Speaker 1: Fast Food Horror is an Abbey normal production. Hey listeners,
it's e J over here at Fast Food Horror. Yeah,
we're in spooky season, and yes I said we were
going to go to a once a month release, but
given that it is spooky season, I thought we'd give
you guys a little extra. So for the next two weeks,
we're going to explore some urban legends, starting with my favorite,
a retelling, a reimagining, a re nightmaring of the hook,
as told by our favorite story teller by the camp fire,
the best place to enjoy a creepy, spooky, scary urban legend.
Why hello there, you have chilled to the bone. Why
don't you come around the fire and set a spell
and I'll spring you? Ayar hmm. Perhaps you've heard this story,
a story of a young couple stranded, either accidentally or purposely,
that part is up for debate, full of desire and
passion in their car one night, and a man with
an unquenchable thirst, full of his own desire and passion,
and a hook. Hum, look at that moon. Perhaps on
a night such as this, where the veil between this
world and that is at its finnest, we can call
on one of the spirits that were involved to tell
their story. Would you like that to hear the story
directly from the horse's mouth, as it were. Then take
a breath, my friend, Lean close to the fire, Gaze
into the flames, Focus on the colors between the oranges
and the red, now the blue, the hottest part of
the flame, and call out the spirit of Zane Breen,
Zay Breen, and listen to his story. Hello, Hello, Why Hello,
dear Zay. I have a weary traveler here who would
like to hear your story? Oh?
Speaker 2: Oh okay, I I mean there are parts that are
are a little foggy and frankly, the part that got
me here where wherever here is well, I don't even
know how I even got here. Do your best, and
maybe by sharing it'll all come back to you. Oh okay, okay, okay,
Well here I go. So Lexi and I were driving
back from homecoming. We've we've been dating for a few months.
We really love like I love her. We just have
a seid it to each other yet, but I think
she loves me too. I finally got my license last month,
but I don't have a car. I usually borrow my
parents' minivan, but this was homecoming. I wanted something cool,
something where cheerios wouldn't accidentally get stuck to my sports
coat when I sat down from one of my younger
sisters snacks. I don't have the money for a limo,
so I asked my older brother to borrow his car,
a midnight blue Dodge Charger. He bought it a police
auction and fixed it up, lots of fixing up, lots
and lots, but damn, sorry for my language, it looked cool.
It only cost me a month's worth of chores in exchange,
but it would be worth it to drive Lexi in
that We had a great time with our friends at homecoming,
and I didn't embarrass myself dancing. Well, at least she didn't.
Speaker 1: Laugh at me.
Speaker 2: She wouldn't laugh at me, she's too nice to do that.
We stayed till the end, then went to Sammy's place,
the diner in town, to get some food and hang
out with everyone before I went to take Lexi home. Unfortunately,
time got away from both of us, and I was
going to be late getting her home if I didn't
hustle or take an inventive shortcut. I thought about speeding,
then thought about my parents' reaction if I got a ticket,
or my brother's reaction if I crashed his car. So
I went with the inventive shortcut LEXI. She lives on
the other side of town. And if I learned anything
from missus Miller's math class, was that the shortest distance
between two points is a straight line, and that straight
line would take us right through the park and through
Forest Lawn Cemetery, the largest cemetery for the county. It
would easily shave twenty minutes off for our drive. Though
it was smooth sailing, absolutely no traffic. It was so
picturesque too, the headlights catching all the foliage that had
changed from greens to red and yellows. It looked like
the trees were on fire. As we sped down the
lane through the park and then into the cemetery, I
looked at the clock nervously. We were gonna make it,
We were gonna be on time. And then did I
mention my brother's car was a fixer upper. As we
made our way through the cemetery, I felt, as well
as heard the engine began to conk out, and then
we drifted to a stop. I looked at the gas
gage still half tank, which was the extent of my
engine knowledge. I tried to restart it, to no avail.
We sat there in the middle of the cemetery, completely
in the dark except for the moonlight, trying to figure
out our next move. After a few minutes, Lexi went
to go text her parents that we were running a
few minutes late because the car broke down. We reread
the text and we both agreed it sounded lame, but
it was the truth and that wasn't the biggest problem.
The text wouldn't go through. I tried to text my
parents too, then tried to text my brother again. They
wouldn't go through. After twenty minutes, I came up with
what I thought was a good idea. LEXI could stay
here safe in the car, and I would walk the
remainder of the way four miles through the cemetery to
the gas station that was on the other side, and
I would come back with help, and if I could
get close enough to apparently a cell tower to have
a reception, I would send off texts to both my
parents and her parents and let them know the situation.
She was not completely thrilled with the idea of sitting
at a cemetery by herself in the middle of the night.
But I told her that if someone happened to pass by,
at least they might be able to help get the
car fixed and running. We embraced and she gave me
a kiss, a long one, and that was all I
needed to give me a little extra incentive to get
back to her asap. I set off down the lane
at a quick pace and found myself regretting my decision
to leave the car, Surrounded by headstones and the shadows
they cast, trees hanging ominously over the lane, and with
each breeze of wind, a new rustle that I needed
to convince myself was not a threat. Eighteen minutes in
my anxiety ridden walk in the relative silence was broken
by my cell phone. A local alert broke with the
all too familiar sounder. I reached for my cell which
now had reception yay, and read the text. David Howard Simms,
a convince murderer, had broken out of state prison. He
is considered dangerous and not to be approached. Any person
south of Town Park should lock their doors and not
venture out until further notice. I remembered hearing about that
case from my brother, David Howard Simms had killed eleven people,
butchered them, really gutting them and hanging them from trees
using the hook he had for a hand, south of
the park, south of the I was south of the park.
Lexi was south of the park and alone in the car.
I started running back to her, sprinting until I saw him,
a large, dark frame of a man standing in my
way in the lane, just standing and watching. I was
about to ask if he could help, until I saw
his right hand, or rather right hook, in the moonlight.
He charged at me, and I turned and I ran
for the headstones and mausoleums, trying to lose them in
the shadows and the darkness, blindly running. I'd come back
for Lexi. She'd be okay. She was in the car
after all. And then I felt something hit my head
and hurt, a crack, and then darkness.
Speaker 1: What happened? Am I did I make it? Is?
Speaker 2: Lexi? Okay? Tell me she's okay.
Speaker 1: Now, Now let me try and fill in the blanks.
That crack you heard was the impact of a branch
being swung at your head by mister Sims, who gently
scooped up your prone body and carried you back to Lexi,
who was having her own problems with her imagination playing
tricks on her alone at night in a cemetery. She
had no idea that mister Simms was even out there.
All she knew was you off in the dark, going
for help. And then the pounding started on the roof
of the car. It scared her so much, the constant banging,
again and again. She had no idea what or who
it was. No one was there to help or save her.
She couldn't see anyone out the windows, but was assaulted
by the constant banging from on the roof. She wished
you were there, Zane. Through her tears and sobbing cries,
she called for you with each bang and pound upon
the car's roof, Zaye Zaane. Then, slowly, ever, slowly, the
banging became an irregular tap tap tap, followed by her
simpering cries and your name. She had no idea you
were there so close. You see, mister Simms had strung
you up from the tree above the car with a noose,
and the banging was your body and its death throes,
your feet pounding against the roof trying to get purchased
as you fought for your life until you couldn't fight
any longer, and stopped the tapping. The tapping was your
body swaying in the breeze as it tapped across the
car's roof, Tap tap tap. I know Sims always gutted
his victims. He waited till Lexi passed out from terror
and exhaustion, and then he ran his hook down your midsection,
spilling you out on the car softly so as not
to awaken Lexi. He wanted the scene to be found
just that way. Lexi survived. The police found her asleep
on the floor of the car David Howard Simms. The
hook was never seen again. Now, traveler, how did you
enjoy the yarn I spun? May I advise as you
continue on your travels from taking any shortcuts Itz