December 1, 2025 • 20 mins
This week’s hometowns include a creepy caller and a mistaken kidnapping in Sweden.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:16):
Hello, and welcome to my favorite Murder the minisode. That's right,
we read you any story you send us.
Speaker 2 (00:23):
That's right.
Speaker 3 (00:23):
It has to be an email form though, that's the rule.
Speaker 1 (00:26):
That's right.
Speaker 2 (00:27):
Do you want me to go first?
Speaker 1 (00:28):
Sure?
Speaker 3 (00:28):
Okay, this one is really quite something. The subject line
is the call is coming from inside the house to
the MFM crew and the hairy beasts in parentheses K
nine feline and facial. And then it says, missus Stephen,
that bring you joy. And then it says, okay, the
calls will be referring to thankfully did not come from
(00:50):
inside my house. But you'll understand after reading my story
why I cannot watch the movie when a stranger calls
without a team of backup quantities of black Box wine
to drink and res my feet on. That's so hilarious
because I think they just mean box wine, but then
they're like referencing black Box from a plane, so it's
kind of like the really important wine. Oh, I get
(01:11):
it black Box wine or something else. I'm not sure
if that's what I'm assuming. Okay, it says I grew
up in a small town called Hopewell Junction in the
Hudson Valley, of New York. When I was in high school,
my stay home mom went back to work and I
would come home to an empty house For about an hour.
I would usually hang out in our raised ranches downstairs
family room, watching General Hospital and talking to my friends
(01:33):
on the phone.
Speaker 2 (01:33):
That's all we did after school.
Speaker 3 (01:36):
The only phone downstairs, oddly, was in our laundry room,
you know, the yellow one attached.
Speaker 2 (01:40):
The wall with the curly court ours was yellow too.
Speaker 3 (01:44):
One afternoon after school, I was expecting a call from
a boy who would be my boyfriend on and off
for the next year. The phone rang and I ran
to get it, then, of course, waited a few beats
before picking it up. Should this boy think I was
too anxious, which of course I was. I answered Hello,
and I was greeted with Hello, I said again, trying
to sound flirty yet slightly above being bothered. No answer,
(02:06):
just silence. I hung up, deflated. The phone rang again
before I could sit down. I picked it right up
and said, slightly annoyed Hello. A man's voice, deep and monotone.
This part's dirty. So if you are a mother with
children in the backseat of your car, turn the radio
down now. The man says, he whispers, do you want
to fuck?
Speaker 2 (02:27):
What?
Speaker 3 (02:27):
I said, thinking of nothing else to say, and hoping
I was hearing in correctly, he says it again.
Speaker 2 (02:33):
I hung up. I was stuck to the spot, terrified.
Speaker 3 (02:36):
This didn't sound like a prank call from one of
my schoolmates, although my parents later would say that it
was Stevie from down the street, who.
Speaker 2 (02:42):
Was an asshole and a pervert. They said.
Speaker 3 (02:45):
I jumped up onto the washing machine and I sat
looking out the ground level window into the backyard. I
was there when my mom came home half an hour later.
I was too afraid to move. This was before the
days of screening and voicemail. A ringing phone could mean
a best friend or a boyfriend car. There were more
calls over the next three days, always when I was
home alone, asking over and over again that same dirty question,
(03:08):
until the third day, when as I was about to
hang up before he could ask yet again, he said,
I think I might want to hurt you. Needless to say,
I spent the next two afternoons with a friend at
her house. My parents had a camping trip coming up,
and it was supposed to be the first time that
I would be left home alone for a couple of days.
I had been so excited about it, but not a
(03:29):
fucking chance that was happening. Now. I was sent down
the street to say with my grandparents, and I could
not have been happier for me until recently the story ended.
There no more calls. Eventually I returned to General hospital
and phone gossip in the afternoons. But a few months ago,
more than thirty years later, my mom and I were
sharing a bottle of or three of wine and talking
(03:50):
about how hard it was to be the mom of
a teenage daughter. My mom said, I can't even tell
you how scared I was when you were in high
school and had that horrible caller.
Speaker 1 (04:00):
Oh my god.
Speaker 2 (04:01):
She proceeded to tell.
Speaker 3 (04:02):
Me that when she and my dad had gotten home
from their camping weekend all those years ago, my mom
went downstairs to do the laundry. She found the laundry
room's windows screen had been cut, and that it looked
like someone had tried to pry the window open with
a screwdriver.
Speaker 1 (04:16):
Oh my god.
Speaker 3 (04:17):
My parents called the police, who proceeded to watch our
house unbeknownst to me, for a week or so. My
mom also took some extra vacation time off, which I
now remember. We watched General Hospital together.
Speaker 2 (04:28):
It was nice.
Speaker 1 (04:29):
My god, my mom would have told me. Yeah, I
love that she didn't tell her.
Speaker 3 (04:33):
My mom totally would have told me, and she'd be like,
and so if something happens, here's the plan. Thankfully, my
gentleman caller either moved on to someone else or died,
perhaps rightfully vicious and untimely death. Love your voices, your views,
and your vibe. Stay sexy, and don't answer the phone
until your mom gets home, Leanne, Who was it? Also
(04:54):
like the parents keeping the huge just shoe drop from
that story.
Speaker 1 (04:58):
And being like so chill about it. They even went
on their vacation. Yeah, but they sent her to the grandparents. Like,
pretending to be chill for your child's sake is like
such a gift.
Speaker 3 (05:08):
Well, and also that's back in the time when it
was like Peeping Tom was supposed to be funny and
that a prank caller was just it's just some boy
in your class, Like no one treating any of that
stuff like they should.
Speaker 1 (05:21):
And the fact that he only called when she was
home alone means she was probably being watched. Yeah too,
so it probably was a neighbor. But that doesn't mean
that's not a good thing.
Speaker 2 (05:29):
No, it isn't so scary.
Speaker 1 (05:30):
Oh, oh my god, how terrifying. Okay, this one is
called thank you re placent A donation. Oh hey, team,
I normally listened to your podcast in the car, but
as I was listening to the latest Minisoda yesterday, I
got home with only a few minutes left on the show,
so I paused. This morning home from work with a cold,
I picked up the episode again and Georgia began talking
(05:51):
about placented donations to train cadaver dogs. Remember the minisoda
I did a few weeks back. I'm so glad I
wasn't on my way to work because I immediately burst into
tea in my kitchen. Almost a year to the day
before I started listening to your podcast, a close friend
had gone missing. Her home a clear crime scene. It
took hours for the police to find her buried in
the backyard. Those hours of waiting are dreadful. Your brain
(06:14):
can't comprehend what's happening, so you feel some sense of
hope that it's not real, but you're also so sick
with worry that you know you couldn't be in the situation.
If there wasn't a chance that the worst had happened.
In the end, the absolute worst had happened. My friend
was killed in a violent crime that had nothing to
do with her. It is terrible for this to happen
(06:35):
to anyone, but Emily was truly filled with light. She
maybe you want to be as good as she saw you.
I have lived through that panic of searching for a
missing loved one twice now, and to know that I,
at twelve weeks pregnant, can soon help other families in
that situation gives me greater relief and joy than I
can describe. Thank you to Lauren for a message that
(06:56):
felt timed just for me, and to the MFM team
for the platform on which to share it. SSDGM Elisa, Wow,
I know it's like you think you're just writing a
story about a placenta and then you're actually making people
cry in their kitchen.
Speaker 3 (07:10):
Well, and also like we're just passing the word that
this is a thing you can do a way to help.
Speaker 1 (07:17):
And then she's like it gets to the right person.
Speaker 2 (07:20):
God, amazing.
Speaker 3 (07:24):
We're going to go to a trash dad world now.
So it's a bit of a turn, right, Let's go
This is howdi ho Murdery knows. Your recent call for
accidental kidnapping stories reminded me of the time I framed
my trash dad for kidnapping. Here's the story. It's the
late eighties and I'm around two years old, doing my
best to make my mom's life miserable. She was apparently
complaining about the excellent work I was doing in this
(07:44):
regard to my dad, who had the goal to respond
that I was a perfect angel, so my mom must
not know how to handle me. Knowing a trash dad
statement when she heard one, my mom replied that my
dad could take me with him and do the grocery shopping.
Speaker 2 (07:58):
Then genius.
Speaker 3 (08:00):
As my dad tells the story, the grocery shopping went
fine until we went to leave and I noticed one
of those old fashioned little rides that they used to
have in front of stores and insisted, Daddy, Daddy, I
want to ride the horsey since I'd been so good.
My dad figured why not and put in a quarter.
I ecstatically rode that little mechanical horse until the time
ran out. They are pretty amazing. Yeah, those old ones
(08:21):
really are kind of like us. It's a little kid,
my god, it's a good action, but then the horse
is so real looking. Yeah, it's like kept getting a
single merry go around or the one that.
Speaker 1 (08:30):
Would just go in a circle with the little seat.
Oh my god, it felt like you were on the
top of the fucking world.
Speaker 2 (08:35):
Yeah, I was a little baby, Okay.
Speaker 3 (08:38):
My dad complied with my demands a couple of times
until he was out of quarters and patients. He tried
to calmly explain to me that it was time to
go my trash. Dad apparently was unaware that you can't
reason with terrorists or two year olds. I refused to
get off the mechanical horse, crying about making the ride
go again, until my dad finally grabbed me and threw
me over his shoulder. I took this as my cue
to start screaming hell, help me, oh my god, and
(09:02):
reaching out in desperation to anyone and everyone in that
grocery store parking lot. Realizing how this must look, my
dad hurried towards his truck before anyone could call the police. No,
which is also what a real kidnapper would do. So
not helping yourself look less sas there, dad. Unfortunately, these
were the days before power locks or seat belts were standard,
(09:22):
let alone car seats, and I was clever enough to
know how to pull up the lock and on the
car door and escape out the side before my dad
could get in behind the wheel.
Speaker 1 (09:32):
Oh my god, I.
Speaker 3 (09:33):
Don't know how long this Scooby dooe skit of chasing
me around the car went on, but eventually he managed
to keep me in long enough to get us on
the road before any sirens pulled up.
Speaker 2 (09:43):
So this is a two year old with no car seat.
Speaker 3 (09:46):
Yeah, just get in and like stand on the seat
like you did on the ride.
Speaker 1 (09:50):
Here, and then unlocking it and running into a busy
parking lot because it's so funny and fine and oh
my god.
Speaker 3 (09:55):
I had to have parking lot danger explained to me
so many times as a kid, because I would just
suddenly get an idea and be like, now I need
to be back at the.
Speaker 2 (10:03):
Car really fast.
Speaker 3 (10:05):
Needless to say, by the time we got home, my
dad was too trash dad to admit he was wrong,
but he did swear to my mom that he was
never taking me to the store again. Oh my dad,
Jeff passed away three years ago, and while he was
definitely a trash dad, although I think in this story,
I was more of a trash kid. I still miss
him every day. Sharing the stories he liked to tell
(10:26):
like this one helps keep him close. I hope you
enjoyed it. Stay sexy, and believe your wife when she
says your kid is a pain in the ass. Ivy, Oh, ivy, ivy,
you had a real good dad.
Speaker 1 (10:38):
I love the mom be like, oh really, yeah, then
how about.
Speaker 2 (10:41):
Why don't you take her? Yeah, and enjoy yourself as
store goes.
Speaker 1 (10:44):
Yeah, well, I had a kidnapper one as well. Okay, okay,
A few weeks ago you asked for kidnapping stories, so
here's mine. In spring twenty seventeen, my best friend and
I planned a girl's weekend in Stockholm, Sweden, Sweden, and
true celebratory spirit, we ordered champagne on a two and
a half hour flight, and we were happily tipsy by
the time we landed. In hysterics. We made our way
(11:07):
to immigration, desperately trying to compose ourselves. I handed over
my passport and stepped into one of those glass airlock
booths basically just a mini jail that opens only when
you're cleared. You know what I'm talking about. My door opened,
I was free. My friend stepped in next, and that's
when the immigration officer started frowning, glancing from her to
the computer, then back again. I joked, Oh, they don't
(11:29):
want you in the country. You're in travel. Don't go
through immigration drunk.
Speaker 2 (11:33):
No jokes.
Speaker 3 (11:34):
If you're gonna be drunk, no joke, no jokes. No
you're not funny. No nothing is funny. No, they're not
going to be funny. Noth you.
Speaker 1 (11:41):
Then the officer picked up the phone. Within seconds, armed
police surrounded us. We were scored to a small room
and seated across from two uniformed officers. Still half laughing,
we nervously cracked jokes, trying to figure out what we
could possibly have done. That's when they said it. They
believed I had kidnapped my best friend and was trapping
her out of the uk Q stun silence, I stammered, what, No,
(12:05):
we have return tickets because apparently traffickers always buy around trips.
Then came the twist. The officer explained that my friend
had triggered an Interpol alert. She'd been reported missing in
twenty fifteen, and then it clicked back in July twenty fifteen,
her birthday. She'd gone out celebrating with an old friend,
partied for two straight days and completely lost track of time.
Speaker 2 (12:27):
What birthday was it?
Speaker 1 (12:28):
Yeah? Meanwhile, our group was frantically calling everyone we knew,
and by Sunday morning we reported her missing to the police.
When she finally came home thinking it was still Saturday.
Speaker 2 (12:38):
Oh oh the cocaine.
Speaker 1 (12:40):
She was shocked by the panic she'd caused. The police
closed the case, or so we thought. Apparently someone forgot
to tell Interpol. After a few phone calls and some
awkward laughter, they confirmed everything. I was not a kidnapper,
my friend was not a trafficking victim, and we were
finally released, escorted back by some very handsome Swedish office
(13:00):
who found the whole thing just as funny as we did. Oh,
we did what any sane woman would do after being
detained for fake kidnapping. We went straight from more champagne
and carried on with our girls' weekend. Stay safe and
don't let your best friends sell you into the human
trafficking market. Goodbye, Anna, Marie.
Speaker 2 (13:16):
Anna, Marie, you joke?
Speaker 3 (13:18):
Now?
Speaker 2 (13:18):
Yeah, what if that was an international incident? Also? I
love the way they lock in.
Speaker 3 (13:22):
The person that's kidnapped, and the kidnapper is just over
there hanging out.
Speaker 2 (13:26):
No one puts that together.
Speaker 1 (13:27):
No no, no, yeah, like both of you get over here.
Speaker 3 (13:32):
Okay, this story is pretty epic. I'm not going to
read you the subject line. It starts Dear Karen and Georgia.
When I was a freshman in high school, I went
to school in an old prison, and then in parentheses
it says in true murderingo fashion. Who. However, it was
in a small town in rural North Carolina, so it
wasn't as bad as it sounds. Basically, it was just
a building with tiny barred windows and cinderblock walls everywhere
(13:54):
you looked. Well. One day, on my way to class,
I was cutting up with my best friend Abina, per
usual and running late. We were turning out a corner
in the empty hallway when I made a particularly funny joke.
As I turned to make sure that she was indeed laughing,
I tripped over my nerd tastic rolling book bag and
walked face first into the cinder block wall. No problem,
(14:15):
I thought, you trip all the time. Everything's fine. That
is until I backed away from the wall spit one
of my front teeth into the palm of my hand.
That's right, I had walked into the cinder block wall
with my mouth open and chipped off over half my
front tooth. Panic set in the world was spinning. I
had only had my braces off for a few months now,
and I was going to go around looking like a
(14:36):
hillbilly for the rest of my life. I was fourteen,
and my life as I knew it was already over.
Speaker 2 (14:42):
As I re situated the.
Speaker 3 (14:43):
Offending rolling book bag, I took off in a mad
dash that would hopefully keep me from seeing any of
my fellow classmates who would want to stop and chat. Unfortunately,
my luck that day was bad and getting worse. I
turned the corner in a hurry and ran smack dab
into the boy that I had the big crush on,
nearly toppling us both. I awkwardly tucked my upper lip
(15:04):
over my teeth to hide my new gap, grunted sorry
without making eye contact, and proceeded to run like the wind.
After giving my principal a heart attack, she called my
mom and I was eventually whisked away to the dentist
in between sobs, informing my mom that I would never
be able to smile again. I remember to ask about
our fifteen year old dog, Nick, that had been sick,
(15:26):
and at the vet. I had not quite used up
enough bad luck that day, because that's when she handed
me his collar out of her purse and told.
Speaker 2 (15:34):
Me that he had passed away.
Speaker 3 (15:35):
No needless to say, I was a wreck at the
dentist's office. I couldn't enjoy all the attention I was getting,
as every employee had to stop by my room to
see the girl who had knocked her tooth out simply
by walking into a wall. Miraculously, the break in my
tooth was so clean that my dentist was able to
glue my front tooth fragment back on, and it is
still holding on to this day. Oh and the boy
(15:58):
that I nearly mowed down in the school hallway, he
is now my husband, Oh my god, and anytime I
pick on him for doing something embarrassing, he isn't shy
to say, at least my front tooth isn't one, being
all together with super glue. Cheers to you, fabulous ladies
and all the ways you've brought joy to my life
and countless others. I can honestly say that I wouldn't
be the person I am today without y'all stay sexy
(16:20):
and don't use a rolling book bag, Jennifer, And then
it says, ps, I could never use a rolling book
bag again.
Speaker 2 (16:27):
And then here's a picture.
Speaker 3 (16:28):
Of her as a fourteen year old with a broken tooth.
Speaker 1 (16:30):
Oh oh, she a little baby. She looks pretty stoked.
Or she's on good dentist drugs.
Speaker 3 (16:36):
Yeah, I wonder what's going on. She's like, hah, it's
kind of funny. For a second, the idea that it's
her future husband.
Speaker 2 (16:42):
The was the cutest, cutest.
Speaker 1 (16:44):
And I wonder if you're like running into him and
blowing him off, like made him go like, oh, who's that?
She didn't talk to me?
Speaker 3 (16:49):
She hasn't she being nice to me? I must know
more about her, right.
Speaker 1 (16:52):
Okay, this one my last one. I'm not going to
read you this up jacked. Hello everyone. When I was
about four years old, my mom worked overnights, and so
I would sleep in her bed, which was on the
first floor, while all my older siblings would sleep upstairs.
My mom's room had two doors, where one led into
the living room, while the other was a door that
opened up to the basement. I was half asleep one
(17:15):
night and had to use the bathroom, and my four
year old self used the wrong door and fell down
a full flight of cement basement stairs and hit the
wall at the bottom. Like these days, I feel like
they would have child proved that door, like when they
were pregnant. Entirely, I don't remember what happened next, but
when I woke up, I was in the hospital and
my mom filled me in. She said, my brother's dog,
(17:38):
who conveniently enough, we just adopted two days before, must
have heard me crying in the basement and would not
stop barking for over an hour until my brother became
so annoyed and was going to put her outside. And
when he came downstairs, he heard me crying and found
me down there, almost bleeding to death, and they took
me to the hospital. I took an hour for the
brother to get out of bed to stop the dog barking.
(18:00):
That's such a brother thing.
Speaker 2 (18:01):
Constant barking. But the parents are get out of bed.
Speaker 1 (18:03):
No, they weren't there. They were working overnight.
Speaker 2 (18:05):
Oh sorry, I wasn't paying attention.
Speaker 1 (18:09):
I had lost a lot of blood and suffered a
bad concussion. Holy shit, my mom said she thought I
was weirdly calm and didn't seem very shooken up by it.
And so she asked, were you scared being down there
in the basement. Remember she's four years old. And though
I remember nothing, my mom swore I replied with quote, no.
The lady that was down there with me kept telling
me it was going to be okay, and stayed with
(18:31):
me until someone came. She was the best what my
mom couldn't believe it, and she said she grilled me
about it more later, and I slowly started forgetting more
details about the lady and everything that happened. But my
grandma had just passed away not even a year before that,
and my mom truly believes it was her that helped
calm me down during that time.
Speaker 2 (18:53):
A little baby in the basement.
Speaker 1 (18:55):
Dying, dying. I just thank god that we got that
dog a few days before, because otherwise the doctor said
I would have bled out after a bit longer. And
even though I suffered a head injury, I promise I'm
not a murderer and we'll continue to SSDGM. Thank you ladies.
You make my work day fly by. Okay, Okay, that
ghost was like keeping her awake, too, which is what
(19:17):
you do when you have a concussion.
Speaker 2 (19:18):
Right, that's right, you can't go to sleep.
Speaker 1 (19:19):
So she's just like, everything's gonna be okay, Stay calm.
Speaker 2 (19:22):
Stay calm.
Speaker 3 (19:23):
We'll just have this dog bark for fifty more minutes
till your goddamn brother gets out of bak.
Speaker 1 (19:27):
Don't panic because then your blood will fucking pump out
faster like this ghosts Grandma ghost.
Speaker 3 (19:33):
Grandma ghost, but it was like a lady, so she
didn't know the grandma.
Speaker 1 (19:37):
Yeah, but I also bet like the mom just needed
to feel better about it being just some random old lady.
Speaker 2 (19:42):
Yeah, exactly.
Speaker 1 (19:42):
They're just like no stranger ghosts whoever used.
Speaker 3 (19:45):
To somebody used to live in that basement. She's like,
I'm a renter, but I'm gonna make you feel better.
Speaker 1 (19:50):
So as your ghost stories, your story based falling down
stairs stories.
Speaker 3 (19:54):
You're being a little kid and your brother puts your
life in danger because he's lazy and a teenage boy.
Speaker 1 (20:00):
My favorite murder at Gmail, and thank you guys for listening.
Speaker 2 (20:03):
Stay sexy and don't get murdered.
Speaker 1 (20:05):
Goodbye, Elvis. Do you want to cookie?
Speaker 2 (20:15):
This has been an exactly right production.
Speaker 1 (20:17):
Our senior producer is Molly Smith and Our associate producer
is Tessa Hughes.
Speaker 2 (20:20):
Our editor is Aristotle Ascevedo.
Speaker 1 (20:22):
This episode was mixed by Leona Scuolacci.
Speaker 3 (20:25):
Email your hometowns to My Favorite Murder at gmail dot com.
Speaker 1 (20:27):
Follow the show on Instagram at My Favorite Murder.
Speaker 3 (20:30):
Listen to My Favorite Murder on the iHeartRadio app, Apple
Podcasts or wherever you get.
Speaker 1 (20:34):
Your podcasts, or watch us on YouTube. Search for My
Favorite Murder and then like and subscribe. Goodbye,
Hello, and welcome to my favorite Murder the minisode. That's right,
we read you any story you send us.
Speaker 2 (00:23):
That's right.
Speaker 3 (00:23):
It has to be an email form though, that's the rule.
Speaker 1 (00:26):
That's right.
Speaker 2 (00:27):
Do you want me to go first?
Speaker 1 (00:28):
Sure?
Speaker 3 (00:28):
Okay, this one is really quite something. The subject line
is the call is coming from inside the house to
the MFM crew and the hairy beasts in parentheses K
nine feline and facial. And then it says, missus Stephen,
that bring you joy. And then it says, okay, the
calls will be referring to thankfully did not come from
(00:50):
inside my house. But you'll understand after reading my story
why I cannot watch the movie when a stranger calls
without a team of backup quantities of black Box wine
to drink and res my feet on. That's so hilarious
because I think they just mean box wine, but then
they're like referencing black Box from a plane, so it's
kind of like the really important wine. Oh, I get
(01:11):
it black Box wine or something else. I'm not sure
if that's what I'm assuming. Okay, it says I grew
up in a small town called Hopewell Junction in the
Hudson Valley, of New York. When I was in high school,
my stay home mom went back to work and I
would come home to an empty house For about an hour.
I would usually hang out in our raised ranches downstairs
family room, watching General Hospital and talking to my friends
(01:33):
on the phone.
Speaker 2 (01:33):
That's all we did after school.
Speaker 3 (01:36):
The only phone downstairs, oddly, was in our laundry room,
you know, the yellow one attached.
Speaker 2 (01:40):
The wall with the curly court ours was yellow too.
Speaker 3 (01:44):
One afternoon after school, I was expecting a call from
a boy who would be my boyfriend on and off
for the next year. The phone rang and I ran
to get it, then, of course, waited a few beats
before picking it up. Should this boy think I was
too anxious, which of course I was. I answered Hello,
and I was greeted with Hello, I said again, trying
to sound flirty yet slightly above being bothered. No answer,
(02:06):
just silence. I hung up, deflated. The phone rang again
before I could sit down. I picked it right up
and said, slightly annoyed Hello. A man's voice, deep and monotone.
This part's dirty. So if you are a mother with
children in the backseat of your car, turn the radio
down now. The man says, he whispers, do you want
to fuck?
Speaker 2 (02:27):
What?
Speaker 3 (02:27):
I said, thinking of nothing else to say, and hoping
I was hearing in correctly, he says it again.
Speaker 2 (02:33):
I hung up. I was stuck to the spot, terrified.
Speaker 3 (02:36):
This didn't sound like a prank call from one of
my schoolmates, although my parents later would say that it
was Stevie from down the street, who.
Speaker 2 (02:42):
Was an asshole and a pervert. They said.
Speaker 3 (02:45):
I jumped up onto the washing machine and I sat
looking out the ground level window into the backyard. I
was there when my mom came home half an hour later.
I was too afraid to move. This was before the
days of screening and voicemail. A ringing phone could mean
a best friend or a boyfriend car. There were more
calls over the next three days, always when I was
home alone, asking over and over again that same dirty question,
(03:08):
until the third day, when as I was about to
hang up before he could ask yet again, he said,
I think I might want to hurt you. Needless to say,
I spent the next two afternoons with a friend at
her house. My parents had a camping trip coming up,
and it was supposed to be the first time that
I would be left home alone for a couple of days.
I had been so excited about it, but not a
(03:29):
fucking chance that was happening. Now. I was sent down
the street to say with my grandparents, and I could
not have been happier for me until recently the story ended.
There no more calls. Eventually I returned to General hospital
and phone gossip in the afternoons. But a few months ago,
more than thirty years later, my mom and I were
sharing a bottle of or three of wine and talking
(03:50):
about how hard it was to be the mom of
a teenage daughter. My mom said, I can't even tell
you how scared I was when you were in high
school and had that horrible caller.
Speaker 1 (04:00):
Oh my god.
Speaker 2 (04:01):
She proceeded to tell.
Speaker 3 (04:02):
Me that when she and my dad had gotten home
from their camping weekend all those years ago, my mom
went downstairs to do the laundry. She found the laundry
room's windows screen had been cut, and that it looked
like someone had tried to pry the window open with
a screwdriver.
Speaker 1 (04:16):
Oh my god.
Speaker 3 (04:17):
My parents called the police, who proceeded to watch our
house unbeknownst to me, for a week or so. My
mom also took some extra vacation time off, which I
now remember. We watched General Hospital together.
Speaker 2 (04:28):
It was nice.
Speaker 1 (04:29):
My god, my mom would have told me. Yeah, I
love that she didn't tell her.
Speaker 3 (04:33):
My mom totally would have told me, and she'd be like,
and so if something happens, here's the plan. Thankfully, my
gentleman caller either moved on to someone else or died,
perhaps rightfully vicious and untimely death. Love your voices, your views,
and your vibe. Stay sexy, and don't answer the phone
until your mom gets home, Leanne, Who was it? Also
(04:54):
like the parents keeping the huge just shoe drop from
that story.
Speaker 1 (04:58):
And being like so chill about it. They even went
on their vacation. Yeah, but they sent her to the grandparents. Like,
pretending to be chill for your child's sake is like
such a gift.
Speaker 3 (05:08):
Well, and also that's back in the time when it
was like Peeping Tom was supposed to be funny and
that a prank caller was just it's just some boy
in your class, Like no one treating any of that
stuff like they should.
Speaker 1 (05:21):
And the fact that he only called when she was
home alone means she was probably being watched. Yeah too,
so it probably was a neighbor. But that doesn't mean
that's not a good thing.
Speaker 2 (05:29):
No, it isn't so scary.
Speaker 1 (05:30):
Oh, oh my god, how terrifying. Okay, this one is
called thank you re placent A donation. Oh hey, team,
I normally listened to your podcast in the car, but
as I was listening to the latest Minisoda yesterday, I
got home with only a few minutes left on the show,
so I paused. This morning home from work with a cold,
I picked up the episode again and Georgia began talking
(05:51):
about placented donations to train cadaver dogs. Remember the minisoda
I did a few weeks back. I'm so glad I
wasn't on my way to work because I immediately burst into
tea in my kitchen. Almost a year to the day
before I started listening to your podcast, a close friend
had gone missing. Her home a clear crime scene. It
took hours for the police to find her buried in
the backyard. Those hours of waiting are dreadful. Your brain
(06:14):
can't comprehend what's happening, so you feel some sense of
hope that it's not real, but you're also so sick
with worry that you know you couldn't be in the situation.
If there wasn't a chance that the worst had happened.
In the end, the absolute worst had happened. My friend
was killed in a violent crime that had nothing to
do with her. It is terrible for this to happen
(06:35):
to anyone, but Emily was truly filled with light. She
maybe you want to be as good as she saw you.
I have lived through that panic of searching for a
missing loved one twice now, and to know that I,
at twelve weeks pregnant, can soon help other families in
that situation gives me greater relief and joy than I
can describe. Thank you to Lauren for a message that
(06:56):
felt timed just for me, and to the MFM team
for the platform on which to share it. SSDGM Elisa, Wow,
I know it's like you think you're just writing a
story about a placenta and then you're actually making people
cry in their kitchen.
Speaker 3 (07:10):
Well, and also like we're just passing the word that
this is a thing you can do a way to help.
Speaker 1 (07:17):
And then she's like it gets to the right person.
Speaker 2 (07:20):
God, amazing.
Speaker 3 (07:24):
We're going to go to a trash dad world now.
So it's a bit of a turn, right, Let's go
This is howdi ho Murdery knows. Your recent call for
accidental kidnapping stories reminded me of the time I framed
my trash dad for kidnapping. Here's the story. It's the
late eighties and I'm around two years old, doing my
best to make my mom's life miserable. She was apparently
complaining about the excellent work I was doing in this
(07:44):
regard to my dad, who had the goal to respond
that I was a perfect angel, so my mom must
not know how to handle me. Knowing a trash dad
statement when she heard one, my mom replied that my
dad could take me with him and do the grocery shopping.
Speaker 2 (07:58):
Then genius.
Speaker 3 (08:00):
As my dad tells the story, the grocery shopping went
fine until we went to leave and I noticed one
of those old fashioned little rides that they used to
have in front of stores and insisted, Daddy, Daddy, I
want to ride the horsey since I'd been so good.
My dad figured why not and put in a quarter.
I ecstatically rode that little mechanical horse until the time
ran out. They are pretty amazing. Yeah, those old ones
(08:21):
really are kind of like us. It's a little kid,
my god, it's a good action, but then the horse
is so real looking. Yeah, it's like kept getting a
single merry go around or the one that.
Speaker 1 (08:30):
Would just go in a circle with the little seat.
Oh my god, it felt like you were on the
top of the fucking world.
Speaker 2 (08:35):
Yeah, I was a little baby, Okay.
Speaker 3 (08:38):
My dad complied with my demands a couple of times
until he was out of quarters and patients. He tried
to calmly explain to me that it was time to
go my trash. Dad apparently was unaware that you can't
reason with terrorists or two year olds. I refused to
get off the mechanical horse, crying about making the ride
go again, until my dad finally grabbed me and threw
me over his shoulder. I took this as my cue
to start screaming hell, help me, oh my god, and
(09:02):
reaching out in desperation to anyone and everyone in that
grocery store parking lot. Realizing how this must look, my
dad hurried towards his truck before anyone could call the police. No,
which is also what a real kidnapper would do. So
not helping yourself look less sas there, dad. Unfortunately, these
were the days before power locks or seat belts were standard,
(09:22):
let alone car seats, and I was clever enough to
know how to pull up the lock and on the
car door and escape out the side before my dad
could get in behind the wheel.
Speaker 1 (09:32):
Oh my god, I.
Speaker 3 (09:33):
Don't know how long this Scooby dooe skit of chasing
me around the car went on, but eventually he managed
to keep me in long enough to get us on
the road before any sirens pulled up.
Speaker 2 (09:43):
So this is a two year old with no car seat.
Speaker 3 (09:46):
Yeah, just get in and like stand on the seat
like you did on the ride.
Speaker 1 (09:50):
Here, and then unlocking it and running into a busy
parking lot because it's so funny and fine and oh
my god.
Speaker 3 (09:55):
I had to have parking lot danger explained to me
so many times as a kid, because I would just
suddenly get an idea and be like, now I need
to be back at the.
Speaker 2 (10:03):
Car really fast.
Speaker 3 (10:05):
Needless to say, by the time we got home, my
dad was too trash dad to admit he was wrong,
but he did swear to my mom that he was
never taking me to the store again. Oh my dad,
Jeff passed away three years ago, and while he was
definitely a trash dad, although I think in this story,
I was more of a trash kid. I still miss
him every day. Sharing the stories he liked to tell
(10:26):
like this one helps keep him close. I hope you
enjoyed it. Stay sexy, and believe your wife when she
says your kid is a pain in the ass. Ivy, Oh, ivy, ivy,
you had a real good dad.
Speaker 1 (10:38):
I love the mom be like, oh really, yeah, then
how about.
Speaker 2 (10:41):
Why don't you take her? Yeah, and enjoy yourself as
store goes.
Speaker 1 (10:44):
Yeah, well, I had a kidnapper one as well. Okay, okay,
A few weeks ago you asked for kidnapping stories, so
here's mine. In spring twenty seventeen, my best friend and
I planned a girl's weekend in Stockholm, Sweden, Sweden, and
true celebratory spirit, we ordered champagne on a two and
a half hour flight, and we were happily tipsy by
the time we landed. In hysterics. We made our way
(11:07):
to immigration, desperately trying to compose ourselves. I handed over
my passport and stepped into one of those glass airlock
booths basically just a mini jail that opens only when
you're cleared. You know what I'm talking about. My door opened,
I was free. My friend stepped in next, and that's
when the immigration officer started frowning, glancing from her to
the computer, then back again. I joked, Oh, they don't
(11:29):
want you in the country. You're in travel. Don't go
through immigration drunk.
Speaker 2 (11:33):
No jokes.
Speaker 3 (11:34):
If you're gonna be drunk, no joke, no jokes. No
you're not funny. No nothing is funny. No, they're not
going to be funny. Noth you.
Speaker 1 (11:41):
Then the officer picked up the phone. Within seconds, armed
police surrounded us. We were scored to a small room
and seated across from two uniformed officers. Still half laughing,
we nervously cracked jokes, trying to figure out what we
could possibly have done. That's when they said it. They
believed I had kidnapped my best friend and was trapping
her out of the uk Q stun silence, I stammered, what, No,
(12:05):
we have return tickets because apparently traffickers always buy around trips.
Then came the twist. The officer explained that my friend
had triggered an Interpol alert. She'd been reported missing in
twenty fifteen, and then it clicked back in July twenty fifteen,
her birthday. She'd gone out celebrating with an old friend,
partied for two straight days and completely lost track of time.
Speaker 2 (12:27):
What birthday was it?
Speaker 1 (12:28):
Yeah? Meanwhile, our group was frantically calling everyone we knew,
and by Sunday morning we reported her missing to the police.
When she finally came home thinking it was still Saturday.
Speaker 2 (12:38):
Oh oh the cocaine.
Speaker 1 (12:40):
She was shocked by the panic she'd caused. The police
closed the case, or so we thought. Apparently someone forgot
to tell Interpol. After a few phone calls and some
awkward laughter, they confirmed everything. I was not a kidnapper,
my friend was not a trafficking victim, and we were
finally released, escorted back by some very handsome Swedish office
(13:00):
who found the whole thing just as funny as we did. Oh,
we did what any sane woman would do after being
detained for fake kidnapping. We went straight from more champagne
and carried on with our girls' weekend. Stay safe and
don't let your best friends sell you into the human
trafficking market. Goodbye, Anna, Marie.
Speaker 2 (13:16):
Anna, Marie, you joke?
Speaker 3 (13:18):
Now?
Speaker 2 (13:18):
Yeah, what if that was an international incident? Also? I
love the way they lock in.
Speaker 3 (13:22):
The person that's kidnapped, and the kidnapper is just over
there hanging out.
Speaker 2 (13:26):
No one puts that together.
Speaker 1 (13:27):
No no, no, yeah, like both of you get over here.
Speaker 3 (13:32):
Okay, this story is pretty epic. I'm not going to
read you the subject line. It starts Dear Karen and Georgia.
When I was a freshman in high school, I went
to school in an old prison, and then in parentheses
it says in true murderingo fashion. Who. However, it was
in a small town in rural North Carolina, so it
wasn't as bad as it sounds. Basically, it was just
a building with tiny barred windows and cinderblock walls everywhere
(13:54):
you looked. Well. One day, on my way to class,
I was cutting up with my best friend Abina, per
usual and running late. We were turning out a corner
in the empty hallway when I made a particularly funny joke.
As I turned to make sure that she was indeed laughing,
I tripped over my nerd tastic rolling book bag and
walked face first into the cinder block wall. No problem,
(14:15):
I thought, you trip all the time. Everything's fine. That
is until I backed away from the wall spit one
of my front teeth into the palm of my hand.
That's right, I had walked into the cinder block wall
with my mouth open and chipped off over half my
front tooth. Panic set in the world was spinning. I
had only had my braces off for a few months now,
and I was going to go around looking like a
(14:36):
hillbilly for the rest of my life. I was fourteen,
and my life as I knew it was already over.
Speaker 2 (14:42):
As I re situated the.
Speaker 3 (14:43):
Offending rolling book bag, I took off in a mad
dash that would hopefully keep me from seeing any of
my fellow classmates who would want to stop and chat. Unfortunately,
my luck that day was bad and getting worse. I
turned the corner in a hurry and ran smack dab
into the boy that I had the big crush on,
nearly toppling us both. I awkwardly tucked my upper lip
(15:04):
over my teeth to hide my new gap, grunted sorry
without making eye contact, and proceeded to run like the wind.
After giving my principal a heart attack, she called my
mom and I was eventually whisked away to the dentist
in between sobs, informing my mom that I would never
be able to smile again. I remember to ask about
our fifteen year old dog, Nick, that had been sick,
(15:26):
and at the vet. I had not quite used up
enough bad luck that day, because that's when she handed
me his collar out of her purse and told.
Speaker 2 (15:34):
Me that he had passed away.
Speaker 3 (15:35):
No needless to say, I was a wreck at the
dentist's office. I couldn't enjoy all the attention I was getting,
as every employee had to stop by my room to
see the girl who had knocked her tooth out simply
by walking into a wall. Miraculously, the break in my
tooth was so clean that my dentist was able to
glue my front tooth fragment back on, and it is
still holding on to this day. Oh and the boy
(15:58):
that I nearly mowed down in the school hallway, he
is now my husband, Oh my god, and anytime I
pick on him for doing something embarrassing, he isn't shy
to say, at least my front tooth isn't one, being
all together with super glue. Cheers to you, fabulous ladies
and all the ways you've brought joy to my life
and countless others. I can honestly say that I wouldn't
be the person I am today without y'all stay sexy
(16:20):
and don't use a rolling book bag, Jennifer, And then
it says, ps, I could never use a rolling book
bag again.
Speaker 2 (16:27):
And then here's a picture.
Speaker 3 (16:28):
Of her as a fourteen year old with a broken tooth.
Speaker 1 (16:30):
Oh oh, she a little baby. She looks pretty stoked.
Or she's on good dentist drugs.
Speaker 3 (16:36):
Yeah, I wonder what's going on. She's like, hah, it's
kind of funny. For a second, the idea that it's
her future husband.
Speaker 2 (16:42):
The was the cutest, cutest.
Speaker 1 (16:44):
And I wonder if you're like running into him and
blowing him off, like made him go like, oh, who's that?
She didn't talk to me?
Speaker 3 (16:49):
She hasn't she being nice to me? I must know
more about her, right.
Speaker 1 (16:52):
Okay, this one my last one. I'm not going to
read you this up jacked. Hello everyone. When I was
about four years old, my mom worked overnights, and so
I would sleep in her bed, which was on the
first floor, while all my older siblings would sleep upstairs.
My mom's room had two doors, where one led into
the living room, while the other was a door that
opened up to the basement. I was half asleep one
(17:15):
night and had to use the bathroom, and my four
year old self used the wrong door and fell down
a full flight of cement basement stairs and hit the
wall at the bottom. Like these days, I feel like
they would have child proved that door, like when they
were pregnant. Entirely, I don't remember what happened next, but
when I woke up, I was in the hospital and
my mom filled me in. She said, my brother's dog,
(17:38):
who conveniently enough, we just adopted two days before, must
have heard me crying in the basement and would not
stop barking for over an hour until my brother became
so annoyed and was going to put her outside. And
when he came downstairs, he heard me crying and found
me down there, almost bleeding to death, and they took
me to the hospital. I took an hour for the
brother to get out of bed to stop the dog barking.
(18:00):
That's such a brother thing.
Speaker 2 (18:01):
Constant barking. But the parents are get out of bed.
Speaker 1 (18:03):
No, they weren't there. They were working overnight.
Speaker 2 (18:05):
Oh sorry, I wasn't paying attention.
Speaker 1 (18:09):
I had lost a lot of blood and suffered a
bad concussion. Holy shit, my mom said she thought I
was weirdly calm and didn't seem very shooken up by it.
And so she asked, were you scared being down there
in the basement. Remember she's four years old. And though
I remember nothing, my mom swore I replied with quote, no.
The lady that was down there with me kept telling
me it was going to be okay, and stayed with
(18:31):
me until someone came. She was the best what my
mom couldn't believe it, and she said she grilled me
about it more later, and I slowly started forgetting more
details about the lady and everything that happened. But my
grandma had just passed away not even a year before that,
and my mom truly believes it was her that helped
calm me down during that time.
Speaker 2 (18:53):
A little baby in the basement.
Speaker 1 (18:55):
Dying, dying. I just thank god that we got that
dog a few days before, because otherwise the doctor said
I would have bled out after a bit longer. And
even though I suffered a head injury, I promise I'm
not a murderer and we'll continue to SSDGM. Thank you ladies.
You make my work day fly by. Okay, Okay, that
ghost was like keeping her awake, too, which is what
(19:17):
you do when you have a concussion.
Speaker 2 (19:18):
Right, that's right, you can't go to sleep.
Speaker 1 (19:19):
So she's just like, everything's gonna be okay, Stay calm.
Speaker 2 (19:22):
Stay calm.
Speaker 3 (19:23):
We'll just have this dog bark for fifty more minutes
till your goddamn brother gets out of bak.
Speaker 1 (19:27):
Don't panic because then your blood will fucking pump out
faster like this ghosts Grandma ghost.
Speaker 3 (19:33):
Grandma ghost, but it was like a lady, so she
didn't know the grandma.
Speaker 1 (19:37):
Yeah, but I also bet like the mom just needed
to feel better about it being just some random old lady.
Speaker 2 (19:42):
Yeah, exactly.
Speaker 1 (19:42):
They're just like no stranger ghosts whoever used.
Speaker 3 (19:45):
To somebody used to live in that basement. She's like,
I'm a renter, but I'm gonna make you feel better.
Speaker 1 (19:50):
So as your ghost stories, your story based falling down
stairs stories.
Speaker 3 (19:54):
You're being a little kid and your brother puts your
life in danger because he's lazy and a teenage boy.
Speaker 1 (20:00):
My favorite murder at Gmail, and thank you guys for listening.
Speaker 2 (20:03):
Stay sexy and don't get murdered.
Speaker 1 (20:05):
Goodbye, Elvis. Do you want to cookie?
Speaker 2 (20:15):
This has been an exactly right production.
Speaker 1 (20:17):
Our senior producer is Molly Smith and Our associate producer
is Tessa Hughes.
Speaker 2 (20:20):
Our editor is Aristotle Ascevedo.
Speaker 1 (20:22):
This episode was mixed by Leona Scuolacci.
Speaker 3 (20:25):
Email your hometowns to My Favorite Murder at gmail dot com.
Speaker 1 (20:27):
Follow the show on Instagram at My Favorite Murder.
Speaker 3 (20:30):
Listen to My Favorite Murder on the iHeartRadio app, Apple
Podcasts or wherever you get.
Speaker 1 (20:34):
Your podcasts, or watch us on YouTube. Search for My
Favorite Murder and then like and subscribe. Goodbye,
Hosts And Creators
Georgia Hardstark
Karen Kilgariff
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