This is exactly right. Welcome to the mini soad of my favorite murder. That's right, we did it backwards. Yeah, it's true today.

There's a very good chance I've forgotten how to do many sovs. Very good job.

It's like a week and a half, two weeks.

So it just slipped your mind these things that if you don't really keep up and really practice on The Daily Show, you can lose it all. That's right.

Speaking of birthdays, when this comes out, it's going to be a birthday today. One day. That's right. May 11th. Happy birthday. Thank you.

Wishing you a good year. And health, wealth and happiness. Thank you so much.

I'm going to go first because it's a birthday. Yes, that's my big present. Perfect. Is that what you got me? I actually did get you something, but you're going to get it later.

I'm going to get it in twenty twenty two. Summer of twenty. Twenty two. Yeah. I think I'm going off the mixtape. Do it. I can't.

It's trying to figure out how to make this more freestyle that then you can do it. It's your birthday. You can do anything you want. I'm not going to change the subject line. Hi Karen, Georgia. Steven and a potpourri of animals. When my older sister was about 10, she came down the stairs in the middle of the night to my mom's room, crying that she saw a strange man at the foot of her bed.

She describes him as a tall, dark haired man with a handlebar mustache, whispering beans in a deep, soft whispering beans, the word beans, the word beans like fried rice.

It's you.

You can imagine when I started reading this email, it was like, well, here's here's my favorite one of all. My mom brushed it off as a nightmare and sent her back to bed. The next night, she came down around the same time saying the man had come back. This happened over and over for about two weeks until finally the visit stopped. About a year or so later, my mom got a big box of old family photos from her great aunt that had recently passed away.

She had to hang them up chronologically one by one down the main staircase in our FOIR. My sister came to see her progress when she gasped at the sight of one of the photos.

This has been my mom. My mom and I examined the photo and the man was exactly as my sister described, tall, slim, dark haired, and with that iconic handlebar mustache, my mom got the strangest look on her face and began to tell us the story of how this was the only member of our family ever to be murdered. He was a pharmacist in a small town in Ohio, a few towns over from us. Back in the eighteen hundreds, there was a feud happening between two families in the town and supposedly one side broke into the pharmacy and switched around a few of the medicines to try to mess with the other side.

My great, great, great, truly not going to keep going because this is already unsolved.

So what he thought was his medication and wound up being poisoned and killed, holy shit. We ended up finding the dust jacket on ancestry.com and everything. There was no way my sister could have seen that picture before. But also she was ten and known to, as my dad says, storyteller. So who's to say anyways, love y'all, peace, love beans.

And oh man, I was really hoping like he was a bean farmer or there was going to be some connection to beans. But that's OK. It's still good.

I mean, I think maybe that was the thing he was craving. Like that's what he was supposed to have for dinner right before he took his medicine. And then he's like, he's left in eternal whatever.

Maybe the guy who killed him was his nickname was Beans. Yes. That's got to be. Let's think of four more variables that could be happening in the short. Perfect. OK, good one.

What if you thought the little girl's name was Beans because she looked like a bee.

She was named Beans and he's mad that the dog didn't protect him. What if he's a vegan?

OK, hey, Karen and Georgia. Love you. Love what you do. Love mental health facility. All right, enough with the flattery. Let's get to it.

I'm currently shall rush through the flattery all the time. They rush and rush like and don't like it.

Yeah, I'm currently sheltering in place with my aunt and uncle in Aurora, Oregon. I had to get out of my five hundred square foot apartment all by myself in Seattle where things are pretty rough. I've tried for years to get family members to talk to me about murder, but they all look at me cross-eyed and tell me I should get into something a little less heavy, like gardening. Anyway, I was going for a walk with my Aunt Lynne through the beautiful Oregon countryside next to the river, and we walk by a house and my aunt says to me, you know, a man who used to live here was recently found dead in his home and he'd been dead for eighteen months before anyone found him.

And then all caps.

I'm sorry, what I said say more right now. Apparently, she's been holding out on me for over two decades. One of the original members of the Mickey Mouse Club, Dennis Dey, used to live down the street from my family and he moved to Phoenix with his long term partner, Henry Casswell Dennis. During the original first episodes of The Mickey Mouse Club in the 1950s, I looked up some videos and he was a damn cute tap dancer. Dennis and Henry moved to Phoenix and in their old age hired some do to stay in the house with them and help with chores, cooking all that jazz the do.

They hired Daniel. Berta is a dick. He was knocked down with the chores and slacked off constantly. So obviously Dennis and Henry wanted him to get the fuck out. But guess what? Daniel wouldn't leave. Eventually, Henry had to be admitted to an assisted living facility because of dementia. So when he told caretakers that he thinks his husband is missing, he was dismissed. They didn't believe him. That bastard Daniel Burdette, murdered. Dennis, shoved him under a giant heap of clothes and left him there for 18 months.

Berta continued to live in the house with the dead body for months, and he used cleaning supplies to cover up the leaking fluids because, quote, it smelled like death and then says, what a dick they caught the fucker. He's been arrested on charges of second degree manslaughter, criminally negligent homicide, criminal mistreatment and abuse of a corpse. And he confessed, thankfully. Anyway, I hope the story rocks your world at least a little bit because my job was on the floor for days.

Thank you for everything y'all do to normalize the love of the McJob and normalize mental health conversations. Stay sexy and please check in on your neighbors.

CAITLYN Oh, I remember reading that story, too, because, well, we used to watch the Mickey Mouse Club every day after school because it was in reruns. And so it's kind of stuck out to me. But also, I don't understand those people. I mean, obviously, there's a lot of issues going on how you could live in the house with a person that you killed. It's just such a sign of how cut off you are. Definitely.

It's hideous. Yeah. And then to complain that it smelled like dead bodies because you tried to cover it up to fucking complain about anything.

Shut up. Yeah. Just shut up and go to jail. Yeah. OK, the subject line of this one is my mom tried her hand at vigilantism, light hearted. Hello.

To lighten up these quarantine times. I've got a story for you that's got all your favorite things. Eighties Mom's hot robbers and people staying sexy and not getting murdered. Back in the eighties, my mom was twenty or twenty while working in a bank as a bank teller for a summer job. She'd only been working at the bank for a few months. That had already been robbed three times since.

The bank wanted to keep everyone safe during the robbery. Protocol was to just sit quietly and give the robbers what they wanted and not to alert anyone of the robbery until the robbers had left. This meant that three times a man had just walked up to my mom, slid a note that said something along the lines of This is a robbery, give me all your cash, and then casually walked out with the money. This didn't sit well with my mom.

It has a strong sense of right and wrong and doesn't like seeing people get away with bullshit. One day is my mom was at the teller desk. A very handsome man walked into the bank. My mom was hoping he'd stop at her desk and she was elated when he did. She was over the moon when he slid his phone number to her across the desk. Imagine her dismay when she pulled the paper to see that it wasn't his phone number, but another.

This is a robbery note. My mom gave him the cash and watched him walk out of the bank. But for whatever reason, she decided she wasn't going to let this robber get away with it. She ran out the door screaming.

So the police, this man just robbed it.

They know she followed him for a few blocks screaming behind him until he turned around waving a gun at her and said, Lady, you've got to stop her.

I have to shoot you. Needless to say, she headed back to the bank and shortly thereafter the police arrived. She gave them a statement and description of the man. And while they laughed at her brazenness, they told her under no uncertain circumstances that it was very dumb and she should never chase a bank robber again. Anyways, I think she quit the job shortly after, but I'd like to think that word got out about the crazy screaming bank teller and that robberies dropped significantly at that branch after the incident.

Stay sexy and don't risk your life for a minimum wage page. Shout out to my friend Carina. We work together, but I haven't seen her since locked down and I miss her terribly. Well, that's a shout out at the end.

You did the work. You get the shout out.

That's right. OK, this one's got a message and a motherfucking bottle. Sweet salutations and well wishes. Let's jump right in, shall we? Recently, while talking with my dad Bob such a dad name about interesting things we found on our local beaches, he reminded me of this gem while out metal detecting. One day my dad came across a small white pill bottle sticking out from the sand. He's always been against picking up strange pieces of garbage in public places.

It's rule, yeah, for some odd reason. Scooped this baby up since the cap was still on. He shook it to see if anything was inside. He heard what he said sounded like rice rattling and decided to open. It not only was the rice in there along with some green herbs, but there was also a piece of paper with a handwritten message. That's right, y'all a motherfucking message in a bottle. After freaking out about it with my step mom, he took the message to work the next day to see if anyone could decipher it.

You see, the message was written in Spanish, and my dad is a middle aged white man who doesn't know a lick of Spanish. Outside of you are a shithead and other meaningless phrases he learned back in high school. One co-worker tried to read it but couldn't understand the specific dialect that it was written in. That's when his co-worker George tried to take a stab at it while reading it. George started crying. He looked up at my dad and said, the man who wrote This is from my hometown in Cuba.

No. So not only did my dad find a fucking message in a bottle, but the man reading it to my dad is from the same town as its origins. In today's odds, I would say that's one in a million. The message was written by a man who had been diagnosed with cancer. He was wishing for good health and prosperity for his family, especially his wife and children, after he could no longer be with them. Unfortunately, that's all we know of him.

There's no way for us to be able to reach out and find any more information. We're not sure if this man is alive or what happened to him, but I hope he is at peace wherever he is and that his family is faring well in times like these. It struck a chord with my heart. So much shit is happening and affecting so many people all around the world. I want to do exactly what this guy did and send out wishes for good health and prosperity to anyone who may need it and physically help those around me when I can look out for your neighbors and do what you got to do so we can all get through this safely.

Sorry this email was so long, but I just had to share it. Thank you for continuing this podcast and bringing light and laughter during this crisis. Stay sexy and always pick up the garbage on the beach. You never know what you might find. Emily in Florida. Oh, so good.

No.

Well, I love the whore Hazel touched and I like that. How what is what are the odds of that coincidence? That's crazy. I mean, that's unbelievable. Totally full of it.

In 2012, a 72 year old man named Samuel Little was charged with three Los Angeles murders dating back to the 1980s.

So we finally got to where we were going. The crowd at Liverpool roar after only one appeal.

But since then, it's become clear he is the most prolific serial killer in the United States has ever seen, 93 victims, 19 states. Samuel Little has become infamous, but his victims, some of whom remain unidentified, are stuck in the shadows. It's time for that to change.

My experience in working with some of the victims families is that he was dead wrong. They were missing. They were very loved and their families were hurting.

The Fall Line presents a special limited series. The victims of Samuel Little will cover both solved and unsolved Southeastern cases and tell you how you can help the victims. Still waiting for justice, featuring rare interrogation tape, FBI interviews and in depth detail. This is a series you won't want to miss. Episodes begin on September 16th from Exactly Right Network. Find us on Stitcher Apple podcast or wherever you listen. OK, this last one is like an update once you remember when we talked about the light bulb burglar that was going up to people and that was in Sacramento going into people's porches and stealing their light bulbs.

Yes. So we got an update. Hello, ladies. I was doing the dishes and listening to the latest. Many said when you read the story of the light bulb burglar in Sacramento. I grew up in Sacramento and most of my family still lives there. When I heard the email about the light bulb burglar, I had to sit down and write immediately. My cousin is one of those very smart, very clueless people who can make two plus two equals five and smash it, but doesn't have the common sense to not open the door to a stranger at 12 30 at night.

My cousin lives in South Sacramento in a house with two other single women in their 20s and two giant chocolate labs. Thank God. One night last year she heard some rustling on the front porch and the dogs began the low growl the big dogs make. So my sweet, clueless cousin goes to the door and looks out the people to see a mid 20s man unscrewing her porch like this is where a normal person would call the cops, but not her.

What does she do? She opens the door.

No, no, no, no. Yeah, yeah.

Luckily, Miss Green is still shut, locked with the two dogs growling behind her. She asked him what he was doing. He froze and then stammered that he was out of bullets. So my genius cousin told him she she needed that one on her Fourche, but she had more. She went and got him one. So open the screen door and gave him a light bulb. He said thank you and left. It wasn't until he had gone that she realized how badly things could have gone.

The rest of the family is just glad that she has those big, scary sounding dogs. Michelle, I was born in Sacramento in the late eighties and my parents grew up here in the sixties and seventies. It wasn't until I began listening to your podcast that I truly began to understand the paranoias and quirks that my parents have regarding deadbolts and sticks in windows. It turns out that they have they must have some very justified PTSD from growing up in the heyday of Sacramento serial killers.

Yeah, so that light bulb thing I was going to say to a bunch of people commented and said that that's actually some people who are burglars. Will had a couple of days ahead of time, take the light bulb out, then come back in the dark and burglarize the place. So that's another way they do it.

Burglars or people that like to slit your throat. I mean, there's all kinds of reasons to get rid of the light. I you what you watch she gave him light bulbs.

Hold on one second. You're stealing from me. Let me help you steal. Do you like this, Dwight, or do you like a brighter look?

I've got 60 70 watt but we can go down a beautiful twenty. What is it for outdoors.

Because is it for the bedroom. Is it for your murder room.

OK, this one's called Spooky Halloween in May. Hey there. A few months ago my grandpa passed away and while thinking about him, I remembered this ghost story that he told us about a few years ago and I thought I would share. My grandpa was a ninety nine year old World War Two veteran who survived to see an entire century nineteen twenty to twenty twenty. He could make friends with anyone and was also the most flirtatious man I've ever met. A few years before he died, my parents and I took an excursion to his hometown so he could show us the house he grew up in, where he went to school and visit his parents gravestones.

A few nights before we left on this trip, he had a strange dream. Apparently, when he was in high school, a girl at a school was killed in a car accident. He knew her the way everyone knows everyone in a small town high school. This girl appeared to him in his dream and asked him to visit her gravesite. Her parents were long gone, and she told him that no one had visited her grave in years and that she was lonely.

The next morning, he told my mom that this girl had what this girl had said and asked if he could go see her grave when he visited the cemetery. My mom agreed and proceeded to contact the cemetery to see if they had a map of sorts with the plot names. My grandpa told her that it wasn't necessary because he knew where she was buried. My mom asked him to clarify since he said he barely knew her and he told her that the girl in the dream had given instructions to her burial site.

She had described her headstone and given him landmarks in the cemetery to be able to find her. Long story short, after we arrived at the cemetery and went to his parent's headstone, my grandpa proceeded to walk almost directly over to where this girl's headstone was located. He stood there for a minute and said a prayer for her. And then we left do to think that poor girl contacted my grandpa to ask him to visit her because there wasn't really anyone else alive who could think who could remember her wild.

Before I close this out, I want to give a special shout out to all morgue and funeral home employees. Their essential employees were being directly exposed to covid-19 every single day. When covid patients die, they're sent to morgues or directly to funeral homes. And those employees have to either cremate or embolden the deceased while potentially being exposed. They also have to figure out how to arrange funeral services with the family members to let them properly grieve their loved ones without endangering themselves or anyone attending.

Many funeral homes are refusing covid cases because of the risks, so small family funeral homes like the one my mom has worked at for almost 15 years, are being overwhelmed. My mom is a super badass and is being so cautious to protect herself and others while doing her absolute best to make sure that families are being able to say proper goodbyes to their loved ones. She's truly the best and makes me so proud to be her daughter. Happy Mother's Day.

Thanks for all you guys do SDM, Claire.

I love that. That's awesome. That's the kind of job that people aren't talking about. That's just as definitely essential. Yeah, but again, it's death, so no one wants to talk about it. People act like there's the stigma. But yeah, thank you to all funeral home workers people. And that what an overwhelming situation, a position to be in.

That must be so scary. You have to be so brave even if you're you don't want to be. Yeah, I can't imagine.

I just found out my cousin Annie Galindo is that she intimidates people for a living. She's an anesthesiologist. She also lost in intubation.

So she is completely, completely on the front lines. And she's always been about you used to be just amazing. I love my cousin Annie. So shout out to her to incredible. Everyone is doing everything and fighting out there for us now.

We're so great. Thanks, you guys. Send us your stories, whatever they may be, to my favorite murder at Gmail or on our website or wherever. Yeah. And happy birthday, Karen. Thanks, Joe.

It's going to be another great fifty. I can't believe I'm fucking fifty right now. The big guys big party this summer.

It's going to be what we should do is go to the island where they tried to have the fire fest. And we're going to make it like what they tried to make it.

Yes. Ham sandwiches, Cheetos, of course, Instagram models of all various sorts. We'll get all those Four Loko.

They sponsor it. Oh, my God. Yeah, everybody, let's do it. We're all invited.

But it's going to be we're going to have to put a pin in sending the invitation until, you know, until people can stop going out and not wearing masks and pretending that that's their choice.

It's crazy. It's so crazy. Someone tweeted today that they saw they reopened the trails and the hiking things around Los Angeles because you can socially distant and there was two joggers not wearing masks. And there was a like a forestry ranger standing there going, hey, you need to.

And they both flip off as the clouds buy back. Those guys, both those guys.

And that's the kind of people who aren't wearing masks is the people who will flip off a fucking park ranger.

Well, because they believe that they don't like if they feel like they're fine and they don't have to, which isn't the point, you guys.

The point is not to spread it in case you have it to other people and you don't know asymptomatic carrier.

It's very like, can I just have this one thing?

Do it for Karen, even freaking out. Steven's freaking out because we keep talking over each other. Oh, really?

He's like this. No, no, I'm I'm I was I went to Target today and it's just like lines around the block, like today. Right now is the worst time to go anywhere.

If you can stay home right now because people who now think things are open and normal again are wearing not wearing masks and just acting like it's not walking a target or walking to a place and then just pull their mask off.

It's all of a sudden it's. Yeah, yeah. We keep the parking lot safe. Thank you. Feel free inside the store. Well, you know what it is, though. This is like such high level denial because there are some people that are so scared of this that what they're saying is it's not really happening and they need they need to go out and scream at people and use their anger to defend when actually they're just they're just going, I'm so scared.

I don't know what to do with my. So that's a good point. Yeah. So it definitely speak for your birthday.

My birthday. Oh my God. What it's like I start the purge. The purge against non masked people.

Oh no, it's not your choice. That's my only point. Don't hurt anybody. Don't even say anything to them because that's what they want. A lot of those people that do that, it's like they go out and say something to me and it's like, oh, you know, you're saying it to yourself.

You're saying that without saying a word, you're lonely. And scared is the one thing I would say. But don't even say that now, right. Anyway, yeah, it's a great process this time.

And he said, but thank you for all your stories and support systems and we love you.

Stay strong and stay sexy and don't get murdered.

Good bye, Elvis. You want to cook?