7 Teeth: Thanksgiving Asylum Horror Story

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Paper, turkeys sway, the janga tower tips, and somewhere outside
a tent zipper screams. The lights flicker, a shadow lifts
a hatchet and whispers Happy Thanksgiving. The door locks behind

(00:21):
you and on the floor, that's not cranberry sauce.

Speaker 2 (00:26):
What's that you want to be scared? He come with me.
You will experience tales over over a ghosts and it
is not recommended for the weeded art listeners in the

(00:55):
dark ark. It's more fun than Way Way Way. This
is Weekly Spooky.

Speaker 1 (01:09):
Hello, my spookies, It's Wednesday, and you know what that means.
It's time for a little spooky in your weekly I'm
your host and narrator, Enrique Kuto. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and
I hope all you spookies are going to have a
very fun and safe holiday. If you happen to be

(01:31):
traveling or preparing large meals, well, I have a twisted
tale that you won't want to eat during but will
help uneventful tasks become twisted and scary. And now I'm
here to announce officially that every day until Christmas, there

(01:51):
will be a show to listen to right here on
Weekly Spooky. About a dozen scary stories and novellas as
well as our this Week and horror History are terrifying
and true which will all be Christmas themed folklore and
true terror and of course some cutting deep into horror
episodes all about Christmas favorites you may have missed out on,

(02:14):
so make sure you're subscribed right here for your source
for Christmas horror, and I do want to mention this
episode is sponsored by Save Arista Coffee delicious high quality,
bold flavored coffee in half calf or decalf for those
who want their shivers to strictly come from a scary

(02:34):
story and not from caffeine. Head to save Aista dot
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it supports the show directly. That's Savearista dot Com promo
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and thank you Save a Rista for supporting the show. Now.

(02:57):
As for tonight, imagine a locked up ward trying to
look cheerful, paper Turkey's taped to cinderblock walls, a TV
mumbling a holiday movie, and a Jenga game waiting for
steady hands. Now, imagine the night shift goes quiet, the

(03:21):
wreck room door clicks shut from the outside. What if
the only thing left behind was a neat, little pile
of seven hard rattling souvenirs. Tonight, follow the fresh footprints
through the snow to the record's office, and be thankful

(03:44):
if you're good at tabletop games. Seventeenth by David O'Hanlon.
Richard de Paul had been a patient at the Metropolitan
Psychiatric Hospital for thirty three years. Only Melvin Watts had

(04:09):
been there longer. Richard didn't like Melvin. He won every
game they played and was actually Loony Tunes crazy, not
like Richard. His situation had just been a big misunderstanding.
Fifteen year old Richard had told his parents the new

(04:30):
house was bad, but they hadn't listened. He didn't want
to move to Nantucket in the first place, and they
thought he was acting out. Once those horrible wriggling things
in the soil had crawled into the brains of his family,
Richard had tried to get help. He'd told everyone about

(04:52):
the evil worms that lived in his backyard. No one
believed him, however. In fact, they tried to lock him
up for even talking about it. The worms had gotten
to them too, Richard figured. With the town under parasitic control,

(05:13):
Richard had to rid his parents and four siblings of
the parasites himself. He'd taken as much care as he
could when he'd cracked their skulls open with a splitting maul.
Apparently he still hadn't been careful enough. Oh well, he'd

(05:34):
saved them from the worms, and that was what mattered.
Apparently he'd even gotten the queen or master or whatever
bizarre monarch they followed, because the rest of the town
returned to normal soon after. No one remembered being under
the control of the worms. Unfortunately, he had saved Nantucket

(05:58):
and possibly the entire world. There was no sense crying
over spilled brain matter. Besides, the asylum had its perks.
Richard had volunteered for a study on the psychiatric benefits
of psilocybin mushrooms for starters, he also got to spend
most of his day outside. They let him keep a

(06:21):
cat in his room, there was always orange jello at lunch,
and they had a fuck tent. The tent started out
as just blankets and broom handles and had been something
of a game between the staff and the patients. The
orderlies would find it and tear it down, only for

(06:41):
someone to set up a new one somewhere else on
the grounds. After a small outbreak of chlamydia, doctor Chambers
decided to start handing out birth control and condoms with
the daily medications. Since it was obvious the tent was
going to remain a permanent fixture of the hospital, the

(07:02):
doctors had even given them a proper one to protect
against the elements. It had been a big boost to morale,
and the therapy sessions had become more and more productive as
a result. Even though Richard had never personally been invited
to the tent, he still visited it regularly. Sitting in

(07:25):
the gently falling half frozen rain, he giggled at the
way his erection pitched up the front of his poncho.
It was too cold to keep the front of the
tent open, but the electric lantern cast the whole scene
on the nylon like pornographic shadow puppets. Richard found that

(07:45):
somehow more scandalous than his normal voyeurism. He tugged his
thermals down enough to free the throbbing organ and gripped
it with his mittened hand from the voluminous silhouette riding
cow girl. Richard was certain it was Big Jenny inside.
The plummeting temperatures weren't going to be an issue. He'd

(08:09):
caught several of her performances in the tent and hadn't
lasted more than three minutes even once. Big Jenny had
unnatural athleticism for her size. She was grinding some lucky
son of a bitch straight into the earth while whooping
like Annie Oakley. Her shadow leaned forward, letting her gargantuan

(08:34):
breasts smother whoever was underneath her. Richard heard a muffled
voice shouting between the meaty boulders. He couldn't make out
the words, but whatever the man was saying was working
for Jenny. Richard stroking quickened to match the pace of
Jenny's ass, slamming down on her partner. Thunderclaps of flesh

(09:00):
punctuated the sounds of drizzling sleet. Jenny sat upright, arching
her back and cutting loose and wore gasmic howl. Her
erect nipples cast long shadows across the tent, and that
was all it took. Richard wrestled with his poncho to
get it clear of his expulsions. He convulsed and then

(09:25):
collapsed against the tree trunk, Still weakly pumping at himself.
He watched as Jenny dismounted and moved onto all fours.
The show wasn't over, Richard cursed under his breath. He'd
never made it to the end of one of Big
Jenny's performances. It wasn't a stamina issue. He'd once whacked

(09:49):
it for over three hours straight watching Nurse Horn, after all.
He eyed the curves of Jenny's body and twisted the slick,
soiled bitten around his deflating member. Big Jenny was one
hell of a woman. She'd left a pair of her
panties in the tent once Richard had squirreled them away

(10:12):
under his pillow. Some nights he didn't even bother going
to the tent to see a show and just stayed
in his room with the underwear tied over his nose
and mouth. The icy pellet stung on his bare flesh,
but he wanted to watch just a little longer. Maybe

(10:34):
she'd leave behind a fresh pair of muff covers for him.
Jenny's face went down to the floor. What are you
waiting for? She purred like an old alley cat. Richard
watched Jenny's lover rise to his knees behind her. Then
he saw a new silhouette and stared at it stupidly.

(11:00):
He'd peeped on a lot of people in the tent
and seen a lot of strange things, including an assortment
of industrious home made sex toys, but he'd never seen
anything like that shadow, except once he'd see the exact
same thing cast on the living room wall. When he'd

(11:23):
seen a similar tool to Jenny. He shouted, but it
was too late. The hatchet came down and fluid sprayed
across the nylon. The man swung again and again. Richard
scrambled to his feet, struggling with his thermals as he

(11:44):
ran for the main building. The cracks of breaking bones
melded with the racket of the sleet, now coming down
in sheets. Richard fell up the front steps. The long
johns wriggled down his legs, and he tried to kick
them off, which only tangled them around his ankles. Richard

(12:04):
screamed for help. He pressed himself up to his knees
when the front door opened. Suddenly, what the hell is
going on out there? Johnny Washington asked. Richard waddled to
the orderly on his knees and grabbed the man's shirt,
climbing up it like a housecat until he was standing

(12:25):
and squeezing Johnny's face between his mittens. You you have
to help, Okay, Okay, calm down, Richie. Johnny pushed Richard
to arm's length and held him by the elbows. I
need you to be cool. And why are your pants down? Richie?
We have to get the guards. We have to go

(12:46):
out to the fuck tent. The fuck tent. Johnny was
suddenly all too aware of the moist, sticky sensation on
his cheek. He rubbed at it with obvious revolt. Dude,
is this fucking jiz? It's the brainworms, Johnny, they're here.

(13:08):
Richard shoved Johnny out of the way and shuffled into
the building. They murdered Big Jenny. The brainworms. They made
them chopper up. That was the last thing he said
before he felt the needlestick. The thorazine worked fast, and
he was asleep before he could feel his nose breaking

(13:30):
on the cold linoleum. I think we can forego any
further investigation. Doctor Chambers said solemnly, Richard had a relapse.
He was having such a good run of things too,

(13:52):
a relapse. Johnny repeated, I don't think that's what happened, sir.
I mean, I've known Richie Richard since I started working
here fourteen years, and he ain't never been violent or
aggressive with nobody. He's the one that came for help
with his pants down. Chambers sighed and leaned back in

(14:16):
his oversized desk chair. Mister Washington, you said it yourself.
He admitted to being at the fornication tent and he
was ranting about brain worms. You were made privy to
Richard's case history when you started, were you not. Johnny hesitated,

(14:38):
then gave a tentative nod. I was. But that was
over thirty years ago, sir. You should have seen him,
doctor Chambers. He was. He was scared shitless. The doctor
scowled at him. Your colorful diagnosis of Richard's mental state. Notwithstanding,

(14:59):
there are considerations, mister Washington. When we searched Richard's room,
we discovered a rather personal item of Jennifer's under his mattress.
What kind of personal item, Johnny asked, Are you sure
it's hers. Doctor Chambers removed a plastic evidence bag from

(15:21):
a cardboard filing box. He shook out the contents and
held the panties up with both of his hands. There
aren't any initials in them, but I think it's a
safe assumption that they belonged to Jennifer. Yeah, all right,
those are definitely Big Jenny's drawers. Johnny slumped in his seat.

(15:45):
Don't worry, Richard, Chambers reassured him. We won't be involving
the police. Johnny snapped forward on the edge of his seat.
You can't just not tell the cops. Of course I can.
Chambers dropped the evidence back into the box. If I

(16:05):
contacted them, they would come to the same conclusion I have.
Richard is essentially serving a life sentence for the murders
of his family. There is nothing that can be added
to that. And what about Big Jenny. We will provide
her with a proper funeral and notify any relatives of
her tragic passing. They will be saddened, but understanding given

(16:30):
her weight and history of drug abuse. Chambers gage Johnny's
body language and sighed, honestly, mister Washington, would you prefer
the truth if you were in their shoes, knowing that
she was brutally hacked up and suffered excruciating pain at
the hands of a murderer who can never be punished,

(16:52):
or would you like to hear that she passed peaceably
in her sleep? Man, this is Johnny rested his head
in his hands. We can't just sweep it under the rug.
I understand your concerns. Chambers laced his fingers together over
his chest. If you would like me to proceed according

(17:15):
to procedure, I will begrudgingly comply. There will be a
formal investigation, of course, that means a thorough look into
our culpability. I'm sure you're aware of Senator Boulder's recent
investigations into the state's mental health services. Any opportunity to

(17:36):
hold someone on the staff accountable would greatly strengthen the
Senator's allegations. Richard cannot be punished for Miss Howard's death,
but the orderly on duty a few hundred yards from
her murder could be you mother. Johnny snapped up with
his fists clenched. He slowly let them relax and kicked

(18:01):
the desk. Guess that wraps this up, then, like a
perfect little present fitting given the season. Chambers turned in
his chair to stare out the ice over window, speaking
of which tomorrow is Thanksgiving? Will you be attending the
staff dinner? Guess that depends whether the orderly that was

(18:25):
on duty one hundred yards from a murder still has
a job. He wouldn't, Chambers stated bluntly. The orderly that
was on duty during a tragic heart attack would, however,
guess I'll see you there, Doc Johnny said with a smirk.

(18:46):
It was a small victory, but he knew the doctor's
disdain for the diminutive title. Johnny walked to the door
and opened it. That served as enough of an invitation
for Grant Lister, the head of the hospital's minuscule security team.

(19:07):
The guard shouldered past him with a half assed apology.
With his horseshoe of graying hair and thick unibrow, Grant
reminded Johnny of Sam Eagle from the Muppets. Johnny scoffed
at the man and walked out. We took care of
the tent, Sir Grant said, as soon as the door closed.

(19:30):
The crazies aren't going to be happy. Get the word
out that it was on account of the weather. We'll
get them one better suited for the cold. Surely one
of your malfisons is competent enough to purchase a tent.
Maybe I should send a couple of them, just to
be sure. You know, lots of the nuts are going

(19:51):
to be cracked up about Big Jenny. Grant snickered at
his cleverness. Do you have a point? Chain asked, maybe
we can name the new tent after her or something.
What do you think that might boost their morale? Perhaps
we should leave the mental health concerns of our patients

(20:13):
to the professionals. Chambers said, where are we on the
Anne Davis situation? Same place we were when the Senator
brought it up three months ago. Sir Grant bleue dramatically
across his palm. She vanished into thin air. I had
a discharge form worked up and buried it in a

(20:34):
random box in the basement. We can say it was
a simple clerical error on our part. Destroy it. Chambers
spun his chair around. Bolder wants to prove that we
are incompetent. You want to show him we can't even
file paperwork. Sorry, sir, it was the best I could

(20:56):
come up with. Bolder won't be able to gather his
lynch mob until after New Year's Chambers told him, you
will have a better plan before then. Ten four Boss.
The wreck room used to be calm and docile until

(21:20):
Nurse Horn introduced the residence to Milton Bradley's newest game, Jenga.
It had been an instant hit, and Chambers had purchased
a dozen more sets to keep everyone occupied. Ed Hanke,
a compulsive gambler, had organized a high stakes tournament that

(21:43):
ran every week. The hospital had a small movie theater,
and the winner got to pick a double feature for
that Saturday. Aside from the official prize, the players ran
side bets for medication, smokes, snacks, and whatever else they
could think to throw into the pot. Jesus Christ Shell

(22:09):
Carter Copeland groaned. He used a discarded block to push
the dentures back to the elderly nymphomaniac. You are not
betting your dentures, of course not. I need them to chew.
Think of a more like a poker chip. You win
and you can cash them in later. She gave him

(22:31):
a wink behind the oversized lens of her bifocals. I'll
gum that hog till you're squealing all the way home, youngster. Tempting,
but maybe you could just put a couple reds on
the line. Carter gestured to the Seco barbitol Shelley had
won in her last match ed serving as referee, laughed, Shit,

(22:56):
if the new guy doesn't want the blowjob, I'll take it.
Can't have it. Shelley told him, you don't have a
snowball's chance in hell of beating me in this game.

Speaker 2 (23:07):
Ed.

Speaker 1 (23:08):
Carter tossed two cools into the pot. Fine, I'll see
the hummer and raise you. Now we got ourselves a
real game. Shelley stood up and leaned over the tower
to pick her next move. She made a show of
the process, letting everyone around the table get a good

(23:28):
look down her gown. Carter was on a ninety day
hold for evaluation after he walked into a donut shop
and started a fight with seven cops inside. Not nearly
long enough for those saggy spotted pendulums to look appealing.
Shelley paused and prodded a block, then looked at Carter.

(23:53):
She pushed her tongue rhythmically against the inside of her
jaw and pulled the block, the tower crashing across the table.
The crowd booed, and Shelley feigned surprise. Sometimes you gotta
lose to win, she could. Don't take too long coming

(24:15):
to collect Carter. I like to be in bed by seven.
Shelley sauntered away, swaying her twice replaced hips as well
as she could, before joining a circle near the wreck
room's bay window that was working on more Thanksgiving decorations.
There were already too many for Carter's taste, but everyone

(24:39):
had been working diligently to make more ahead of the
big Turkey dinner the next day. He collected his winnings,
minus the dentures, and stood to leave. He checked the
bracket on the easel to see who his next opponent
would be. Looks like I got time for a walk

(24:59):
before for my next match, he said. Send someone to
get me. When it's time, I'll be at the fountain
the fountain, Ed repeated, it's barely even forty degrees out there, exactly.
It'll lower my heart rate so I can focus, he lied.
I'll see you in an hour. Don't forget your winnings.

(25:23):
Ed hurriedly picked up the false teeth. Shelley gives the
best head in the wing she's not exactly my type,
Carter said, she will be. Ed laughed. Maybe I'm saving
myself for Nurse horn Hugh. Better make some more friends.
Ed informed him, Nurse Horny only goes for group action.

(25:47):
Say you think that means multiple Mark has a chance.
He's got like nineteen personalities, so that's basically a gang bang. Right,
that's what your mother told me. Carter dry swallowed a
pair of muscle relaxers he'd won. He got way too
much free time, Eddie, gonna have a lot more since

(26:10):
Jenny got killed. Ed said, somberly killed. Carter raised an eyebrow.
I thought Chambers said it was a heart attack. He did,
but I saw the tent when General Grant and his
dingleberries dragged it to the incinerator. Blood dripped out all

(26:31):
over the damn floor. Ed propped a foot onto the table,
showing the soles of his slip resistant sock. I stepped
in some before they could clean it up. You don't
bleed out from a heart attack, You sure don't. Carter
pocketed the dentures. The looney bin just got crazier. Carter

(26:56):
sat down on the edge of the fountain and puffed
a cigarette. To life. The menthol seemed stronger in the
frigid air. He watched the few meandering residents on the lawn.
Doctor Chambers said it was part of the therapy to
let the patients wander the grounds freely, but really it

(27:18):
was just because the hospital was an unmanageable mess. They
were housing three hundred patients in one hundred and eighty rooms,
while only six guards sharing two high school diplomas, were
responsible for the security of the entire compound. The buildings
were a century old, and trustees handled any repair. They

(27:43):
also took care of the cooking, cleaning, and landscaping to
free up funds for more nurses and orderlies, who were
mostly there to steal medications. Chambers had the only computer,
and record keeping was done by a patient volunteer on
a type with a missing K. It was no wonder

(28:03):
they'd misplaced seventeen patients in two years. Most had simply
wandered off, but Anne Davis still couldn't be accounted for.
Carter pulled the loose brick from its housing and peeled
away the plastic bag taped to its inside edge. He

(28:24):
slipped out the note inside and read it twice, committing
the information to memory before dropping it into the fountain
behind him. The note shriveled instantly, bawling in on itself
before breaking down into a white mist that drifted away completely.

(28:46):
Carter slipped his own note into the bag. He replaced
the brick with his findings nestled safely on its backside.
Carter enjoyed his cigarette while digesting what he'd just read.
His psych evaluation being conducted at the Metropolitan was no coincidence.

(29:07):
Carter was hyperthymic. He needed almost no sleep and could
work endlessly no matter how bad things got. He was
always a beacon of positivity. His brain was tuned for
high speed, high stress situations. Fear and anxiety were foreign

(29:27):
concepts that all sounds well and good until there's nothing
to do. That's when Carter would get himself into trouble.
He'd been in and out of juvie as a youth
and a judge thought a stint in the military might

(29:49):
fix things. It had too up until the conflict in
Vietnam ended. Back in the world, Carter had nothing to
keep him occupied and an extremely dangerous skill set to
put to use, so he started a business. Carter considered

(30:12):
himself a free lance secret agent. He solved problems for people,
industrial espionage, political snooping, strike breaking, leg breaking, blackmail, even
the occasional wet job. He wasn't particular, as long as
the work kept him busy. Under Cover gigs were always

(30:35):
his favorite. However, He'd spent four months raising hell within
Boston's Irish Mob until he got caught up in a
police sting. That was how he ended up on Senator
Boulder's radar. Strange things were afoot at the Metropolitan, and
the Senator needed a man on the inside. Carter closed

(30:59):
his eye. Boulder had received an anonymous letter from someone
at the Metropolitan claiming unusual deaths and disappearances at the hospital.
The Senator's investigation turned up two overdoses, four suicides, and
three accidents in less than twenty four months. They did

(31:23):
good work, but none of them could figure out what
happened to Anne Davis. Carter walked himself through the information again,
mentally retracing Anne's last known movements. Anne was a shy,
homely girl, sickly thin, with flat, straight hair the color

(31:45):
of friar grease, and a nose too small for the
freckles that sprawled across it. She'd never been popular and
occupied her time playing with matches. That's what land in
the Metropolitan. Even there, she hadn't made many friends. The

(32:07):
Jenga games were just gaining traction. Or maybe she would
have been playing that during the Christmas party. Instead, she
went out to the fuck Tent to unwrap someone's package.
According to her sister, Anne had never dated in school
or even attended a party or dance. It was likely

(32:31):
the first time anyone had shown an interest in her,
so of course she went with them. It took Carter
two weeks of careful prodding to get that information without
setting off alarms. The only problem was nobody knew who
she'd gone with, only what had happened next. He'd gotten

(32:56):
that part from Richard de Paul. There'd been a foot
of snow on the ground, but Anne had never been
to the tent before. That was a special occasion for
the Peeper, so he had diligently braved the elements to
catch her debut performance. Ritchie's recounting of the events was

(33:19):
extremely detailed, right down to the grip he'd been using
on himself When the camera flashed. It took him a
moment to understand that that is what it had been
until there was another. After the third, Anne started shouting
at whoever she was with to stop and give her

(33:42):
the pictures that meant it had been an instant camera
someone at the hospital. Someone at the hospital had taken
polaroids of Anne, and Carter was sure he'd find them
on campus. The photographer did not stop. More snapshots followed,

(34:03):
lighting up the tent and drawing desperate cries from Anne.
She fumbled out of the tent a moment later. Stark,
nude and blind with tears, she ran through the snow
until she tripped and disappeared from sight. That's when Ritchie
panicked and ran inside to get Johnny Washington. The orderly

(34:29):
called the guardhouse. The weather had been frightful, and so
had the incompetence. Carter had been at the asylum all
of a day. When he dug one of her fingernails
out of the fountain's mortar. He was sure it was hers,
from the last few chips of polish that hadn't worn off.

(34:52):
She always painted them the same dull shade of pink,
according to her sister. Carter opened his eye and looked
over his shoulder at the dead grass where the fuck
tent had been, and Davis had run in a nearly
straight line, and yet the staff couldn't find her. But

(35:16):
someone had. Hey Carter, the shaky voice said, Ed says,
it's almost time for your next match. Carter stared past
the messenger at the security stooges unpacking a new tent.
Didn't waste any time getting us a replacement. Hey man,

(35:40):
why should the turkey be the only thing getting stuffed
around here? A couple hours later, Carter was up an
entire pack of mixed smokes, two expired queludes, a hustler,
half a baby Ruth, and four twink It wasn't a

(36:01):
bad haul, and he was sitting in the finals, to
be played the next day before Thanksgiving dinner. The other
half of the bracket would be decided in the morning.
In order to determine his challenger, Carter scanned the board
and ran the odds for each He was sure he'd

(36:22):
be facing Melvin Watts based on the pairings. Melvin played
Jangle like he was sun Zoo reincarnated. His matches would
take time, and Carter could slip away to check the
dead drop before Boulder's agents took off for Thanksgiving. The

(36:43):
civil servants weren't about to pass on a paid holiday.
He thought about what their last note had said as
he went to stash his winnings. New letter arrived and
Davis dead basement filebox three zero four AF confirm finding

(37:05):
be careful x Phil Monday. The information sat sourly in
Carter's stomach. Either this new letter was from a different author,
or someone was fucking with him. Carter laid down on
his mattress and stared at the ten glow in the

(37:27):
dark stars a previous occupant had glued to the ceiling.
In Vietnam, they'd learned to sleep whenever they could. The
enemy was everywhere, watching over his long range patrol, like
monsters in closets, but sleep was a requirement. He could

(37:51):
hear the Kong in the bush, sharpening bayonets and setting traps.
It became a twisted lullaby. Night after night. Carter rolled
onto his side and let the familiarity of certain death
swaddle him as he drifted off. He was going to

(38:14):
have a busy night, and he needed a few hours
to recharge. Carter awoke a little more than four hours later.
Thanks to his condition, he needed very little sleep. He
peeked into the hallways. They were deserted, but he could

(38:38):
hear johnny stereo coming from the wreck room. Carter checked
the time to be sure, then cursed Johnny was running
behind schedule. He didn't want to hurt the orderly, but
he needed to cross the wreck room in order to
access the basement. He tiptoedal long the linoleum until he

(39:02):
could see Johnny. The man danced along with the music,
moonwalking with a plastic chair before gracefully stacking it onto
a table. Carter watched his entire Michael Jackson routine until
the song ended and Johnny struck the MJ pose with

(39:23):
a tee hee for good measure. Carter smiled malevolently. The
VC had used a lot of sneaky tricks during the war.
He'd seen guys impaled on pongee steaks and blown apart
by land mines, but a good soldier could spot a tripwire. Gonorrhea,

(39:46):
on the other hand, wouldn't start showing symptoms for two
or three days. His long range reconnaissance patrol would be
in the bush for weeks, and half the team would
be pissing razors and bleeding from the ass The most
dangerous weapon in war were your own soldiers with free

(40:09):
time and blue balls. He backtracked down the hall and
quickly jimmied the cheap lock to access the room. He
crept to the bunk and placed his hand over the
open mouth of the sleeping patient so she didn't wake
her roommate. Shelley's eyes snapped open and she started to

(40:33):
bolt upright when she realized it was Carter holding her down.
She licked his palm and quickly caught him by the
wrist when he recoiled. The octogenarian sucked Carter's index finger
with noisy slurps. She gummed the tip and moaned, keep quiet.

(40:55):
Carter whispered, don't worry about Doris. Her hearing aids are out.
Shelley purred, come to return my teeth something like that.
Johnny is having a rough go after what happened to
Jenny last night. That's a shame. Did you know I

(41:17):
don't have a gag reflex. Shelley swallowed Carter's finger again
until it tickled her uvula I do Carter jerked his
finger free with a wet pop. I need you to
do me a favor. I'm trying Okay, I need you

(41:38):
to do that favor, but do it to Johnny. Carter
produced the dentures. I'm cashing in on his behalf. He's
in the wreck room. I can't do that in there.
That would be Lewde. That's right, it would be. Carter
helped her sit up. That's why you're going to do

(42:01):
it in Horn's office. Wouldn't be the first time someone's
gotten sucked off in there, Shelley's toothless smile stretched wider,
but it will be the first time someone's enjoyed it
this much. Carter stood guard at the door while Shelley
fixed her hair top and bottom. Ten minutes later, he

(42:25):
was watching her drooping bare ass strut into the recreation room.
Carter followed a safe distance behind, but lost sight of
her as she rounded the corner. Even with the music playing,
he could hear Johnny's shocked squeal. Carter edged to the

(42:45):
corner and chanced a glance into the room. Shelley was
twisting her nipples like she was tuning a television set
as she backpedaled into Horn's office. Johnny followed her to
the door, trying to coax her out. Carter moved low
and fast ducking behind the cleaning cart. You need to

(43:11):
come out of there, or I'm going to call the nurses,
Johnny said. If they come down here, you're gonna get
the shot. That's not the prick I'm looking for. She
sang it like a nursery rhyme. Are you going to
come in here? And come in here? Carter could imagine

(43:31):
what had happened by Johnny's very loud gag. It was
time to move. He sprang from cover and dived into
a role that carried him the rest of the way.
He hoped Johnny would forgive him for the trauma, but
there was work to be done. Many of the hospital's

(43:52):
non essential doors had never been updated with modern locks.
Carter had filed a copy of the Centree old key
from a bolt he'd pulled out of his own bedframe.
It wasn't an exact match, but it was close enough.
Carter braced himself for the squeak, but the door opened smoothly.

(44:15):
He glared at the hinges. The first week after he
got sent to the hospital, he'd made it a point
to check the basement and old death tunnel. The door
had been loud as hell that night. Someone else had
been sneaking into the basement. Carter moved down the stairs cautiously.

(44:43):
Nothing really prepares you for falling down a dark staircase,
though by the time he reached the bottom his eyes
had adjusted enough to see the ambient light coming in
through the basements dingy windows. Cas nose twitched from stirring
dust and mold in the air. He pinched the bridge

(45:05):
to hold back the sneeze. The basement was a labyrinth
of unsteady shelving laden with filing boxes stuffed with patient records.
Most of them were water damaged or chewed up by rats.
Peter Lanski had done all the typing for the last

(45:26):
sixteen years he'd worked as a stenographer before having a
mental breakdown and amputating one of his legs to force
feed his overbearing mother. Carter wondered how many boxes Pete
had filled since his culinary aspirations went down the drain.

(45:47):
He could hear the rodents rustling amongst the pages and
had been missing almost a year, and there was a
good chance whatever evidence was contained in Box three zerof
had already been shredded by the vermin. Carter flicked his
lighter and scanned the nearest labels. They appeared to be

(46:12):
the oldest. He continued deeper into the half assed aisles
and repeated the process several more times, trying to find
order to the dates. After nearly an hour of wandering
the rose, he discovered the start of Pete's system. It

(46:32):
made as much sense as one could expect from a
nuthouse secretary, but it was better than nothing. Carter grabbed
a random box and jerked it from the shelf to
the stone floor. The rats had taken inspiration from the
patients and built their own version of the fuck tent inside.

(46:55):
One scurried up Carter's arm to express its displeasure with
the cock blocking human. Carter shook it off and pulled
out several pages, twisting them into a tube. The old
paper ignited easily with a touch from his bic, giving
him ample light to find the correct box. He dropped

(47:19):
the makeshift torch beside him. The pages unfurled and the
flames spread across them, spilling a tidy pool of light
for him to see buy Carter gave the box a
shake and listened for disgruntled rats before he popped off
the top. He grimaced as he lifted the polaroid and

(47:43):
looked shocked at the photographer's betrayal as she tried to
cover herself with her skinny, freckled arms. He dropped the
photo onto the burning pages, watching the film bubble up,
looked back into the box and pulled out a single

(48:04):
typed page. You got to see her. Now I see you,
You're dead, snitch. Carter looked around the room, expecting someone
to come rushing at him from the shadows. Instead, he
saw a tiny blinking light in the corner. He stood,

(48:29):
grinding the flames out under his slipper. He waved at
the security camera and now I see you too, dick weed.
Carter paused outside the security room. Whoever was inside would
be expecting him, but they didn't know what to expect

(48:54):
from him. They wouldn't have been playing games if they did.
He mule kicked the door, and when no one opened fire,
he stepped inside. You should have shot me, He fished
the pack of assorted cigarettes from his pocket. Care for one,

(49:15):
got menthol and regular. It's a filthy habit, Grant said,
turning his chair away from the bank of camera monitors
to face him. You a cop. Carter lit a cigarette
with a bemused grunt. You wish, so what then? You

(49:38):
just nosy? Grant shrugged and rose from the chair a
concerned citizen. I'm just here for the free pajamas. Slippers
are pretty comfortable. Too. Too bad you're not a cop.
Grant slid the long flashlight from his belt. Too bad

(49:58):
for you. That is a cop falling down the stairs
would be hard to explain, some random nut. That's a
different story one you've told a lot. I'm guessing Carter
took a deep pull from the cigarette. That what happened
to Anne? You make her fall down some stairs after

(50:20):
your little photo shoot? Didn't have nothing to do with that.
Grant switched on the mag light and made a rudimentary
shadow puppet of walking legs. Little Firebug ran away. Maybe
she went to one of the homeless camps. Maybe she
died from exposure. Either way, we never saw her again.

(50:45):
Were you the one with her in the tent? Wrong again?
The guard moved the light to Carter's face. You saw
the pictures. Her freckles were bigger than her tits. That's
not the kind of lay you go out in a
snowstorm for my turn to ask a question. Go for it.

(51:05):
The senator sends you here or the bitch's sister one
and then the other. Carter admitted the senator wanted proof
you dipshits were up to no good. Checked all those boxes,
so mission accomplished. The sister wanted me to find out
what happened to Anne. I'm still working on that one,

(51:28):
but you're about to tell me already. Did Grant aimed
the light at the window. She took off, probably jumped
the north wall where the oak used to reach over.
We chopped them all down after that, just to keep
any others from doing it too. Man, We looked everywhere too.

(51:49):
Don't think we didn't. We got a good thing going
for us here, free drugs, plenty of pussy, a steady paycheck.
Some naked escapee turning up in town fucked that all up.
We searched for hours and went through the woods soon
as it was light out. If she made it to
the main road, hell, who knows, some truck driver might

(52:12):
have picked her up, probably working a truck stop gloryhole
in Pennsylvania. By now, If you didn't take the pictures,
then how'd you get them? Grant looked visibly uncomfortable at
that one. Not the look of someone caught with his
hand in the cookie jar. It was the look of

(52:33):
someone holding another person's dirty laundry. Carter nodded to himself.
Grant was dumb but big. No one was going to
bully him into being their muscle. It had to be
someone with the money to afford him, or the brains
to manipulate him. Whichever the case, it's still only left

(52:57):
one option. I think it's time to get on with
your accident, Grant said, patting the light against his palm.
Carter flicked his cigarette at the guard, buying him enough
time to cover the space between them. The flashlight swished
overhead as Carter dropped low and bobbed up to deliver

(53:18):
a two punch combination that sent his opponents staggering. Grant
took a desperate backhand swing with the light that Carter
intercepted with ease. He redirected the bigger man's momentum. The
window shattered, and Carter watched the spit polished shoes going
over the sill. A pair of panicked screams came from below.

(53:43):
Carter took a cautious peek outside. Grant's body, laid in
the middle of the newly erected tent with one of
its poles protruding from his neck. The occupants were struggling
to free themselves from the nylon entrapment. Guess it's a

(54:03):
threesome now. After dumping Grant out the window, Carter destroyed
the security tapes and returned to his room, expecting an
emergency head count that never happened. He used the time

(54:23):
to meditate on the facts. He knew who had taken
the pictures that night, but that left another problem. Big Jenny,
the guard had said Anne wasn't the type of girl
you go into a blizzard to have sex with. As
he paced the room waiting for the police to show up,

(54:44):
he'd realized that Grant had a point. Anne was scrawny,
barely in her twenties, and mousey. She was the exact
opposite of Jenny in every way. They wouldn't have attracted
this same lover, but they might have attracted the same killer.

(55:06):
The Senator's people had only looked at the last two
years for strange deaths and disappearances amongst the patients. Carter
wondered what they'd find if they looked back further. He
went to the window and checked his watch. Doctor Chambers
had shown up an hour after Carter killed Grant, but

(55:29):
there still weren't any police. Either they had the worst
response time in the country, or Grant had been disposed
of simply as the bloody tent. Carter didn't like that.
That meant Chambers had covered up at least two murders
to keep his own ass out of the slang. He

(55:51):
wondered how many employees had suddenly stopped coming to work
over the years, and felt his stomach tighten. It was
the same feeling he got right before an ambush. Someone
had turned the Metropolitan into a hunting ground. He lit

(56:11):
a cigarette and put his slippers on with a happy groan.
They really were comfortable. It had been almost five hours
and the doctor's car was still out front. He padded
out of his room and carefully navigated the halls of
the East Wing. If Johnny had escaped Shelley, he'd be

(56:35):
finishing up his five o'clock rounds before the morning nurses arrived.
Chamber's office was in the Central Annex, which meant Carter
would have to exit through the lobby to get back
to his room. He checked his watch and sputtered his
lips he was going to be cutting it close. He

(56:58):
detoured slightly to peek in at the security room. His
instincts were correct. Someone had tidied up, and the rest
of Anne's photos were spread out on the desk, illuminated
by the black and white monitors. A fresh page hung
from the typewriter, sitting next to a half bottle of

(57:19):
jim Beam. The paper flapped in the cold fall breeze
coming in through the broken window. Carter didn't need to
read it to know it was a suicide note. He
stepped into the room and took a swig from the
bottle before pouring it over the photos and striking his

(57:41):
lighter to them. He watched the scared, embarrassed face of
Anne disappear as one of the photos crinkled into a ball.
If it hadn't been for Chambers, Anne never would have
run off that night. She'd still be alive. Carter tried

(58:01):
to remember the last Thanksgiving he'd spent with his family.
His mom always got up before dawn. That could be
Anne waking up right about then to help her sister
get the turkey started. Instead of being nothing but a
dozen burning polaroids on a nuthouse desk, Carter watched the

(58:25):
flames consume the images until he was sure no one
could salvage them. It was enough that she'd been murdered.
No one needed to know she'd been humiliated first. Carter
would settle that account himself. He backtracked to the stairwell

(58:46):
and took the steps too at a time. The remaining
guards would be looking for an escaped patient. They'd assume
Chambers was safe if he stuck to the office, so
Carter felt comfortable making some noise to get there quicker.
He'd never been to the third floor, but he was

(59:06):
sure it wasn't supposed to look the way it did.
He froze on the final step and listened for a
full minute before advancing. A dark puddle of blood was
drying on the teak floor. There were handprints on the
wall where someone had braced themselves as they limped away.

(59:29):
It didn't look like they'd made it wherever they were going.
Carter paused next to a partially opened door and bumped
it open with his toe. One of the guards sat
cross legged in the floor with feathers from a duster
stapled to his balding head. Blood had been smeared on

(59:50):
his face like war paint, and his torso had been
hacked up. Two severed heads sat on the floor in
front of him, where paper pilgrim hats like Nurse Horn
had made with all the patients earlier in the week.
Carter thought they were the other nightguards, but he remembered

(01:00:11):
them being taller. Well, that's certainly festive, he whispered, before
continuing on. The doctor's door was wide open. Carter looked
around for a weapon. Aside from an antique desk and
a potted ficus, the hull was barren. He cursed silently

(01:00:36):
and stepped into the office. The sight left him sickened,
but also strangely impressed by the creativity. A rib cage
laid on one end of the desk with an arm
shoved through the neck. Organs, fingers, and fruit from the

(01:00:56):
cafeteria had been arranged carefully inside, while the intestines had
been delicately spread around like garnish framing the serving platter
that held Chamber's head. The psychiatrist was turned into a
macabre parody of the thanksgiving cornucopia. Carter scanned the room

(01:01:21):
for remaining body parts, but came up with nothing, saving
them to make a Nativity for Christmas, he said, as
he quickly rummaged through the drawers. He lifted a manila
envelope and held it close to the lamp. Carter flipped

(01:01:41):
through the dossier for someone named Marvin Waltz. He didn't
recognize the name, but there was a mugshot dated nineteen
fifty one. There was something familiar about the face. He
was only seventeen, with big eyes, high cheek bones, and

(01:02:03):
a narrow chin that made Carter think of wasps. His
dark hair was worn in a high, stylish pompadour. Carter
skimmed the pages for clues. Marvin had been arrested for
kidnapping two brothers, ages nine and eleven. He'd kept them

(01:02:24):
almost a week before bashing their heads in with a hammer.
One of them hadn't survived the ordeal, but the other
had been able to crawl for help. There was a
picture of the boys. The older one had a splash
of large freckles that covered most of his face and stringy,

(01:02:46):
long hair almost to his shoulders. With her slight build,
Anne Davis hadn't looked much different than the child. Carter
stared at the mugshot again. The man would be around
sixty now. But the eyes never really change, at least

(01:03:09):
not what's inside them. That's what Carter recognized. He'd definitely
seen the man before, but Marvin was incarcerated in a
federal sanatorium several counties away. He closed the file and
his eyes drifted over the handwritten name on the folder's tab.

(01:03:32):
He reached over Chambers, disembodied spleen to retrieve a fountain pen,
and proceeded to edit three of the letters, got you
now you bastard. Carter bolted from the office. He was
running out of time and he needed to make a
stop before confronting his quarry. The wreck room lights were

(01:04:00):
on by the time Carter arrived. He leaned on the
wall to catch his breath. The run down the stairs
and then all the way across the hospital had kicked
his ass. He decided quitting smoking was going to be
his New Year's resolution. He used the pit stop to
take in the room's holiday makeover. The patients that could

(01:04:23):
be trusted with scissors had been making construction paper turkeys
all week that were then carefully glued together to make
garland strands. Others had painted miniature pumpkins that now sat
festively on the tables. It had been Nurse Horn's idea
to keep everyone busy. She must have come in early

(01:04:47):
and put the decorations out. Carter didn't know if Johnny
and Shelley had helped or simply been caught fornicating in
the office, but all three of them to the plastic
chairs around the center most table with Melvin Watts and
a stacked Jenga tower. No one liked Melvin, and Carter

(01:05:12):
understood why. Aside from playing dirty Jenga, he looked like
someone put a two pey on a skeleton, and if
he ever blinked, then Carter hadn't seen it. That's why
the eyes were so familiar to him. Canned cranberry sauce
had been plopped out onto paper plates for the three

(01:05:35):
reluctant guests. Carter joined them at the table, keeping the
file folder in his lap as he sat down. Finals
aren't until this afternoon, he said, figured we'd skip the
epic showdown. Melvin told him, too bad, we don't have time.

(01:05:56):
Carter nodded to the wall clock. Someone had put a
paper pumpkin frame around staff. Shows up in twenty minutes.
I can beat you in ten. Melvin sat a bent
composition notebook on the table, Carter saw property of Anne
Davis scrawled on the front in pink ink. He'd been

(01:06:20):
given a similar one when he arrived. Chambers thought journaling
might help the patients gather their thoughts for sessions. It
wasn't enough that she'd been humiliated and murdered, but the
son of a bitch had gone so far as to
read her diary as well. Carter set the folder on

(01:06:41):
the table, overlapping Anne's journal with the edited name, where
the nurse could read it. I'll see your bet and raise, Marvin,
Carter said. The Metropolitan doesn't take violent criminals, especially not
child killers. Little pen pokes was all it took for

(01:07:02):
you to trade places with the real Melvin Watts. I
can't believe it took so long for someone to figure
it out, the killer said. I gave it a week
tops before they realized what happened. I actually planned on
it even But no one cares about the mentally ill
Melvin or Marvin. It doesn't matter, just another nut in

(01:07:24):
the same shell. So they all went about their days
thinking I was the half wit and not paying one
damn bit of attention to me. Then you saw Anne
Carter added, she looked like the boy that got away,
at least enough for a degenerate dickhead like you. We

(01:07:46):
should begin. Marvin picked an easy block and pulled it
from the tower, tapping on his hatchet for luck before
adding it to the top. By the way, playing for keepsies.
They sent you to stop me, and that's not something
one lets slide. Actually, they sent me for chambers. Carter

(01:08:11):
pulled a block with little thought to the move. Speaking
of which, the therapy obviously hasn't been working for you.
I have my own sort of therapy. Marvin danced his
fingers on the axe. I used to climb the wall
where the oak tree stretched over. I'd take this hatchet

(01:08:33):
with me. As far as alibis go, being committed to
an asylum is tighter than a duck's asshole. Didn't know
you were into veterinary proctology. Carter tapped a cigarette from
his pack. It's your turn. Marvin studied the stack carefully,

(01:08:54):
probing a precarious block. Carter made sure to direct the
smoke at him. Marvin coughed slightly and pushed the block through,
giving it a little twist to disrupt the adjacent pieces.
Carter snickered at the dirty move. They cut down the branches.

(01:09:16):
After Anne disappeared, he said, no more nights out for you, Marv. Ironically,
I was the one tasked with removal. He leaned over
and took a bite from Horn's plate of cranberry sauce,
slurping it loudly from the plastic spoon. The real Melvin

(01:09:38):
loved landscaping, so Chambers let me have the job here.
I took down those branches with Anne's blood still on
the blade. What did you do with her? Carter pulled
from the bottom of the stack, and the tower wobbled
from the fast jerk. He put it on top with

(01:09:59):
the same non s salance. I buried some. The ground
was frozen, and I got tired after three or four holes.
Marvin lifted a small jewelry box from the floor. Then
I remembered the incinerator and dumped the rest in it. Well,
most of the rest I raise. Carter tossed the rest

(01:10:23):
of the smokes onto the documents. I'm all in. Marvin
opened the jewelry box. The box was hers too, and
so were these. Marvin took a small satin pouch from
the box and turned it upside down. Seven teeth slid

(01:10:44):
down the Manila folder and on to the table, dried
blood stained the broken roots where they'd been smashed from
the young woman's mouth. Carter couldn't feel stress or fear,
but anger was something else. He turned to Johnny and Shelley,

(01:11:05):
then to Nurse Horn. You killed Jenny because you can't
get out anymore, he said. The pressure got to be
too much and you needed to let it off. But
that means Chambers didn't have time to uncover your real identity.
He already knew if only you put that much thought

(01:11:25):
into your moves, you might actually win a game. Marvin
took another piece from the tower. Chambers built the first
tent himself. He's been taking his little pictures for years.
He liked taking pictures. Sometimes he came with me when
I went out at night so he could take more.

(01:11:48):
And now you're cleaning house, Carter added, that's why these
three aren't dead. If they weren't here, i'd come over
the table and split your fucking wishbone. But you can
get to Johnny before I can get to you. You
need to kill me in self defense. Photos of your
victims will be found with Chambers belongings, and everyone will

(01:12:11):
think I took my job too far and killed everyone
else to cover it up. The Senator shuts this dump down,
and you moved to a new lax facility that you
can escape from easily. At least that's how I would
do it. Something along those lines. Marvin stirred the teeth

(01:12:32):
with the wooden game piece and tapped one closer to
Carter before placing it. The tower wobbled slightly. It's your move, now, yeah,
I suppose it is. Carter snuffed his cigarette in a

(01:12:55):
slice of cranberry and sputtered his lips. I always preferred scrabble.
My old man loved that game. The week before I
went to Nam. The first time we played, he died
before I got back, So maybe that's why I always
remember it. You're stalling, not at all. The story is

(01:13:20):
just apropose. Carter leaned back in his chair. The tile
bag was not being friendly to him. He kept getting
vowels and crappy letters like J and X. He was
desperately trying to put anything on the board. But I
was up more than forty points and had two tiles
left easy pickings. He had five tiles left, including that

(01:13:46):
goddamn X and then he plays right off. My last move,
uses every one of them and finishes on a triple
word score eighty one points. Just like that, the word
was asphyxia. The lampchord cinched into Marvin's flesh before he

(01:14:06):
could comprehend what was happening. Not only were the slippers
damn comfortable, but they were quiet too. Richie jerked hard,
flipping Marvin's chair over and dragged the man across the floor.
Carter calmly took a piece from the tower and stacked it. Hey, Marv,
it's your turn. He turned to the nurse. I guess

(01:14:30):
he's busy. Do you want to play for him? Nurse
horn mumble screamed through her gag. Marvin couldn't be sure,
but it sounded a lot like get me the fuck
out of here. Marvin's legs were flailing wildly while Richie
avenged Big Jenny. Aside from axe murdering his family that

(01:14:52):
one time, Richie wasn't a killer. His form was all wrong,
and he left himself too little slack in the improvised garrot.
It created more tension, but required a lot more energy
to keep it on. Carter saw what was coming. He
grabbed the hatchet and cut Johnny loose. Get them out

(01:15:15):
of here, he snapped, before charging at Marvin. It was
too late. Richie's arms were tiring and he was wheezing
with exertion. Marvin twisted around, kicking the compulsive masturbator's square
in his horn o plenty. He used the cord to
pull Richie into Carter's path sending all three of them

(01:15:37):
toppling to the floor. The hatchet spun across the linoleum.
Marvin went for it. Carter caught the cord still looped
around his throat, and pulled him back. Sorry to be
a pain in the neck, he said, trying to regain
his footing. But we're still playing here and it's my turn,

(01:16:01):
Marvin growled, launching himself from the floor. They crashed through
the table game pieces and tiny pumpkins scattered across the floor.
Marvin's fingers clawed at Carter's face, tearing trenches through the skin.
Carter took a wild swing that narrowly missed, and Marvin

(01:16:21):
returned fire with primal clubbing blows from both hands. Richie
grabbed the killer's shirt and tried to pull him off.
Marvin twisted and bit Richie's hand. Hey Gord Knight, asshole.
Carter swung one of the tiny pumpkins up, driving the

(01:16:41):
stem into Marvin's eye. The killer rolled away howling. Carter
didn't waste time. He clamored to his feet and kicked
Marvin in the ribs until he heard bones break, then
gave him two more for good measure. The others were
gathered around Ritchie. Carter went to the wrecked table and

(01:17:04):
collected Anne's teeth into the jewelry box and shook Cranberry
from her diary. He kicked blocks at Marvin. It really
was your turn, Marv, I win. He went to Horn
and handed her Anne's belongings. He started to speak when
he heard the killer snarling. Marvin had managed back to

(01:17:28):
his feet by the time Carter turned around. He ripped
the pumpkin free with a hot crimson spurt that turned
into a trickle down his sunken cheek. Marvin's fingers curled
into claws as he charged forward. Carter widened his stance
and twisted his toes into the floor. His hand drew

(01:17:49):
back to deliver a killing blow to the man's throat.
Marvin screamed, animalistically as he drew nearer. When his foot
slipped on one of the spilled plates, He crashed to
the floor and sat up with a shriek. The hatchet
came down, splitting his skull all the way to his nose.

(01:18:14):
The killer dropped back, pulling the weapon from Johnny's shaking hand.
Marvin's tongue twitched and danced beneath the blade, lapping up
his own dripping brain matter. Well, shit, Carter relaxed. I
didn't get to kill either of the bastards. I came
here for what now, Johnny asked. Now we call the police. Johnny,

(01:18:41):
that's what we do now, Horn shouted, before melting to
the floor. And while we wait, we can all say
what we're thankful for. Carter added, it is the day
for that, after all. I'm thankful for garden tools, Johnny said,
ripping the axe from Marvin's face. I'd be thankful for

(01:19:05):
an ice pack for my nuts. Richie whined, I got
something else you can put on them, Shelley said, with
a wink that lingered on a full blown nap well. Unfortunately,
the fuck tent was destroyed when I threw. When Grant
jumped to his death, Carter corrected himself and me, I'm

(01:19:29):
thankful the cranberry sauce was ruined. I hate that stuff.
What the fuck happened here? Ed screamed from the hallway.
With two dozen patients behind him. The survivor's all exchanged
glances before silently agreeing on who to saddle with the
responsibility of an explanation and turning their eyes to Carter.

(01:19:54):
He sighed and tossed his hands into the air. Happy thing,
Thanksgiving and that is our holiday helping for tonight. I
hope you have enough for leftovers now, my spookies, I

(01:20:15):
hope your turkey is tender, your pie is plentiful, and
your house free of mysterious footprints in the snow. And
if you're traveling, keep the radio low and the doors locked.
If you're hosting, maybe count the place settings twice, you know,
just in case. And now for dessert. This Black Friday,

(01:20:39):
on cutting deep into horror, we're carving into the Texas
Chainsaw Massacre from nineteen seventy four, the Quintessential Past, the
carving Knife cautionary tale. We'll talk the grit gristle and
why it's the perfect Thanksgiving time watch, especially after your
third plate of stuffing, because it's all about family and

(01:21:02):
food in Texas Chainsaw Massacre. That's this Friday, so make
sure you're subscribed. Saturday, we're releasing our first ten story
Christmas horror compilation for you to enjoy. And on Monday,
we head to the Victorian era to unveil some of
the most terrifying, deadly elements of a Victorian Christmas. And

(01:21:23):
I want to say a huge thank you to our
Patreon podcast boosters, folks who pay just a little bit
more to hear their names at the end of the show.
And they are Johnny Nicks, Kate and Lulu, Jessica Fuller,
Mike Aescuwey, Jenny Green, Amberhnsford, Karen we Met, Jack Kerr,
and Craig Cohen. If you want to hear your name
on the show, head Toweeklyspooky dot com slash join for

(01:21:43):
as little as one dollar a month, you get two
bonus shows every single month, five years of creepypasta readings
and audiobooks, and if you contribute fifteen dollars a month
or higher, you'll hear your name at the end of
the show, just like those folks. I read very quickly
because I've got so much to do before I put
the bird in the oven. So for myself, for my
executive producers Rob Fields and Babbletopia dot Com, my creepy

(01:22:06):
composer Ray Maddis, and of course my producer Dan Wilder.
I'll be talking at you well very soon after this
Turkey coma thank.

Speaker 2 (01:22:16):
You for listening. Make sure to find your way back
next week week. But for now you are safe, trust me,

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