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the sun nowhere, not because it's the sun. The sun really sucks the
son. It steals my powers. I'm reverse Superman. I was Mortal Man.
Now I can't dejection. I am still on a singing tear reverse Superman.
Oh I hate the Sun. Yeah, Hi, everybody, I'm David
Flora. I am David Steka Son hate and David Flora. Yeah I am.
I want to be a cave dweller. And you know what, but
I spend more time in the sun that I want to. I ride my
bike, I played. I played volleyball yesterday. Idiot. Yeah it was
an idiot move. Do I shave my beard off because there's too much sand
in it and I got so tired of like trying to get it all out,
as like, get the beard's coming off. Yeah, I actually like
volleyball. Hashtag summer problem, hashtaghtag trailer. Welcome to you, blurry photos
everybody. We man, we're gonna have fun with this one. Don't come
here looking for a bunch of a learning and a but we we kind of
put that in the description of the podcast. We're like, you're gonna learn
something with We're gonna learn something weird. Remember that this time. I remember
when that was our Hey learn something weird. We used to do that,
yeah, real creepily. Yeah, we used to get arrested a lot that.
I used to smell their hair. Hey, learn something weird. What
are you pushing me for? What you who whoa whoa whoa whoa. I
was just sniffing your hair, apricots. No, okay, uh, We're
just gonna have fun in this episode. We're just having fun. It's just
having fun. We're having fun. We're talking about camp fire ghosts, can
fire ghost stories called the baitch our Gigger. Yeah, just uh you know,
once a year we get Gigger, let loose and go frog Giger and
get gigger with it. Tell some tell some silly stories. A lot of
these are they're terrifying. Are just don't row this episode. If it if
it's dark out, you need like high noon, middle of a baseball field
friends. Yeah, God's sake, you need all the support you can get
because of the emotional haft of these stories. Just halft. Yeah, you
you prepare yourself mentally. If you haven't yet paused the episode, yep,
i'll And we're back. But but we've we've got some picked out, you
know, like like we do. I feel like we're gonna get back to
our roots a little on this one. The roots are our ruts. Yeah,
like so yeah, we're just we're just gonna have fun, tell some
story. And is that If that's too intense for you, then go well
if you if you're if you've got to stick up your butt, then yeah,
we're just having fun. I want to do is keeping a real because
we're keeping a real because we're keeping a real So I guess since since we've
paused and I'm thinking about it, everybody, take a minute to go over
to our blurry photos fan page on Facebook. Oh God, that thing's awesome.
Clairvoyant Katie set that up and it is populated by some of the nicest
people on earth. That's right. Join the blurry ever ranks on there.
I think they post stories and stuff to each other. You can also talk
about it. Yeah, yeah, just it only hurts my feelings stuff.
So yeah, go over and hit them up. Join that group. And
it's kind of like, you know, a lot of people have said,
hey, set up a forum on your side or something. This is a
good in between for that that. Yeah, i'd a good way to interact
with other readers. We as we We just had our our live chat last
night, yes this reporting. Um. We were talking about like how we
there's a lot of things that we still want to add and do, but
we we have not bitten off more than we can chew. But we've bitten
off as much as we can chew. We are chewing as hard as we
can. We're we're swallowing and subsequently pooping out product. Yeah, yeah,
I'm feeling good. I feel like I'm getting caught up. Yeah, at
least May was a tough month. Was a very tough month. We had
we had all the Patreon stuff, plus we had the Miss Cryptic contest.
Plus Flora was in rehab for a few days, and then and then when
he got out of that, right back into dhab, which you know you
should have noted. We we had talked about not discussing on the bad my
bad, but okay, Yeah, but June, June's been nice. June's
been a nice catch up. Bonus track is on its way out for for
May. Yeah, they're Oh. One thing I want to throw out there
the podcast Awards. Oh yeah, we didn't win, no way. We
are quickly becoming the Leonardo DiCaprio of podcasts. Yeah that's okay, we get
more attention for that. There was another podcast that deals in paranormal stuff and
also fancies themselves jokesters who won. Oh no way, so they're better than
us, I guess so yeah, so be it. I guess it used
to be that NASA just kicked our ass. Now anybody can line up and
do it. Yeah, yeah, so be it. We're the darlings of
the indie circuit. But hitk you off for voting. To take you guys
so much to go into that and cast your your votes collectively and individually.
But let's let's get to the front. Yeah, I just figured i'd ask
and there. No, it's good, all right. This one's called raw
head and bloody balls. I can read it like that. It's just,
oh, come on, that's a lawn. Why did you do your New
Orleans accent? Everybody loves it? Oh god, yeah, people get so
mad at us, like for weird, Like yeah, we just we're just
being silly. This story I'll be read in a New Orleans accent. Make
sure to get you'all snuckleballs back and a deep bay, a scrawn a old
woman who had a reputational hall being the best can woman in the Ozarks.
There's there's regionality in here. Oh can't be. It's got a baby in
the arts. Yeah, it's so lucky. You better put that snuckaball on
vana sausage away. See. The thing is, we've been doing that forever
because way back in what what was it that we wanted or swamp, Yeah
it was or Honey Island swamp Monsters. Is little video of somebody in New
Orleans that was or just outside that was like, uh yeah, giving tours
on Honey Island, and he's like, yeah, sometimes we go on down
here and get the We just get a seal, a snuckaball and Vienna sausage.
We just go on here on the swamp and yeah, we honey on
a small monster like like those are the like, oh, I'm going for
a hike, Honey, do we have any snicker bars in Vienna Sausages?
And from then on, Dave and I have been like, yeah, Hey,
that's that's it. That's our cajn accent right there, snuck a ball
in Vana. All right, let's let's just do some stories. Here's man
New Orleans has like sixteen accents. Yeah, and they all are beyond my
capability. Half of you sound like you're from Jars eight. Yeah, Ryan,
down here, where's your accent? Tough guy, Josh, didn't hear
much accent out of you, sir, Huh. Anyway, you guys are
awesome. Um, we don't give us. We love it when you get
mad at us. Yep, who cares. Way back in the deep woods,
they're lived a scrawny old woman. I'm gonna need some kind of accent.
Well, I'm gonna need some kind of accent. Way back in the
date woods, they're lamped a scrawny old woman. He at her reputation for
being the beth Condurin woman in the old arc. She had her bedraggled black
and gray hair, funny ass one with yellow on the other with green,
and her crooked nose. All Betty with not a pre a picture. But
she was the best. There was that fixing what ailed a man. Oh,
and that was all that counted. Old Betty Bamboolam's house was full of
herbs and roots and bottled filled with conjuring medicine. The walls were lined with
strange books brimming with magical spells. Old Betty was the only one living in
the hollow who knew how to read, on account of her granny, who
was also a conjurer, had taught her the skill as a part of her
magical training. Rich just about the only friend Old Betty had, with a
tough, mean old razor back hog that ran wild round her place. It
rooted so much in her kitchen garbage that all the left over fells started affecting
it. Some folks swore up and down with the old razorback hog sometimes walked
upright like a man. One fellow claimed he thinged the pigs sitting in the
rocker and Old Betty's porch, chattering away to her while she stowed up some
potions in the kitchen. What everyone diathcount of that story? On account I
have a fellow told it with a little too fall in the moonshine and even
drunk. Am I getting a little Betty ever saw here? It's a it's
a mixture of that in Boone County. Yeah, bludlyther f blacked raw Head
with the name Old Betty gave the razor back, referring maybe to the way
the ugly creature looked a bit like some dead pigs come butchering time down and
the hogs scaled hollow. That's where you go to scald a hog. The
razorback didn't mind the funny name. Raw Head kept following Old Betty around her
a little cabin and rooting up the kitchen leftovers. He'd even walked to town
with her when she came to the local mercantile to fell her home. Remedies
well folks in town. Guy so used to seeing Raw heading Old Betty around
town that it looked might a strange One day, around hog driving time,
when Old Betty came to the mercantile without him. Oh where's Raw? Had
the owner aft as she accepted her basket full of home remedy potions. The
liquid in the bottle twished in an agitated manner at Old Betty said, I
ain't seen him around today, and I'm might away you seen him here in
town? Nobody seen him around today. They would have told me if they
did. The mercantile owner said, we'll keep a lookout for you. That's
mighty kind of you. If you see him, tell it to come home
straight away, Old Betty said. The mercantile owner nodded in agreement. If
he handed over her weekly pay, Old Betty fuss to herself all the way
home. It wasn't like Raw had to disappear, especially not on the day
they went to town. The man at the mercantile always saved the best scraps
for the mean old razor back, and Raw had never missed a visit.
When the old conjuring woman got home, she mixed up a potion and poured
it onto a flat plate. Where's that old Hall got to she asked theod.
It clouded over, and then a series of pictures formed. First Old
Betty saw that good for nothing hunter that lived on the next ridge sneaking around
the forest a bit, rounding up razor back hogs. What didn't belong to
him? They don't belong to you. One of the hogs was the raw
Head. Then she saw him taking the hogs where well hogs called hollow,
where folks from the next town were slaughtering their razorbacks. Then she saw her
hog, raw Head Casey forgot his name. Raw had slaughtered with the rest
of the pigs and hung up for gutting. The final picture in the liquid
was the pile of bloody bones that had once been her hog and his straight
clean headline with the other hogs heads in a pile. Old Betty was infuriated
by the death of her only friend. There was a murder to her playing
and simple. Everyone in three counties knew that raw had was her friend,
and that lazy hogs ste good for nothing hunter on the ridge with gonna pay
for slaughtering him. Thought about putting another name in there. Changed my mind
too filthy. It implied what he did with the hogs with his pain.
We all know, okay, we know now. Old Betty tried to practice
white conjuring most of the time on account of her Nathan racism, but she
knew the dark secrets too. She pulled out an old secret buck her granny
had given her and turned to the very last page, where it said guten
nobbing thanken zie a hitler. I assume that it was mine camp That's not
what it did. She lit several candles and put them around the plate containing
the liquid picture of raw head and at the bloody bones. Then she began
to chant, heading, bloody bone, raw head, and bloody bone.
The lat from the window disappeared as if the sun had been snuffed out like
a candle. Dark clouds billet into the clearing where Old Betty's cabin stood,
and the howl of dark spirits could be heard in the wind. What pummeled
the tree tops, raw Head and bloody bodes Rawhead blady that it continued to
chant in shortle and shake her giant g owls until a bolt of silver lightning
left the plate and streaked out through the window, heading in the direction of
the hog scaled hollow. When the silver light struck raw Head severed head,
which was piled on the hunter's wagon with the other hogheads. It tumbled to
the ground and rolled it to was touching the bloody bones that had once inhabited
its body. As the hunter's wagon rumbled away towards the ridge where he lived,
the enchanted raw Head called out. Immediately, the bloody bones reassembled themselves
into the skeleton of a razor back hall, walking upright, as raw Head
had often done when he was alone with Old Betty. The head hopped on
top of the skeleton, and raw Head went searching through the woods for weapons
to use against the hunter. He borrowed the sharp teeth of a dying panther,
which was convenient, the claws of a long dead bear, which he'd
been saving for a special occasion, and the tail from a rotted raccoon that
you know ronestly who didn't have one of those at that time, and put
them on his skinned head and bloody bones. Then raw Head headed up the
track towards the ridge, looking for the hunter what had flattered him. Raw
had slipped past the thief on the road and slid into the barn where the
hunter kept his horse and wagon. Well, old raw Head climbed up into
the loft and waited for the hunter to come home. It was dust when
the hunter drove into the barn and unhitched his horse. The horse snorted in
fear, setting the presence of raw Head in the loft probably also, wait
a minute, it's razorback that walks on two legs with bare claws. It's
a man bear pig with panther pieces, with a sprinkle of panther pieces,
and raccoon and giblet. Wondering what was disturbing his usually calm horse, the
hunter looked around and saw a pair of large eyes staring down at him from
the darkness of the loft. The hunter frowned, thinking it was one of
the local kids fooling around in his barn. Wonder what have you got those
big us for, he snapped, thinking the kids were trying to scare him
with some crazy mast. Raw Head creaked weirdly. The hunter snorted, irritable
and put his horse into the stall. Very funny, oh, the hunter
said. Then he came out of the stall, he saw raw Head had
crept forward a bit further now with luminous yellow eye than its bare claws could
clearly be seen when degot, shit, what have you got those big claws
for? He snapped, you look ridiculous? Raw Head in toned softly,
his voice said, squeaky nightmare. That raised the hairs on the back of
the hunter's neck. He stirred uneasily, not sure how the crazy kid in
the loft could have made such a scary found if it really was the crazy
kid, because child, the crazies were a problem. Then, always feeling
a little folked, he hurried to the door and let himself out of the
barn. Raw Head flipped out of the loft and climbed down the side of
the barn behind him a raw Heads like a ninja with narya rustle to reveal
to reveal its presence, raw Head raced through the trees and up the path
to a large moonlit rock. He hid in the shadow of the huge stones
that only things showing where the gleaming yellow eyes, his bare claws, and
his the raccoon tail. What did he get from the panther again? Teeth?
Sure, I think boars have pretty sharp teeth too, got tusk.
Yeah, it's not bad. When the hunter came level with the rock on
the side of the path. He gave a startled yelp. Staring at raw
Head, he gasped, you nearly knocked the heart right onto me, you
crazy kid, lund of Gooshen. What have you got that crazy tail for?
To sweet yall gray, raw Head boomed his enchanted, squeaky, clinky,
creaky voice, echoing through the woods, getting louder and louder with each
echo. The hunter took to his heels and and for this cabin. He
raced past the old well house, past the woodpile, over the rotten fence
next to the piggy dog, around back of the seven to eleven, well
clear of all about foods, and into his yard. But raw Head was
faster. When the hunter reached his porch, raw Head leaped from the shadows
and loomed above him. The hunter stared in terror up at raw Head's gleaming
yellow eyes and the ugly razor back hog's head, his bloody bones skeleton with
its long bare claws, sweeping raccoon's tail, and his gleaming sharp pant their
teeth it with teeth. You were right warn to Goshen, what have you
got those big teeth, for he gasped desperately and ignorantly, stumbling backwards from
the terrible figure before him. You are like you wanted to, raw Head
understatedly roared, descending upon the good for nothing hunter. Well he's good for
hunter. The murdering thief gave one long scream in the moonlight. Then there,
with violence and the sound of crunching. Nothing more with ever heard of
the lady hunter who lived on the ridge. His horse also disappeared that night.
But sometimes folks with the raw Head roaming through the forest in the company
of his friend Old Betty, And once a month, on the night of
the full moon, raw Head would ride the hunter's horse through town, where
in the old man's blew overalls, over his bloody bones, with a hole
cut out for his raccoon tail. In his bloody bear clawed hands, he
carried his raw raised their back, hoghead, lifting it high against the full
moon. Forever very one to thieve. Yeah, so there you go.
That's old bloody bone. That's old raw head and bloody bones. It's kind
of like a headless horseman. But man bear pig version, how terrible.
That's a rough one. You know, something we've never done. Is Some
of these stories have comments oh yeah, and it was it was okay,
but no great, yeah, watch out. Oh that's like a war stage
advice. Yeah, so there you go. There's there's a ghost story.
Wow, I think you can sleep to my I've already pissed my pants already.
Wisdom of doctors. All right, David, I'm gonna give you a
choice. You can pick the next one, but it's like like picking the
switch that I'll be. Here are your choices. Number one, hungry Hut,
you have a hard time beating that. Number two, running for your
life. Number three, the backpacking journey, you're not even coming close.
Number four the witch cat. You're getting closer. But hungry Hut, Hungry
Hut, all right, Hungry Hut, as picked by mister d Stecco.
Hungry Hut. One day, I took my fishing rod went out into the
woods. Must have walked for miles until I came to a part of the
river that looked like a good spot for fishing. However, the fish just
weren't biting, and try as I might, I couldn't catch a thing.
It was evening and the light was fading, so I decided to go home.
However, in the twilight, I got disoriented and became lost in the
woods. I wandered around in circles for almost a damn hour. Jesus,
the light was fading and night was falling fast. Just as I was about
to give up hope, I came across a small cabin half hidden in the
bushes. Was old and dilapidated, but I could see a light in the
window. When I got closer, I saw that there was a man and
a woman outside. The woman was dressed in a shawl and the man was
wearing pants but no shirt. As I approached, they both froze and stared
at me suspiciously. Who are you What do you want? The man asked
gruffly. I'm lost, I said. I came out here to do some
fishing, but somehow I got disoriented and now I can't find my way home.
Do you have a phone? A phone? The man chuckled. We
ain't got no phone out here, but you're welcome to stay the night with
us, and in the morning i'll draw you a map so you can get
home. I thanked him, and he brought me into the house. We
sat down at a table and his wife filled a bowl of soup and handed
it to me. It was a little more than boiled water with a few
vegetables thrown in, but I ate it grateful hadn't caught any damn bish unlucky.
After dinner, they told me I looked tired and said it was time
to go to bed. They brought me to a room, and since there
was no bed, I had to lay on the floor. I felt drowsy
and could barely keep my eyes open. Just as I was about to drift
off to sleep, I heard hushed voices outside my door. The man and
the woman were whispering to each other. Quiet, you'll scare him away.
The woman whispered, we haven't had any meat for a month. Woofies tonight.
The man whispered, back, hand me the damn act. You don't
have to swear, you know. As soon as I heard those words,
my heart sank into my stomach, and my hair stood on end. My
meat started to tremble. I quietly got up and opened the window. I
climbed out quick as a flash and ran like mad and other similes. I
ran faster than I had ever run before, like a gazelle, ran like
a gazelle, shot out of a gun right into another simile. I ran
through the darkness, not knowing which direction I was going. It was pitch
black and the branches of the tree whipped against my face. I ran and
ran until it started to get light, and eventually it came to a road.
I waited there for almost two damn hours until a car came along,
and then I stuck out my thumb. I stuck it out so hard and
luckily the car stopped for me, and the driver gave me a ride back
to my village. My village, that's right, I live in a village.
Yeah. I bet you were thinking that the shirtless man was going to
be driving the car. Well he wasn't, wasn't. It's okay. As
soon as I got home, I told my story to everyone who would listen.
Some of the people in the village wanted to go to the police,
probably a constable if we're in a village, right right, But the older
people just ma and said do no good. M actually says wood. It
would Wood. Well, it's a regional dialect like steam dams. An old
man who'd lived in the village all his life told me something that shocked me
to the very core. He said, that many years ago, when he
was just a child, a lot of people disappeared what They went into the
forest and never came back. Many of them were children, and nobody knew
what happened to them. Nobody seemed to give us. One day, men
in the village organized a search party, and they went into the woods to
see if they could find any trace of the missing people. They searched for
days, but they found nothing but kiss This is a goose, saying,
village full of inept atolls, right. They can't catch fish, can't find
kids kids in the woods. Just as it seemed all their efforts would be
in vain, they came across a small hut hidden in the bushes. There
was a man and a woman living inside, and they were acting suspiciously.
There was also a terrible overpowering stinch coming from the hut. The villagers found
a trap door in the floor of the hut that sounds familiar. There was
a padlock on it. The man and woman said it would led down into
a cellar, but they refused to open it. Eventually, the villagers broke
off the lock and opened the trap door. When they peered down into the
darkness, their eyes were greeted by a terrible sight. Hello, Richard Simmons
was down there sweating to the old, to the grandam. Old was just
greeting your eyes. There were piles of human bodies stacked up like butchered meat,
and among them lay a little boy. His hands were bound and his
mouth was gagged, and he was crying. The disgusted villagers rescued the young
boy. Then they took the man and woman over to a tall tree and
hanged them on the spot. What that's the the story, bros? Whoa
there ends? Or does it? It does? Does? Okay? That
happened? Is it? Yeah? Hungry hud, Yeah, hungry Huad.
That's like the two benders re re reaps. So the guy found ghosts,
that's what the deal was. That we're going to kill him. Right.
There's there's a little little crossing the streams in that way, a little a
little hole in that one that maybe you could ride a horse cart through and
your way to the village. Hungry Head. That's the name of the restaurant
I was gonna open. Yeah, why don't you best meat pies in London?
It's priest. Listen, try a little priest, listen, man I
get it. Is it any good? I get it. It's too good.
At least there's a lot of meat. I'm a person, I get
it. I get it. You see that guy you haven't eaten, just
saying I get it. Dave Steccho, sociopath, Comma Cannibal, Comma podcaster,
Yeah, Comma podcast. All right, okay, I got one here
for you, all right. This one's about gentlemanly agreements, and it's called
the hen She Polly was the sweetest, prettiest girl in Goldsborough, Yes sir,
was it even? Says he? Yes, sir, yes sir.
All the local boys were chasing her, and quite a number of the fellows
from the surrounding countryside were two. All the girls were jealous of Polly because
they didn't have no sweethearts to take them to the local dancers poor teach them
grabb They all wanted Polly to choose her man so things could go back to
normal, cried out loud, But Polly was picky. None of the local
boys suited her, and neither did the fellows from the back country. Then
one day, good old George Dean came home from university and Polly was smitt
What an egghead it Polly was hot. Polly completely dropped all her other bows
when George came courting, and her pants NOI. And it wasn't long before
George proposed and Polly accepted why. Polly started making preparations for the wedding and
shopping for items to fill in her new home. George wasn't too interested in
all the fripperies and wedding details. He left the women folk to get on
with it and started spending time down at the pool hall talking about his niece
and sexes. Oh, with some of his buddies. Oooh, well that
starts with pee, which rimps with tea that stands for trouble. Oh,
right here in ghost Story Town, right here in Shiver City. Nice nailed
it. That's where he met Helen, the owner's saucy daughter. Oh did.
She had bold black eyes and ruby red lips and a bad girl air
that fascinated George. He spend more and more time at the pool hall and
less and less time with old Polly, who finally noticed, in spite of
all the hustle and bustle and spending of his money, sexism. Polly,
of course, was furies. She immediately confronted George with the story, and
he couldn't deny it. Suddenly George had to tow the mark. See that
mark there, George, So it don't want you again, right, snuggle
right up against it there. His pool hall visits were over and he spent
every free hour he wasn't at work by her side. La didn't sit well
with George and his family backed Polly up, so he went along with it.
Oh, not even married yet, but the resentment is strong. Let's
see how it plays out. Yeah, it's a bold move. Cud.
Yeah. The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright. The guests filled
the sanctuary, and the pastor and the best man waited patiently in the ante
chamber for the arrival of the groom, but George didn't come. Eventually,
they went searching for the missing bridegroom and found out he'd left town with Helen
an hour before the wedding. With dread, Polly's mother went to tell her
daughter what had happened. Polly, all bright and shining and lovely in her
long white dress, soft wedding veil, turned pale when her mother broke the
news. Then she stiffened, grabbing her left arm as a sudden pain rip
through it. She was dead from a massive heart attack long before she hit
the floor. Golly see, Polly was fat. She had been eating a
whole cake at the time. A few days later, Polly was buried in
the churchyard, still wearing her white wedding dress and veil because the store wouldn't
take it back. You know what was the battle evacuation? And all the
whole town came to the funeral and wept at the passing of such a beautiful
young girl. All the guys had the saddest boners in town. George and
Helen had had spent the week happily honeymooning in the Outer Banks, arrived home
at the very moment that the Outer Banks. That's right, America's destination spot
arrived home at the very moment the black clad crowd exited the churchyard. Wait,
wait what the black glad crowd clad crowd all wearing black clothes because it
was a funeral, But it was a black grad cloud. Nice, it
has just gotten out of school. Could have been okay, black grad cloud,
get it all out. That's right. Could have been a black lad
crowd. Could could have been a black hawk down. No, that's just
silly running. The minister had to pull Polly's father off George before he killed
him, and both George and Helen's family disowned the couple right there in the
streets, in front of everyone, which was legally binding at that time.
It was in front of everyone. The couple fled down in disgrace. Well,
as it does, time passed, and eventually the scandal was forgotten.
What past time totally said? Time? I did not say pime? I
heard pime passed? Well, you'd rucked home, you're right. Not a
word of it a line. Until the day George's father passed away, it
was rumored that he was to be buried in the local churchyard, just a
few plots away from the girl who had almost become his daughter. Suddenly,
the story of Polly's jolting was revived, and the folks wondered aloud if George
would dare attend his own father's funeral spoilers. Of course he would, it's
his father. You're an idiots, what's wrong with you? But George was
too clever for them. He tunneled under the funeral and what greeted the casket
as it was lowered into the ground and made them put okay. At this
point, I don't know why to believe, but George was too clever for
them. He waited at an inn outside of town until it was dark,
and then he went to the churchyard to pay his last respects to his father.
As he unburdened himself at his father's grave side, that doesn't sound right,
George took a sweet George heard a sweet female voice calling his name.
George looked up in sudden hope. Was that his mother come to forgive him?
See? Then he saw, rising from the grassy mound under a spreading
oak tree, a figure and a long white gown and a soft veil.
Her rise and lips were yellow flames beneath the veil, and the rotted wedding
dress glowed with the white up with a white yellow light. It was roly
poly poly. George's body stiffened because he remembered old Polly, Oh yeah,
gross. George's body stiffened, shudders, a fear coursing up and down his
arms and legs. He put a shaking hand to his mouth and staggered backward,
the other hand outstretched toward off the specter floating towards him. The Spectral
Bride cackled with angry laughter and swooped forward until his hand closed over George's outstretched
one, in a terrible parody of a hadn't shape please me? The grip
of the Spectral Bride was so cold at birth the skin, and so hard
that the bones crunched as it squeezed George. The glowing Bride whispered through the
veil. George could see maggots crawling in and out of Polly's flaming eye sockets.
No George gave a final cry of despair and wrenched at his hand again,
and suddenly he was free. The Spectral Bride gave a roar of rage
as George ran pale bell down the church lane and out into the street.
Hellmell is a serpentine. It's the kind of thing Ricken should have pulled,
The stupid, stupid Ricken the start, No one ever cared about Ricking.
In the old language, it means target breakfast. You're my George, dean
this world. The Spectral Bride howled after him. By the time George reached
his room, the fiery pain in his hand and arm was seeping through his
entire body. He rang desperately for the housemaid and begged her to send for
a doctor. Then he fell into bed and stared his hand, which was
black and withered, as if it had been scorched long ago by a fire.
Black and red streaks were climbing up his arm so fast he could almost
see them move. George was unconscious when the doctor arrived, and the swelling
was already extending into his chest and neck. There was nothing the physician could
do. The injury was too severe, it had spread too far. Within
two days, George was dead. Polly had gotten her man at last.
The Handshake probably not the best title. Maybe maybe the Pretty Polly's pen mell
futuralistic pocketing of power, move power, hands broken hot and bedding dress shot
it. There you go, there's a scary tale. Well it's a tail
two floor we got, all right, I've got some folklore from Virginia.
Oh well, then I look forward to your Virginia slam accent. This is
called it's the accent of a person who smoked Virginia slims their whole life.
Honey, Hobby fifty reads the witch Cat. Oh it's the witch cat?
What windey day? Back in eighteen fifty, a handsome young man whose wife
had died the year before, arrived in a small Virginia town called poon Holler,
No it wasn't. It was called Coots Crossed. He brought with him
his young daughter a wagon full of household goods and tools and enough money to
buy a small plot of land. And Bonarette Mule, the town's focal kind,
and showed him several apostles of land that would for sale. I love
this voice. It's like white billy d Yeah, I've got like planets and
moons. I love no, no, no, no, I liked this
voice. I couldn't. This is a nuance I couldn't hit. Before he
decided, he went walking through the back country and found a nice piece of
land beside a wide steel pond. When he asked about it, people said
it wasn't own by anybody. I had once belonged to a family that had
left those parts after a string of misfortunes. Nobody said much, though they
tried their best to get him to change his mind. Red Flag, but
nothing would do except for that land for his farm. People in the neighborhood
helped him get started. They had a house raising to build him a cabin
and a barn raising to following read what was the barn raising? To help
him build self esteem before team build a character. At that point, with
the last of his money, he bought a horse, a cow, several
chickens. He worked hard clearing the land, getting the field dready for planting.
His daughter milked a cow, fed the chickens, and they seemed happy
enough. Though the towns folk told one another that such a fine man should
get married pretty quick of himself a sort of companionship a man needs, if
you know what I'm saying, and give his little girl a mother, if
you know what I'm saying, I was hoping for it. Sometimes, when
his day's work was done, Armor would fish for a while, and the
banks of that pond, staring dreamily out across the waters that turned gold and
red and purple as the sun said, dream of the time he could have
with a nice young woman for companionship, if you know what I mean.
One evening, at twilight, he saw a small skiff coming across the water
hold by a tall, slender figure. The glare of the fading sun made
it impossible for him to see whether it was a man or a woman once
on the railwa who knows what that day, somebody's on that skiff. But
when the boat was near shore, he saw the stranger wearing a bonnet.
He was sniffing, which she was skiffing. A moment later, as the
skiff landed smoothly, a young woman's voice called out, oh hello, helped
me up, will you. She extended a delicate hand, pale and fine
as bone china to it like a man in a dream. A farmer reached
out and took it, helping her out of that boat and under the shore.
A woman pulled off her bonnet, shook her curly black hair free.
That feels multi lacking, she said, All that rowing can really wear body
out. For a moment, he didn't answer her. She hadn't asked a
question, so he didn't have to, so he took advantage, you see,
but he was fascinated by her wide green eyes, pale skin. Once
again, bringing that pale skin up, ladies, you don't have to be
worried about having ten skin. Pale skins just fine, just fine, and
lips as dainty and red as a rosebud. Why she kind of looked like
delta Berg. But y'all wouldn't know about that, seeing as how this is
eighteen fifty. Unless she's a vampire, the legends are true. At last,
he remembered his manners, removed his hat, and said, Tom Morgan,
at your service, ma'am. Are you lost not a bit? She
said, with a laugh that he wished she hadn't. My name is Eleanor
Faye. I live over across the pond. She gestured toward that far side
where the willows and cypresses were tangled together. I think it was time I
called on my new neighbor. Still in a daze, Tom invited her up
to see his cabin and barn and meet his daughter. Effi. Eleanor ood
and odd as he pointed out the new house and barn and the chicken coop
with its coat of fresh paint. Oh. When she reached out a hand
to stroke off his hair, a child clinging to her father's trouser leg began
to cry and wouldn't let the woman touch her. Let me touch your child.
Who the shy little thing isn't ship, said Eleanor with a polite laugh
that showed her white teeth. Tom horrified at that laugh once again, but
feeling badly, tried to get his daughter to apologize, but she ran away
suddenly. Well I'm sorry about that, said Tom. She's not usually shy
with strangers. Oh no, mallow, Eleanor. Easily, we'll become good
friends. Before long, it was now nearly dark. I have to be
gone, the woman said. Next time, I won't come by so late.
Tom walked her down to the shore, offer to row her back across
the pond, but she said no, thank you. I've been a whittle
for five years and I'm doing fine for myself. Oh man, it's just
fine. It seemed that a pole barely touched the water before the skiffs slid
quickly and silently towards the shadowed far shore. Tom stood staring for a long
time. Still it could no longer see Eleanor or her boat, and the
gathering dark. After that, Eleanor came almost every day to visit. If
you know what I'm saying, yeah, Once she brought a jar of homemade
preserves. Another time it was a lace table claw. Why. She was
just full of gifts for him, mainly just those two things. Tom was
enchanted. But if a hid, if she could get away, if her
father forced us stay inside. When Eleanor visited, she sulked in a corner,
staying as far away from the smiling woman as possible. Eleanor would blink,
her green eyes would seemed flecked with gold, as if she were holding
back tears, a gold golden tears. But she always made a show of
excusing the child's actions. When if his father asked her why she acted the
way she did, I it said, I don't know. I just don't
like a papa. This bothered Tom a good deal because he had fallen under
the spell of the young woman and was trying to work up nerve enough to
ask her to marry him after a few days. Once you exchanged preserves and
a tablecloth, Now you're just being an idiot. He never went across the
pond to her farm. She said she preferred to visit him and get away
from her choice, and anything she said made sense to him, if you
know what I mean. In addition to f it being difficult, Tom was
troubled by something getting at his chickens. Night after night, he would be
aroused by a blood curdling cat screen you know what I mean, followed by
a fluttering and squawking from the chicken coope. Each time he ran out to
see what the matter was, he'd found one or two of his chickens missing
and the feathers scattered all around. He probably had a thousand chickens to go
through because it just kept happening night after night. If it had bad dreams
of a huge cat with blazing yellow green eyes that climbed through the window of
her room and curled up at the foot of her bed waiting for her to
go to sleep so that it could suck the breath of life from her when
she did, it's a weird assumption. One morning, Tom found a barely
breathing and there was a round spot in the bedclothes at the foot of a
bed, as if something a cat baby had curled up to sleep there.
When Tom went into town to pick up supplies, the townsfolk took him aside
and whispered to him that Eleanoris was a witch had lived beside the pond because
it was enchanted, having been sacred to the Indians who had lived there long
before the white men had a rise. Thank you so much for this timely
information. What after you helped me move in and did not tell me when
I could have simply purchased a plot of land elsewhere. They also said she'd
done away with her husband by black magic, though no one was clear how
this had been accomplished. The young farmer refused to believe them. You're just
jealous of my good fortune, he said, Oh, that was the end
of that thought. Folks in town shrugged and went their own way. They
knew what the new. His daughter got more sickly, and Tom began to
fear for her life. Desperate, he went to the neighborhood conjo man named
Zeke Franklin. The old man was a white witch who helped people, especially
those troubled by black magic. What can't say for sure witching? You,
said Zeke, Did I give you something to help? Something to help?
He got a little bottle and into it he put a dried snail, mummified
spider, and the toes from the left foot of a tree toad. Hard
thing's getting tight bandages to wrap them spider mummy in. He added a bit
of batswing, then corked it, tied a string around the neck of the
bottle. Thell do reckon, said Zeke. Next, to take your hunting
knife, sharpening up sharp as a briar, and then keep it under your
pillar at night. Tom hung the bottle over Iffie's bed that night, and
from that moment on she had no more knight pass but he kept his hunting
knife home to a razor edge under his pillar. In the morning, Eleanor
came to visit him an expressed disgust at the jars Zeke Franklin had given Tom.
That's foolishness, she said, sounding downright angry. I don't have any
patience and nonsense like out, not allowing. While Tom tried to explain that
the conjo man's jar had kept Effie from nightmares, Eleanor ran back to her
skiff and pulled across the pond without ever once looking back at him. Frantic
Tom shouted after her, but she ignored him. In misery, he returned
to his cabin while Effie hugged him. That night, something got into the
chickens again and tore him apart out of sheer meanness. I may have lost
a lot, Tom said angrily the next morning, but I'm not gonna lose
any more, that's for damn sure. No hum. So he sent Effie
into town to stay with neighbors. That night, he moved a few remaining
chickens into the barn and hid behind some green bags near the windows. He
had been in hiding long and he heard the wind rise, followed by a
rumble of thunder. A minute later, rain began pounding on the roof shingles
by the wind howled through the cracks in the walls. Tom was not a
man easily frightened, but the power of the storm began to make him uneasy,
and the power of Christ compelled him. Then he heard a yowl that
sent a thrill of terror up his back. A moment later he heard a
pounding on the doors, as if huge fists were beaten upon it. Tom
raised himself into a crouch. At the same moment, a monstrous cat with
flashing yellow eyes leaped at him through the window of the barn. The man
sliced the air with his knife to defend himself. The braar sharp blade caught
the cat's right paw, severing it completely. The cat gave a shriek of
pain, yellow eyes blazing, it fled out through the back window. Tom
stumbled out of the barn like a man in a nightmare. A line of
red drops led towards the shore though the rain was washing the trail away,
he was able to follow it easy enough. At the water's edge, he
saw the mark of a boat's prow, and the mud far out. With
the rain pocked lake was lit by flashes of lightning. Tom saw a skiff
skimming the black water towards the opposite shore. He shouted after, but the
wind and thunder drowned out his cries. In a moment, he had launched
his own boat and was rolling across the storm lashed pawn. The storm ended
shortly before dawn. The neighbors who had care of effort came to the farm
later when they had begun to wonder why Tom hadn't come to claim his daughter.
Silence lay over the farm. The tracks of a man's boots led downder.
The shore of the pond now silver in the late morning sunlight. Some
brave villagers rolled across the lake at noon. On the far side, they
found Tom sprawled lifelessly on the mudah shore. Clenched in his fist was a
severed paw of a cat. In the rude cabin father up the shore,
they found eleanor Faye collapsed face down on the floor. When they turned a
rover. They found she was dead and a right hand was gone. A
witch cat. I like that story. Man died, Yeah, died for
love. Well, nobody was straight with him. That's the village's fault.
That's true. All they had to say. Yeah, that's a witch pond.
Yeah, look out for the witch curs pond. She looks super super
smoking hot. But dude, that's witch poon. You don't want it?
Why do I keep saying poon? All right? I got one last story
here for you. Okay, this one is it Sit in the South as
well as our others been, so this one's called Run, Run for your
Life from the Dingle Dinge. Sarah hated her job at the mall. That
was one reason she liked the tracks so much. By the time she finished
a run, Sarah had usually forgotten about her idiot boss and all those annoying
customers. The customers all ways, right, her boss would repeat like a
dick. Sarah knew, Sarah South's pretty cool, Sarah's a badass. All
Sarah knew is that sometimes they gave her a real pain in the neck,
and that was actually about two feet below in her neck, right in the
lumbar. No wait, she had that weird torso problem. That's her ass.
I barely followed that right. So every day after work, Sarah changed
into her her running clothes and shoes and drove over to the high school track
to bully some kids near her home. Another thing that was cool about the
track was that few people used it. It was great to be outside and
away from the crowds of them mall. So she lit a dooby, She
spoke a dooby, she blazed a jay, and after a couple of hot
bong rips from the ja, from the ja, it was a bong ja,
she knew that she was gonna get higher than she'd ever been before.
Today was different. Sarah was surprised to see more than thirty people going around
in circles in the growing twilight. She'd been there a little later than usual
because she had worked some extra hours because her dick bag boss asked her too.
I guess it's more popular at this time, thought Sarah, as she
began warming up. After a few laps, Sarah felt a sharp pain in
her stomach. Oh, I shouldn't have had those pretzel nachos. It was
normal to have a few aches and pains at the beginning of a run.
They usually just went away after a while. It's normal. Yeah, what
you're the runner, you tell me supposed to hurt the whole time. I'd
die afterwards. Okay, they usually just went away after a while. But
this pain was getting worse than. A terrible burning burp came up Sarah's throat.
Oh God, no, that spaghetti thought that trying to kill make She's
so cool, she said out loud, remembering what she had for lunch and
hasting it again. Sarah slowed down and began walking, but the first time
since she arrived, she began looking closely at the people going around the track.
They were all walking slowly, and they were all dressed in church clothes.
What a bunch of frakes, Sarah thought, Oh man, they are
I agree with her. She began to run again, but it was no
use. The pain wouldn't let her. Sarah was now moving as slowly as
the others. Soon, an old man in a brown suit started walking next
to her. Sarah noticed that his face was very pale, and there was
something strangely familiar about it. Shita. He said something to you, Oh
yeah, our tall like growth falled Mankah Martaladay stopped creeping on me. I
have a boyfriend. Sarah stopped and began to ask him how we knew her
name, But then as the old man turned to face her, she saw
that the other half of his face was completely eaten away. My god,
two Faith from the fan series Screaming. Sarah started running forgetting about the pain,
she ran as fast as she could, around and around the track mindlessly.
Oh. She ran to the parking lot, but her car wasn't there,
so she kept running. And she ran and ran and ran, and
then she ran. She finally looked over her shoulder, hoping that the old
man wasn't somehow chasing her, and there was no one. Yeah. Sarah
began to slow down, and then she saw her car up ahead in the
middle of the street, surrounded by a group of people. Suddenly she remembered
who the old man. Grandpa, She gasped, but hands been Dad for
like ten yards farrest Like, Grandpa, don't come to scol with me.
Uh, it's so embarrassing. I'm gonna put this on s notchat. My
god, my friends are gonna think I'm the lame because my grandpa's half dead
and he's like trying to run track and you know what, you look terrible.
You can't run in it, they Grandpa, I can't apply enough filters
on Instagram. It's designed for athletic wicking, Grandpa to sweat, and I
can't use the wicking feature, glythening the pain in her stomach, Grandpa.
The pain in her stomach came back stronger than ever as Sarah wobbled down the
street. If I I'm pregnant, I am going to live my gang mind.
I can't even It's gonna be Thumbercamp all over again. I know it.
I won't go back there. She seemed to float past a crowd surrounding
her car. As she looked in through the crack glass, Sarah saw herself.
Her lifeless body was crushed under the steering wheel. Her eyes were open
but saw nothing, and there was a dark growing stain over her stomach.
That wasn't just spaghetti sauce. What was it? Oh my god? If
I stained that sweater, it was like super expensive. I had to put
on layaway for like rams because my dad wouldn't give me the money they end
guess what. Sarah was already dead, but since her stomach didn't start to
hurt until she was running she's technically in a position of superposition. She was
occupying two spaces simultaneously in a quantum state. Yeah. So then someone looked
in the car and the entire superposition collapsed in on itself. But guess what.
She was still interacting with other particles, Graham particles as they raced around
the track, which is probably just the metaphor for electron electrons orbiting nucleus.
That you're right, this is like some pretty deep science. Yeah, if
you start reminding people what they're listening to. All right, Flora, Sarah
doesn't know. That was not dick attack. It was a laptoss of a
book and a gentle laptoss. Gentle laptoss is my stage name, Tulsa.
All right, well, uh so what would you do? What would you
do if you suddenly saw yourself? Oh that is actually easy, ghost slaps.
I would start ghost slapping people. Oh other people, Yeah, yourself,
all the all the lucky those that came around. I'd want them all
to be like and then something slap me? Is that what you would do
to me? Would you would you ever try and come back and and like
make contact after you die, or would you just not give a fuck?
I would not give a fuck. See you're an atole. Yeah, after
doing this for four years, you wouldn't. You wouldn't do me the the
nicety of being like, here's here's what you got. Yeah, you know
why I wouldn't. I'd be doing you a giant favor because you'd sound like
a nutter. You'd sound like you'd gone around the bend. And I'm going
to do you the favor withholding that. That would be the ultimate prank.
You would just that's that's like trolling me from the afterlife. Yeah, except
you know what you know what I do is I just punch you square in
the balls, like every fortnight. You want the current, You want an
eternity of cockslaps because you get them, keep going. You just keep it
up, mister cock slaps, two eternities. I can. I can do
this all day. Here's what you gotta understand. The cock slap is very
different from the nut punch. Okay, yeah, they eat each of them
in their own way. Is I think that a cock slap is is more
emotionally insulting? Yeah, well, don't slap slaps in general. Okay,
enough of this, I've got to end us on a poem perm and don't
forget when you're all sitting around your camp fires this summer sabass and hot as
hill and trying to keep the mosquitoes off of you, and all the West
Nile and Zeke and whatever else they want to scare you with. Getting all
of it. It's part of camp, and get that out of there.
You're regaling each other with the storied terror and screw in us. I want
you to remember a little fourth stands a poem. It's real short, but
it's a love story. It's very nice, and it's a good palate cleanser
for everybody called Grandpa. It's called Grandpa Grandpa. My ending poem for us
for camp fire ghost stories this year is called your hand in mine. I
hold your hand in mind, dear. I press it to my lips.
I take a healthy bite from your dainty fingertips. My joy would be complete,
dear, if only you were here. But I shall keep your hand
as a precious souvenir. Well. The night you died, I cut it
off. I really don't know why. For now, each time I kiss
it, I kick bloodstains on my tie. I'm sorry now I killed you
or our love was something fine, and until they come and get me,
I shall hold your hand in mine. All there's a lot of unwanted eye
contact happening right now. That's messed up. Its creepy, spooky duke.
That's what love is. Love is murder and disembodiment. Lies was cutting your
hand off and holding it forever. Show me your hand after it's cut off.
Oh my god, you know what? Do you like that? Yeah?
You know what else? I want to know? No, I want
to know what Panza jump the nut? Gun nutshell it yeah, nut show
him. Well, that'll do us for some camp fire ghost stories. You
know we uh it was it in that those stories are in a mostly Southern
bloody Oh my god, nut shall nut shall, I am a large nut,
shouts that. Grandpa, Bray, I'm allergic. Grandpa. I thought
it was. I thought it'd be fun to do a ghost stories were a
little early. Maybe I don't give a man, Okay, I know you
don't. I know you don't, But I'm just saying. We we've got
October coming up, which is ghost story central. It actually is coming up
now. Like that scares the Jesus out of me. That Jesus wasn't in
me. But boy, whatever was left its God, it packed up its
briefcase. It's pamphlets and it's new contestament, and it got this shit out
of me. It I coming back, doesn't even care about the security deposit,
which it wasn't getting. Oh that's uh, it's been a while since
we've had a ghost story episode, so I thought it might be fun to
throw one in right now. I like that. You know what else I
want? No? I want to know what puns is? Oh THEO are
you go? H? If I could? I got one, I'm gonna
start off puns here. Oh you're gonna you're gonna take it from me?
Okay, I am. You don't know? Uh, you know. There's
a product that's available. It's a it's a small discrete adhesive uh plastic thing,
uh tag with some electronics in it that if you download the accompanying app
from the app store and you're small phone, you can track it and you'll
actually get alerts if if it gets too close. And it's called Grandpa Tracker,
so he can't sneak up on me. It's like if he starts shuffling
too clothes, my fune will tell me. Even if I'm texting the like
alert Grandpa's coming. Grandpa tapes may thou growth hey, kay, hey,
keep thinying that he loves me, and then I have to tell stories about
things that don't matter anymore. All right, all right, Grandpa Tracker.
It's a pun sponsor for the podcast. I have a certain annoyance. I
think it is, you know, when you're on the farm and you wake
up in the middle of the night because all your chickens are just going nuts
and you run down there and they've all got red bottoms. They're like welted,
yeah, red and stingy. Yeah, they're they're puffy butts. Yeah,
puffy, puffy butt chickens. Yeah. Well you've been you've been visited
by the switch cat. Oh you know there's a bakery shop mostly did uh
breakfast foods things like that, you know, muffins and the like. But
they hired a new baker so inepped that they I strongly suspect that this baker
never even worked in the industry before people came in. Somehow, just in
just in cutting up the dough, managed to cut his hand but not put
a band aid on. Oh and didn't even like actually have the oven heat
set right so when people came in, um, you know, they would
buy a loaf of bread and they cut it and it was just dough and
I mean it was an awful thing. And it got into the local newspaper
and the headline was raw bread and bloody scones. Yeah. Oh, and
did I mentioned that the baker was a giant ambulatory pig skeleton? Yeah?
Oh good? Oh no you didn't. Sorry no. Um, Well,
I've got a I've got a place that's a little off the beaten path.
Good. It's out in the woods, kind of hidden away. You really
have to just get lost before you find the want it. But it's a
it's a restaurant, and it's it's very chic. It's it's very high class.
It's an elegant place. It's some you know, like only the the
I love elegance. I celebrate it. Only the high rollers go there.
And it's it's written about wins a lot of rewards of awards and rewards and
uh and has written about in all the big food sines and stuff, you
know, like cooking mags and stuff. Well, um, it's funny because
you go there, you get a lot of raw meat. Oh yeah,
you know, things are served rare, like very rare. But it's it's
in fashion, it's it's total mode. Yeah, it's the hungry hot Oh
nice, forgot the hungry hut. I would have made a punt about a
hungry butt. But that's because I am. I'm the lowest brow there is.
But you know the the thong store. Yeah, I see did it.
That's fun fun, And now it's time for you to horrify us with
the stories that are not necessarily fictionalized but nonetheless terrifying. It's a listener.
Listener mails from mal free mail Stai mail, I never arrived. You can't
do it? Start the beat? Does it hurt you? I can't.
You can't slice up the beat? And then make fun of each each hot
track I did. I did slice up the beat. God, it was
tasty for a while. Yeah. Well then I sliced it up and served
it. I got some shout outs for us, ohs. These are These
are given shout outs to people who have sent in suggestions or just like a
love the show, thank you guys for fun. Let's shout outs, rops,
high fives, and verbal hand jobs. Shout outs and props, high
fives and verbal jobs it's weird when there's no beat. Huh, it's weird.
It's weird when there's no beat backing track. Just anyways, we want
to give a shout out to Jenitor, Yes, Tyler to not helping Matters,
Mike C from Portland, Hello, Mike C. Littlemith Bones Portland from
down Under love Bones, General Ironicus, Oh, General Ironicus, your real
name is Grant Now everyone knows. Oh. Shout out Taco Moose, who
actually has a quick joke. What do you call a flying creature that is
extremely fat in the face but the jowlman? Nice? Shout out to craft
Apocalypse, Yes to Rob, to Matt Squatch Matt's thank you guys for writing
in, thanks for suggestions and Levins and all that good stuff. Yeah,
thank you. I got some listener now here from the amused muse. Here's
mus I just want to say that your Brolander intro sketch in the Saint Germain
episode Crog Crog had me laughing so much. I was walking into work.
I'm pretty sure people's dogs were looking at me. Funny. That's awesome.
Oh accomplished. I don't think this raises the level of a penalty box.
This is gonna be on me. I just know it, which reminds me
we're not going to do it because it's too late now. But we I
do owe the people a penalty box. Oh I think I might owe one
too. I don't know if we've gotten to it. Okay, um,
but referring to Bonnie Prince Charlie aka the Young Pretender as Englishman, my get
you listed in the column in next month's Scott's magazine. This is how much
we listen to our own damned episodes. I don't even know what you're referring
to. We yeah, we're not even sure. I mean, you're absolutely
right. I'm sure, don't worry. But there's a permanent page in Scott's
magazine just has our name on it. It's the thing man with English history
that is convoluted. That's true. It is tough, really matters when I
guess. But you're right, I can't remember. Whenever it comes to the
Scots, You're gonna get your ass kicked if you say Englishman every time.
That is true. It's just a universal fact. The first episode of this
year's Miss Cryptic Contest has reminded me of something. I dearly hope that your
store will someday offer items featuring the Boone County Wood Snoot. Oh. Yes,
we do talk about that a lot. I can't I don't care if
it's a t shirt, a truck or hat, or a coouzie for one's
bud was or select. I would buy such things immediately. I we We've
actually discussed a few different ideas for Boone County Wood Snoot merchandise. Unfortunately,
the thing that's tough is that we have so many ideas and and truth be
told, we love you guys. You guys, you know you support the
podcast, but there's like a minimum order on everything train it and it really
bones us. So so if we hear so, if you want Boone County
stuff like, please write in, let us know, tweeted at us or
whatever, and then we'll know that that's the thing we should do. Keep
up with the good work. I've been listening to your show for more than
a year now. Thank you, thank you. Still look forward to it
every week. Cheers, amused music, thank you, Mused news to hear
from you again, Dave, we've heard from Alex the hoopie well not a
harpie hoopy down. Does Alex Alex mean that alex is a hula hoopist.
Yeah, I can only assume yes. They call each other themselves hoopies.
What did your mother call you? Started listening a couple of weeks ago,
Loving It. Wanted to give props to Dave for the singing of the Rain
reference during an episode. One episode's listener mail, I think maybe that was
Moses supposes, Oh, maybe, I love Singing in the Rains, one
of my favorite movies of all time. Also a heads up for some of
your listeners during a couple of episodes. Acially, once I mentioned ancient Aliens,
I started feeling a bit off. It took me some time, but
I finally figured out it was the same feeling I got when watching the History
Channel. Went to see the doctor, and after some test I found out
that I was sucalose intolerant. Nice, I got gut pains and gas problems.
Every time that fucker shows up on TV sends a request for more dry
fuss and more angry badger noises. We do will people more dry fuss.
People love that we don't do it enough. When I think about the lack
of dry fuss in an episode and how that has to make all our listeners
feel I feel like all of them are making a dry fuss. Come on,
there's one right in the scales. Yep. Another question for us,
if Jeff the talking mongoose is actually holding down a job as a cobra exterminator,
is he actually acrypted? He's been through a couple of office jobs.
At one point he was able to get dental insurance and Dennis, who apparently
was like, yep, I cleaned the teeth of a talking mongoose. Whatever.
Is insurance as good until it wasn't? At what point does Jeff stop
being encrypted? It had become just some weird, hairy, creepy exterminator.
If sasquatched are working as a lumberjack, would he or she still be considered
encrypted or just as slightly less hairy than usual lumberjack. I think that Jeff
will always be encrypted because he's enigmatic. He doesn't like talking much about himself.
Yeah, he doesn't fit into your civilization stereotypes, right, Yeah,
he loves birds, not other mongooses. Oh get this. Alex's usual go
to are buffalo trace and larceny. Hey. Oh, but if you want
something price and fancier, chestnut Farms is excellent oh, I haven't tried chestnut
farms and I haven't tried I mean I was drinking Buffalo trace tonight. Yeah.
Was originally introduced to Ken Hit through the HP Lovecraft Literary podcast, which
is a good podcast, and thrilled to hear him on Blurry Photos. We
should definitely have him back. I'm sure we will. Oh god, yes,
well more pun. There was a guy who took a plane across Washington
State. On the plane, he has nearly every single passenger for a couple
of dollars. He also asked the flight crew and the pilots to see if
they had any extra cat, going so far as to have them radio every
tower along the way to see if they could spare a few bucks or maybe
parachute or four, promising that he would pay them back after his nick paycheck.
You know. His name was what dB moocher Nice, Thank you,
Alex Lahoopie, thank you. Next one is up from the bread Master,
Breadmaster, Breadmaster rights. Hi David, David, Hi, oh Hi.
I've been listening since Ironiciss recommended your podcast on his podcast. Thanks Grant,
and I've thoroughly enjoyed everything you guys put out. However, binging the entire
archives over a period of a couple of months was not my best choice.
Agreed. I don't recommend it. Check up anybody digestive send your crawl like
a stuck in your craws, especially during the time I should be finishing my
master's degree. Yeah, that's not going to help you, which I did
a week before writing this. Congratulation's Breadmaster, so it's not just I mean
he was just bread but now he's bread Master's a master of bread. Yeah,
he's got an MB Yeah. I cannot seem to remember which episode it
was in, but there was one where you guys took on the topic of
Pokemon and this is what a stroke must feel like. Do you remember which
one that is? Yeah? Where does where did that start? This is
what a stroke feels like. I really don't remember. I feel like you
told me one day, like recently you were like, oh, yeah,
you know that episode. We might have looked it up, but I cannot
recall which one, which single episode that was in. But I'll tell you
what. We do have that sound effect in the old sound effect files for
Patreon. I know if it's a month one or month two, we split
them into month the installments of sound effects. But I wonder, you know,
um, someday, hopefully we'll get popular enough. Someday someone is going
to go through and do like an episode guide. It's not gonna be like
a wiki. Yeah, it's not gonna be us. Yeah, but man,
it's maybe it's maybe someday some great human being who wants like free T
shirt would do that and all the inside jokes. Here's the thing. Here's
the thing though. Now that means that if I say that like five people
are, this is gonna be the hollower certificates all over again. I rescind
the offer, not because I don't want it, because it's gonna be like,
oh I did it, I described an episode. Where's my shirt?
No, I can't. That's not how the internet works. I've learned my
lesson, which, by the way, I'm gonna send you the file for
that, and we're just gonna put a link on the website so people can
download their own Hollow Earth because people still send me, oh, I think
we've got one printed password? Is McClintock. Give me the damn thing.
I think there was. I put a limit on it, and everyone ignores
that part. I think there was one certificate that you never sent to anybody.
Yeah, it's like the Lisa frank that literally no one ever got.
Put a limit on that one too, and no one got it. Actually
no, I take it back, and he got a certificate that no one
else got. Really, Yeah, was it the Lisa Franklin Now? Because
I never finished it, I still have it in my computer, like so
many things never finished. Unlucky anyway, moving on, So the answer the
question Breadmasters, we don't know, but you know honestly the Blurry Photos fan
page. Yeah, I'll bet you maybe somebody there knows because we know because
I'll tell you what when, And I don't know. Maybe it isn't my
whole life, like as an improviser when I do, like when I was
on stage or even doing the episode, I don't remember it when it's done,
that's true. I and so like I actually listened to it like two
or three times and I yeah, yeah, when he's editing it, he
hasn't listened to it for like eight damn hours, you know. Yeah,
come on, eight, I'm not a superman. It used to be twelve.
We cut it down to eight with the new technology. What is this?
We know it's twelve. It takes a long fun time him. I've
got to I've got to cut it down and then I've got to listen to
it and make sure i never get all the bleeps out. Furious, furious,
furious, Yeah, jim Jimmy's have been rustled. So is we never
remember what we do when it's done. True. When I listened to the
episode, I am constantly surprised by what both of us say because I don't
remember it. So sorry, I don't have a better answer for you,
their breadmaster, But congratulations on your breadmastery. Yeah, yeah, yeah,
I mean, you know what, have fun going through the archives and trying
to find it. That's that's my advice. That sounds like a sounds like
fun listening to more of our miserable bullshit, Dave. We've heard from Bryce.
Hello, Bryce, cool boy. Nice to hear from your Bryce.
Oh thank twice before. Okay, Hey guys, I've got a bone to
pick with you. In the Cikada thirty three or one y episode, you
talked about the possibilities of a live show on tour, and then you were
like, we're not going to Boise, Idaho. That's disappointing because I live
in boys. That was Flora who said that? That was David Flora.
Direct your comments to d Flora at I'm in trouble dot next. So I
hope you can find your way here because I'd love to buy you guys a
beer for one of our numerous Luke breweries. I get it if it's not
logistically possible to have a show here, but I'd love if you could make
a random detour and let me express my appreciation the show. I would,
Unlike David Flora, I'd love to Flora doesn't want yeah here. Here's the
deal bryceon and I'm sorry, uh if if you are offended by it,
I wasn't trying to offend Boise or any of its any residents. Shut up
for a second. He's wearing a T shirt that says shut up my shot?
Does he shut up? So? Oh? Checkmate. I have absolutely
nothing against Idaho. In fact, that was a spot to shut up.
Shut up. I have thought about going to Idahoe for vacation. He's gonna
die kiss my ass boy. It's all on a little tiny bone in his
collar with his phone number in case she gets lost. I don't even know
what you're you're saying anymore. You hate so much. So there's nothing that
there's nothing against Idaho or Boise. The reason I said we're not going to
Boise, Idaho is because that I think. I don't think there's a huge
list of ship He thinks you don't know how internet works. Bryce right ends.
Dave's having a ball right now. He's having a ball, even though
like he was like, yeah, Boise Idaho, Potato right recording, you're
the one he said it. Oh you Boysey Bigott. I would love to
go to Boise, Idaho. We'll hang out. Oh if I don't think
Flora Lever talked to me again afterwards. I think I'm a trader. That
was great. Dave would steal me out for a Chaco taco if you have
a Choco taco talk see oh see. Oh, we would love to come
to Boise, Idaho. I'll tell you what. If you can drum up
about fifty to seventy five people that would fill a theater to see us,
I'd go just to see you because that's how I am. You know,
Flora needs Dave is in a position where he can't lose right now. That's
the deal. Anyway, Sorry, if I offended you, Bryce, it
was nothing against Boise or Idaho. I'm also sorry, Flora. Oh he's
not. I'm so sorry his shirt. I should have stopped him, but
I just couldn't. Thanks Bryce, Thanks Rid. Your next damn email Okay,
all right? Uh? Last email uh is from the You've got one
more? Oh? I thought I didn't see anything in your hands. Oh.
Another email here from the Boise, Idaho Chamber of Commerce. It is
as I just had to pull my children out of private school because I can't
afford to send them to get a good one. I don't know. I
don't know where I was going with that. It was the fact that I
was I turn tourism. Yeah, you ruined a lot of things, the
hard working people the boys Yard got an email from Butternut Squash Squash Yeah,
no squatch, Butternut Squatch rights. It's up yo. Thanks for the shout
out in the VP Supplement eight. That's the OCHO. Glad it was worth
a giggle. Still loved the podcast and thought the live episode was fantastic.
If you're able to continue them maybe annually. I'm going to try to get
out to attend one um well, depending on hopefully you can bring it to
boys, depending on where in the country you are. I think we will
now have to do a shame episode and boys, we have to walk through
the streets of Boise naked. But you will be there's a there's gonna be
a very stern woman in a nuts habit, going lame, ringing a bell
lame. I don't know why I think that's so funny. I don't know
why I aren't taking so long to write this poor person. Sorry, I'm
sorry, I'm I'm punchy and I'm exhausted. I'm doing both squatching and nutting
in Denver, Oh mile high, that's my town. I love Denver.
I missed Denver. Why don't you married Denver? Well, you were the
home of an hour with your ex. Now I know, I know I
could go hang out with them. I could go visit them and do a
live show, because I don't mind going anywhere or visiting people. Because I'm
a man of the people other people. I don't have any prejudice. I
don't know why it's so funny to me. I actually know, I do
know why it's so funny to me, because the idea that you would like,
because you genuinely were worried that you would offend somebody by saying that,
because you just like rattled off, like the name of any town, USA,
first thing that popped into your ahead. You know what pops into people's
heads a lot, Dubuque, Iowa, Dubuque. Isn't like when people have
to say I don't know, I don't know from Chicago to Dubuque, people
say Dubuque a lot. You Just the thing that I love about it is
that you just picked a random town and then you were like, oh,
I don't want to Yeah, that's why it's funny to drag you through this,
because you're so you don't want to offend anybody, and that's what makes
it delicious delicious for you, just for me. Thanks Butternut Squat. One
more here Dave from beauty kins Hi. Beauty kins Hi, just writing in
to request my beautiful MS paint certificate finishing both Hollow Earth episodes. H Wow,
I'm really glad that I mentioned that prior to you reading that. Then
I feel psychic a little bit, she says, for real, though,
I just discovered your podcast through Reddit a few days ago and I love it.
Hey, I got some Reddit credit just invented that phrase. No one's
ever said that before. I plan on downloading a ton taking guys along on
my drive from Minnesota to Vermont the summer. Wow, that is a hall.
How do you go? Do you go up or down? You know?
Do you go through Canada? Do you go around the bottom of the
lakes? That's true? What do you? What do you what is easier
that way you go across? Oh? Sweet hydroplane? Do you have a
skiff? Skiff it? Bring some other podcast, you know, spread it
out. There's a real there's a real saturation danger there. I worry about
it. I don't like hearing myself that much, she says. My husband's
a big fan of puns and I usually just roll my eyes, but you
guys actually make me laugh quite a bit. I think I might have one
to submit. Have you guys heard of the new actor? I think he's
He's British and he's doing a new Journey to the Center of the Earth movie.
Sweet. Yeah, his name's Colin Earth. Oh nice. No,
I have to wonder where he fits on the Firth van Dyke scale. He's
right at the top or the bottom. I also love you guys are in
Chicago, went to college there and miss it every day. Wonder where you
went to school, Columbia. Maybe you I see us, Paul Loyola,
we could name all I know. I'm also from Milwaukee, Heyo or in
the University of Chicago. Sometimes I get into trouble about mentioning that I'm glad
I shot that in time loved love to hearing about Jay Nathan Couch. I
felt like I was listening to something Taylor just for me. Well that's fun.
Yes, that's what we want to do, taking you with me to
Vermont. Expect my certificate in my inbox shortly, well shortly was this date
on that email? Date on that email? Well you know we're only only
about a month out on this. Okay, all right, okay, good,
But it don't smell bad. Yeah, it's not like a hungry hut
yet. I wouldn't I wouldn't need it, but I keep it around the
case and has it to scare a child. Thank you, Beutin, Thank
all of you for writing your glorious Thank you for your continued five star reviews.
I don't think there's someone that didn't quite get the memo. It's five
stars that we like. That's the number of stars. Yeah. Um,
and also five one star reviews not the same. The one five star review
not the same, you hyperactive post, so just make sure that it's one
five star review, not five one star reviews, because that's what we've got
right now. So thank you guys so much for writing those. They are
really really good those they I mean it. I like reading those, especially
when I'm in a piss mood. That's true. Yeah, it happens a
lot. I'm a fussy little baby man, cry baby. Thanks for all
your likes on Facebook. Um. One thing that probably the best thing you
could do besides like just throwing money at us or signing up to Patreon or
doing push ups because you'll build a lot of good upper body strength that way
is to tell people about us, yes, and spread the word and get
everybody involved and make them love us. Wouldn't you rather tell your friends about
us than when doing push ups? I know I would. I would.
Yeah. Wouldn't you rather tell your friends about us than just throwing your wallet
or purse at us? I'll take both. I mean, we'll not take
either or pride, no pride. But it's a great way if you can
spread spread the good word there, go over like the fan page on Facebook,
go to Twitter, follow us at Blurry Underscore Photos, check out our
Instagram account. I just lie. That doesn't even anything. Yeah, we
don't. We don't know that far made it, not that far. We're
on Stitcher if you if you need that kind of stuff, Android play all
that, all that stuff, Audible trial dot Com, Slash Blurry Photos will
get you a free audio book just for trying it out. If you don't
like it, after thirty days you can get rid of it. You don't
even have to keep it for the thirty days. You get rid of it,
but you keep the free audio book, which is cool. Now I've
just finished The Sea Wolves, which is a great book all about the history
of the Vikings. Oh I thought it was about the wolves, but you
or didn't want to swear. No, No, I'd say it. I'd
say it. I'm not it's scared. I'm not scared. I'd just say
it. I'd just say it. How was that? It was great?
There's a lot of cool history. Did you know that they tried and depending
on how you looked at it, once or twice a pretty much almost succeeded
in taking Constantinople No, I didn't. The Vikings. Well, I know
that their predecessors, the Vandals, got pretty pretty far into the Roman Empire.
They never tried for Rome, although that was like, you know,
the big prize, but they they really rustled some jimmies in Constantinople. You
never think about, right, the Vandals were not run either. They they're
they're pre Vikings. They're just badass people from there. But they were on
the mainland. They're not They're not playing games. These guys are coming from
scan to fucking Navia, dam right. That's anyways. Sea Wolves is a
great, great read for you. I feel like Vikings. I'm onto Song
of Susannah in the Dark Tower series. Yeah, you've been really jamming that
out. And anyways, Audible child dot Com, slash Glory Photos. There's
a couple of things you can listen to if you want to hear some other
podcasts. They're one hundred percent free and awesome. Check out the Chicago Podcast
Cooperative. They are a mercenary unit of some of the world's most skilled killing
podcasts. If you can find them, and if you can afford them,
maybe you can find the Chicago Podcast Cooperative Bampa Bampa and are with your eggs
tie pencils also improvide star Trek humanity. Yeah, but also if you want
to uh, if you want to put Christ, if you want to put
Hello from the Magic Tavern on an airplane, you're gonna have to sedate at
first because it's to fly, It's true. But yeah, thank you to
the podcast co Op, and thanks thanks to Cards Against Immunity as always and
the Dark Myths Dark Myths don't forget to go to Darkmouths dot org collection of
great podcast of history, literature, mystery, mystery and dysentery and Dysentery.
That's a real downer of a podcast, by the way, but you get
a lot, you get a lot of great stuff on there. The Lesser
Botapartes rumor Fly History on Fire, Twilight Histories is a really cool one.
And that's not about vampires with shiny skin. No, no, it's not
to be clear, But yeah, go over there, check those guys out.
There's there's tons of great podcasts that you will enjoy, so so Dartmouths
dot org. Yeah, and I don't know, I think that's that's probably
it. We got a store, don't forget, please go buy shirts and
we still got those couzies. Man, they're they're sitting here and they're doing
nothing but keeping the box that they're in cool. Yeah, keeping them real
cool and letting your beer in your hand get warm, warm, and sweaty.
So have some respect for yourself. Coozy. They're five bucks. It's
all included. Yeah, who cares? Yeah, go over to Patreon,
sign up, get get a bunch of stuff. There's just so much stuff.
Literal wheelbarrel of digital ones and zeros delivered. One thing that got brought
up on the live stream, which you can get at the twenty dollars level,
um naked postcards of David and I and one of them we're at a
rodeo. Another one we're doing, uh, figure skating. One of them
we recreated figure skating. The other one we recreated the dirty dancing lift.
You've you've thought too much about this, Hold up to you. One thing
that got suggested was a way to access old content that that maybe the extrasodes
that come out, maybe if somebody missed like the first Chrono nuts. That's
true. We did put a krona knots out there, and it seems a
shame to limit the access. Yeah, we are hostage. We're thinking about
that, we're going to start thinking about how to access that. We're thinking
about it, but drinking about it. Anyways, that'll do it for this
episode of Blurry Photos. I have been David copa Flora. Oh, and
I have been Dave. You can stick around for the secret track that you're
gonna regret it stecco. Ah god, yea grappa bye. I have to
read this because a grammatically doesn't make a lot of sense, and b I
got a story written by George Suklos. Whoa what? Yeah? This is?
This is what you're you're leading off with? Yeah, it isn't this.
And I'll say this. We don't usually lead off with the site unseen,
but I found this. I downloaded a couple of apps that are just
full of ghost stories to go through, and I just was while I was
finding the one that I'd already looked at, I found this one and it's
called did Boy Kill? Yes he did? Oh my god, Sukolo sound
he is such a thing even possible? Yes it is. Okay, here's
a story that's so god awful that covers so many bases that we can't just
put it at the end, just hide it. Okay, we read this
and then at the end we realized it was so bad it couldn't even be
in the episode. That's right, It doesn't go anywhere, so we but
we've already recorded it. So so where's that going to go? Not the
ether, It's gonna go to your ears? Yeah, ther earther your ear,
Arthur, there is there is another story on here called the Cat and
the Hat strikes back. Did boy kill? Yes? He did. Spoilers.
Oh, my husband and I are alive. My son is not well,
not in any way that we know him. I'm not quite sure if
he ever was alive, or if he was ever really there. I'm not
sure what to believe anymore me neither. Melvin Junior did come to our house
the next evening, I swear that's the next paragraph. I wanted to go
far away for that night, but my husband was having none of it,
said I was being overly paranoid, even accused me of being drunk. My
son, of course, denied having the conversation. It was almost as if
he forgot he told me about his past life or whatever it was. I
made sure timmy Junior slept with us that night. How many juniors they can't
both be juniors because Melvin Junior and Timmy Junior. Wait, they can't both
be juniors, so it's not it works like a different marriage. Oh.
Anyway, made sure Timmy Junior slept with us that night. I refused to
let him out of my sight all day. The waiting and not knowing was
debilitating. I remember sitting with my aunt at her house when I was fifteen
fifteen years old. She was waiting to hear from the authorities after getting a
call that my cousin and uncle were in a boning accident. It took a
week for them to call off the search. It took two months to be
told the parts of them washed up on the shore Wolf. I remember thinking
back then that the knowing, though tragic, was better than the waiting.
That thought held true for me. Exhausted by every panic laced minute that passed
during the day, I drifted asleep with Timmy Junior in my arms. I
woke with a young boy, the same eight year old boy in the photo
of the article, hovering over me, about six inches from my face.
He had what I assumed was a knife to my cheek. It was too
close to my eye for me to make it out for sure. Paralyzed by
fear, I lay frozen in a blank stare at this ghost. He leaned
in a little closer to me and whispered, Mummy, your skin I want
to peel it. I screamed in a way that seemed to vibrate the bed.
As I did, my husband and son woke, and the boy from
the photo lifted his knife and thrust downward. I raised my arms to block
him, and my husband leapt over to protect me and Timmy Junior. The
knife went through my arms and passed my husband's torso like a specter until it
landed squarely in my son's neck. Timmy Junior began to convulse, as though
the knife electrified every nerve in his body. My husband started to throw throw
fists at Melvin Junior. Who is that the ghost swinging through him and hitting
nothing? It is the ghost. I tried to console my boy to shake
him out of it. As I lay halfway through the ghost. I tried
grasping at the knife in his chest, and then it wasn't in his chest
before Timmy Juniors, Yeah, but it was neck. Yeah, I tried
grasping. It's great. Shut up, shut up. I tried grasping at
the knife in his chest and then tried covering the visible rip in his chest,
but the knife wasn't physical and the wound had no blood. I still
cannot comprehend and what happened when Timmy Junior's body stopped shaking, Melvin Junior disappeared,
and my son died. My husband tried CPR on my son in an
attempt to try to resuscitate him. I sat on the bed next to him,
sobbing uncontrollably. When I heard my son cough, I called out his
name and prematurely hugged my husband in a relieved embrace. You need to verify
first. Timmy Junior opened his eyes, shifted them to me, and started
to talk in a way I've never heard him speak. He spoke to us
like a Southern bell, confused and startled, as though she woke from a
coma. Oh please please. It's been a few days since he died and
came back to life. My husband and I have been having many interesting conversations
with our quote son. Apparently his new name is bridget S. I cannot
make out the last name due to the accent. Maybe songs or SuDS or
something. Like that, and she apparently is from Louisiana from the conversations you
have had. She was also probably around eighteen or nineteen years old and lived
in the late seventies. Timmy Junior also has not been sleeping well. He
will wake up in a horrible pain, grabbing his private parts in agony,
or he will wake up and begin to vomit because she can't stand the smell.
I don't know what any of it means, but it may be a
clue. Can any of you help me find out more details about this Bridget
woman. I need to know if something else is coming after my son.
The end. I can't read another one of those. We might even not
get to use that one. Oh my gosh, Bridget schools out and summertimes
here at six flags. Your face. I already killed myself face everybody,
come on down your face before I kill myself. So come on down the
six hands. Just stun it. Just show up shut at the front door.
Then get back in your fucking car. The coat can just shtun it.
Get park. Oh yeah, do one more. Oh yeah, I
guess. Please my name, he said, char gig Or come down to
make her happiness. Where the gum get set up. Don't continue the joke
thought macan ice cream sex has soft on your mouth with semi soft her shut
up, Let the flag force itself apart. Okay, okay, all right,
okay, all right, there's a line. I believe your line was
about Sarah. I need I need everything relaxed to do that. When I'm
laughing, everything's like clinch. Al right, sure, oh god stop my
nose up from the from the back, and everything just sort of rebounded.
All right, I have a little sip, have a little slip, take
the take. I'm good, good, okay, God, all right,
I'm believing you don't worry if you're till midnight. I don't care. Gigs,
I've made them army of time amium dogs to chase a child. Well,
because I said one more time. I was trying. I was trying
to clear the deck a man a sandwich shot of sadness and umbilical. You're
like the skin bread. Okay, let's okay, I'm gonna make eye contact.
I'm making eye contact with your thord Teddy Bear. Oh yeah, so
close. Oh yeah, that was good. I was sexual. Oh yeah,
all right, that's it. We're done. That was it.