This is exactly right. Hello and welcome to my favorite murder, it's the mini soad, it's the Minnesota, it's the Pan Demnig inside. No one's near each other yet.

We're still doing it many soad and somehow we have makeup on, which is well, because we're videoing it right now. Now, there's all kinds of things we have to do and meet requirements we have to meet.

What a bummer. You can actually see the video of last week's episode on our website at my favorite murder select moments. Not the entire thing. Absolutely. All right. Should we go? Do you want to go first? This we change it after. Yeah, let's do it.

This is called I'm Self Isolating in a murder house. Hey, PAOs, hope you're staying inside and healthy anyway. Let's get to it. So after spending nearly a decade living in the city of Philadelphia, I left to go to grad school and live on the beach in New Jersey. Aside from being in New Jersey, I thought I was living my best life. My two roommates and I live in a huge house a mile from the shore that the owners are renting for next to nothing because it's the off season.

One day, a few months back, I found out another reason they were renting the house so cheap. I was outside cleaning my car when the little old lady that lives two houses down saw me outside and ran over to me. She before saying anything else, she asked me the most in the most New Jersey accent you've ever heard. I'm surprised you girls decided to stay here for the winter. Do you know what happened? And you do know what happened in this house, right?

A woman murdered her ex-husband right here. Oh, shit. I obviously had not heard the story before and she did not skip a beat before telling me everything. In 2010, a woman named Kathleen Dorsett lived at my house with her one year old daughter and her parents lived across the street.

Dorsett was in a custody battle for her kid with her ex-husband, Stephen Moore, one day and then one day in August 2010, Moore came by to drop off their baby, and Kathleen asked him to go to the backyard and grab some tools he had left at the house when he had lived there. When he went out back, it turns out Kathleen's dad was waiting back there for him. Oh, whoa. Yeah. The father then beat Moore with a crowbar and strangled him to death with a rope.

Jesus, dad and daughter Dorsett then dragged Moore's body to his own car and put him in the trunk, drove it a town over and set it on fire. It didn't take long for the cops to figure out who had committed the murder. There was literal video footage of them throwing away evidence in a store's dumpster. They admitted to everything in court and the whole family was sentenced to prison for the crime with no chance of parole until they've served a minimum of 50 years.

The whole family, like they called the aunt and the grandma. And you know what? You're all trouble.

Your cousin Maureen is going down for this. When my neighbor finished telling me the story, she then took me by the arm and led me to my own backyard and pointed out where there used to be a bloodstain in the driveway. Oh, thanks for the nightmares, lady.

We get mail for Kathleen about once a week, even though it's been a decade since she lived there. I guess it's kind of hard to change your mailing address from prison. Well, that's it. I haven't noticed anything spooky in the house. But now that I'm quarantined inside my murder home, here's to hoping the ghost of poor Stephen Moore doesn't pick now to come haunted. Thanks for keeping me sane during this literal nightmare we are living in Lenzi.

I mean, great story, Lindsay. I feel like I've never heard of that in all the cases that we've told each other. I don't know if I've ever heard like a dad killing a husband for a daughter.

I mean, is it Casey Anthony now? She did all that, though.

They just lied for her, OK? That was her doing. And they didn't do it on purpose. Yeah, a dad doing that. That's true. Doing the actual killings.

Yeah. I don't know. I like. How does that conversation start with your dad.

I mean it starts like it starts like this.

You know what, you are right doesn't it. That was a mistake. Yeah. She is this horrifying. Yeah.

Wow. Then and then living there.

I tell you if an old lady is running toward you, hold your ground and find out what she wants. It's always good. It's always going to be good.

It's always going to be good.

Oh, I wouldn't give for an old lady to stay six feet away from me, but except for the old lady that came at me when I was walking my dog in my old neighborhood because I'd just thrown a bag of poop into a garbage can that was waiting on the street to be emptied on garbage day. That's I. And she came over shaking a finger and I was like, Lady, I'm about to light you on fire.

Garbage, it's garbage. And also she was talking to me like I was this interloper and she was living in, like, Bel Air.

And I was like, no, I live four houses down and, you know, so I have my own personal.

There's a caveat that I get to. To that rule I just made up as well. That's how it works. That's how we do it. OK, let's see. OK, so my first one, the subject line is code silver.

OK, hi. When I was in medical school in Buffalo, New York, I did my trauma surgery rotation in July at the county hospital. For those not in health care, county hospitals tend to be more rough around the edges, underfunded and treat many patients without insurance as opposed to private hospitals. I know that because that's where I went when I had my seizures. Oh yeah, seven.

And it was horrifying. There were six of us in one hospital room.

The crazy buffalo has its share of gunshots, gang violence. So it's a it was a pretty crazy month. I'll never forget the time they cracked a gunshot victims rib cage open in the emergency room with a tool similar to garden shears to try to access his heart directly and quickly.

But he didn't make it.

There was one trauma surgeon in particular who sparked respect, interest and intrigue.

We'll call him Dr. J. He had grown up in a rough neighborhood in Buffalo and had, quote, gotten out, gone into the army. Special Forces then came back to go to medical school and practiced trauma surgery. He was very tall and muscular, soft-spoken, always calm and kind, unlike some of the surgeons who wouldn't hesitate to let a trainee know how stupid they thought they were. He was also a very skilled surgeon and constantly had a gaggle of residents and students following him, trying to learn from him and soak up some of his awesomeness.

One day at the hospital, there was a code silver, which is the overhead code for an active shooter.

Everyone was instructed to seek refuge in locked rooms. One of the surgical residents ran into Dr. GAO and advised him to get into a room and hide. Dr. GAO thank the resident, but kept walking. Later that day, we found out that Dr. GAO was the active shooter.

Oh, my God.

Yeah, right. I thought maybe he was going to be like the hero who saved the day.

Same same way he had shot and killed a woman who worked in administration at the hospital with whom he had had a romantic relationship. He went on later that day to kill himself.

The story is tragic for all involved, but particularly so because in retrospect, Dr. J. Was clearly showing signs of mental illness leading up to this incident. He had recently lost a great deal of weight. He had been short tempered and had led his normally tidy house and yard go into disarray. He'd also been performing routine operations throughout the night. Think a gallbladder removal at two a.m. police.

Yeah, you'd think that would somebody would be like, yeah, you don't need to do that. You don't need to work all through the night.

So 9:00 a.m. is fine for this gallbladder surgery.

Yeah. Hey, surgeon, what happened to golfing? What why aren't you sleeping? Yeah, really.

Police later found food and supplies stored in the ceiling above his office. In the profession of medicine and surgery in particular, we are rewarded for being, quote, tough, not making a fuss and not being emotional. He continued to do his job well, despite these signs that something was wrong. So no one spoke up. I'm sure his colleagues regret this deeply. This story is a reminder to speak up, to be a busybody and to get into other people's business.

Yeah, but seriously, if you think something is up with a colleague or neighbor, just check in. Just say something. It's better to be annoying than to ignore your gut and regret it forever. Thanks for all that you do. I love listening to your podcast on the way to work as a little distraction from all the intensity of the world right now. Shout out to all the health care professionals, teachers, grocery store employee, sanitation workers and others keeping this crazy world running in a pandemic.

How you not signed, huh?

Amazing. Wow, what a banana story. I just think about the person who ran in to warn him. Yes.

And I when I was reading this, I did the exact same thing you did where I was like, Doctor J is going to go take care of business.

Some fascinating special forces way. Yeah. Yeah. And the fact that that person warned him and that he didn't do anything totally.

I mean, God. Just unnerving. Yes. So amazing. Yeah. Right. Yeah. OK, let me I'm not going write the title of this one. OK, all I'm going I'm going to skip the pleasantries though. I love you both and get straight to it. Thank you. Thank you. This story is about my Aunt Debbie who I credit with my maternal instincts. She showed me gory slasher movies when I was way too young. She would dress up as various serial killers during her annual Halloween parties, her favorite holiday.

And she told me scary stories almost every night when I lived with her as a young child. Basically, she's been a bad ass motorino from day one and she has many, many insane stories.

But I think this one is her best friend and lover or the best aunt who's sorry. Aunt Debbie A.. Debbie A.. Debbie. Yeah, this story takes place in nineteen. When Debbie was about 14 years old, she and her family were up at their parents cabin on Vancouver Island because this was 1980, she was allowed to roam freely around the small town all day long without checking in with anyone. Of course, my crazy aunt felt like rebelling, so she decided to steal a cigarette from her mom's purse and smoke it outside.

I love 14 year olds that are like, I need a cigarette. That was. Yeah, for real. It's like I better go smoke this. Benson and Hedges lights one hundred. The most unpleasant mom's cigarette.

You could possibly feel so gross. I love it. She then goes for a walk through the forest near her cabin in order to smoke without anyone noticing. Hmmm.

On this walk, Debbie realizes that she doesn't have a lighter just than a man in a large coat comes out of the forest and onto her path. No. Now, obviously, 14 year old Debby's Motorino instinct's hadn't kicked in yet because she isn't creeped out at all and she asks him if he has a lighter.

Hey, I'm 14. Have a lighter.

Oh, excuse me. I'm glad I ran into you. Are you a bear? No. OK, great. Then do you have a light mister with a coat on. Is there a bunch of tiny baby bears under that goat standing on each other's shoulders? No raincoat in the forest anyway.

Is there life in there? The man walks closer to her and says that he doesn't. He then asks if she is out in the forest alone. Luckily, these questions scared to be in July 30 saying My parents will be here any minute. I should probably go meet them now. The man just smiles and says they're not coming, are they? Then he then grabs her arm, takes off his coat and flashes her.

My aunt then screams, Oh, no one wants to see that jerks away, picks up some pebbles from the forest floor and starts chucking them at him. Yes, that's right. It's right now. I don't know if it was her loud screams or the pebbles pelting his scrotum, but he ran away now it being nineteen and all. After he leaves, Debbie walks home and nonchalantly jokes about being flashed with her family. No police report or psych eval involved.

No to summer of nineteen eighty one with Debbie watching the news at the end of August with her family. Suddenly the man's photo comes up on the screen. On the screen. That's him, she says. That's the guy who flashed me. It turns out she had asked Clifford Olson, the beast of British Columbia, for a lighter. She had thrown pebbles at Cliff Clifford Olsen's dick. If you don't know Clifford Olson, he raped and killed 11 children and teens from 1980 to nineteen eighty one.

Oh, right. When she ran into him. Oh my God. He was an absolute ass hat in prison, using his rights to file a tons of bizarre legal claims example, claiming that being denied a solid pleasure lifesize revolutionary sex doll was cruel and unusual punishment. On a positive note, his case resulted in the rise of the victims of violence movement and a lot of amendments to our criminal justice system. Thank you for all you do, especially right now when the world feels like a dumpster fire.

Stay sexy and don't steal your mother's cigarettes without her lighter. Sarah from Victoria, British Columbia.

Oh, Sarah, that was that was, as Miley Cyrus would say, a banger that was everything because it was running into a creep in the forest of flash fear and danger.

And then the payoff of, you know, is it was a child killer and getting away from him anyway she could and then it turning out that like her life was totally in danger at that moment. I mean, obviously.

But like, yeah, it's crazy and throwing rocks at him. I bet that felt good.

I had you get away. You know, no one wants to see that.

Oh, my God.

It was a different time. It was it was the kind of thing where. Yeah. In the eighties like I was ten in nineteen eighty. If you were walking around by yourself you kind of knew to keep a like more than arm's length distance from people because it was a possibility.

Yeah. Oh yeah. Oh man. All right. Swiss the Swiss cheese pervert doesn't live on an island, you know.

No, I learned that that was not a one off.

So this subject line of this one is my great, great aunt and the missing suitcase of money. Hello.

I've been debating sending the story for a while, but since we're all bound to home, I thought you might enjoy this family fairy tale.

OK, this is a story about my great, great aunt.

She was a beautiful, tall, blue eyed, black haired, bad bitch and is the reason I tighten up when anyone mentions nature versus nurture. She grew up poor on a ranch in the West and at the time it doesn't get much tougher than that. I picture her coolly, leaned back in a saddle, moving through the untouched landscape or bellied up to a bar, laughing with whiskey dripping down her chin. Hold on. Is this my life story?

I know blue eyes and black hair. Yeah, it's you.

I'm not that tall. OK, it is rumored anyone who came in contact with her fell in love with her. It's you. It sounds right. When she was a teenager, she met with a wealthy man, she met a wealthy man who owned a ranch nearby, and they were married a few weeks later.

Yeah, right. And she's a teenager. Oh, but it sounds like it was a long time ago.

Family law tells it went well for a year or two. But the way my grandma puts it, quote, she wasn't one to be tamed and it didn't take long for her to begin showing up to the family home with bruises one week and a busted lip the next. It is easy to get hurt on a ranch. So at first they believed her stories of different accidents. One night, her horse showed up on the ranch, but she wasn't with it.

The family scoured the property and after two days they found her completely beaten, nearly dead, only a mile from the family home. She had tried to ride there, but after a while it seemed she had passed out from the pain and had fallen off her horse.

She was healing from her, quote, riding accident when she began spending more and more time writing out with the ranch hands to gather cattle and fix the fences. She spent a lot of time with one man in particular. It seems the two of them fell in love and once in love, they hatched a plan to kill her husband and steal his money. And that's just what they did.

Her husband's body was discovered a few days later. He had been stabbed to death in a safe and his safe had been emptied. The two of them were seen riding out of town on horseback with a suitcase and nothing else. We can only guess it was full of the money that had been in the safe. They went on the run for a while, and then my family heard that the ranch hands body was found. He had been stabbed to death and his safe had been empty.

No, she was never heard from again.

Bonus ADIC content. A few years ago we were cleaning out the family barn and came across an old suitcase in the attic. My sister and I freaked out thinking we had found her suitcase full of millions, but we're disappointed to find it was actually our grandma's spoon collection.

Oh well, here, treasure DGM. See some letters.

It was just grandma's phone collection or anything more like sweetheart than a spoon collection.

Oh, one of them is from Bamp. Yeah, one of them's from Disneyland.

The one time they went to London, maybe maybe for someone they know went to London to write back because they're like, oh, she loves spoons, bring a spoon. She said, Cathy spoon. She will love it. Oh she'll love she loves spoon.

Meanwhile, Cathy is like I never I never wanted to spoon. I got one spoon and they think I like spoons and now it's an avalanche of spoons is not an amazing story. I wonder what happened to her. I wonder what else she did became your mother.

I think that's when my mom stopped killing because when she met my dad, she was.

It was just. Or she.

Or did she. Bonanos, an innocent man, gets hit by a flying pickle bananas. A Texas woman wakes up with a British accent, Bonanos a duck, enters a pub, drinks a beer and fights a dog.

I'm Kurt Braunohler and I am Bananas. I'm Scotty Landis and I am bananas.

On each episode of the world famous Bananas podcast, Scotty and I serve you a steaming hot pile of the silliest news stories from around the world.

It's a lighthearted look at our big stupid planet, and we invite you to laugh with us and add us as we try to make sense of it all. But wait, there's more.

We have guests, glorious, talented, hilarious guests who give bananas its pizzazz.

I might get sued from here to kingdom come for saying this, but the Bananas podcast has more pizzazz than any other podcast since 1992 and I don't care who knows it.

So whether you're bored at work or in your car, bored at home or buying boards at a lumber yard, it's time to stuff your ears with bananas. New episodes of Banana Slip on to Apple Stitcher, Spotify, or wherever you listen every Tuesday to put down your tacos and pick up our bananas.

Now with more pizzazz, bananas. Hey, all, we are Wendy and Beth, she's Wendy and I'm Beth, and we want to tell you about a podcast that we host called Froot Loops Serial Killers of Color, Froot Loops as a podcast about true crimes committed by people of color and the victims that we don't hear or know much about. Contrary to popular belief, not all serial killers are straight cis gender white dudes. No, ma'am.

Join us at Froot Loops as we tell fascinating stories of true crimes committed by people of color and their victims that often go untold by the mainstream media. As we dive into these cases, we get into the historical and cultural context of the crimes and the criminals in order to get a sense of what might have influenced the perpetrators and led to the crimes. Well, that's right. New episodes drop every Thursday on Apple podcast, Spotify, Stitcher or wherever you get your podcast from.

So until then, look alive, y'all. It's crazy out there.

OK, this one I got, I found some I wasn't sent to me, I just found it and feel like I had made me laugh so hard and I'm going to read it as I feel like it's supposed to be read and you'll get it. This is called small town shooting thingy. Hmm. And just start. So a couple of months ago to a year, there was a couple gunshots shot off. I was just chilling in bed listening to your podcast.

It was about 11:00 PM, I believe. I'm not sure I lose track of time at night. And I heard some gunshots go off. There was one period and that entire first part. However, I did not suspect it was a gunshot because I live in a small town called Colonial Beach and it was really loud. So I figured it was close. I would later figure out it was two houses down. Also, I'm just 13 year old girl and I had never heard gunshots before, so I didn't know what it was, but I suspected it was gunshots, you know.

Yeah. Since I was not confident it was gunshots, I was not unsettled with it and kept listening to your podcast. Chilling. I mean, imagine a 13 year old girl listening to our podcast.

Hey, hey, hey. Later, my mom asked me a question. The question she asked me was if I heard anything on that night, which I was. So I was scared. So I lied and said no, but I lied because I didn't know if she was trying to to be sly and see if I was awake because she had done that in the past. OK, back to the story. Not with my life. But she said that there was a shooting at the house and there was a car with bullet holes in it.

And no, it is not rust that looks like bullet holes. Also, there was a bullet hole in the wall, which is still there to this day. But now there is a different homeowner and I never saw it go up for sale.

A little fishy, I think, but me and my friend, mainly me, wanted to see who the new homeowners were. So we went there, went to their house when they when we were trick or treating this past year, and they seemed a little weird and a little too nice, but that could be me with my martyring instincts. That's right. And you're thirteen. Oh, and a couple of years passed. We thought that the house behind our house was a drug house and I know of other drug houses and the elementary school burned down four or five years ago and still no one knows why.

Sincerely, Quinn.

Sorry for everyone. There are four period. I love you, Quinn. Quinn, great job.

Very entertaining email. Very well put together. She's a sleuth.

It had it all. You got your eye out. We love it. Yes. Keep your eye out. Try to find out why that house burned down. Why not walk around with a little notepad and elementary school that burned down? Oh, sorry.

I thought it was a house. Well, then now we know.

Hey, Quinn, we're going to need monthly updates about your town and who's doing what and what's going on, please.

Thirteen year olds, we don't know the thirteen year old update. Also, if you're another different thirteen year old that's listening. Sorry, but also we want to hear from you, too. Don't think that we don't want to hear from you just because you're in junior high.

I mean, God, that's when we're like we're not addressed. We're not like total jerks.

OK, that's why I'm glad you're going last because I didn't want that when this starts hile let's get to it. When I was a teenager, I worked at Blockbuster in Houston, Texas. I was the token girl. There were usually only one per shift. And then they used the emoji that you use in email that end up looking like gumdrops. You know, they're not a full circle. They're like flat on the bottom. Yeah. So it looks like a gumdrop with a face and this one's rolling its eyes.

So it's like a really irritated gumdrop in the middle of the email, which I thought it sexism. Oh God.

Anyhow, we had a ton of regular customers who had come several times a week, some even daily, to trade out their movie rentals. One particular I mean, God, how long ago does that seem where you had to go to the video store and pick like three movies?

Thirteen year olds don't know what we're talking about when you don't even understand what renting a movie means. Yeah, what a pain in the ass.

It was a car, a blockbuster card, which I think my dad still has in his wallet. Yep. And many do. And if you didn't have it like they wouldn't let you rent a movie. Yeah, you can. If you didn't have it, that was going to be the worst weekend ever. You were you were just relegated to whatever was on TV Quynh back then. There were like four channels. Right. There was no cable or at least where I lived.

Cable is just starting. Yeah.

I mean, when you don't get it, when Quinn just you're living in this world of streaming and immediacy. You're welcome.

We love you. OK, one particular customer, though, who is the manager of the neighborhood, McDonald's would come in multiple times a day. He would spend what seemed like forever, all caps, browsing the shelves and checking out movie titles. Sometimes I would catch him staring at me over the shelves and I wondered if he was shoplifting.

Oh, well, at Blockbuster. That's right. And spending an hour hours at Blockbuster is impossible because there's like maybe a hundred movies. It's not like a cool old school video store where they have just like thousands of weird titles. No, not at all. They would have it would be like there would be 10 copies of Groundhog's Day on the shelf of like, look, you can read Groundhog's Day and you never take that.

Yeah, there wouldn't be that many copies. Right. We're both doing and we are doing this taking it off official. This is what taking something off the shelf looks like, OK?

One day I was working at the register when a woman came up and quietly said, Miss, I don't want to scare you, but there's a man masturbating in the drama section.

Quinn turned muted this this Quinn Quinn. So and then it's just a line break. And then the line all by itself, it said dude had been masturbating the whole time.

Oh, God. The most fucked up part is that my store manager refused to ban him from the store because he was, quote, a paying customer, masturbating, paying customers.

So so now we circle back and start to analyze who this store manager is and where he masturbates publicly because clearly.

Right. That's the thing that you don't think is that big of a deal. Right. When actually it's this huge sign. Gumdrop, gumdrop, gumdrop, eye roll gumdrop, ibold gumdrop.

So this was the guy's solution. He would just follow him around every time he came in the store and use proximity to discourage him from jacking up great blockbuster.

I hope you don't wonder why you don't exist anymore.

Anyway, thank you for keeping me company on my commute to my dream job. My friend Jonathan is a fan and I became addicted to MFM when my car stereo temporarily broke a couple of years ago. And yours was the only podcast that would get loud enough on my phone to cover the road noise in my hybrid honor.

We're honored. Thank you. The shrill of vocal from bursting through passed all the others.

That's right. Sorry, Marc Maron. You need a you need a vocal fry. How about you get that register up a little higher? Thank God. Because you guys have helped me so many times. Stay sexy and just get Netflix.

Hayle Oh, unbelievable. Public masturbators, public masturbators that people aren't going to take any steps to get rid of or solve public public a masturbator. Apologizers what? That's even worse. That's hopefully an era now that the nineties are over. I feel like maybe that time is gone. You got hope. One would hope and dream. Great job, everyone. Quiana those were great. MBP Quinn, you tell your friends you won because you did. That's right.

Mainly you you want one. You won this time. Send us your stories at my favorite at Gmail. Any kind of story.

Obviously we love and stay sexy and don't get murdered by Elvis.

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