MFM Minisode 511 - The Halloween Minisode

[MUSIC] This is exactly right. [MUSIC] I'm Lacey Mosley, author, actor, stand-up comedian, creator and host of Scam Goddess Podcast. The True Crime Comedy Podcast, all about robbery, fraud, and those who practice it. Each week I bring on an amazing guess. Ooh, I scammed them. What? I could talk to you for an hour. You're a generational yapper, like me. That's why I had to make yapping a job. And now you can catch full episodes of my show on YouTube. Start listening to Scam Goddess on the iHeart radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcast. [MUSIC] [MUSIC] [MUSIC] Hello, and welcome to my favorite murder. The mini, so we read you your spooky, spooky stories. Good job. That was improvisation, ladies and gentlemen. I was just following. We're bewitched. I mean, okay, you want me to go first? [LAUGHTER] Okay, the subject line is most epic Halloween fail ever. It says, "Hello, MFM team. Hope you are well. Happy spooky season, pumpkin emoji, which I realize is my favorite emoji now." Oh, cute. It's just so good. It is. Perfectly designed. Do I have a great Halloween horror story for you? I moved to Paris a couple years ago and got a job as an events manager in a French company. It was coming up on Halloween, so I decided to organize a party. Now, I did not realize that the French do not take Halloween seriously. That's true. One of my friends, who's French, Super French, Melissa loves coming to give out candy at our house for tricker, like for kids, because they don't do it there. It's the most non-French thing in the world. Yeah. She loves it. Yeah. In the parentheses, it says, "I'm Irish, so we've always gotten into it." Yeah. That's right. I think the Irish are the first, what is it called? The first Jacqueline turn. The Irish just carved a face into a turn up, which makes it look like the eyes and mouth are bleeding. So anyway, hooray for us. On the big day, I noticed no one was yet in their outfit, and I thought they must just be shy. So I put mine on, and everyone will get involved. So off I go, putting on my aggressive costume, complete with face and body paint, to really add to the vibe. Well, let me tell you, I ended up sitting in the office for two hours as the only one dressed up, and it was so embarrassed saying, "Oh my god, what is it?" She's a fucking pumpkin. Thank you, pumpkin. And France and everyone else isn't like, "Drab, we're close." She is. That's hilarious. Face painted, bright orange, pumpkin. I love her. I love her. I know. Right? I thought she gives the best presence. I bet she is. Well, she's like an events coordinator. Yeah. She's like, "Let's make this thing happen." Totally. And I'm cool being the first one to do it. Like, let's get everyone out on the dance floor. I'll go first. The problem is there will be no second person to do it, because we cannot do this with you. It is human-eating. Also, this is the Katie Dippold dress as the Bobbie picture. Totally. Totally. I'll say. Totally. It's so great. My colleague, so it just she has a little more of it. My colleagues were so confused, I'd actually gotten dressed up and went to such an extreme. One of the bosses saw me and felt so bad, he went out and bought some outfits for people, so I wasn't alone. Oh, that's nice. And there she says, "Haha-haha." Honestly, I was so mortified, but also I was happy to influence them to get more into Halloween. And now the company has an annual Halloween party where people get dressed up. Yes. And then there's applause about juice. I love that. That's how. This was such a dire situation that the French took pity and started a yearly party. Totally. She thinks it's a Halloween party, but it's the French making fun of her. It's a pity party. Truly. It's a mocking behind your back. It's a pity party with costumes. A concoctulation was once again. You've done it. It's the worst. Okay. And sure, look, it made for a really funny story, so it's worth the humiliation. Totally. Love you guys. Been listening since day one. Have listened to all episodes three times. Wow. Wow. Thank you. Sitting in that office. Can't talk to anybody. Just listening to this podcast. We're with you. We're with you. We're with you. We're with you. We're with you. Stay sexy and always dress like a pumpkin. I lean. I lean. That's adorable. You're the cutest. Yeah. That's the best. Everyone else just laughing behind their French hands. I'm Lacey Mosley, author, actor, stand-up, comedian, creator, and host of Scam Goddess Podcasts. The True Crime Comedy Podcasts all about robbery, fraud, and those who practice it. Each week I bring on an amazing guest. Ooh. I scammed them. What? You're a generational yapper. Like me. Start listening to Scam Goddess on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Okay, this one's called part-time Realtor, part-time paranormal investigator. Hello my favorite people and furry friends. I'm writing to you from my hometown of Rumson, New Jersey. It was the early 2000s, and my Realtor mom was excited to show her childhood best friend Cindy, with an eye, houses within our neighborhood. It didn't take long for Cindy to fall in love with one of the first houses she saw. Cindy's family of four were all settled in and excited to start their new lives. After a month or so, Jenna, Cindy's youngest daughter, began telling her mom that she had a new friend, a man, that lived in the house too. At the time, Jenna was only three years old, so Cindy began to brush it off as it being an imaginary friend. And I became obsessive over this friend. She would talk to him constantly and play with his invisible friend in her room. Toy started to go off randomly when the kids weren't home, and eventually it all started to scare Cindy with an eye. So she decided to call her paranormal loving friend, my mother, Dana. My mom came over and sat down with Jenna asking her all about her new friend. My mom's first question was, "Is your friend nice?" Jenna responded, "Yes, but he's very sad. He misses his family." Dana then says, "What do you two talk about?" Jenna replies, "He talks about the house, the boys, and we play games." Lastly, my mom says, "What does he look like?" Jenna tells him, "He has a scary face like he got hurt real bad." At that moment, my mom's jaw dropped. She turned to Cindy and immediately knew who Jenna was talking to. The family that lived in the house before them were a mom, dad, and three boys. The dad had recently passed away in a horrible fire. The family needed a fresh start and sold their house, and it didn't take long before Cindy and her family bought it. And her mom didn't say anything about it, but she didn't die in the house. Her best friend wanted her to live in the neighborhood so bad. She's like, "I'm not even going to tell her this." Her realtor? Oh, because she knew it. She was the realtor, yeah. You've discovered the true horror of this email, because I'm just like, "What happened to that guy's face?" I think he was in a fire and died. And then the family, I didn't want to stay in the house for they used to live with him as to say. Right. But Jesus. Yeah. Disclosure. My mom and Cindy were freaking out. My mom located the previous family's new address and told Jenna to pass the message along and sure enough, the man was no longer in the house and Jenna had stopped talking to her new friend. He found his family because they weren't there anymore. I mean, I don't want to hear a sad ghost story. I know. Just like, come at me with a razor blade or something, but Jesus is like, "My sad imaginary ghost friend." He's a little burnt and he has clinical depression and I'm free. Can anybody help me with this burden? What a true horror story that is. Stay sexy and don't sell your friends a haunted house. It literally says, "Lots of love, Kelly." So true. Totally. Yeah. So true. Totally. Yeah. That's like a discount. Yeah. That's like, you don't get your realtor fee from that Cindy with an eye. Okay. Here's my email. I'm not going to read you the subject line. It says, "Hi, Karen and Georgia." I worked at Spirit Halloween one year while I was in college. Amazing. My favorite. One opened in the same mall where I already worked at Hollister. Fucking Hollister. And I thought, "Perfect, more hours, huge mistake." Within the first week I realized I'd made a grave error pun intended. The non-stop screeching goblins, cackling witches and relentless squeak of animatronics for six hours straight nearly sent me into an overstimulated coma. Never thought about that. I would go crazy. Yeah. That's every possible sense that you have. Maybe not smell. Probably smell. They wouldn't even let me ring people up because I was new. So I spent my shifts cleaning up the wigs that roving packs of cleans had just stroked. They were the ones in the plastic bag to re-bag the wig. Then one day my manager came up to me and said, "I had to go out into the mall in costume to attract customers." Oh, no. I said, "I guess she handed me a full wears Waldo outfit, hat glasses, everything." And sent me out there. Now keep in mind, this was my mall. I knew tons of the other mall workers, all my friends worked here too. And I am not exactly the person you picked to hype up a girl. crowd. I'm a quiet and shy girl. After what felt like an eternity of awkwardly holding a spirit Halloween sign and praying no one I knew would walk by, my manager came out and told me that I needed to be a little more enthusiastic. I rolled my eyes, lifted the sign a little higher and accepted my faith. That's so embarrassing. So it's so bad. I had to be the greeter at the gap every once in a while and I truly was soulcrushing. It's kind of bad. Very bad. It's the reason I tried so hard and stand up comedy because I was like, I can't go back. The next shift, she asked me to do it again. I said fine, but this time I'm picking my own costume. I chose Gumby because it would cover my face so smart. In front of these genius, right? Except I didn't realize how much attention a cartoon character gets in public. Oh, no. Within minutes, kids were hugging my legs. Teenagers were taking selfies. One guy actually hugged me and yelled, Oh my God, it's a small person in there. They thought it was the real Gumby. That was the final straw. I begged to work the registers, but they wouldn't let me. And I was over it. Luckily, it was just a seasonal job. And honestly, I can't even remember if I went back after Halloween to help pack up. To this day, 12 years later, I still think about that Gumby costume dragging under my shoes. My favorite thing to ask new friends is, what's the worst job you've ever had? Because for me, without a doubt, it was spirit Halloween. Wow. Stay sexy and don't get a job. It's spirit Halloween page. Damn. That's good. So good. What is your worst job? Murdering us. Yes. Right. I sent my favorite murder a Gmail. That was actually a combination of a Halloween email and a bit of a welcome to shame town. Totally. So let us know. Tell us. We just want to hear all about the worst things that have ever happened. Yeah, you know, how we do it. My favorite murder a Gmail. Okay. This is called spooky goodness. Hi, MFM fam. Love all your faces. Tell your cats, dogs and critters. I say hi. Spooky story time. A few years ago, I was up in Placerville, Idaho, on a day drive with a good friend of mine and her four-year-old daughter. When you think of Placerville, think of a middle of nowhere mountain town, tons of trees blissfully quiet with a population of less than 40. And that's it. No, I didn't forget. New zero's. Wow. We decided to go to the old pioneer cemetery to look around because who isn't fascinated by old gravestones and the stories they tell? As we walked past moss-covered headstone after headstone, we read the names and dates to ourselves, only commenting out loud if we found a certain marker, particularly beautiful or interesting. Sounds amazing. Yeah, you love stuff like that. In the plot, there were several headstones that were for children that had passed away far too soon. My friend's daughter was oblivious to all this. She spent her time skipping around happily collecting wildflowers. But then, in an instant, the little girl's mood changed. She ran over to her mom, wrapped both her arms around her leg, and hung on for dear life. Her smile was gone and she was near tears. My friend bent down and asked her what was wrong, and her daughter replied quietly, "Tell the other kids to stop picking on me." And it says, "You were the only ones there." Also, the way you read that weirdly made my shoulders tingle. I would like to think my mom, Janet, for being such a good reader as it when I was a kid, she was so good at voices and creepy pauses and the good stuff, so good at it. Needless to say, my friend and I shared an instant, what in the actual fuck look hastily made our way back to the car and left. Stay sexy and don't let the ghost children bully you. Um, she had enough of an experience with ghosts that she got bullied. Let me say it one more time. Yeah, really. Tell the other kids to stop picking on me. Tell me other kids to stop picking on me. They're like, "Get out of here, you live in creature." Yeah, really. Get, you can't sit with us. You didn't understand how it is. So, he's cold. Oh, man. We're in the afterlife. Fuck that. Also, this was like a thing that was online long ago, but it was like the outfit you'd die in is the outfit you wear as a ghost. Right. And that, I'm obsessed with it. I'm obsessed with that idea. Or is it like your favorite outfit? And like, what would you like to think of as your favorite outfit? And like, are you the age you were when you died always? I think so. Well, I'm just thinking of that sitcom where all the dead people are haunting somebody and it's just like, and you just have a thing in your head or whatever. I love that. Okay. Okay. I love that. Okay. Here's my last one. I'm not going to read you the subject line of this Halloween mini, mini email. It says, "Hello to all and happy Halloween. Love the show. Let's get into it." My husband and I love everything fall. Pumpkin, carving, apple, picking, leaf, peeping, the whole shebang. The only thing my husband does not enjoy is the haunted houses. The super scary ones with the actors covered in blood or swinging machetes at you. Yeah. It's never go too long. No way. Yeah. And in parentheses, it says, "I love them." So it says, "When we were dating, we went to a nighttime corn maze in Rhode Island, right near our college, that was the most adorable thing ever. You parked your car along a row of hay bales and walked along a path decorated with squad gourds and square crows to a charming little red barn. In that red barn, you would buy your tickets from the cutest couple in their 70s, who would hand you a flashlight and then tell you to watch out. I hear there ghosts in the maze tonight with a wink and a smile. Then you would hop on a hay ride to the maze and make your way through. Inside the maze were cute jack-o-lanterns with smiling faces and corn facts. Yes, facts about corn. An example. An example. Did you know the corn grown on this farm is used to feed 70% of the cows in Rhode Island? Wow. Oh, so they're like teaching about the farm. Yeah, that's adorable. And then it says, "And the ghosts, they were two teenagers dressed in old clothes with their faces painted white, they wore crocs." And then all caps. Crocs. The least scary footwear ever. I disagree. Now for the good part. My husband and I convinced a few friends of ours to go to this corn maze with us the following year. We had couple friends who are scaredy cats like my husband, but we assured them it was not at all scary. So we arrived and it's the same as the year before, scarecrows, gourds, the cute red barn, the old couple in the barn still sold us tickets and warned us about the ghosts with the little smile. Then we all hop on the hay ride. Everything was fine until I saw a face from over my right shoulder. The face had a white bloody mask on it. I soon realized this person was climbing over the side of the hay ride and was wielding a chainsaw in his hand. He left onto the hay ride right next to me and started to pull on the cord that started the chainsaw. I was convinced this was some maniac who was going to murder us all. All of our friends screamed and my fighter flight kicked in. I stood up screamed as loud as I could in his face and punched him in the stomach. Oh my god. What the hell? The guy said, I'm an actor. My response, not oh, sorry, but I yelled, you weren't here last year. It turns out the the cute old couple hired professional haunted house actors for their maze this year, but there was literally no signage that told you of this big change. No. When we finally got to the maze, a creepy little doll girl told us, please don't touch the actors and they won't touch you too late. Stay sexy and don't trust the cute old couple S. I don't know what's scarier. I don't know. The fake ax thing still freaks me out. Get me get away. You probably don't know how to use a chainsaw. I mean, that's terrifying. These are you're an actor. You ever held a chainsaw on your own in life? Exactly. Okay. This last one is a haunting story. Okay. Okay. Hey friends, I've been listening since the beginning and I've actually gone back and started from the beginning again because I'm a mom and apparently listening to murder while my children watch blippy for the thousandth time is what self-care looks like now. Hey, we're her blippy. It's right. Hi. I was listening to many said 385 were Georgia talked about coming back as a ghost and leaving a sign and I immediately thought, yes, I finally have a story for you. My mom died in June 2023 after being diagnosed with cancer earlier that year. She was only 67. She was hilarious, loved music and food, loved her grandkids and most importantly for this story, apparently took instructions for haunting very seriously. Oh, shit. For the end, my mom moved into our suite so she could be close to us and to my two kids who were two and five at the time. On the afternoon, she was going to die through made medical assistance and dying. Thank you, Canada. Amazing. We were sitting together and because I'm a murderino and incapable of letting an incredibly emotional moment remain appropriately emotional, I said, hey, mom, you know, you could come back and haunt me, right? She looked at me like Rachel, what the fuck? So I clarified, okay, not haunt me, just give me a sign that you're okay, you know, from the other side. She looked genuinely concerned. What? How would I do that? You're giving your mom a job that she's done. She says she's done enough. I don't know, mom, I've never been dead. Maybe slam some doors or something immediately. No, I can't do that, Rachel. You teach the kids not to slam doors. What if I scared them? Of course. My mom was preparing to cross into another dimension and was still concerned about undermining my parenting. Okay, sorry. Let me just stop you there. this is your fault. What are you doing, giving your dying mother? Everyone grieves differently. The person dying? It's not fair. It says fair. Okay, then this is quote, okay, no doors. Nest with our music or something. We were always playing music in our house, so this seemed reasonable. She smiled, chuckled, waved me off, and that was that. My mom died peacefully later that night, surrounded by loved ones and grandkids. This is how we should have the respect to die with dignity when we're ready if necessary. And then on the other side of that, we should have the respect to have a little fucking health insurance that's universal so that we don't have to fucking why are we in charge? Why are aren't we in charge? Oh, sorry, I thought you said why are we in charge? I hate universal health care. Okay, loved ones and her grandkids who were old enough to get what was happening and her dog Charlie. The next day, all caps, my sisters and I were sitting in my living room trying to decide how to honor her life. We decided to do it in my backyard and have really good Lebanese food. She was Lebanese and food was her love language. When completely out of nowhere, our speakers turned themselves on and started blaring jazz. My mom loved jazz and apparently the afterlife has no concept of indoor volume. We all froze. My sister immediately said it's mom. Q three grown women simultaneously losing their shit. But wait, Nana was just getting started. When my mom died, we played a couple of her favorite songs. One of them was River by Leon Bridges. And it says, you know the one. Take, take me to your river. Later that same day, after the spontaneous jazz concert, my sisters and I took the dogs for a walk. We turned a corner and could hear music playing somewhere nearby. As we got closer, I realized I knew the song because, of course, I did. There was a woman sitting on her front step, absolutely blaring river by Leon Bridges. We stopped dead in our tracks and then all three of us burst into tears while staring at this completely innocent stranger. This poor woman was probably thinking, Jesus Christ, I was just trying to enjoy Leon Bridges. At this point, we were like, okay, mom, message received except apparently mom was thinking, no, no, I want to make absolutely fucking sure. You decided to stop me right before I died. I'm going to deliver this. You're gonna get what you asked for. That evening, I was rocking my two-year-old son, Hayes to sleep. The house was quiet and suddenly all caps. The speaker turned on again. And what started playing? Fucking river. At this point, I'm assuming my mom had located the Celestial Sonos password and was having the absolute time of her afterlife. But then my two-year-old smiled, snuggled into my shoulder and very casually said, "Bye, Nana." And went straight to sleep. All caps, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. So apparently my mom figured out the whole send me a signed thing approximately 12 hours after dying. Honestly, very on-brand. Give that woman a task and she will complete it. And the music thing still happens. Every once in a while our speakers will randomly turn on or musical start playing when no one has touched anything. Sometimes it happens when I really need it. Sometimes I think my mom just finds our house too quiet. Either way, now instead of freaking out, someone in our family will just yell, "Hi, Nana. That's so sweet." That's so sweet. So Georgia, if you do come back as a ghost someday, my advice is to establish your haunting parameters in advance. Apparently, you can request specific methods of communication. Just maybe don't choose slamming doors. It sets a bad example for the children. Thank you both for making me laugh for so many years and for giving me somewhere to send my dead mom DJ story. Yeah, sorry. This is so long. I get it from my mom. We talk a lot. Apparently even death couldn't stop her. Stay sexy and give your dead loved ones haunting instructions. They might actually listen Rachel. Fucking Rachel, you're a legend. Legendary email. That's a unbelievably beautiful story. Yeah. Yeah. Like, I love that. I love it. Like, what a great feeling. Yeah. Well, we did it. You guys. Perfection. Spooky Halloween. Spooky Halloween. Thanks to your emails. Thank you so much for writing in and listening and watching for years and years. For years and years. And stay sexy. And don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, do you want a cookie? This has been an exactly right production. Our managing producer is Molly Smith. Our consulting producer is Kate Shellmbach. Our creative lead is Alice in the Gosty. Our associate producer is Tessa Hughes and our editor is Aristotle Acevedo. This episode was mixed by Leana Squalachi. Email your hometowns to my favorite murder at gmail.com and follow the show on Instagram at my favorite murder. Listen to my favorite murder on the iHeartRadio app Apple podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts. Or watch new episodes every week on Netflix. Search for my favorite murder, add us to your list and hit the double thumbs up button. Goodbye.