my car the whole time. And I pull out my classic black emo trench coat that all the cool kids had at the time.

Whoa.

Blame The Matrix. I'm quite positive the whole aesthetic of elf with multicolor hair and the black trench coat totally made me seem super legit and credible.

Even just trying to picture that image in my head is hard to conjure.

I don't know. Yeah, even Nicholas doesn't know. For reference, I ended up becoming a physician, so even weirder kids can grow up to be professionals. Though I never fully grew up and I'm still a weird kid at heart.

Oh yeah.

You are amazing, Steve. We love you, Steve. The police escorted her away and I was free to go. I don't know what ended up happening to the woman, sadly, but I really hope she's safe, healthy, and thriving.

I can tell you one thing, that woman thinks of you every week.

Yeah, absolutely.

At least.

And I, I love that. Anyways, that's my tale. Sorry for the length, but I hope it was entertaining.

It was.

Keep it weird, but not so weird that you end up trying to kidnap a girl, but you have to get stopped by some punk kid dressed as an elf and then hesitate, but decide to run away like the little bitch you are. And then a crack-fueled stranger comes up and stresses you out further when you are already full of adrenaline. And then the cops think you're super suspicious because you look like some weird emo Christmas conglomeration. Don't keep it that weird. Thanks so much for your time.

I think you might need to keep it that weird, to be honest with you.

I haven't cried that much.

That was a good one. In a long time. That was a good one. Oh, this picture—

That was really funny.

That whole story felt like I was on drugs.

The visuals that came along with that story were like top-notch.

Top-notch.

Top fucking notch.

All right, one more?

Oh, Steve. Yeah. Okay.

Tale. And the next tale is—

Tale.

Tale as old as time.

You sounded like you were starting the Midnight Society. Tale as old as time. Tale of the Grinning Whatever.

Yeah, Tale of the Traveling Ouija Board.

There you go.

Hey, Ash and Alayna.

Hi. Hi.

First off, I just want to say you absolutely have permission to use my name. Hell yeah, it's Amanda.

Amanda.

Amanda. And I'm a huge fan. I've been listening to you guys religiously since last year. I loved the podcast so much that I actually went all the way back to the very beginning, even the episodes where it sounded like you were recording underwater.

You're a real one. You are.

Honestly, it's still amazing to listen to.

Oh, thank you.

Sometimes I think about the fact that my children someday will listen to early episodes of Morbid and that I was 22 at the time we recorded them, and it does make me want to drown myself.

Yeah. I mean, the evolution is nice, though.

It is. Both of us, I think. Yeah, I think so.

It's a nice little growth.

Yeah. Lots of growth.

As humans.

Lots of growth. The pipeline from 22 to 30, and even probably 30 to—

30 to 40, you go, Oh, 30. Yeah. I didn't know shit.

I think I know a little bit more than the beginning of this though. Oh yeah. But then I'll hear your story.

But then you're gonna be 40 and you're gonna say, I didn't know shit.

Oh man.

Yeah. It's nuts.

Well, quick little side note before I get into my story, Ash, both of my kids actually had the exact same due date and it just so happens to be your birthday.

Yay.

We love a Gemini. My son ended up being 8 days late. 8 days late. 8 days late. Sheila. 8 days late, Sheila. My daughter was 4 days late. Geminis, Geminis, Geminis. They're 7 years apart, but still both my little Geminis. Meanwhile, I was born later in June.

Did you say fun?

I said father. Father? Is your father a Gemini, Nicholas? I think my father is a Pisces. Yours isn't a Gemini either.

No, mine is a—

technically he's a Pisces, but I kind of consider him an Aries. Yeah. Anyways, meanwhile, I was born later in June, so I'm a Cancer. If you actually end up reading this, I'll probably shit my pants. Don't worry though, I'll have a change of underwear ready.

Good change.

Okay, now let's get into my story about the time my parents bought my sister and I a Ouija board for Christmas.

Those are cool parents.

I was 11 years old and I was— and my sister was 9 the Christmas my mom and dad bought it for us. Looking back now, I honestly don't know what possessed them to buy it.

Maybe they just thought it was a harmless board game.

It was cool then. Yeah. Maybe they didn't really believe in that kind of stuff, or maybe they figured we would play with it once and forget about it like we did with half of our other toys.

That's probably what they thought, actually.

Well, we didn't forget.

No.

I still remember tearing the wrapping paper off the box. The board inside looked mysterious. A black background, faded letters, numbers, yes, no, and a word at the bottom that would eventually haunt me: goodbye.

Goodbye.

The planchette was light plastic, heart-shaped, with a small window in the center. It didn't look scary. That was the problem. That night, after the house was quiet and our parents were watching TV, downstairs, my sister and I dragged it into our bedroom. We shared a room back then. 2 twin beds pushed against opposite walls, a narrow window between them, and a closet door that never shut properly.

Ooh.

I feel that's called foreshadowing. It always sat slightly open, just enough to make you stare at it a little too long at night. We turned off the main light and left only the small bedside lamp on. The glow made the room feel secret and important. We sat cross-legged on the floor, fingertips barely touching the planchette.

Guest?

Guest.

I knew he— he's like, this sounds scary.

He's like, I'm terrified.

I'm terrified.

I'm terrified. Is anyone here? My sister whispered. Nothing. We looked at each other and tried not to laugh. You're pushing it, I said. I'm not, she shot back.

Oh, that's the classic conversation you have when you get a Ouija board.

It was moving slowly, smoothly, not like a jerk from somebody nudging it. It glided. We go— we both gasped and instinctively tried to pull our hands away, but we didn't. Instead, we leaned in closer.

Yeah.

That was the first mistake. For weeks after that, the board became our nightly ritual.

You two are awesome.

I also feel like you're probably not closing the door, which is like not good. Like the— you're not safe. You know, like the portal.

Yeah.

We would rush through homework and dinner just to get back to our room and ask more questions. At first it was harmless stuff. What grade would we get in math? Would we get a dog? Would we ever meet a celebrity? But then we started asking bigger questions. Is there someone here with us? Are you dead? What's your name? Sometimes it was random letters, sometimes it moved in circles, sometimes it stopped abruptly on goodbye before we were finished. We told ourselves it was our imaginations until the house changed. It started subtly— footsteps in the hallway when everyone was downstairs, the sound of pacing back and forth outside of our bedroom door after midnight.

Huh.

My dad would check and find nothing. He'd shrug it off as the furnace or the But furnaces don't walk.

That is something really against his argument.

Yeah.

I would say.

Furnaces are famous for not walking.

They famously don't walk.

Then came the shadows.

Oh.

You'd catch something move out the corner of your eye, a shape slipping past the doorway, a flicker crossing the wall. But then you turn your head and nothing was there.

That happens to us in this house all the time.

That has—

Especially in the kitchen.

That has started happening to me in my house, and the shadow is in the kitchen. Yeah.

Yeah. Uh-uh. So that's fun. Yeah.

Last night I kept seeing something out of the corner of my eye in that back room.

Yep.

Walking into that back room.

That's what we always get. We'll be sitting watching TV and both of us will turn to look over because we think—

Hide.

Hide. Yeah. Honestly.

Actually bite.

Bite.

Bite. Okay. Hate that more.

That's somehow worse. But both of us look over and we always think it's one of the girls coming down and we'll always look at each other and be like, Did you see something? And he's like, yep. I hate that. And it's always something coming from the hallway into the kitchen and just walking through. And we always think it's one of the girls.

I've seen that in your house before at night.

And it's so clear in my periphery.

Yeah. I like how you say that. Periphery. Periphery. I like that. Yeah. Thank you. You're welcome. I feel like nobody ever says that. They always just say my peripheral. Yeah. You're fancy.

Thank you.

And the feeling, the constant crawling feeling that you were not alone even when you were. One afternoon, I was in my room by myself, playing with my toys. The house was completely quiet, my sister was outside, my parents were at work. Side note, the '90s were wild, just leaving your kids home alone.

They sure were.

Haha, out of nowhere, my alarm clock started blasting music. Oh, I hate that! Not softly, full volume. I jumped so hard, I knocked over the toy in my hand. The strange part? My alarm clock wasn't plugged into the wall.

No, that's not good. Ew, I have chilies, like gross chilies.

I stared at it from across the room, my heart hammering. Uh, the cord was wrapped neatly behind it, not even close to an outlet. I tried to think logically. All right, maybe it has batteries. I walked over slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last. Picked it up, flipped it over. No batteries.

No batteries. No. God, I was just gonna say it.

No batteries. There wasn't even a compartment for them. The music stopped on its own a few seconds later. The silence afterward was worse than the noise. I stood there frozen, goosebumps covering every inch of my arms, feeling like something invisible had just looked me straight in the face and smiled.

Ooh!

I didn't tell my parents. I didn't even tell my sister right away. Saying it out loud would make it real. But then there was the doll.

Oh.

Don't leave.

He's like, I'm scared now.

He said, sit down for this. My sister had this doll she loved, the kind with plastic eyelids that open when upright and close when you lay them down. I fucking hate those things. She carried it everywhere, or so I assumed, because it kept showing up in different spots around the house. Sitting upright on the couch, propped against the hallway wall, once sitting at the kitchen table as if it was placed there to watch.

Hate it.

Every time I mentioned it, my sister would say she must have just forgotten she left it there, and I believed her until one night. Did he say, I told him?

I told him. He's like, I told him.

I told— he told Adam.

Yeah, he told Adam that. What did you tell Adam? What did you tell Adam? Let us know, write in.

I don't know what woke me up. Maybe it was a noise, maybe it was the heavy feeling in the room again, but my eyes opened suddenly. I looked across the dark room toward my sister's bed. The only light came from the moon through the window, and I shit you not, her doll was lying on its side beside her pillow. But its eyes were wide open. Not halfway, not flickering, wide open, staring directly at me.

I hate that so much.

You know what that moment is? Shit your pants. Shit, shit your pants. Here we go. Shit your pants.

Shit, shit your pants. Get out. Leave.

My chest tightened. Leave. Get out. Leave. My chest tightened so fast I thought I would scream, but no sound came out. That's the worst. I would die.

Okay.

I just lay there staring back at it. Those dolls close their eyes when they're horizontal.

Sure do.

That's how they're made.

Yep.

But this one was not closed. It felt intentional, like it knew I was awake.

Oh!

I pulled my blanket over my head and did not move until the next morning. The next day, when the sun made everything seem stupid and harmless again, I picked up the doll and lay it on its side. Its eyes slid shut immediately. She's not here. She's not here.

No.

She— oh my God, she's not here because the eyes actually shut this time.

Yeah, she's gone.

I felt sick because I knew what I had seen. The atmosphere in our house grew even heavier after that. Even my parents started mentioning strange things. My mom said she heard someone call her name when no one was home. My dad said tools in the garage would be moved from where he left them. Nobody connected it out loud, but my sister and I knew.

This is so ominous.

It really is. Eventually, my parents decided we were moving to Alberta, Canada. A fresh start, a new job opportunity, a new We were leaving Manitoba behind. As we cleaned out the house before the move, we found the Ouija board tossed behind our toy bin. Neither of us had touched it in weeks. It felt wrong to even look at it. Without saying much, my mom decided to throw it in the trash. Not packed, not donated, thrown away.

Eek.

I don't think that's how you're supposed to do that.

Probably not.

Uh, we drove all the way back to Albertus. Boxes— Albertus. I just— we drove all the way back to Alberta. Boxes. I was like looking at boxes in my head. been stacked, so it just became Alberta's boxes stacked in the U-Haul, saying goodbye to everything familiar. The new house felt lighter at first. I don't like that you said at first. It was empty, clean. But within days, the same feeling crept back in. Shadows, soft footsteps, that presence. Damn, that reminds me of the Paranormal Activity, like the one that's playing now. It's like, uh, places aren't haunted, people are. I hate that.

That play is so good.

It's so good. It's still fucking Yep. We blamed it on stress, on adjusting, on imagination. Finally, after days of unpacking, there was only one box left. My dad sliced it open, and believe it or not, sitting right on the very top was the Ouija board.

But you threw it away.

Like it had been carefully placed there. The same scratches on the corner of the box, the same bent edge, the one my mom threw in the trash in Manitoba. No one spoke. My mom went pale. My sister immediately looked at me. My dad just stared at all of us in disbelief, wondering who packed it when my mom clearly told him she threw it away. But we hadn't packed it. Nobody did. We saw my mom throw it in the garbage, but somehow it had traveled over 1,000 kilometers with us from Manitoba to Alberta.

To Albertus.

To Albertus.

All the way.

All the way to Albertus. Like it had chosen to follow us. That was the moment I felt true fear. Not the kind where you jump and laugh afterward. Not the kind you can explain away. The kind that settles into your bones. We never touched it again.

I don't like it.

We didn't end— we did end up moving again to a nice, beautiful home. We cleansed the fuck out of it, and nothing quote unquote crazy happened in that home. I don't know who got rid of it or how. I don't know where it ended up. But I know this: when I say I will never use a Ouija board again, I mean it. Because some things aren't games. Except maybe naked twister in the shower. Honey, honey, you're getting crazy in these streets.

He was literally doing this, and he went—

Aiden said, what?

I'm sorry, what?

He said, that's, that's silly, girl. Damn.

What did he say?

That didn't happen. When did it happen?

Nicholas said, pictures or did it happen?

When did you play naked Twister in the shower? Also, would you play clothed Twister in the shower?

He said, I need a timeline.

Oh shit. Naked Twister in the shower could probably kill you.

Yeah, don't do that.

Well, that's my story. I really do hope you both enjoyed it. Sorry if it was a little wishy-washy. Change whatever you need to. And thanks again for potentially taking the time to read it.

Holy shit.

I am so terrified by that. I literally can't handle it.

I'm shooketh.

I hate that a lot.

I hate that a whole lot.

My, oh my, you people are fucked.

Keep them coming. I love these.

Yeah, please. You know where to send them. MorbidPodcast@gmail.com. Deb Deb will find it if you're It's true. Well, we hope you keep listening.

And we hope you keep it weird.

But not as weird as any of the stories here. Or, you know, maybe do keep it that weird, because if you keep it that weird, then we might read it on the podcast.

Yeah, don't— we—

Barbie Lamborghini though.

Barbie Lamborghini for sure.

And Elf.

And Elf. Yeah, yeah, definitely do that.

Don't do crack. Don't do that. Yeah, bye. Bye.