Episode 694: Listener Tales 100: Bridal Edition!

Hey weirdos, it's Ash.

Before we dive into today's twisted tale, let me tell you about the spooky perks of Wondery Plus.

It's like having a skeleton key that unlocks ad-free listening and early access to new episodes.

So don't wait, try Wondery Plus today.

You can join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or in Apple Podcasts or Spotify.

You're listening to a Morbid Network Podcast.

Listening on Audible helps your imagination soar.

Whether you listen to stories, motivation, expert advice, any genre you love, you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities, and new ways of thinking.

Listening can lead to positive changes in your mood, your habits, and ultimately your overall well-being.

Audible has an incredible selection of over 1 million audiobooks, podcasts, and audible originals all in one easy app.

Find the genres you love and discover new ones.

Explore bestsellers like my sister's title.

New releases, plus thousands of included audiobooks, podcasts, and originals that members can listen to all they want with more added all the time.

I have been listening to the Martha's Vineyard Beach and Book Club, which actually Elena recommended to me.

She did not listen to it, but she said, Girl, this title sounds so you.

And let me tell you, it did.

I've been listening to it while I walk, and I am absolutely loving it.

I love all the different narrators.

I love Audible.

There's more to imagine when you listen.

Sign up for a free 30-day Audible trial, and your first audiobook is free.

Visit audible.com/slash morbid.

Think about the most disturbing government secrets you've learned from history.

Now imagine discovering one that begins in a hospital room and leads straight to classified military operations that were buried for decades.

Listen to a Redacted Medical Mystery, a special episode from Redacted and Mr.

Ballin's Medical Mysteries, available now wherever you get your podcasts.

Hey, weirdos, I'm Ash.

And I'm Elena.

And this is Morbid.

Listener Tales is brought to you by you, for you, from you, and all about you.

Amen.

Woo!

Woo!

And it's Bride Edition.

It's Bride Edition.

I am a Dead Bride.

I am Grace from Ready or Not.

If you haven't seen that, you should see that.

You got to see that movie.

So good.

Yeah, I love that movie.

This is the fourth time that I've dressed up as a dead bride because in my childhood, I dressed up as a dead bride.

I've probably said this before, but if you're new here, you didn't know.

Yeah.

You were, you're a dead bride quite a bit growing up.

And do you know what?

It was your go-to and you, you nailed it.

Do you know what?

I feel so bonita right now.

Yeah.

She feels the best she's ever felt right now.

I want to wear this.

I just want to be, maybe this is who I am.

I think it might be who I am.

Maybe it's who I am.

Yeah.

Yeah.

I was going to be Lydia Dietz, but my costume wasn't going to come in time.

I said, what the fuck am I going to do?

And then I said, I mean, I have my dress that I took my engagement pictures in.

in, so we might as well ruin it.

I guess I could cover it in blood.

I've never worn it again.

It's been like three years.

Scratch the dress.

Yeah.

So here we are.

Let's go, girls.

It's a comfy dress.

And maybe I'll be a dead bride again for Halloween this year.

I think you should be.

I think I should be too.

I want to save this.

I was the corpse bride last year.

That was a really good day.

It was so much fun.

I thought about doing that.

And then I was like, oh, that's like a lot of makeup.

Yeah, you got to be a lot of blue.

Yeah.

That's the thing.

Because this is also a lot of makeup, but blue is different.

Blue.

Yeah.

Blue hits different.

You'll be tinged that way for a few days, so yeah.

Um, we're also going to be on Watch What Crappens after this.

If you listen to Watch What Crappens, I don't know if I think they know they put their videos on Patreon, yeah, so we might still look like this for a below deck recap.

Yeah, which lucky for me, I don't look super different, especially from here up.

It's like a different vibe, I suppose, but this is a little different, just a little, just slightly, but you know, a little bit fine, a little bit.

So, yeah, um, we did some bride tales.

Some of them are like

super duper wedding themed.

Some of them...

Just

rest your gun between us.

She's obviously fake.

Yeah, duh.

Like, obviously.

You think we got a gun license up in this bitch?

And some are just kind of like wedding adjacent.

Yeah.

Correct.

Yeah.

Correct.

Yeah.

Do you want to start or do you want me to start?

I'll start.

Okay, great.

I'll close my computer in that case.

So you're not Mac forward.

Yeah, I don't want to be Mac forward.

I'm going to leave it ajar, though, so I don't have to enter my password every time.

Should I do?

Let's see.

The first one is really sweet.

It's really sweet.

Yeah.

Maybe I should have you read that one.

First, they're sour, then you're me.

All right, let's see.

Uh, what about my haunted wedding?

Yeah, that one's good.

Okay, let's do my haunted wedding.

All right, let me see.

Right, that one's good.

It's from Allison.

Allison said it's okay to say her name.

All right.

Allison.

Allison, huh?

We got to get it in there.

Allison, I love your Yabos.

So it says, Hey, you gorgeous, spooky babes.

My name is Allison.

Feel free to use it.

Also, I use she/her pronouns.

Thank you for that.

That's very helpful.

I think this is the part where I praise you for bringing the greatest podcast that has ever graced my ears into existence.

Thank you.

I love listening to you talk about anything and everything and love how your personalities shine through your show.

Thanks.

Every time I catch up on episodes from you, I try my best to find another podcast to fill the void in my day.

As great as some other shows are, they just aren't the same.

Please never stop bringing us your funny personalities and morbid tales.

Love ya.

Paul, I love you.

You never will.

Forever.

We're here.

I'm resubmitting this group of short listener tales after a few years.

I realized that I hadn't double-spaced the previous putafa, so obvious you could not read it on the pod.

I'll be writing about experiences that I and my guests had at our wedding held at the George Washington Hotel.

I provided the address below because while there are a lot of hotels named the George Washington Hotel, none are quite like this queen.

Maybe that's why Nicholas said incorrect because he was like, you were married there.

And she's like, oh, I was married at the other one.

That's a good point.

You know, maybe he only knows another one.

He just knows of the one.

Yeah.

I first came across this mesmerizing beauty when I was searching for wedding venues in the Pittsburgh area.

I found the name of the hotel on one of the many wedding planning websites I was using at the time.

There are so many.

So many.

The listing had no pictures and only a short description.

However, George Washington and I go way back.

When I was a small child, my family and I visited Disney World.

Yes, this does relate to George Washington.

My father dragged us to the Hall of Presidence.

I knew that was coming.

Every time we've gone to Disney, it's been closed.

We never want to go.

John desperately wants to go to the Hall of Presidents, but it was closed every time.

You know what that means?

What?

We have to go back.

They don't allow those.

They don't allow them.

They don't allow those.

You're like, no, they don't allow them in a way.

Don't get me banned, please.

Don't do it.

My boy.

My father dragged us to the Hall of Presidents because he is an accountant and that is what they do for fun.

Well, there I discovered, to my great dismay, that the great George Washington, the man who led the American Revolution and fathered our country in 1776, was dead.

I'm sorry for your loss.

As you can imagine, this was very difficult for me emotionally.

And I spent most of the day sobbing as I mourned the loss of our great first president.

I'm so sad.

And it says,

just to clarify, at the time we only learned the good things about American history in school.

How incredibly naive of us.

Yeah.

Nailed it.

Like nailed it.

Fast forward about 20 years and I adopt my very first dog.

He's pictured below.

I would never leave you hanging like that.

This little scruff monster has the most serious face and disposition.

So how could I name him anything other than, you guessed it, George Washington.

Absolutely iconic dog name.

I love it.

George Washington, come here.

Come here, George Washington.

Come here, founding father.

So when I came across the weird hotel on this weird hotel on the list, even though there are no pictures showcasing gorgeous ballrooms or overflowing cookie tables, a Pittsburgh wedding tradition, that's the best wedding tradition I've ever heard.

Yeah, I love overflowing cookie tables.

Sign me up.

Undoubtedly, Nicholas says, undoubtedly, a fucking like banger wedding tradition.

That is Nicholas's version of saying, fuck yeah.

That's it.

Direct translation.

We knew we had to check it out.

Looking at the website, we found that it was not only gorgeous, but has an incredible history to it.

The George Washington Hotel was built in 1922 and opened on February 22nd, 1923.

Pisces season.

No.

Aquarius season.

Sorry.

Sorry.

To this day, they try to maintain the original feel of the hotel by making minimal adjustments and updates.

I love that.

The layout of the building, to my knowledge, is the same as it has always been.

Most rooms are two-person suites, and they have a speakeasy in the basement.

Shut the front door.

What is cooler than that?

I agree, Allison.

Nothing is cooler than that.

Imagine having a speakeasy at your wedding, too.

That's badass.

I wish that I hadn't already had and planned my wedding.

Allison had a speakeasy and an overflowing cookie table.

Yeah, excuse me.

Not just a cookie table.

In its heyday, the GW Hotel was also a hotspot for some big names.

El Capone.

Hey, I know.

JFK.

My man's.

And the goddess herself.

Marilyn motherfucking Monroe are listed among those who visited.

But wait.

It gets better.

You can actually stay in the room that Marilyn Monroe stayed in when she visited.

Shut the fuck up.

We have to do this.

Auditorialist.

We have to.

Auditorial list.

It is very creatively named the Marilyn Monroe Suite.

How did they come up with that?

I know.

That's really creative.

After our first visit, we were sold.

This was our venue.

Very unique and very us.

Because this venue is gorgeous and special, we were not the only ones who booked it.

There was a wedding scheduled on Friday night and ours was on Saturday.

This leads to my first spooky tale.

Spooky tale number one, my own.

I myself have always been a bit spooky.

As a child, I said plenty of creepy things like, quote, I have a bad feeling about tonight to the consistent dismay of my family.

That would fuck me up.

That would also be to my consistent dismay.

Truly.

One time when our phone rang, as my mother went to pick it up, I said, oh, is it Jimmy?

Jimmy is my mother's cousin who calls maybe once a year.

Sure enough, this was that annual phone call.

I have an incredibly underdeveloped Claire audience, which we just looked up.

We didn't know what that was.

So thanks for telling me.

It means you can like hear shit that's inaudible.

Yeah, that's pretty cool.

Kind of, was was it like telepathy, sort of?

I imagine something like that.

Yeah.

I feel similar.

Which I'm a little too afraid to actually work on, but it does result in me frequently waking up to hearing people saying my name.

Gross.

Not sleep paralysis, though, thank God.

And even one time let my grandmother speak to me from beyond the grave.

That's fucking cool.

I would work on that.

I would work on that.

Yeah.

I was trying to put my newborn baby down to sleep.

He's 11 months now.

And there are obviously pictures below of his cute, squishy face.

Yeah.

Oh, my goodness.

Congratulations.

We'll post the puppy but not the baby.

Yeah.

And he was not having it.

He was crying.

I was crying.

We've all been there.

I was desperately trying to get a hold of myself when I heard Allison.

My friend, my husband wasn't home.

Neither was her friend.

My friend wasn't home.

My husband wasn't home.

So it wasn't him.

A psychic later confirmed that it was my grandmother telling me to get my shit together and get my baby to sleep.

She said, get it done.

She's like, do it.

It worked.

Anyway, back to the actual story here.

Even though there was a wedding in the hotel the night before our own, theirs was small enough that there was still about 10 rooms left that my guests and I could use on Friday night.

So we didn't have to haul all of our business in on Saturday morning.

Our ceremony was scheduled for 2.30 p.m.

on Saturday, and we wanted to get all the bridal party pictures done beforehand.

Smart.

So smart.

I did that.

Highly recommend that.

I also did that.

Yep.

Which meant a very early curtain call for all the bridesmaids and need of an up-to-date.

My stylists were coming to set up at 7 o'clock.

So at 6.45 a.m., I am marching my sleepy bridal butt down the hallway to the elevator to get to our readying suite on the mezzanine level.

As I'm walking down the carpeted hallway, I hear the elevator ding and a pair of high-heeled shoes begin to walk out of the hardwood elevator vestibule.

Click, clack, click, clack, click, click.

My first thought would be, is that Marilyn?

Keep reading.

My first thought is, yes, bridesmaid from last night's wedding.

Way to get some and walk.

I love this way to get some and walk of.

And she wrote shame and crossed it out and wrote fame before everyone is up, honey.

You did that wedding right.

Three steps later and I'm ready to mentally high-five my new friend on her victory.

You're a girl scarlet.

I love it.

Only to discover that there is no one there and the elevator door is closed.

And I oop.

I think, hmm, maybe she just got into the elevator and I missed the sound of the door closing.

I hit the button and the door opens immediately, signaling to me that it hasn't moved and revealing a completely empty carriage.

I can't quite explain to you how certain I was that there was a person.

I know what I heard, and I know that there is no way that I made that up in my sleepy state.

I didn't expect to hear anyone up at that hour, especially not in high heels.

And then, when I did hear it, I acknowledged it and even made up a story in my head about who those footsteps belonged to.

In my deepest, wildest dreams, they belonged to Marilyn Monroe.

But who knows?

I do.

We all belong to Marilyn Monroe.

It was Marilyn.

Absolutely.

It's cannon now.

Spooky tale number two, Ainsley's.

The next story is similar to the first, but belongs to my friend Ainslie.

Feel free to use her name.

She's a big fan of the show.

I love that name.

And definitely is losing her shit right now if you're reading this.

Pick your shit back up.

Find it.

Pick it up.

At this point in your reading of this note, I am no longer losing my shit because I've simply passed out from all the excitement.

Wake up.

I was just going to say, wake up.

Wake up.

Anyway, Ainslie.

Ainslie is a witchy bitch, and it is no surprise to me that she was the one who also had an experience.

Ainslie was staying at a different hotel since rooms at the GW were so limited.

So when she was a little too tipsy and had to pee, she felt too fancy to use the public bathrooms, I guess, and opted instead to head to our friend's room on another floor.

The second she stepped off the elevator, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she heard footsteps down at the end of the hall.

She heard the footsteps stop, but didn't hear a door or anything open.

Well, in the words of Ainslie, she then went to investigate the creepy footsteps on the abandoned floor of a 100-year-old hotel because she is, quote, a drunk white girl, and that is what we do babes it's true

she said she saw nothing and no one and the hallway was freezing cold and she just felt something perhaps a loved sick jfk searching for his marilyn could they both be trapped searching for each other in the same hotel three floors apart for eternity maybe you should have kept it in your pants jack maybe

maybe jack i love that it's just like romance

romance romance you should have kept it in your pants jack and immediately he became jack too yeah That's when you know.

You're not even John today.

You're in trouble.

The town of Agda in France is famous for sun, sand, sea, and sex.

But lately, life on the coast has taken a strange turn.

The town's mayor, a respected pillar of the community, has been arrested for corruption.

His wife claims he's been bewitched by a beautiful clairvoyant.

Then there's the mysterious phone calls that local people have been getting.

I am the Archangel Michael.

The whole town has been thrown into chaos.

As the mayor is unable to carry out his duties, I would like to address you all.

Legal proceedings have been initiated.

Join me, Anna Richardson, and journalist Leo Sheikh for The Mystic and the Mayor as we investigate a story of power, corruption and magic.

Binge all episodes of The Mystic and the Mare exclusively and ad-free right now on Wondry Plus.

Start your free trial in Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or the Wondry app.

So spooky tale number three, Rick and Katie's.

The final installment of Allison is procrastinating doing any work by writing this incredibly long email is an explanation of a strange encounter that my friends Rick and Katie had.

I checked with them.

You can use their names too.

Rick and Katie's story is the final of the evening and technically happened on Sunday morning, around 3 a.m.

Obviously.

Spooky.

So after the wedding reception ended at about 11 p.m., we moved this party to a bar down the street to keep the fun going.

You gotta,

you gotta.

Now, by the time this after party was over, I would not have noticed if a ghost punched me square in the face, but Rick and Katie are somewhat more responsible, though still pretty toasted.

Once we all had closed down the bar and walked back to the GW Hotel, Rick and Katie realized that they were in fact not staying at the GW Hotel and needed

to call an Uber to get back to their own.

They said, oh, they said, oop, we don't stay here.

Maybe responsible actually isn't the word to describe them.

Anyway, while waiting, they hung out in the lobby admiring the grand piano and checking for their ride.

During this time, they caught the eyes of the front desk employee.

This odd sir lures them into a conversation by telling tales of the grand piano playing itself and Little Boy Blue, the boy prominently, featured prominently in a larger-than-life painting on the stairs, who haunts the halls.

Little Boy Blue would fuck me right up.

Yeah, when I was reading this earlier, I was thinking we should cover this.

Yeah.

Whichever Grand Washington, or Grand Washington, George Washington it is.

Let's go.

So let's see.

I know.

There it is.

He then asks them if they've been downstairs to the speakeasy yet.

They replied that no, they haven't.

It's not a functional speakeasy.

It's now a room that you can rent out and we did not rent it.

So he says, well, would you like to?

And they were like, no, sir.

It's 3 a.m.

We would like to leave this place.

But next thing you know, creepy concierge has them in an elevator pressing the button to take them down to the basement before turning and abandoning them to fend for themselves.

That's the best concierge in my opinion.

Here you go.

When the elevator door opened, all they saw was a basement lit up with red lighting.

To hear them tell it, they had bad vibes, but were literally too drunk to take in in any actual information.

They slammed on that button to take them back up and ran past creepy concierge to spend the rest of the time waiting outside.

Well, that's it.

Those are my spooky tales.

No, not the most exciting, but they're mine.

And I had a blast sharing them with you.

I thought they were great.

As promised, here's the correct, a correct address for my spooky hotel.

Oh, perfect.

Thank you.

Give it to us.

And more importantly, George Washington, the dog.

I love him.

He's also wearing a hat.

He should.

And I love him so much.

He should.

I literally love him.

Oh, my God.

Also, your wedding was gorgeous.

I didn't even see these pictures when I was looking.

Oh, my God.

And you are gorgeous.

I want to see.

And

there's an actual overflowing cookie table.

Wait, what?

It's overflowing.

Let me see if.

Oh, my God.

And you're a baby.

Wait, I'm screaming.

Babies, dogs, wedding dresses, cookie tables.

Hold on.

This is just too much for me.

Hold on.

Oh, my God.

Wow.

Your dress was stunning.

Stunning, Jonathan.

Oh, I love the sleeves.

Gorgeous.

One of my biggest regrets is that I didn't wear a wedding dress with sleeves because I love them.

It's

a sleeve as well.

I know.

And neither did you.

No.

Well, your wedding was in June.

Yeah.

That's the thing.

When I was in fucking November, I should have.

Yeah, you literally had the excuse.

Yeah.

But you look fucking amazing at your wedding.

Thank you.

Others disagree.

But who gives a fuck?

Yeah, not me.

Oh, my God.

You're baby.

Oh, my God, you're baby.

All right.

What's up?

Alison, those were great stories, and I love it.

Yeah, that was wonderful.

And now we're going to look into the George Washington Hotel for a spoopy tale.

Yeah, we are.

Yeah.

All right.

Next is Listener Tale, the pissed off ghost bride who nearly derailed my best friend's wedding.

Damn.

All right.

Let's go.

It says, hey, weirdos.

Yes, you can use it.

And Ash's angry oath.

Yes, you can use it.

In Ash's angry whisper, so you don't have to wonder.

My name is Kristen.

I couldn't remember if you liked 12-point font or 14, so I compromised and I made it lucky number 13.

Oh, I like that.

In a world where I say I don't like people while driving too many times to count, I love you guys.

I love you.

I love you.

I live in Houston, which has to rank somewhere close behind Boston in terms of rage-inducing traffic.

And hearing your voices makes my drive so much better.

One last thing before I get started.

Congrats on the nuptials, Tash and Drew.

Thanks.

I wore this.

I hope you had a smooth and beautiful day as you celebrate your love and life together.

I hope it was beautiful and just what you imagined it to be, but I also hope that I loved this.

I also hope that it was not the best day of your life.

I hope that life gets sweeter and more wonderful each day that you have together, especially as you plan your growing family.

Whatever that includes, paws, toes, and everything in between.

And I can't wait to hear every, maybe not every detail.

Thank you.

That was really sweet.

That was really sweet.

And I think that's so, like, such a good point to make.

Like, your wedding day is an amazing, awesome day, but it shouldn't be the best day of your life.

It shouldn't be the best day of your life.

And there's so much pressure for it to be the best day of your life.

It's not going to be the best day of your life.

No.

But it's going to be a pretty fucking cool day.

It's the beginning of the best days in your life.

This is the beginning.

What is that from the beginning this is

thinking oh it's rupaul thank you okay i was like i don't know thank you fellow game

thank you fellow gay

and elena you're badass when i think of the dream life i want for myself you beat me to it

That's really

really nice.

I was like, really, really sweet.

I know.

You started off this email really nice.

I do really like my life, so that's really nice.

I think I like this little laugh.

I'm going to call Drew and say that later.

Any horse.

Any whores.

My listener tale just happens to be about a pissed-off ghost who nearly derailed my high school best friend's wedding.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Galveston Island is made up of essentially 5% living people and 95% ghosties.

Wherever you're at, there's probably the story of a haunting, whether it's the local Walmart, which actually has a super tragic story, or a random Airbnb.

Everything, and I mean everything in Galveston is haunted.

It's just a matter of degree.

The Galvez Hotel is one of the off-the-charts haunted locations.

Oh, shit.

And we got got a list to go.

You guys are just giving us content ideas.

There are multiple entities that call the Galvez home.

A nun and at least one child, potentially named Sarah, whose name my mom learned in a Ouija board session.

An unknown malevolent male entity who I had the misfortune of running into on a separate occasion.

And a haunting painting that watches you.

And Audra, the forlorn bride of room 501.

For some reason, Audra.

Audra's a beautiful name.

It's a gorgeous name.

I actually just mentally added it to my baby name.

Like, that's a cute name.

Audra.

And it's just like, and an angry bride named Audra.

Or a sad bride named Audra.

It just makes sense.

I'll text Drew later and I'll be like, what do you think of this name?

And he'll go, I don't hate it.

I don't hate it.

That's Drew's favorite thing to say to names.

I don't hate it.

John's favorite thing was to, if he really didn't like it, he'd just go, oh, I was like, well, that's that.

Well, I guess we won't be naming our child up.

While I obviously have multiple stories about this hotel, our story today centers around Audra.

Audrey Audra, as the legend goes, was set to marry a seaman.

Insert seventh grade boy style snicker here.

I like how you said seaman.

Really, seaman.

She was set to marry him sometime in the 1950s.

She sat up in the bridal suite, room 501, at that time, and awaited for the arrival of her soon-to-be husband from his time at sea, being a seaman.

Being a seaman.

Unfortunately, a storm hit the ship and he was assumed to be lost.

Oh, no.

In an act of despair, she hanged herself from one of the four towers on the roof of the hotel, only for her fiancé to ultimately return from the doomed adventure.

I knew it.

Tragically, they were never to be reunited in this life or the next.

Whoa.

In this despair, she continues to roam the halls, endlessly searching for her lost love.

And many who stay in the room or even simply on the fifth floor have claimed to have encountered her.

Poor Audra.

It's said that you'll know she's near by the powerful floral scent that accompanies her.

Oh, that would give me a headache.

I bet she smells good, though.

So, jumping to present day, my childhood best friend got married to a wonderful man.

A semen, a seaman, perhaps, in September of 2022 at the Galvez.

Congrats, which is actually hilarious because she hates the paranormal and was with me in sixth grade during my ghost tour birthday party.

So, she knew full well what was she what she was getting into.

Sixth grade ghost tour birthday party?

She will

She just left me to handle that on my own?

Well,

I guess I'm gonna need this.

What the fuck does this thing happen?

Hello?

Nicholas, just like shut up.

Nicholas, she said she will bite you.

Where?

I will be.

Where

is she hiding?

Why don't I have my own gun?

Nicholas, tell me where she is.

is.

I'm obsessed.

I don't like it.

I'll protect us.

Do you know how to use this thing?

I'm just gonna hide under my veil.

Oh my god.

Oh no, Nicholas, tell us more of a baby.

Tell us lies.

Tell me more.

Tell me more.

Tell me lies.

Tell me sweet little lies.

Tell me she won't bite me, please.

Hello?

Hello?

I'm literally in pain now.

Me too, mentally.

All right, so anyway, back to this wedding.

Oh my god.

Fuck.

My husband and I arrived on the island just in time for the rehearsal the night before the wedding.

So we had to wait to check in until after dinner.

We got back to the hotel around 8 p.m.

After getting settled, I decided to take him up to the fifth floor for shits and giggles.

Loving most things paranormal, I was hoping to encounter Audra because that's just the kind of fucking crazy I am.

Do you ever just add a fucking when they didn't write it?

Hell yeah.

Okay, cool.

Absolutely.

Luckily for us, it just so happened that while we were there, the fifth floor was being renovated, so no one was staying on that floor, and no one was there to witness me geeking out about ghosts.

But hello to stirring up the ghosties.

Hell yeah, because renovations.

Renovations.

I was half expecting the elevator to either skip the floor entirely or simply not open as it occasionally does, but Audra let us up without issue.

It was more eerie than normal, simply due to the fact that there were no other living souls on the floor.

We got off the elevator and began walking in the direction of her room.

All felt normal until we rounded the corner.

The hotel makes a giant U.

When after a few feet, it was as though I walked through a sheet of ice, completely bone-chilling.

No, not a normal cold.

This was such a deep cold that it seemed as though it touched your soul.

But it wasn't just the temperature drop.

I could feel a hand on my arm.

No pressure, no weight, but cold in the outline of a hand on my

arm.

I was walking in front of my husband and somehow managed to say nothing in regard to either the wall of ice or the hand on my arm.

I didn't react at all because I wanted to see if he would sense it without any influence from me.

Smart.

Yeah, really smart.

Sure enough, when he crossed the ice threshold, he let out a, whoa,

whoa, whoa.

And he...

Joey Lawrence.

Yeah, Joey Lawrence.

And he said he heard what sounded like someone someone attempting to flick his ear.

Oh, I hate that.

That reminds me of when we were on the ship,

the USS Salem, and something blew in my ear.

Yeah, and she, I've never seen Elena like jump up so quickly, like genuinely terrified.

It was so jarring.

Yeah, it was a lot.

Yeah.

So he immediately backtracked to the crook of the hallway on the other side of the quote-unquote cold.

I, however, kept walking.

I hadn't yet reached 501.

I walked the rest of the way there with my chilly escort, paid my respects, and off to the hotel bar we went.

I had naively assumed that our encounter with Aldra was over.

As the festivities wore on, I overheard the bride's mom mention that there was a lot to do to set up that night before the wedding, the following day, and the time was quickly approaching 10 p.m.

I offered to stay and set up and headed to the ballroom.

while we were there the mother of the bride disappeared so i asked where she went not to be petty just out of sheer curiosity not to be petty like where's where's your mom where'd your mom go your mom just leave your mom doesn't want to decorate her she just doesn't want to be here oh she's better than that

But no, just out of sheer curiosity and needing to know where stuff goes.

Yeah.

Someone replied that she had, she, the mother of the bride, had taken the bride to room 501.

I was a little pissed because she knew how much I loved the paranormal, not gonna lie.

What the fuck?

Like, why would they not take me?

It was actually part of my roast into the intro at the reception that I was the spooky friend.

But I put my big girl panties on.

I tried not to take it personally and just continued with the setup.

I love you.

A few minutes later, the power completely went out.

And I don't mean just in the ballroom or even the hotel.

The entire island lost power.

So there we were in the near pitch darkness trying to set up in a wedding in a hotel that we all knew to be haunted.

In the pitch black.

Hello?

Not too long after, the bride and the mother of the bride made their way back down and they tell us what happened.

Insert facepalm here.

After getting to the room,

the mother of the bride yelled out to Audra, she,

she, pointing to the bride, is marrying a seaman in the morning.

What are you gonna do about it?

What the fuck?

Insert double facepalm here.

Well, yes, the bride was marrying, was really marrying a ship captain.

Holy shit.

And yes, her mom challenged the ghost of a seaman's bride.

Was she Zach Bagans?

And yes,

and yes, the entire island lost power at that exact moment.

Yeah, you don't piss Audra.

No, that's rude.

So we do our best to finish setting up this highly elaborate wedding, in the dark.

Everyone, including the mother of the bride, make note of that for later, has their phone's flashlight on to try to illuminate the massive black hole of the venue.

Eventually, we call it a night and begin wrapping up, and I head upstairs to get a few hours of sleep.

Unbeknownst to me, the mother of the bride just couldn't find her phone.

After a massive search, no one can find it.

Not the hotel staff?

No one.

The mother of the bride didn't just lose her phone, but lost her lifeline to wedding contractors, to-do lists, and other countless pieces of wedding info.

Oh, shit.

Of course, she would be able to get most of that back later via the cloud, but not in time for the wedding.

Oh, no.

That's why you don't piss off a bride.

Yeah, not Audra.

Especially not a dead one.

In the morning, the concierge was finally able to locate the phone.

It had spent the entire night in a bucket of water at the closed bar after having been seen in the ballroom post-blackout.

Now, it definitely could have been the evil stepmother who had done other petty things at the wedding, or maybe could it have been that Audra was just super pissed?

I mean, she did say, what are you going to do about it?

And Audra said, oh, watch me, bitch.

Wait a second.

She said,

hold up, hold my phone.

She said, hold my ectoplasm.

She sure did.

That's what she said.

Before I went back to my room, though, before the shenanigans, I grabbed a white rose from a wedding day, from a wedding display, whoopsie, and left it at the door of 501 to atone for any of our group's offense.

Oh, that was nice of you.

That was really nice of you.

You said, I will not be involved in this.

You said, not me, sister.

No, could never be me.

You said, I respect you, Audra.

So, to sum it up, keep it weird, but not so weird that if you find yourself in a wedding venue occupied by the spirit of a forlorn bride, maybe don't disrespect her.

You could find yourself in near total darkness or experience your phone getting yeeted into a bucket of water.

Kay, thanks.

But wait, there's more.

Oh, actually, there's not.

Kay, thanks.

Kay, thanks.

Wow.

That was a good one.

That was a really good one.

That was scary as hell.

It really was.

Audra.

I think it was definitely Audrey.

Because I don't think you go in there and say, she's marrying a semen.

What are you going to do about it?

Because Audra's like, I'm going to do this.

She said, oh, me, I'll just take away your lifeline to plan the rest of this one.

Me, I'll ruin your life.

How about that?

That's what Audra does.

How about that?

Yeah, I'm really inspired to name a kid Aldra now.

I like that a lot.

All right, let's see.

Let's do Listener Tales sleep paralysis trio of nope.

Let us.

Yeah, let's do that.

All right, it says, let's see.

I might have to make this a little bigger.

We're blind because we're blind.

First off, I am okay if you use my name, Kevin.

Kevin.

Hi, Kevin.

Hi, Kevin.

I haven't told many people about this, but when I do, everyone is terrified or enthralled.

It's like a shitty party trick that I wish I didn't have.

Also, I just want to say you guys are amazing.

Thank you.

My wife found your podcast at the beginning of the pandemic and it has really helped to get us through being cooped up at home.

We regularly talk about what episodes we listen to during our workdays and the listener tales have become a staple in all of our road trips.

Hell yeah.

I love that.

I love when people say that.

I do too.

Anyways, I continually have sleep paralysis and as mentioned in the previous sleep paralysis episode, it is regularly triggered when I am incredibly stressed.

I have three figures that regularly appear and I wanted to share a brief story on the first time I saw each of the figures who, as a group, I have affectionately named the trio of nope.

I think that's perfect.

Yeah, that's great.

All right, I love this.

The first one's name is Grimmy.

Grimmy!

To help cope with the debilitating fear you get from these things, I try to have fine humor in it all.

Hence the names.

The first time I had sleep paralysis, I woke up staring at the ceiling, unable to move.

At the time, I had no idea what sleep paralysis was.

I just knew I could not move, and I was wondering if you could paralyze yourself yourself from sleeping.

I don't know, man.

I was just tired and cold.

Then I realized something didn't feel right.

Everything actually felt colder than normal.

We live in Monterey, California, where in the summers it is still 60 degrees out.

So yeah, cold is normal, but this was some Arctic cold.

I felt a deep, deep sense of dread.

I was not safe.

And if I wasn't safe, my wife wasn't safe.

And if she wasn't safe, I was going to beat the bejesus out of whoever the fuck decided to show up.

And that's all you have been shit.

Lack of moving be damned.

If there is a will, there is a way.

Spoilers, sleep paralysis means there is a will, but there is not a way.

I simply cannot.

I looked around and saw in a far corner complete darkness.

Darkness that was 10 times more dark than anything else around me.

My immediate thought was, well, poop on a stick.

Looks like my dumbass isn't going to be able to ward off whatever is in the black pit of nope over there.

Slowly, a figure in black, worn robes filled with holes, glided out of the darkness.

He stood there with a hood staring right at me.

His head touched the ceiling.

Noor.

It makes me think of him.

It follows the tall guy.

Something

about that?

No.

Really, the best way to describe how he looks is you, this is literally what I just pictured.

You know the Muppets Christmas Carol movie?

He looks like the ghost of Christmas Future, just more black and more holes in his clothes.

I'm not kidding you.

That's exactly what I pictured.

That's terrifying.

That's exactly because he's huge.

Yeah, no, he's massive.

Yeah.

Which, by the way, was way too scary for children or Muppets movie in general.

Yeah.

Also, the one of Christmas Past,

the child.

Please tell.

When we first watched this with my kids,

one of them, they were trying to figure out like what this was all about.

So like when the front, the ghost of Christmas Past, which is just like a Victorian child with a very small Victorian child voice that was on.

They were like, so that's just like, they're ghosts?

And I was like, yeah.

And they were like, so they're like dead?

And I was like, yeah.

And then she goes, so that's just a dead kid?

And I was like,

yeah.

I was like, Merry Christmas.

Are you feeling Merry and Brett?

I was like, yeah, I watched this when I was little and I didn't.

didn't connect those i watched it in school but yeah that's just a dead kid leading him through his life choices, I guess.

Just like that.

Yeah, she was just kind of like, I was just a dead kid following him.

And I was like, the fuck?

She was like, all right, just got to confirm that.

Yeah.

Do what you got to do, man.

But I agree with you.

Very scary.

Let's see.

So, but I digress.

I felt like nothing but death was coming.

I knew it.

This was not good.

And I'm legitimately going to die.

He stood there waiting for a few minutes, then began to move towards my side of the bed.

Closer and closer.

Then colder and colder it got.

Eventually, he was next to me, staring down.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to shake my wife awake and tell her, get the fuck out of the apartment.

The feeling of helplessness and dread was so powerful, I didn't know what to do with it.

Eventually, he floated onto my chest and would breathe freezing cold air on me.

I couldn't breathe.

He felt like he weighed a ton and he was just staring at me, doing nothing at all.

I mean, bro, I have asthma.

If you're trying to suffocate me, standing on my shit lungs and changing the temperature instantly combined with the fact that I cannot move to get my inhaler is 100% the way to do it.

And everyone would be none the wiser.

I tried to shake him off.

I kept trying to scream.

I kept trying to freaking cry.

And then I wake up.

freezing and feeling like I just went through the biggest fight of my life.

God damn it, Grimmy, you sick son of a bitch.

Fucking Grimmy.

Fucking Grimmy.

It's true though, sleep paralysis.

We say it all the time when we mention it, but it's no fucking joke.

If you've never dealt with it.

You can't conceive of it.

I also can't imagine dealing with it.

Like people deal with it regularly.

Yeah.

I can't imagine that.

I've only had it like twice.

I get it if I'm really stressed.

Like I got it, I think like a week and a half ago.

Checks.

And I woke up and I was literally shivering.

I was so cold.

Like to the point where I was like.

Am I like sick or is something wrong?

Which like leads you to believe that it is paranormal.

Yeah, because I was literally like one of those like like you can't like shivering and john's like laying next to me like with the blankets half off and i'm like

and i didn't have like a fever or anything it just went away no i do feel like there is a paranormal aspect to it for sure has to be all right the next one is karen karen

the way this starts karen is a bitch

literally when it says karen is a bitch specifically a little bitch i can even pinpoint when Karen started appearing.

It was weeks after I watched the movie Ghost Stories with Martin Freeman.

If you haven't seen the movie, regardless of my experience, I would recommend it.

It is a trip.

I have not seen it.

My side of the bed is near a corner of the bedroom.

When I turn towards the wall, there is about four feet from me to the wall.

Can I just say that this really upset me?

Because same.

Oh,

like exact same.

Oh.

Yeah.

One wonderfully...

Oh.

Me too, actually.

Yeah.

I was like, for a second, I was like trying to think.

I was like, can I get her back?

Yeah, I can.

I literally was like,

I was like, wait.

I'm like, no reverse.

Yeah, that's not great.

One wonderfully shitty night, I woke up realizing that I was having another episode.

Grimmy, presumably, would be appearing from the black pit of nope at the far corner of the room.

And I will try not to shit my pants again.

No promises.

It never gets easier.

To my wonderful surprise, no Grimmy.

But that feeling of dread was still around.

That's when I noticed Karen in all her glory.

That little bitch.

That little bitch.

A little girl no older than nine stood in the corner closest to me.

She wears an old dirty blue dress that looks like she was buried in it.

That's so bitch-made.

That's such a bitch move.

Yeah, that's trick shit.

Fuck you showing up in your burial shroud, bitch.

Her black hair is in pigtails and her head stays down.

Nor.

Get out of here.

No.

Go talk to the manager, okay?

Look, I've watched enough horror movies to know the old people ghosts are bad.

Little girl ghosts are the worst.

Yup.

So right off the bat, I thought, nope, Grimmy, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings.

Take me back.

But all I could do was sit there and look straight up, trying to ignore her.

Kids just want attention, and if I don't give her the time of day, she won't bother me.

Fair.

Not the case.

Once again, she just appears at my side of the bed.

Then I see an old, veiny hand with a green hue to it and long chipped, dirty yellow nails come up along the side of my face.

No.

No to all angles.

No.

So he jumped from the nope train to the nope bullet train.

The pointer finger was directed at me and it slowly crept down towards my temple.

I could sense it getting closer and I could feel that choked up feeling in your throat when you're about to cry.

I didn't have the feeling like I was going to cry.

I had the feeling like I was going to scream an ugly cry, like Jennifer Lawrence eat your heart out kind of cry.

Incredible.

I could tell it was getting closer and closer to my head.

And then I wake up and my head is screaming in pain.

I woke up like that this morning.

Me too.

Yeah, we all did.

Not a fan of that little girl.

Hence, Karen.

Fuck you, Karen.

Next is the bride.

The bride suck.

I have only seen the bride three times, hence no name, open to suggestions.

I just like the bride.

The bride is scary.

And the first time was at a hotel while I was on a work trip.

When she appears, it's either a semi-sleep paralysis and dream mix, or it's just straight-up sleep paralysis.

Sometimes I can move, sometimes not.

The first occurrence was a nice mix.

I was staying at a double tree for work and had a room with two.

It had a room with two beds thanks to my lazy ass booking the room at the last minute.

Oh well, expensive works exist for a reason.

Before going to bed, I could not shake an uncomfortable feeling that I really could not get to the bottom of.

I tried to convince myself it was just stress from work because holy hell, there was a ton of that.

Am I right?

Yes.

And eventually fell asleep.

I woke up and and realized I was having a sleep paralysis episode.

Let's go through the squad.

Grimmy, the far corners were not that dark, so nope.

Shit.

Karen.

I have to deal with Karen again.

That bitch.

That's when I looked to the right and saw player number three.

The empty bed was on my right, and I could see a woman in a dirty wedding dress floating just above the bed with her back to me.

Ew.

Slowly she started to turn her head and I could see through the veil that her jet black hair was ratty and matted to the side of her face.

Her Her skin was pale white with tiny blue veins clearly visible throughout.

Her eyes were black and her mouth was grotesquely.

You were about to say, you literally said her mouth was grotesque and he said, disgusting.

I love

getting into it now.

Like he reminds me of, you're not going to get this, but it reminded me of Lisa Barlow from Salt Lake City going, disgusting.

Disgusting.

He's part of this.

He's like really feeling comfortable now.

He's like, I know what you need for me.

You need commentary.

I just love grotesque.

Disgusting.

I love it.

I love that Nicholas is officially like gross.

Disgusting.

Oh my God, Nicholas, you're hired.

Where do we give your cuts?

That's 10.99.

Why are you so funny?

Can you fill out a W-9?

Let us know where you live, honey.

Oh, my God.

Damn.

Oh, shit.

Thank you, Nicholas.

You're correct.

Disgusting.

Because

her mouth was

grotesquely

large.

And in an ear-to-ear grin.

That is disgusting.

Will I recover?

Never.

Immediately, I was understandably terrified.

Disgusted.

I hadn't ever seen her.

And I was initially, as I said before, ready for Grimmy or Karen to appear.

Not this.

So cool.

There's a fucking party, I guess.

Slowly, the bride lowered herself under the bed, almost as if she was bowing, never losing eye contact with me.

Then she floated over the empty bed across the gap between our beds and on top of me.

That's presumptuous.

That's presumptuous.

You are away from your wife on a work trip.

And I'm a brat.

The dress moved like it was underwater, floating around her.

That's kind of beautiful.

That's not disgusting.

That's not disgusting.

And everything felt freezing cold.

Slowly, her hands reached out onto the covers and she started to climb her way up to my face.

Once she was a few inches away from my face, that horrible grin widened into a smile and her teeth looked jagged, sharp, and far too large to be human.

Ew!

She didn't speak.

She didn't breathe.

She didn't laugh.

She was completely silent and cold.

Her black eyes stared directly into mine like she knew she was going to do something to me and me not knowing what it was brought her even more delight.

Can you hear the sound of my blinks?

The sound of silence.

Ew.

That's when the sleep paralysis changed.

I finally could move my arms.

My only thought was to shove her off and try to fight back.

She said, I am a married man.

You said, this is not that kind of work trip.

When I pushed her back, she floated backwards.

I tried to reach out and get her, but she floated just out of my reach.

I couldn't sit up, so I just stared at her, terrified.

She just looked back, still knowing something I didn't.

Then I woke up.

I have had moments when I wake up and she is standing in the corner of our bedroom.

Another time she was just at the end of our bed.

On both occasions, I could not move at all.

She just stands there with that huge grin on her face, staring into my eyes.

She's never gotten that close to my face again, and I am incredibly thankful for that.

Sorry for the length, and thanks for making such an epic podcast.

Don't be sorry, and thank you.

Wait, do you hear that sound noise?

What the fuck was that?

It just stopped.

This is not for the bit.

Well, the show must go on.

What the fuck was that, everybody?

Keep it weird, but not so weird that you have three figures that appear in your sleep and they are more and more terrifying that you actually hope and pray that you see a Grim Reaper-like figure because all the other ones scare you more than him.

Thanks, Kevin.

Thanks, Kevin.

Thanks, Kevin.

What the fuck you just brought into this room, Kevin.

What have you rocked, Kevin?

We're going to read this sweet one last.

So this one is, Listener Tales, how your podcast and a friendly ghost caused a wedding.

Aw.

Yay.

Okay, so.

Hi ladies, you know the spiel.

You guys are the shit and your banter makes me laugh until I cry.

And from a fellow mass hole when the mass slips out, especially you, Elena, my fiancée and I will quote it for days.

Speaking of my fiancé, as the title of this tale tells, it's thanks to your podcast and a friendly ghost that we are getting married on January 27th, 2025.

I love that!

Retroactive.

Congratulations.

Hell yeah!

Yay!

That's really cool.

Yeah!

How you say?

Well, hold on to your tits.

Sorry, I'm a boobs gal, and I shall explain.

My name is Steph, and yes, you can use my name.

Steph.

I am actually from Maine, but moved into Mass roughly five years ago for work.

I'm a research scientist.

And the only research we have up in Maine is in Bajaba.

Bajaba!

Yes.

Yes, we do pronounce it like that.

Who needs ours anyway?

Not me.

But I digress.

I moved into Mass, and I started my big girl job after graduating college and ended up in Wusta.

Wusta.

Working in an old as shit building that is falling apart at the seams.

I love that.

Side note, there have definitely been people who died in this building.

And as a whole, this building is haunted as fuck.

I'm moving on.

Fast forward to me

being almost at my job for a year.

And the new girl gets hired.

Megan.

Yes, you can use her name.

Megan gets introduced to all of us.

And when I tell you, this girl wanted to throw herself off the fifth floor that we were all on instead of being introduced to us as a group, that's a massive understatement.

She had a fake smile plastered to her face.

She wore two hoodies that were way too big for her, and had her hair, which was dyed bright orange, half in her face.

Throw back to those skater girls in high school who spoke to very few people but were stupid cute, listened to Paramore and Green Day all day, and hated roughly 92% of society.

Honestly, same.

A few months had passed, and besides a couple of good mornings, or have a good weekend, Megan and I hadn't interacted much at all.

So the day I look up and see her standing at my desk looking like a scared puppy, let's just say my interest was piqued.

I gave her a super suave, sup, Megan.

And as she proceeds to word vomit at me, and I quote, um, hi, um, I heard that you really like the Wizard of Oz, and I'm not sure if you're a podcast girl, but if you are, I listen to these two girls who are also from Mass and who talk about murder, and I love them.

But, um, they also came out with a podcast about The Wizard of Oz today.

And did you know that the witch almost died?

And it's called Morbid and I thought you might be interested.

Okay, bye.

Oh my God, I love this so much.

This was all said in one single breath and spoken in roughly 15 seconds.

And then I watched her speedwalk back to her office.

And I sat at my desk and eventually burst out into laughter.

Now, I should say, The Wizard of Oz is my favorite movie.

And FYI, Elena, I'm a scarecrow gal.

Oh, all right.

I understand.

I get it.

I get it.

I even have a half-sleeve tattoo where on one one side is the witch and her castle and flying monkeys and the other half is the scarecrow at his field.

That sounds sick as fuck.

That's badass.

I don't think you included a picture.

Please send us one.

And also, it's cool because we don't have to fight over our 30 goats.

You could double date.

Yeah.

Another fun fact.

I'm partially colorblind and I can't see yellow, but does my tiny 5-2-ass still sing Follow the Yellow Brick Road at the top of my lungs every time I watch it?

You bet your sweet awes I do.

So I get up from my desk and I walk into her office.

She looks mortified that she had just word vomited all over the place, but I walked up to her with a big smile and I said, hey, what was that podcast called again?

Oh my god, it sounds right up my alley.

I love this.

Now between you and me and you know, the possibly thousands of people who might potentially hear this, this smile that broke across her face was absolutely stunning.

As I began listening to your podcast, she would find me in the mornings and ask me about what episode I was on, and she would happily go to that episode so we could talk about it later.

I started at episode one and I will die on this hill, but underwater, slightly manic Ash and Elena, dipping their toes into the podcast world are some of my favorite episodes.

You're the one.

You're an OG.

We try to bring some of that old, we're trying to bring some of that old manic energy back.

Yeah.

We're like almost happy again, so we're getting there.

Yeah, so we're getting there.

And I re-listened to many to get a hearty chuckle.

We continued listening to old Morbid episodes together, which turned into us hanging outside of work almost every weekend to watch documentaries about the cases or to watch horror movies because I'm a baby bitch when it comes to to horror movies and I needed a needed a lap to jump into with every jump scare scene.

Hell yeah.

Now you might be asking, uh ma'am, where does this friendly ghost come into play?

Well, my delightful weirdos, right now.

One weekend we were cleaning out her parents' house because Megan was moving into it in a couple months once her apartment lease ended.

We were taking a break and sitting on the floor eating pizza, just shooting the shit, when behind her head, I see movement.

It was only us in the house, and we were surrounded by piles of boxes that were either trash or for donation, so I slowly leaned to the right so that I could see behind her head to where the movement was occurring, the stairs.

And that is when I see a completely see-through older woman in a white flowy dress who quickly, but with elegance I will never possess, made her way up the stairs.

It was probably

no, I'd cry.

It was probably only five seconds that I actually saw her before she was gone.

I'd forgotten that Megan was still talking to me until she quickly made eye contact with me again with the biggest smile on her face and goes, wait, did you see her?

She never shows herself to new people.

I stared at her and I tried to say something, but nothing came out.

Now I went to school for seven years and not to toot my own horn, but beep, beep.

I'm a pretty smart cookie.

I have a degree in neuroscience and two specialties in behavior.

Yeah, toot, toot, Hong Kong, awoga, awooga.

All that to say, the words that eventually left my mouth I can only compare to as a drunk person trying to give directions.

While looking back and forth from Megan to the stairs and back again, I managed to mumble, stairs address.

She flows.

I just

see through.

Nailed it.

Megan proceeds to get giddy as hell, and she explains that there are actually two ghosts in this house, and that the woman frequents heavily on the stairs, but is the friendliest ghost, and was assessing the new person in the house.

My god, I love this.

Apparently, I passed the test.

The second ghost is a man named John, who was the original owner of the house.

John doesn't really ever show himself, but for shits and giggles, will cause something to fall upstairs in what we can only assume was his bedroom.

Honestly, that's very John.

So, that is very John.

That's valid.

So, long story short, a couple months later, Megan asked if I wanted to move into the house with her, as she knew that I was looking for a new place because I hated my apartment.

It was too small, and it gave me so much anxiety that Megan demanded I stay at her apartment every weekend.

So, I moved in.

An incredibly nervous first kiss, introducing our cats, honestly, I should have known then, and a year and a half of dating, and then a proposal where I used our cats to ask her later.

Oh!

And I get to marry my soulmate.

Oh my god!

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, you ladies.

When people ask us how we started dating, we say a ghost and a little murder.

Oh my God.

I love that story so much.

I love you guys.

That was like the perfect one to end on.

Oh my God, that made me so happy.

And congratulations.

I hope you guys are so happy and so beautiful and that all the ghosties attended your wedding.

Oh, I love that.

So, and you know what it was?

I love that you...

Like it beat, it started with you like validating something that she was excited about.

Yeah, because I feel like we've gotten into a place place where like people like make fun of are stupid with people like for them liking or being excited about things.

Like it's always been like it's very like childish.

Yeah.

Like people like tease.

Yeah.

We'll be like, oh, that's weird that you're so obsessed with that thing or it's weird that you're like into that or talk about it all the time.

Like as adults, like I feel like there's this group of adults that just like do that.

Yeah.

And I always think like that is the biggest red flag for me when somebody's like, it's so weird how obsessed this person is with this thing.

I'm like, let them like something.

Yeah, you can like like and it's like the fact she ran over and just like was like i really like this thing and i think you would like it

and it would thus like ran away you could tell she was like she might think that this is like weird and that like i'm being obsessive yeah and it's like i love that you're just like what's that fucking book you're like probably love that hold the phone tell me more yeah like that would be like so that must have been so relieving and like endearing for her in that moment it probably became her safe space literally and i fucking love that be that way let and and be like steph in a world full of valid

be a steph be a Steph.

Validate people's excitement about things.

Don't shit on people or discourage them for liking things.

And everybody will be awesome.

Awesome.

Yeah.

And it's okay if you are obsessed with things and like things and get hyper-fixated on things.

I feel like you should be obsessed with things and like things and get hyper-focused.

And we're on a floating rock in space.

That's the thing.

How fucking long are we here?

Get obsessed with stuff, hyper-fixate, go nuts, be manic, live your life.

And with that, we leave you.

Yeah.

We hope you keep listening.

And we hope you keep it weird.

But not so weird that you don't get hyper-focused on things and fixated and manic.

And not so weird that we don't find out what the fucking fuck that sound is on the other side of the room.

Because it's right over there.

It's right there.

So we're going to go investigate that.

And we love you.

We do.

And we already told you to keep it weird.

So bye.

Bye.

If you like Morbid, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.

Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music.

Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.