This is exactly right. Hello and welcome to my favorite murder, the Minnesota. That's right, that's Karen Kilgariff, that Georgia Starky.

What's up?

How are you doing? Are you hanging in there?

Good. You better be because you have no choice.

That's really all you've got on the phone with my dad. Swango, does that sound like it's getting better? Better to me? He was like, what? What are you talking about? My dad. And he he won't even pretend. He won't even acknowledge. It was like I think I read like three articles that were like, these lawyers are this mad and these judges aren't going for it. And these whatever it was like, yes, yes.

Logic is coming back to her. And then, God, I tried to get the confirmation from home, Jim, and he wouldn't give it to me.

You can get it anywhere else except your own father. He's the only one I want her from and is the only one who won't give it to me.

Called Withholding Try. It's called the Juliana Hatfield song. Everybody Loves Me. But you know why, Dad? Why. But, hey, this isn't about us. This is about you. I didn't mean to start of them. We're just trying to do a true crime right in show.

Yeah. You right in your stuff. We read it to you. Do you want to go first?

Sure. You know, I love I love going first.

That's great. Because I love going last. It's my passion. This just as subject line headline hometown story and the greeting is my loves. Oh here. Let me let me give less vocal fry accidentally. My loves. Oh they're cool. I come bearing a gruesome and very recent story from my hometown of Patchogue on Long Island, Patchogue, New York, on Long Island. And in parentheses it does say pronounced Patchogue. This past Tuesday, October 6th, my sister and I left the house at about 11:00 a.m. to grab some coffee.

As we were driving, we noticed that a block away from our house, police had the entire street blocked off. We peeked down the road to see crime scene tape and the medical examiner, we knew something was up, but we only found out the full story later that day. The tale goes that on Tuesday morning, around 10:00 a.m., police attempted to pull over a car in a generic traffic stop. The vehicle fled and made a turn down a side street.

Once the police had caught up to the car, it had crashed into a utility pole. And when the officer finally walked up to the driver's window, he saw that the driver was bleeding profusely from the neck. He had slit his own throat.

By the time the EMTs arrived at the scene, the man was pronounced dead. And after IDing him, authorities went to his home one town over to notify his next of kin. Instead, when they got to the door, no one answered, so they forced entry. Inside, they found the bodies of a man and a woman who were later identified as the driver's father and sister. Their bodies had been in the house for twelve days before being discovered.

Holy shit.

And then that's it. The sign off is stay sexy and just stay away from Long Island forever. Yours, Mary. Wow.

Yeah. You don't you don't do such a drastic thing because you outran the cops just for the hell of it. No, that's OK. That's what this is it. That's yeah. That's a big final act. Kind of horrifying thing. But but still, you know, I think it's very human to be a rubberneck earned to be like, whoa, there's a bunch of stuff happening down there. But like even it was just a car accident. You know, it might have just to find out that it's like layer upon layer upon layer will just be so freaky and horrible neighborhood.

Yeah.

Yeah. OK, this is just called Hometown Story. Hello, lovely ladies. Stephen and Pet Babies. I have a story for you from the Pacific Northwest. As we have learned many episodes, Canadians are not it are not all nice during a recent backyard. Socially dist. hang out with my mom and dad. I plugged the MFM pot and was thrilled when my mom expressed her interest in true crime and even suggested I send this story to you. Wonderful humans.

My dad grew up in the eighties in a city called New Westminster in the Vancouver, British Columbia area. He's always loved being outdoors, so he and his friends think the outsiders would get out of town for extended camping trips, fishing and generic tomfoolery in the forests of the great British Columbian wilderness and any opportunity they had. Sounds fun. On one weekend, as my dad, small group of friends were camping, they noticed a smell that they assumed was an animal that must have been decomposing somewhere in the vicinity.

It's never an animal decomposing. It's never a mannequin. But it wasn't close enough to ring any alarm bells. Flash forward to the next week and the body of my dad.

Missing 15 year old classmate was found in the same area as the campsite that they had been staying at and he had been murdered. This boy was the victim of a serial killer named Clifford Olson, who operated in the Lower Mainland from nineteen eighty to nineteen eighty one, who claimed the lives of 11 young people in the Vancouver area.

This sicko would post part time job ads targeted towards young people promising too good to be true wages in order to lure kids to him and away from their parents under the guise of work. Another weekend not long after the morbid camping trip, my dad and some friends were walking through the empty city streets, leading a house party. So at three a.m., when a white, windowless van screeches to a halt next to them and a man tries to entice the teens and the taking a ride home, they were rightfully freaked out and decided the best course of action was to swear and yell at the guy until he slammed on the passenger.

He slammed the passenger door and sped away. He has no proof that this is really Olson. But even if it wasn't trying to lure intoxicated teenage boys into a van in the middle of the night is next level sketchy? This is really long, but I hope it's worth it. Love you guys. Thank you for taking the time to read the story that has been on regular rotation during our family campfires and road trips. I hope everybody at the Mepham crew and all the fellow murderousness are safe, healthy and happy.

Always remember to follow your nose and never get into a van with strange men while the serial killer is on the loose.

SDM God, that's so insane. Like a kid is missing from their class. Yeah. And then they go have this experience while camping and just like find out they were basically near his body, the knowledge that they smelled that and then like it probably was the guy in the van.

Right now there's probably probably if it's in if it's in the town and it's like that's the town he was working in, who else? Because that's the thing that's so weird about it is like the windowless van community. It's what it is literally like house painters. Yeah. Is Certa certain, like certified delivery people and straight up serial killer. Yeah. There's it's such a small and maybe sometimes like a CIO basketball group, but it's like a windowless van.

There's no, no, no windows, maybe, maybe a band on tour once in a while. But they bought it from a fucking serial killer, probably their van. Right. You know. Right. Yeah. The subject line of this one is the neighbor and the world record. Greetings all. Hope this finds you. Healtheon Masked. I love your show. And when you asked for interesting neighbor stories, I had to gift you this little gem from my dad.

My dad has been telling me the tale of his grandpa, my great grandpa's neighbor, my whole life. And now it's time to pass it on to you all. In the sixties, my dad was a teenager and would spend his summers working on my great grandpa's ranch in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Have you ever been to South Dakota? Hmm. I don't think I've been to either Dakota ever. I think it's pretty gorgeous, right? Just like super like I think it's like prairies and obviously some black hills.

Right. Background. Right.

That sounds nice.

My great grandpa's nearest neighbor was a sheep rancher named Claude Willis. According to my dad, Mr. Willis was a big man of few words he always had on boots, a sweaty cowboy hat and a cigarette hanging from the corner of his lip. And then in parentheses, I'm picturing Jack Palance in City Slickers, my great grandpa. But shoot for Mr. Willis and my dad would spend his summer days back and forth working between the two ranches. As the years passed, Mr.

Willis suffered a stroke, left his ranch and moved in with his son and daughter in law in California. Hold on, because here comes the WTF moment on November 15th.

Nineteen sixty nine, Mr. Willison, his daughter in law, got into a heated argument. It was at this moment that he decided to unburden himself of a secret that he had held for over four decades. His name was not, in fact, Claude Willis. His name was actually Leonard T. Frisco in nineteen thirty.

I don't understand. Oh yeah. Well, I'm not who I said I was all these years, you know. Well, shut up for a second because I'm not who I say I am. Oh, you think you're better than me? No. Let me tell you something. I'm way worse than you think I am. OK, yeah.

That makes no sense. Why. And in my name is in Leonard Briscoe OK. In nineteen twenty, Mr. Frisco attempted to steal a model T some guns and ammunition. During his apprehension, he murdered two police officers. He was captured and sentenced to life in prison, but he escaped in nineteen twenty three. He had been living as Claude Willis ever since. Holy shit. After his confession. Yeah, after his confession, which I bet he regret, regretted the second that he was just like daughter in law.

You can't trust your daughter in law. He was a man of few words until he wasn't. Yeah. After his confession, his son and daughter in law turned him in and he went back to the nivat. A state prison after forty six years on the run. Seventy seven.

Your dad, you find that out about him? Yeah, no, that's yeah.

OK, Leonard Fresco lived a full and successful life under the radar and managed to secure himself a long standing spot in the Guinness Book of World Records as the longest escaped and recaptured prisoner.

My dad has a lot of tales from his past, but this one is my favorite. Stay sexy, stay safe. And if you want to break a world record, I'm sure there are easier ways to do it.

Emily. Holy shit. So, Claude Willis Leonard T. Frisco is the longest running, escaped and recaptured prisoner that there is forty six years. Wow. Wow. That's a good one. These are all dead themed I think. Yeah. And so is my dad time. So there's my next one. You know, Father's Day is coming up next year and we want you to be ready. That's right. Hello, ladies.

I just. Okay. It's a Stephen Merchant. I just listened to the last minute and I couldn't help but send in some more details on the Idlewild Park. Daniel Tiger little boy fell out of the roller coaster story. Thank God. Thank God. OK, get a follow up. Yes, I do. I, along with my dad and four siblings, have worked at Idlewild for many years. It's a popular summer job for kids in the Pittsburgh area, starting at age 14.

Right. Operators have to be 16. They wanted to clarify. I worked there for nine summers and my dad was there for more than 12 years. My siblings and I all worked in the food department and my dad was the lead carpenter and such a dad putting the nails up in the roller coasters.

That'll fix it. Yeah, yes. The roller coaster and the roller coaster in question was a wooden coaster. And during the off season, my dad was rebuilding sections of the track. So, yes, that's exactly what was fucking everything.

Oh, uh, on the day that this accident occurred, I was working at my nonideological job. When I heard the news of what happened, my heart instantly sank to my stomach because I was afraid that it had something to do with my dad's work and and could implicate him in some way. Luckily, it wasn't the fault of the coaster track, but the fact that the two brothers were seated together in a car and switched places once the train left the station, leaving the smaller boy on the outside of the car, I think he was also standing up, which made it too easy for him to fall out as the coaster went around a curve.

And then it says in parentheses, this could have obviously been avoided with seatbelts. My dad was one of the first employees on the scene, but fortunately, the first aid building is located right next to the coaster. And EMTs were with the boy immediately. As the last emailer said, he was life flighted to a nearby hospital for what my dad heard in the months following the little boy recovered. Well, I believe he has some minor lasting effects from the accident, but on the whole is doing well.

Phew. Well, I just wanted to share some more, huh? Mary's miracle to be thrown off a working roller coaster and not only live, but be OK.

Yeah, minor.

I mean, Jesus Christ, seriously, I just wanted to share some more insight on that accident as it is also as it also struck super close to home for me. Stay safe and wear seat belts on roller coasters, Amber.

Thank you, Amber. That's really good. That was good information.

Uh, no, I'm never going on a roller coaster again. My only I feel like I can definitively say that and just be fine with it.

Yeah. And at this point, I think it's healthy to be letting go of things like roller shoe for at least a little bit. But although I would like you to when everything gets normal again, I would like you to reapproach the Tower of Terror, because I think I think you have really good time. Is that a roller coaster? Kind of. That's the one where you basically drop in an elevator. It's like a broken elevator. And that I like.

But there's it's but it's all about the lead up where you're it just builds suspense and tension.

And then you just get in an elevator and it drops.

It's awesome. OK, I'll do it for you to impress you, OK? And I think it's the only thing that impressed me. Yeah. Forget about your good spelling. Forget about all those other ways you try to impress me, because aren't you the one that you had and you said you had an edible and then you had to leave like you couldn't go on it? I went on that, yeah. Yeah. But this time I'll be sober.

It'll be great. No, you don't have to be.

Thank you. 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. This just as hometown story, hi, friends, it feels like you literally are my friends now, I once I was once just a sporadic commute listener, but then 20, 20 happened. Now you are there for my long dog walks trying to cook and all my laundry folding of soly sweatpants.

And I feel that way. So to be feeling this, I never considered writing in until you asked about creepy neighbor stories. So let's just dive into back in the day and then apprentice's I'm thirty two. My mom would take my brother and I out. Trick or treating our neighborhood was pretty epic for Halloween. The houses were fairly close together. No street lights, just flashlights and every house participated. There was this house in the neighborhood that all the kids would save for last.

Why? Because it was awesome. This dude would go all out. He would transform his depressing single story to a haunted house any kid would love. Each year was themed. I'm not sure if my vivid memory is of just one year or all the years that we went there combined into one. For example, I recall a science theme where this dude, I guess that's his official name now was dressed as a mad scientist and all the kids could do interactive experiments like rubbing electric balls to make their hair stand up.

This was also the only home in the neighborhood that the kids would be invited into. Finally, the coolest part was seeing your picture. He took he took a view the previous year on the wall. So you know what? So, you know, when I was Lisa Left Eye Lopez, I could see myself pictured on the wall as a wizard. One year changes a lot. So let's recap. A single man opening his house up to children, playing dress up, taking their pictures and keeping their pictures on his wall.

You'd think all these glaring red flags would have smacked all the parents in the face. But this was the Niños. Fast forward. Two years later, dude was arrested for child pornography. Who would have thought? Right? I don't know. Literally anyone. So don't let creepy dudes take pictures of your kids. And if all signs are pointing to weirdo, don't ignore them with love. Lisa from Philly, where you know bad things happen.

Oh, God.

Oh my. Like, I want it to be real. I want him to be a good person and like, cool and like kind. And it's just like fun for him because he never had kids of his own or something. Why does he have to be a pervert and prove everyone right. He's just he's just a perv that's taking advantage of our national holidays, our beautiful women based pagan based holidays and using them to his own for his own uses and then kissing up to the moms.

OK, this is one my last one called Scandal at the Science Fair. Yeah. Hello, murder mams and the mustache man. All right. Mm mm. I vaguely remember an episode from forever ago when you guys talked about a dentist who contaminated his patients with HIV. I don't remember any of the details. Did this actually happen? Was it all a dream? Who knows? But it did remind me of a more innocent version of events that happened at my former elementary school.

And for reasons unbeknownst to all of us, today is the day that I decided to share it with you. Every year, starting fourth grade, students were allowed to prepare a science fair project on the topic of their choice. You know, a bunch of trifold posterboard seven year olds milling about the hot gym, the whole deal. Well, one girl who herself was diabetic decided to do her project on diabetes in an effort to thoroughly impact other young scientific minds.

She wanted to give her classmates a first hand experience of what it was like to have to prick yourself with a needle every day to check your blood sugar. Bad idea. And she only brought one needle. Terrible idea. By the time the teacher caught on, about twenty five kids had pricked themselves with the same Lancet. No. Yes, yes.

Oh, good idea. I've got. He had ideas, kid ideas, I didn't mean to kill you, that's great ideas.

When I was in elementary school, I stayed as far away from shots and needles as possible. So I don't know what these kids were thinking. I'm sure this was an absolute nightmare for the school administration. But the health department was called and fortunately, no diseases were spread. So no harm done, I guess. Thank you all so much for the joy you bring into my life. Listening to you in my long solitary drives to and from college, so much more enjoyable, although I did get extra freaked out when I needed to stop for gas at night.

Stay safe. Maybe check your kid's science fair project the night before.

That stuff like that. So like they all wanted to like try to understand what she was going through. Like twenty five kids were like, sure, let's do this. It would have been fine if she had followed the idea. If I was her teacher I'd have been like, look f because do you use the same needle every time you know, you don't you put you put it in your biohazard box right over in the over in the laundry room or whatever you may you have to keep that same standard here.

Here at the site. I feel like I feel like as a teacher, you should catch on early, that if anything has to do with blood, you know what I mean?

Like, if any of the kids are doing a project where blood is involved, maybe I feel like I'm sure teachers, you know, it's overcrowded classrooms these days. Yeah. We let's let's not be teacher blamers. But I would say that was a teacher who maybe didn't do one pass through and just get the full sense of what we're OK. We get what your actual science or project is about. But what will you be doing with your time here at the Science Fair?

Will there be blood porn? There will be blood. There will be blood. You're seven years old.

You sure he's my favorite murder at Gmail or on the website?

We we love when you guys write in, it's the best. Yeah, we we rely on it and we thank you for participating in it. Stay safe, stay strong and stay sexy and don't get murdered. Good bye, Elvis.

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