Dark Dialogue: Shadow Chat Sessions

Sometimes you need a break from the heavy stuff — and that’s where Shadow Chat Sessions comes in.
In this episode, John and Angela dive headfirst into a chaotic mix of strange headlines, conspiracy nonsense, Reddit rabbit holes, dumb criminal behavior, and truly weird shit that absolutely does not matter… but is way too entertaining to ignore.
You’ll hear the unbelievable true story of a babysitter who checked under a child’s bed for monsters and found a real man hiding there, why some people are convinced King Charles is secretly a vampire, and the deeply unsettling mystery of a stranger who appears in decades of childhood photos without ever aging.
The Dipshit Diaries deliver peak criminal incompetence — including a robber who left his phone number at the crime scene, a nail salon robbery defeated by total indifference, and a car thief who managed to trap himself inside the vehicle he was trying to steal.
Then things get even stranger with man-eating spider legends from the Congo, haunted wedding venues built on battlefields, moon unicorns that fooled 19th-century America, a beer-drinking bear who became an enlisted WWII soldier, and the infamous severed-leg-in-a-grill case that somehow ended up on Judge Mathis.
It’s weird. It’s absurd. It’s darkly funny.And for once — none of it actually matters.
That’s the therapy.

Support the Show & Stay Connected
If you enjoy the chaos and want to support what we do:
• Visit DarkDialogue.com to explore all shows on the Dark Dialogue Podcast Network• Support us on Patreon, Ko-fi, or Substack for behind-the-scenes content and updates• Subscribe, follow, rate, and review — it helps more than you think• Send your weird stories, dumb criminals, rabbit holes, or feedback to info@darkdialogue.com
New episodes drop regularly.Laugh responsibly.

Show Notes

Sometimes you need a break from the heavy stuff — and that’s where Shadow Chat Sessions comes in.

In this episode, John and Angela dive headfirst into a chaotic mix of strange headlines, conspiracy nonsense, Reddit rabbit holes, dumb criminal behavior, and truly weird shit that absolutely does not matter… but is way too entertaining to ignore.

You’ll hear the unbelievable true story of a babysitter who checked under a child’s bed for monsters and found a real man hiding there, why some people are convinced King Charles is secretly a vampire, and the deeply unsettling mystery of a stranger who appears in decades of childhood photos without ever aging.

The Dipshit Diaries deliver peak criminal incompetence — including a robber who left his phone number at the crime scene, a nail salon robbery defeated by total indifference, and a car thief who managed to trap himself inside the vehicle he was trying to steal.

Then things get even stranger with man-eating spider legends from the Congo, haunted wedding venues built on battlefields, moon unicorns that fooled 19th-century America, a beer-drinking bear who became an enlisted WWII soldier, and the infamous severed-leg-in-a-grill case that somehow ended up on Judge Mathis.

It’s weird. It’s absurd. It’s darkly funny.
And for once — none of it actually matters.

That’s the therapy.

Support the Show & Stay Connected

If you enjoy the chaos and want to support what we do:

• Visit DarkDialogue.com to explore all shows on the Dark Dialogue Podcast Network
• Support us on Patreon, Ko-fi, or Substack for behind-the-scenes content and updates
• Subscribe, follow, rate, and review — it helps more than you think
• Send your weird stories, dumb criminals, rabbit holes, or feedback to info@darkdialogue.com

New episodes drop regularly.
Laugh responsibly.

★ Support this podcast on Patreon ★

What is Dark Dialogue: Shadow Chat Sessions?

Shadow Chat Sessions is the off-the-record side of the Dark Dialogue network—where weird headlines, conspiracies, paranormal stories, and truly ridiculous criminals collide.

Hosted by John and Angela, each episode dives into strange news, internet rabbit holes, cryptids, hauntings, and the kind of criminal behavior that makes no sense at all—delivered with sarcastic commentary and zero restraint.

From bizarre real-world stories to eerie legends and unexplained mysteries, Shadow Chat Sessions explores the corners of the world that are too strange to ignore.

If you’re here for dark humor, absurdity, and the occasional conspiracy spiral, this is where things go off the rails.

John: Well, hello and welcome to another
episode of Dark Dialog Show Chat Sessions.

I am your host, John.

Angela: Oh, no man's one.

I was already laughing
because I was expecting that.

John: And this is the show where
we just talk about a bunch of

shit that doesn't really matter.

Dumb shit.

Weird shit.

Dip shits, all these shits and like you
always say something about the points

and doesn't matter and all that thing.

And yep, that's the show.

None of it really freaking
matters, but it's fun.

Angela: Love it.

Anyway,

John: it helps us wind down after
we cover the crazy freaking terrible

shit that we have to talk about and
we're able to come and talk about a

bunch of shit that just doesn't really
matter and makes us laugh and have

a good time and lightens the mood.

So I love these episodes and.

We will keep recording them no matter
what because they're just fun to do.

So it's therapy at this point.

It is definitely therapy at this point.

Yep.

And hopefully it is for our listeners too.

Hopefully they get to just relax and
laugh and, you know, make fun of shit too.

What crazy

Angela: nonsense will they come up with?

John: Exactly.

So with that said, do
you want to jump into it?

Sure.

Alright, well, can I take the bear?

Yeah, you can take the bear I
got because I'm not, I don't, I

don't expect you to let him go.

So we'll start with a
strange headline segment.

Babysitter checks for monsters under
the bed finds a real one instead.

Angela: This is why I don't babysit.

John: Yeah.

Mm-hmm.

A Kansas babysitter tried to comfort
a child who insisted a monster was

hiding under the bed only to come
face to face with an actual growing

man who was not supposed to be
in the house legally or morally.

A struggle broke out, A child got
knocked over, and what began as a

bedtime routine turned into a live
action horror movie with court documents.

It started like every classic kid,
bedtime scene pajamas, teeth brushing,

and one stubborn little voice insisting
that a monster was under the bed, the

babysitter doing what babysitters have
done since the invention of bedtime, Ben

down to prove that the room was clear,
except this time the kid wasn't wrong.

According to the Barton County
Sheriff's Office, when the

babysitter lifted the bed skirt.

To show the child there were no monsters.

She instead looked into the eyes of a
27-year-old man who was very much alive,

very much not supposed to be there, and
very much violating a protection from

abuse order Authorities later confirmed
he had once lived in the residence, but

had been explicitly barred from returning.

He had already posted bond 10 days
earlier for charges, including

criminal threat, domestic battery,
and violating a protection order

connected to earlier incidents.

The babysitter understandably panicked.

The man lunged, a chaotic
struggle broke out and one of

the children was knocked over.

The suspect fled before deputies
arrived because apparently hiding

under a bed doesn't make you
fast, it just makes you sneaky.

The next morning, deputies spotted
him in the area after a short foot

pursuit, which absolutely sounds
like it involved him running

barefoot through at least one yard.

He was arrested on a buffet of new
charges, aggravated kidnapping, aggravated

burglary, aggravated battery, child
endangerment, felony obstruction,

violation of a protection order.

He currently sits in jail on a $500,000
bond, proving once again that crime is

expensive, but stupidity is priceless.

His name is not being released by NPR
pending confirmation of formal charges,

but the courts definitely know who he is.

My take.

Kids always think there's
a monster under the bed.

Turns out Kansas said, say less.

This dude is out here auditioning
for paranormal activity.

Nine deadbeat returns.

Hiding under a child's mattress
is like Clarence Ben Crypted.

Imagine being a babysitter, thinking it's
just a shadow or maybe a toy, and instead

you find surprise man who's on a speed run
to collect every felony in the Midwest.

Honestly, at this point, Kansas
should just replace the state motto

with Ad Astra per adrenaline rush.

So

Angela: I feel like I watched this on
a body cam video, so I don't think that

it's all by itself in this category.

John: You watched what
on a body cam video?

I feel

Angela: like I watched a
babysitter check under the bed.

John: Oh no, there's, find
somebody, there's way more of,

of these stories out there.

Yeah, there's, I mean,
this is not the only time.

Angela: I totally think I just watched
a body cam video on this anyway.

Yeah.

John: This is not the
only time it's happened.

No, it's just the most recent, I guess.

So if you check under the bed and
actually find a monster, does that

kid get bragging rights for life?

Yes.

Asking for future therapists?

Angela: 100%.

John: Oh, hell yeah.

And he's probably never ever going
to sleep in his own bed again.

Ever either.

So you owe him a

Angela: pony.

John: Yeah.

A pony is out.

Is that what it is?

Yeah, that's the, that's the growing
rate for, that's the payoff amount.

Angela: Mm-hmm.

John: So what's the plan here?

Step one, hide under the bed.

Step two

step.

Why do you take your shoes off?

You're gonna have to run Step three.

Go to jail.

Yes.

Mm-hmm.

So do we add check for ex-boyfriends under
the bed to the babysitter job description?

Yes.

Or is that above the pay grade?

Angela: Yes.

No, that, I mean, well, it might
be above the pay grade, but yeah,

it should be added, I think.

Now.

John: I mean, could you imagine
us poor freaking babysitter?

You're like, oh, I'll show you.

There's no helmet, dad.

There's somebody under the bed.

Yeah.

I mean, and

Angela: Johnny Depp's
favorite famous line.

There'll be no living with her after this.

Yeah, because she was right.

Yeah.

Or he was right.

There's somebody who was right.

John: Alright, you ready
for the conspiracy corner?

Yeah.

Prince Charles is a vampire.

The royal pain in the neck theory.

Angela: Wonderful.

John: Some conspiracy theorists in
sense, insist that Prince Charles.

Yes.

Now King Charles III
is secretly a vampire.

The theory claims he's
descended from Vladi and palor.

His relatives with sun sensitive medical
conditions, has relatives with sun

sensitive medical conditions and spends
an unusual amount of time in old castles.

None of this proves anything,
but it is exactly the kind of

beautifully unhinged theory that
the internet refuses to let die.

The internet has produced many outlandish
theories, but fewer is persistent,

theatrical, and unintentionally hilarious
as the belief that Prince Charles is an

immortal vampire walking quietly among
us, sipping, sipping tea instead of

blood, and haunting the grounds of Royal
Estates with SPF 10,000 sunscreen, the

idea of first gain traction when Royal
Genealogist noted that Charles's Charles

is distantly related to Vlad the and paler
the 15th century Walian ruler who inspired

Bra Stroker's, fictional count Dracula.

Technically, a lot of people in
in European ancestry can make

that similar geological claim.

Yep.

But conspiracy theorists aren't exactly
sticklers for statistical nuance.

The next proof was a medical connection.

Several royal family members over the
centuries reportedly suffered from

porphyria, a genetic blood disorder
that can trigger photosensitivity.

Some forms of porphyria make, can make
skin blister and sunlight, which to

the internet translates directly to.

Ah, yes, vampire case closed.

Theorists also cite the famously long
lives of certain royals as evidence as

if Charles making it into his seventies
is somehow suspicious, and not just the

byproduct of endless money, unlimited
healthcare chefs preparing every meal

and the stress-free lifestyle of being
followed by paparazzi for six decades.

Mm-hmm.

The theory pops up in tabloids
every few years, usually with

the same recycled points.

Charles avoids the sun sometimes.

He's a vampire.

Charles owns properties in Transylvania.

He's a vampire.

Charles has good posture and pale skin.

He's a vampire.

Charles has lived through
14 prime ministers.

He's eternal vampire princes, obviously.

Of course, there is zero actual evidence
he's undead sleeping in coffins or turning

into a bat to avoid rush hour traffic
in London, but that hasn't stopped.

Conspiracy forums from insisting that
Charles' alleged longevity, castle loving

personality and genetic ties to historical
villains must mean something supernatural.

In reality, Charles has spent years
involved with Transylvanian conservation

projects, which fuels the theory even
more because nothing attracts conspiracy.

People like a historic region
with a vampire brand strong

enough to be a theme park.

My take.

Let's be honest, if Prince Charles
were a vampire, he'd be the most

politely British one imaginable.

Like, pardon me, terribly sorry.

Mm-hmm.

But may I have a small sip of your blood?

Yeah.

Just ate dimples Worth.

Yeah.

Cheers.

Just a taste and the eyes guy
that he's immortal because he is

related to Vlad and Palor buddy,
half of ancestry.com users are too.

If having one cranky medieval warlord
in your family tree makes you a

vampire, then Thanksgiving is about to
get really weird for a lot of people.

Also, porphyria doesn't make you
unde, it make you, it makes you wish.

Hats were wider, but hey, if Charles
is secretly a vampire, honestly,

that would explain the ears.

Angela: You have gone and figured me out.

John: Which part?

Angela: If I had access to a
castle, that's where I would be.

John: Yeah.

Angela: I have villains in my
ancestry and I have porphyria.

A hundred percent.

I must be a vampire.

John: Well, you are a vampire.

Duh.

Angela: Well, I didn't
know that until just now.

John: Duh.

You're the unde.

Fine.

So if Charles is a vampire, does that
make Buckingham Palace the world's

most aggressively carpeted crypt?

Angela: I think so.

I

John: think so.

And

Angela: I would like to tour it someday.

John: Yeah.

I would like a tour two.

Don't see that in my future though.

Could the royal family end,
especially after this episode

airs could the royal fa,

Angela: let's go before we air it.

John: Oh, we gotta quick,
we gotta go quick then.

Angela: Yeah.

John: Could the royal fa, maybe the
Royals will have us for Thanksgiving.

Oh.

Angela: Then I wouldn't have to cook.

Yes, there you go.

But I am not all about blood pudding.

Oh no.

That's also part of vampire.

John: Yeah.

Yes, that's true.

Angela: Son of a bitch.

John: Could the royal family end
half their scandals by saying, relax?

He's nocturnal.

Exactly right.

It's just a vampire scandal done.

If the king turned into a bat and flew
and flew away during a press conference,

would BBC call it breaking news?

Or just Tuesday at the palace?

Angela: Tuesday at the Palace.

It's always a Tuesday.

I agree.

It's always a Tuesday.

But does that also explain why the
guards can stand so still and are just

John: that they're vam

Angela: party?

Yeah.

John: I don't think so.

Angela: Really?

John: I don't think it

Angela: burst my bubble.

How rude.

Okay.

John: It's not just their
cards harder do the same thing.

Yeah, but they just, they
just don't dress like that.

Angela: Theirs are better
at not moving than ours are.

I don't, they're not.

I don't know that ours has the.

John: Ever seen the guard at
the tomb of the unknown soldier,

Angela: I guess.

Yeah.

John: Yeah.

Angela: But I feel like
we've seen him pace.

John: Yeah, and they do, but so do the
beef eaters or whatever they're called.

That's what they're called, right?

I don't know.

Yeah.

I'm pretty positive that's
what they're called.

Okay.

It's in the big tall black hats.

Yeah.

Beef feeders.

I'm pretty sure that's
what they're called.

Alright.

You ready for the red rabbit hole?

Sure thing.

The man who appears in all my childhood
childhood photos, but no one knows him.

Angela: Why do I feel
like I'm gonna know this?

John: The Red Editor discovered
an old family album who

noticed something chilling.

The same unknown man appearing in
the background of photos, spanning

more than a decade across multiple
states, holidays, and family events.

Neither the poster nor any
family member recognized him.

The thread exploded into a massive
rabbit hole of theories from stalker

to forgotten family Friend to glitch in
the matrix to Time Traveler, this rabbit

hole began innocently, A redditer found a
dusty box of childhood photo albums while

helping their parents clean out a garage.

Like many people in their twenties
or thirties, they flipped through

old birthday photos, school events,
beach trips, barbecues, nostalgia,

harmless stuff, all the memories.

Then they noticed him, a man
standing behind the family.

At a 4th of July picnic, a man three rows
back at a school play, a man walking a

dog behind them at Disney World, a man
sitting on a bench in a winter vacation

photo, staring directly at the camera.

The same man, the same face, the
same age range, the same neutral

expression, never interacting with
anyone, never close, but always there.

The poster confronted their family
expecting someone to say, oh yeah,

that's Uncle Todd before the divorce,
or, that's one of dad's coworkers.

Instead, every answer was, I've never
seen that man before in my life.

The thread on our unsolved mysteries
spiraled into thousands of comments.

People analyzed each
photo, the user uploaded.

The man's clothes changed,
but his age didn't.

His positioning was always
background but visible.

Some users thought the photo
looked like he was intentionally

framed as if he stepped into
you at the exact right moment.

Someone even used facial recognition
tools and found no match, which

somehow made the thread even creepier.

The user insisted that the
photos were taken in different

states far apart from each other.

Kansas, Colorado, Missouri, Texas.

No overlapping events,
no shared acquaintances.

The theories got wild, but the
realistic ones rose to the top

one along a long-term stalker.

Some believe the man may have been
following the family for reasons unknown,

but doing so inconspicuously enough
that no one noticed him in real time.

Creepy but plausible.

A forgotten friend of the parents.

Maybe someone who attended events
lingered in crowds or joined road trips.

Memory is unreliable after all.

Three.

A neighbor or a church member who kept
showing up the coincidental background.

Character theory.

Four.

A time traveler dimensional slip entity.

Because Reddit cannot resist
a supernatural solution when

a practical one is plausible.

Five.

The liminal man theory.

A small but vocal subset believed
the man represents a background.

NPC, A filler person who appears
in multiple unrelated memories due

to some flaw in the simulation.

What made the thread
iconic was the update.

The user scan more boxes of photos, and
the man appeared in even more locations

at a zoo, a cousin's wedding, a school
field trip, and an airport terminal.

Never speaking, never
interacting, never aging.

No definitive answer ever surfaced and
the user eventually stopped updating.

The mystery remains one of red,
it's most unsettling rabbit holes.

Not because it's supernatural, but
because it feels like it could happen

to anyone who starts flipping through.

Old family photos might take.

You.

Ever look at your childhood photos and
think, wow, I miss simpler times while

this redditer said I miss simpler times.

And who the hell is that man?

Imagine finding out your entire
upbringing, had a background extra,

some dude wondering through your
life like he lost a bet with the

universe and had to photo bomb
one family for a decade straight.

If this guy was a
stalker, he was committed.

If he was a time traveler,
he was terrible at subtlety.

And if he was a glitch in the matrix,
honestly, he deserves a patch update.

Also, if he never aged in 10
plus years of photos, that isn't

paranormal, that's moisturizer.

Angela: And he employed
a dog to do it with them,

John: apparently so.

So if you found a stranger in every
childhood photo, would you call

the police or your therapist first?

Angela: Um, well I have a therapist
on speed dial, so probably him.

John: Right.

Angela: But then family members like
this person did, but I need to know more.

I'm intrigued.

John: Dig into it.

There's a whole freaking
thread you can dig through.

I

Angela: think I have to.

John: So is this man a stalker, a ghost,
a glitch, or just someone with the worst

sense of personal space in history?

Angela: I lost a terrible bet.

A terrible one.

John: I don't hear repentance

Angela: is to follow this
family around for 87 years.

John: I don't even know what
the hell to say about this.

I honestly don't even know what to say.

That's why

Angela: I don't wanna dig into it because

John: it's freaking weird.

Angela: I wanna make sure by my eyes
it does look like the same person.

It does look like the person doesn't age.

I wanna make sure,

John: will you report back to us?

I'm

Angela: going to, because.

John: I got enough on my plate.

This fits perfectly on your or It

Angela: does, doesn't it?

Yeah, it does.

Mm-hmm.

John: So should families start
adding random photo man checks

to their holiday traditions?

Yes, apparently so.

Okay.

Everybody look around.

Make sure it's only us.

Yeah, I, I mean, I don't know.

It's, it's a weird freaking story.

That's, it's very weird.

That's, that's why it, and I dig it.

That's why it's on this show.

I dig it a lot.

You ready for the red rabbit hole?

Angela: We just did that.

That's not what we're doing.

John: You ready for the dip?

Shit Diary.

Dip shit.

Diaries the robber who left his
phone number because crime is far

heard in one of the most hilariously
incompetent crimes in modern history.

18-year-old Reuben Zarate attempted to
rob a Chicago muffler shop only to realize

the money he wanted was locked in his
safe, that only the manager could open.

Instead of cutting his losses, he
left his actual cell phone number

with the employees so that they could
call him when the manager got in.

Oh my they did.

After calling the police first.

It's not often that you see a crime story
where the suspect essentially creates

his own arrest warrant using nothing
but optimism and a Motorola flip phone.

But Reuben Zarate decided to
redefine what it means to be

thoroughly unprepared criminal.

In March of 2008, Zarate walked
into a Chicago muffler shop, armed

with a gun and demanded cash.

The employees complied to a point they
handed over the small amount available

in the register, but explained that the
majority of the store's money was kept in

a safe that only the manager could open.

The manager not scheduled to
arrive for several more hours.

That is the moment where most
criminals reassess their life choices.

Mm-hmm.

Maybe they leave, maybe they
pick a different target.

Maybe they take up pottery but not ate.

Instead, in an act of criminal
innovation or severe brain fog, he

gave the employee his personal cell
phone number and told him to quote,

call him when the manager showed up.

End quote.

That's right.

He left traceable, verifiable police
ready contact information in the

middle of an armed robbery, and as
soon as he left, the employees did

exactly what you'd expect, called the
police, who immediately set up a plan.

Then they called Zarate politely informing
him that the manager was in and ready.

Zarate returned to the shop like he was
coming to pick up curbside groceries.

What he did not expect was a
squad of officers waiting for him,

realizing things had gone wrong.

Shockingly, he engaged in a brief shootout
with the police before being arrested.

No officers or employees were injured,
but re took a non-fatal shot to the leg.

Ending his brief career as
Chicago's least stealthy criminal.

He was charged with armed robbery,
aggravated assault, and attempted murder

for firing at the police, the cell number,
still active at the time of his arrest.

Of course, it was.

My take.

This man tried to schedule a robbery,
like it was a dentist appointment.

Yeah.

Hey, it's Reuben.

Just checking to see when
the safe guy will be in.

I've got a gun in a tight schedule.

He left his phone number.

His real one?

Yeah.

The one tied to his name, address,
and probably his MySpace account.

This wasn't robbery.

This was a cry for help from someone who
absolutely needed a guidance counselor.

So should police start letting
criminals book their book, their

arrests, like restaurant reservations?

Why?

Party of one Table and holding?

Yeah.

Mm-hmm.

I think so.

If you give a business your number
during a robbery, does that count

as signing up for text alerts?

Do it?

I think so What was Robin planning to do?

If the manager asked for a two hour
window, like the cable company,

I mean, uh, this guy, this guy think
takes the lead from the dumb asses.

Yeah.

That threw their masks
on with magic marker.

I think this guy takes the leap.

Angela: He, he makes me wanna
get a dirt dinner button now and

to add to our bullshit button.

John: Yeah.

It's uh, I got nothing on this,
nothing Dip shit diaries number

two, the nail salon robbery where
nobody cared enough to be robbed.

Angela: Okay.

Interesting.

John: So I got a video
for you to watch here.

Oh.

A man attempted to rob a nail salon
in Atlanta by yelling for everyone to

get down and hand over their money.

The problem, no one cared.

Customers stared at him utterly
unfazed until he eventually became

so discouraged by the collective
apathy that he walked out in defeat.

He managed to grab one cell phone on the
way out, but police later recovered it.

The suspect remains at large
and deeply embarrassed.

Angela: I love this.

I don't love that it
happened, but I, I love Oh

John: no, it's pretty great

Angela: that they were
all just like, what?

John: Yeah, it's pretty great.

Angela: Not sponsored, by the way.

He friends with Robin.

Should he have left his phone
number for them to, you know,

when they come to and realize they
were being robbed to call him?

John: Who?

What?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Angela: The other guy.

John: The other guy?

Angela: Yeah.

Robert Guy who was
waiting for the manager.

John: Oh, that moron.

Angela: Oh, they're friends.

He, he's just gonna leave his phone number
for them for when they come to realize

they were being robbed so they can call
him back when they're ready to be robbed.

Bad joke.

John: Well, you might be onto something.

Bad joke.

Okay.

So the, the description is, and for the
listeners out there, sorry to bore the

crap out of you, but the video out there
available on YouTube, you can watch

it, but Atlanta police are released
security footage of what may be the least

successful robbery attempt in American
history, and possibly the first one to be

defeated by pure concentrated disinterest.

The video begins with a man entering a
nail supply, a nail salon with his hand

inside a bag, presumably in attempt
to make it look like he had a weapon,

he loudly commands everybody, get
down, get down, gimme all your money.

The reaction, absolute silence,
zero movement, a room full of

people looking at him like he just
interrupted their meditation class.

Mm-hmm.

One woman casually glances up from
her chair and with the same energy as

someone noticing a burnt out light bulb.

A man near the counter doesn't even blink.

Another customer keeps scrolling
on her phone like the wifi is

more threatening than he is.

It's the robbery equivalent
of yelling fire in a library

and having someone whisper.

After a few fruitful seconds
of demanding compliance, the

would be robber approaches.

A woman sitting near the front, she
is the only one who actually stands

up, but she does not give him money.

She just slowly backs out the door like
she's exiting A weird conversation at

Thanksgiving, frustrated and confused.

The suspect pauses, looks around the
room and seems to realize in real time

that this is going exactly nowhere.

The customers remain completely still
unimpressed, immovable, and apparently

immune to threats made by a man with his,
with his hand in a crumble cookies bag.

Finally, the robber admits the defeat with
the energy of someone giving up on a diet.

By noon, he takes one last
look around and walks out.

He does manage to swipe the phone
from the woman who backed out,

but police later recovered it.

No other items were taken, no
injuries were reported, and no

one even messed up their manicure.

The suspect remains unidentified,
likely because police have, police are

having trouble describing the crime.

Suspect attempted robbery,
but was ignored into oblivion.

Yeah, my take, you know you picked
the wrong place to rob when your

threat level doesn't even register
In mild inconvenience, the customers

acted like he was the guy trying to
sell them cable service at Walmart.

The dude walked into a salon
expecting fear, chaos screams, and

instead got a room full of people
who were like, sir, we are busy.

Leave us alone.

We are exfoliating.

Honestly, the saddest part is watching him
realize he is absolutely zero authority.

It's like watching a balloon
deflate in real time.

Yeah.

This wasn't a robbery, it was
a group confidence workshop

for everyone except him.

So is it still a robbery
if no one acknowledges it?

Angela: Uh, no.

John: Does like, does crime
need pocket influence to count?

One person

Angela: has to

John: acknowledge it, at least.

I think probably you're right, yeah.

Should nail salons be classified as
emotional fortresses since apparently

nothing can shake the people inside them?

Angela: Yes.

It's all that acetone.

They were like, what?

John: Yeah, I mean it,
it's a hilarious video.

It's so freaking funny.

Does this man now avoid salons for
life or does he book a manicure

hoping it'll help his self-esteem?

Angela: I'm pretty sure he avoids.

He's probably pretty pretty.

So now

John: I think probably so.

Alright, so the next dipshit
diaries, the car thief who got locked

inside the car he tried to steal.

Wonderful.

A suspect, a suspected car thief
in South Africa broke into a parked

vehicle using a jamming device
only for the car's auto lock system

to activate and trap him inside.

He spit nearly two hours stuck in the
vehicle begging passerbys for help

until the owner returned and freed him.

Police promptly arrested him.

Completing one of the most
self-defeating crimes in recent memory.

Now all crimes are created equal.

Some are bold, some are clever, and
some are so catastrophically stupid

that nature itself intervenes.

Such was the case in Pretoria where a
would-be car thief discovered that modern

technology has no patience for amateurs.

According to the Star newspaper, the
man targeted a parked car near the

North Gu Tang High Court, an ambitious
choice considering the number of

police officers, lawyers, and security
personnel roaming the area using a

jamming device, he managed to interfere
with the locking signal, allowing him

to open the door and climb inside.

That's where his luck ended.

The car's auto lock system reactivated,
sealing the doors the beef was inside.

Suddenly, he was no longer
a criminal in motion.

He was a criminal in captivity.

Witnesses watch says The man realized he
was trapped, the panic sitting quickly.

He tried the locks.

He tried the handles.

He tried shouting through the windows.

He even told Passerbys that he
was a car guard, hoping someone

would believe him enough to help.

No one did, but they did call the
police, who in a rare change of pace,

didn't even need to chase the suspect.

They simply walked up, stared at him
through the window, and waited for the

rightful owner to return with the key.

For over 90 minutes, the suspect
sat inside the car like a goldfish

in a bowl, making awkward eye
contact with total strangers who

tried not to laugh too loudly.

When the owner finally arrived
and unlocked the door, the

police immediately arrested him.

Likely the easiest
arrest of their careers.

Beyond the comedy, the story
reflects a larger issue.

South Africa loses an estimated
8.5 billion rand worth of vehicles

annually to theft with nearly a
third being smuggled across borders,

and the rest cloned and resold.

But every industry, even crime
syndicates, has its weak links,

and this guy was one of them.

My take.

This man got trapped by a
car he was trying to steal.

I mean, that's divine intervention.

Imagine breaking into a vehicle
and then immediately realizing

the vehicle is broken into you.

He spent almost two hours locked inside,
staring at people like a zoo exhibit.

Here we see the lesser South African
dumb ass in his natural habitat.

The driver's seat.

Even the cops didn't bother rushing.

They knew he wasn't going anywhere.

At that point, they could have
stopped for ice cream first.

So

Angela: staring contest finals 2025.

John: Exactly.

If your car traps a thief inside,
does that count as an anti-theft

feature or free entertainment package?

Angela: Both.

And I think you should charge more.

John: I I agree a hundred percent.

Angela: And I really hope that
it was really freaking hot there.

John: Yeah, me too.

Really hot.

Yeah.

Should car manufacturers
start naming these systems?

Introducing the 2025 Ford Escape?

Unless you're stealing it.

Angela: Yes.

I can see it now.

Sponsors Ford.

We'll write it for you.

John: So what do you even talk about
with police after they open the door?

Angela: Hey guys.

Hi.

Funny story.

Yeah.

So I'm a car guard.

John: I'm a car guard,
whatever the hell that is.

Yeah.

Oh, maybe that's a South African thing.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I. But with that, are you ready
for our weird shit section?

Angela: It gets weirder,

John: weird shit.

Yeah.

And this one, I'm gonna try
my best to pronounce it, but I

don't know if it's right or not.

Jaba.

Jaba, that's what it man eating.

Spider of the Congo

Angela: of

John: Bond.

Deep in the rainforest of Central Africa.

Is that a deer that is eating?

Yes.

Or like an, I don't know, some African.

Dear thing, I don't know the equivalent.

Okay, so Ja, uh, deep in the rainforest
of Central Africa, locals tell stories

of a massive spider known as Java ffi.

A crypted said to reach a legan
of five to eight feet, capable of

killing small antelope, spraying
noxious fluid, weaving massive,

we webs and even attacking humans.

No scientific evidence exists, but the
legends persist across generations.

The Java ffi sometimes called the
Congo Giant Spider, which is a hell

of a lot easier to say, has been part
of central African oral tradition

for decades, possibly centuries.

Unlike Bigfoot or the Lochness monster,
which at least involve creatures,

people might want to see that Java
ffi is the nightmare scenario.

A spider so large it can block a trail,
flatten small wildlife and allegedly

chase people through the jungle.

Descriptions generally, say juveniles
are yellow, adults turn dark.

Brown leg spans can reportedly
reach five to eight feet.

With some hunters claiming
even larger, they move quickly,

leap horizontally and lurk.

In burrow likeness under large roots,
villagers described enormous web

stretched across jungle paths, low to
the ground, big enough to trap animals

like small antelope or warthogs.

The spider weights nearby, hidden
in foliage, in underground tunnels.

When pray becomes entangled,
it rushes out and delivers a

venomous, supposedly lethal bite.

According to legend, early explorers
and missionaries encountered them too.

One 1930s account claims a pair
of missionaries nearly stumbled

into a giant web only to watch
a massive brown spider rush out,

sending them backpedaling in terror.

Skeptics argue these accounts likely stem
from exaggerated memories, misidentified,

tarantulas, or simple fear fuel.

Fear fueled storytelling, but the legends
persist, supported by hunters claiming

their dogs disappeared in the massive
webs, overgrown trails with mysterious

impossibly large silk and strands.

Burrows too big for any known local
spider species and natives refusing

to travel certain areas after dark.

Of course there are the stories that
hikers repeat, but scientists politely

ignore the ones involving human
fatalities, though those are impossible

to verify, researchers suggest the
sightings may actually be giant baboon

spiders, which can reach 10 inches.

Forest tarantulas, monkey
nest, resembling webbing.

Bush yarns passed down and exaggerated.

But eyewitnesses remain firm.

No, they insist.

This is something else.

Whether real exaggerated or a
collective phobia turned into folklore.

The job of ffi is one of Africa's
most terrifying cryptids and the worst

possible thing to run into without
a flame thrower and a therapist.

My take.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

Hard pass.

If I'm hiking in the jungle and
I see a spider with a leg span

bigger than my hopes and dreams,
I'm leaving the entire continent.

A five foot spider.

That is not a crypted.

That is a lawsuit against God.

And people say, it can leap.

Buddy.

If an eight foot spider leaps at me, I
am discovering new Olympic sprint times.

I didn't know my body was capable of.

This is one crypted.

I don't need the proof.

I don't need the proof for the legend
alone is enough to ruin my week.

Angela: So Moth man shouldn't
bring this one to see you?

Hell no.

Okay.

Oh hell no.

So I've decided you
finally found a crypted.

I don't want to exist simply because
of the five people in my house.

I'm one of two that have been
voted to kill the spiders, and I

don't want to fight that thing.

John: I am not taking on a
freaking eight foot spider.

I'm out.

Man.

Angela: You don't.

I am out.

I don't have any flame throwers.

I think I need some now.

And I thought Australia was bad.

John: Yeah, apparently it's
got nothing on the Congo

Angela: apparently.

They're just like, I don't.

Mm-hmm.

John: So this is, you
hadn't heard of this one?

Angela: No.

And I am okay with it being wrong because
I don't wanna have to kill that one.

John: So if you saw a five foot
spider, would you A run B cry or

C ascend into the astral plane?

Angela: Uh.

F All of the above.

John: Yeah.

I don't even know what to say about
this thing except my, Nope, not me.

Angela: Yeah.

Why burn it down?

Burn it down.

John: Why do cryptids always
have terrifying abilities?

Why can't we have a giant
spider that just bakes muffin?

Or does taxes what you can
reach the high places dust.

Yeah.

Right.

So if Java is real, who's
volunteering to get the first photo

and why is it definitely not me?

Angela: Because you're busy with Moth man.

John: Yeah, I'll take moth man
over this freaking thing any day.

I don't know man.

You can't reason with spiders.

No.

Like even like grizzly bears
and shit, there's a chance

that they'll have mercy on you.

Like, you know, you hear these
stories about like children, I don't

know, and I'm just children being
raised by 'em and stuff like that.

And bears can be fun and playful.

Spiders, they don't have any of that.

They're going to kill you and eat you.

That's it.

That's all.

Unless your

Angela: hagrid,

John: well, I'm not hagrid,
so it doesn't count.

Angela: Yeah.

So,

John: but those stories do remind me
of the forest in the Princess Bride.

Angela: Star us' some unusual sizes.

John: Yeah.

And remember like those freaking webs
that were all over that he was, yeah.

He threw shit.

Yeah, that's what I was think.

That's where, where they came from.

Yep.

Mm-hmm.

Yep.

Alright.

Weird shit.

Number two, the Great Moon hoax of 1835.

When America believed in moon
unicorns in bat, people wait.

They don't still, I like this.

Okay.

In 1835, the New York Sun published a
widely popular six-part series claiming

astronomers had discovered life on
the moon, including batwing humanoids.

Two legged beavers and unicorns
grazing on lunar fields.

The articles were presented as legitimate
science, but were in fact satire.

Readers didn't realize that the
country believed the moon was full

of magical creatures until the paper
finally admitted it was all a hoax.

Before clickbait, before tabloids, before
Florida, man, there was the great moon

hoax a moment in history when Americans
collectively said, yep, that seems

real, and fully embraced the idea that
the moon was basically a cosmic zoo.

On August 25th, 1835, the New York Sun
published the first of six articles

claiming to reprint a scientific
paper from the Edinburgh SI Journal

of Science, written by a fictional
astronomer named Dr. Andrew Andrew

Grant, allegedly a colleague of the
real astronomer, sir John Herschel.

The articles detailed Herschel's
supposed trip to South Africa where

he used a new ultra powerful telescope
to observe the lunar surface.

And what he allegedly found was, well,
a lot unicorns galloping across Moon

Meadows, two legged beavers living
in little huts, glittering forests

and sapphire blue rivers, furry
winged humanoids that looked like

bat people landscapes covered in lush
vegetation, entire lunar ecosystems

thriving just beyond human reach.

The sun even provided vivid
illustrations, giving readers

a sort of 19th century National
Geographic for celestial wilderness.

People lost their minds.

Newspaper cells skyrocketed.

Crowds gathered in the streets
reading the articles aloud.

Schools used them as teaching material.

People debated which of the lunar species
would be the friendliest to humans.

Some wondered whether moon
unicorns could be domesticated.

This was the birth of the Penny
Press cheek, newspapers that made

money from massive circulation and
sensational stories, and nothing

sold better than Flying Moon.

People in the 1830s.

There was just one tiny issue.

None of it was real.

Not the moon beavers, not
the bat people, not Dr.

Andrew Grant, and definitely
not the telescope capable of

seeing lunar creatures sun
break sunbathing on crater rims.

The entire thing was satire, a jab at
earlier scientific speculation about

extraterrestrial life, but satire
only works if people know it's satire.

And 1835 America was not ready
for that level of nuance.

No, it took nearly a month for the
newspaper to finally admit that it was all

a hoax, but the legend never really died.

Today the great Moon hoax is remembered
as one of the earliest mass media stunts.

Proof that humans have always been willing
to believe wild stories, especially

if they come with cool illustrations.

Angela: I want a unicorn.

John: Yeah.

So

Angela: they'll use it
to defeat that spider.

John: Right.

Angela: My

John: take, I love that
people believe this.

You tell someone in 1835 that
the moon has unicorns and flying

Batman, and they're like, yeah.

That tracks.

Mm-hmm.

Imagine living in a world where the
biggest scientific descrip discovery

of your lifetime is basically
Elisa Frank sticker pack in place.

Pack in space.

Yes.

Also, the fact that the hoaxer
used the phrase two-legged

beavers and nobody questioned it.

That's how, you know, critical
thinking wasn't invented yet.

Honestly, the most unbelievable
part isn't the moon unicorns.

It's the idea that Americans
once trusted newspapers.

So, I mean, this is
like War of the Worlds.

Angela: Mm-hmm.

John: Which came years later.

But

Angela: the, the problem is.

There's 20, 25 people who aren't
ready for that kind of satire.

John: Oh, a hundred percent.

Angela: So

John: I mean, I mean there's 20, 25 people
that just make shit up on their own.

They don't even have to read something.

To believe that

Angela: AI is very helpful with that.

John: Yes, it is.

So if the moon did have unicorns, do you
think NASA would've skipped the Apollo

missions and sent horse trainers instead?

They certainly wouldn't
tell us about it if it did.

Yeah, that's very true.

So what's harder to believe lunar
bat people or the fact that a

newspaper admitted that it lied?

Angela: That the
newspaper admitted that it

John: lied?

Uh, a hundred percent.

If a modern news outlet tried this
today, would people debunk it instantly

or would someone start a face group,
a Facebook group called Moonbat?

People are real spoiler.

Yeah, they would.

There's

Angela: already

John: one.

Are you kidding?

I'm sure that there probably
freaking is one already.

Okay.

Weird shit.

Number three, Victoria's Black
Swan in the wedding venue full

of ghosts who never checked out.

Angela: Somebody invite me
to their wedding, please.

John: Victoria's Black Swan
Inn is a 35 acre historic

estate in San Antonio, Texas.

Elegant, appreciated,
and popular for weddings.

It's also one of the most notoriously
haunted properties in the region, built

on the site of a bloody 1842 battle,
and later home to several prominent

families whose spirits are said to remain.

The inn is filled with reports of
apparitions shadows, disembodied voices,

and possibly a cursed porcelain doll.

Stop.

Want to go keep mind?

Nope, Nope, nope.

Now at first glance, Victoria's Black
Swan in looks like something out in

a southern romance novel, sprawling
grounds towering, towering century

old oaks, and a stately Greek revival
home surrounded by lush acreage.

Ideal for weddings and photo shoots.

But beneath the postcard, perfect beauty
lies a history stacked with violence,

tragedy, generational hauntings, and so
many ghosts that the living residents

might as well start charging rent.

The land itself is soaked in history.

In 1842, decades before the
manner existed, the Battle of

Salt of Sato unfolded There.

More than 60 Mexican soldiers were
killed making the ground a literal

battlefield burial site, long before
anyone built a house, took wedding

photos or collected porcelain dolls.

The inn was constructed in the mid to
late 18 hundreds and passed through

several families, and nearly all
of them, according to legend, still

hang around in non-physical form.

Over the years, the property
served multiple purposes,

including a working dairy farm.

The barn behind the main home is
considered the most paranormally

active structure on the grounds,
footsteps, hushed conversations,

full-bodied apparitions, and
strange lights have been reported.

Members of the Ripstein and Mahler
families lived and died on the property.

Many of them are said to
still roam the estate.

Later sisters, Catherine Holbrooke
and Blanche Woods moved in bringing

children and grandchildren.

Catherine's husband died inside the
home and some believe he's among the

spirits still pacing the hallways.

Visitors and investigators frequently
report a woman in Victorian dress gliding

through bedrooms, children laughing in the
hallways where no children are present.

Cold spots that move like someone
brushing past shadows, darting near the

barn, muffled voices, whispering names,
knocks and footsteps in empty rooms.

The current owner, Joanne Rivera, lives
on the property with their family.

Though the name in Remains, it does
not operate as a hotel, but Rivera does

partner with local ghost tour groups and
his welcome paranormal teams for decades.

And then.

There's the porcelain Doll.

Rivera is an avid collector and
one particular doll is rumored

to be a paranormal anchor item.

Multiple investigators claim the
doll's presence corresponds with

spikes in activity, objects moving
on their own sudden cold bursts

or overwhelming feelings of being
watched from a child sized height.

Wedding guests have reported
photos where translucent

figures appear behind the bride.

One couple insisted they
heard someone whisper Don't

seconds before they said I do.

Unclear whether ghostly advice
applies to marriage decisions.

Victoria Black Swan Inn is now
considered one of the most haunted

private homes in Texas, a place where
the past refuses to stay in the past

and where every creek might be something
with opinions about the living.

My take.

Imagine booking your dream
wedding venue and finding out

half the guest list is dead.

This place has everything.

Battlefield, ghosts, family, ghost,
barn, ghosts, and a porcelain doll

that probably wakes up at 3:00
AM to judge your life choices.

Honestly, if you get married here
in the lights flicker during your

vows, that's not paranormal activity.

That's the ghost placing
bets on how long you'll last.

And for real, any house with a barn that's
the most haunted part, automatically goes

on my list of places I'm not visiting
without holy water and a group discount.

So,

Angela: I mean, the catering
bill would probably be cheaper

John: if you're feeding ghosts.

Yeah.

How does that work?

Angela: Because they're really not eating.

John: Oh, this is true.

So if a ghost interrupts your
wedding vows, do you get a discount?

Or just trauma?

Angela: Trauma?

And maybe,

John: maybe you should
rethink your life choices.

Maybe you should.

Why is it always a porcelain doll?

Why can't haunted objects ever be
something helpful like ghostly, air fryer?

Angela: Question of my life.

I was convinced for a while that
you just threw the doll in there

to see if I was paying attention.

John: Maybe so until the end.

It really was there.

They were

Angela: talking about doll and I was
like, okay, no, that's really there.

John: If the original battle ghosts
are still there, do they get annoyed

when people walk over their burial
site wearing high heels and duxedos?

I would think so.

I would think they probably do too.

Yeah.

Angela: Don't stand there.

That's what he meant by don't.

John: Right?

Angela: Don't stand there on my

John: head.

Sw.

You're gonna love this next story.

Oh, I love

'
Angela: em all.

John: You're really gonna love this one.

I love this one.

Ek The Bear Drinking Bear.

The beer Drinking Bear.

Who served as a Polish Army Private.

All right, then.

During World War ii, Polish Soldier
soldiers adopted a Syrian brown bear named

Wash Tech, who traveled with the second
Polish core carried artillery shells.

During the Battle of Monte Ca Casino,
wrestled with soldiers, drank beer,

smoked cigarettes, and eventually
became an enlisted private so he

could legally travel with the unit.

His story is one of the strangest,
most heartwarming and most unbelievable

moments in military history.

I think.

I love him.

I told you you're gonna like this story.

You know the story is going to
be good when it starts with, so

there was this bear in the army.

Tex's life began in 1943 when a
group of Polish soldiers encountered

a Syrian brown bear cub whose
mother had been killed by hunters.

The soldiers starving, exhausted,
traumatized, and battered.

After escaping Soviet labor camps took
him in, he became their companion, their

mascot, and eventually their brother
in arms, their emotional support.

Bear EK was raised among soldiers,
which meant he learned soldier things,

soldier things, wrestling, marching,
riding in trucks, sneaking threats.

Sneaking treats drinking
beer and eating cigarettes.

He didn't smoke them.

He literally ate them like snacks.

He adot dates and would chase any soldier
who passed with a top pocket full of them.

He slept beside the men.

He rode on their trucks.

He followed commands.

He shared their hardships and their fear.

When the Polish Corps moved from the
Middle East to Italy, they hit a snag.

Army regulations did not allow
animals as military passengers on

Transport City on transport ships.

The solution the soldiers enlisted
him was Tech was officially registered

as rank, private name ek, unit 22nd,
artillery supply company number,

actual military ID was issued.

Once in Italy, during the brutal
Battle of Monte Casino, allied Soldiers

watched in awe as the massive six
foot tall bear carried heavy artillery

shells and crates of ammunition doing
the work of several men without fear.

He became a symbol of morale,
strength, and survival.

The company even made him their official
emblem, a bear carrying a shell.

Soldiers later described wash tech as
gentle, playful, and loyal for men who

had lost homes, families and futures.

Wash tech became an anchor, someone
who understood displacement and found

family among those who saved him.

When the war ended, the soldiers
were dis, were demobilized.

They couldn't return to
Soviet occupied Poland.

So many settled in Britain.

EK was taken to the Edinburg, to the
Edinburgh Zoo where he lived from 1947.

Kelly's death in 1963,
veterans visited him for years.

One, corporal Andres Gasier wept
uncontrollably upon seeing him, the

stoic Polish soldier who'd survived
Serbian prison camps, frontline battles

and their brutality of war undone
by seeing his comrade once again.

Today, Wach has statues, books,
plays, and memorials honoring him.

The bear who went to war and
never forgot his brothers.

Angela: Dear Santa one,
watch Tech, please.

John: No kidding.

I mean, I had that friend
that, um, up in the big horns.

He, he freaking.

Domesticated.

A black bear is the
strangest freaking thing.

So this one

Angela: sounds cooler.

John: So my take this story has
everything, trauma, survival,

beer, cigarettes, and a giant
bear casually working in art,

in artillery logistics like it's
the world's strangest internship.

Honestly, imagine being a German soldier
in Monte Casino looking across the

battlefield and thinking, is that a bear
carrying ammunition wearing a uniform?

This wasn't just a mascot.

This dude was union labor, and the
fact that he technically outranked

it least three privates somewhere.

Chef's Kiss, wash, tick is the only
coworker I've ever heard of who eats

cigarettes and still performs better
than everyone else on the shift.

Angela: Paid and dates.

John: Painting dates.

So if a bear can be a private in
the Polish Army, does that mean

he had to pass a fitness test?

Because I guarantee he did
better than half the platoon.

Angela: I think he was the fitness test,

John: right?

Yeah.

And he wrestled.

So maybe that you have to wrestle the bear

Angela: fitness test.

John: So does, Hey, go, go wrestle.

Watch tech.

If you, if you lose, you
can't be in our, our right.

Does the Geneva convention cover
do not wrestle the enlisted bear.

Angela: Oh, little doubtful.

John: I mean, I love this story.

I just freaking love it.

Angela: I need one.

John: If Wash Tech were alive today,
would he run logistics for NATO

or just run the whole alliance?

The whole alliance.

I, you the updates.

He'd

Angela: do anything.

John: You know what I mean?

We have this now really with, um.

With German Shepherds.

I mean, we brought, and dogs have
been present in, in wars for,

for eons and eons, but they've,
they've really come out mm-hmm.

In full force.

I mean, I think that the, the usefulness
of 'em has, you know, I think it was

displayed in like police departments
and stuff for years and years,

and finally the military was like,
huh, maybe they're onto something.

Yeah.

But a bear, I mean.

That's even scarier.

If we can get, get bears out on
the street chasing the bad guys

instead of German shepherds, that
would be even better because now

it's like the dog will bite you.

But if we could turn it
into the bear will eat you.

Bear will eat you.

It would be a lot better.

Angela: I actually watched a body
cam video the other day where

they're like, dude, come out.

This dog wants to bite you.

John: Oh yeah.

They're very clear and
they're like, don't let go.

He is going to bite you.

It is going to hurt bad.

You are going to bleed

Angela: sitting

John: there screaming

Angela: at the tv.

Come out.

I see the dog.

He wants to bite you.

John: That's so freaking true.

Okay.

Weird shit.

Number five.

The severed leg in the grill.

No, the binders keepers case.

Oh, this one's freaking nuts.

And one of the strangest property
disputes in American history.

A North Carolina man bought a
used barbecue smoker at a storage

unit auction, and discovered
a mummified human leg inside.

The rightful owner wanted it back.

The buyer insisted, finders, keepers.

The fight over the limb escalated
into a national media circus, a

Judge Mathis episode, and eventually
a critically acclaimed documentary.

Angela: What?

And I've never heard of it.

John: I hadn't either.

I feel let down.

It began the way all legendary weird
stories begin a storage unit auction.

In 2007, Shannon wins Knot Winds not
bought the contents of a defaulted

storage locker in maiden North Carolina.

Inside was a used barbecue smoker,
a promising fine for a man who loved

grilling and backyard gatherings,
but when he opened it expecting

charcoal residue or old ribs, he found
something else, A human leg, a fully

real mummified amputated human leg.

The limb belonged to John Wood.

Who survived the 2004 plane airplane
crash that tragically killed his father.

Wood's leg was amputated due to
injuries sustained in the wreck.

Rather than disposing of it, he kept
the preserved leg as a personal memorial

to his father, storing it in the
smoker inside his renin storage unit.

Weird freaking place.

What?

Eventually wood fell
behind on the payments.

The unit went up for auction and Shannon
Wnu unwittingly became the new owner of

the grill and the human remains inside.

At first wind Nut did the rational thing.

He turned the leg over to police, but
then things took a turn, wasn't it?

Decided the leg was rightfully his.

His argument.

Binders, keepers, yes, he said it out
loud on television multiple times.

WNET planned to turn the leg into a
roadside attraction, charging curious

onlookers for the chance to see it.

He began making local news rounds,
giving interviews, marketing the

grill like it was the shroud of Turin.

Meanwhile, wood wanted his leg back.

He considered it sa, a sacred
memorial, and said he planned for

it to be cremated with him one day.

The police determined that WNET had
relinquished any ownership claim by giving

the leg to authorities in the first place.

But because this is America,
the conflict didn't end quietly.

Instead, they took the fight
to the Judge Mathis show.

On national television, judge
Mathis, the only adult in the

room, ruled in wood's favor and
ordered was not to return the leg.

However, Mathis also ordered W Wood to
reimburse him for the cost of the smoker.

The bizarre Sega caught national
attention and was later chronicled in

the acclaimed 2015 documentary binders,
keepers, which turned what seemed like

a joke headline into a surprisingly deep
story about grief, trauma, addiction, and

sometimes, and the sometimes absurd ways
people cope with loss and desperation.

It remains one of the strangest legal
mysteries in modern American folklore,

A perfect blend of tragedy, absurdity,
and very creative storage solutions.

Maik.

This is Peak American weirdness only in
the US could you lose your leg, embalm

it stored in a grill, have someone else
buy the grill, and then watch a custody

battle unfold on daytime television.

And the fact that Winnet tried to turn
the league, the leg into a business.

Well, of course he did.

The man saw human remains and
thought, you know what, this

needs Brooke Show gift Shop.

It's like the world's
saddest amusement park ride.

Step right up.

Kids.

See the amazing barbecue leg, sir, no

Angela: note to self add finders,
keepers to watch list, right?

John: I mean, I thought this was satire.

I honestly did.

I had to research it to
prove that it wasn't.

Angela: Did you watch a documentary?

John: No, I did not.

Shall we?

But maybe we shall.

So if you buy a used grill and
it comes with a free human leg,

is that a bargain or a curse?

Depends on do you need it?

I mean, I got so many
questions about this.

So when I was a kid, sixth grade,
this is why I don't like to buy

Angela: used things.

John: I had my tonsils taken out.

Right.

And you wanted them.

And I said, I want to keep my tonsils.

And they were like, we are not
legally allowed to do that.

So you made me micro, uh, microscope
slides with my tonsils, you

know, like slices of my tonsils.

Yeah.

And I still have those, but they
were like, you cannot take your

tonsils out of the hospital.

It's not allowed by law.

How did this guy get outta
there with a freaking leg?

Angela: Exactly.

That was the very first question I had.

John: I mean, it wasn't like,
this was in the 18 hundreds.

It was like 2004 or some shit like that.

So how did he get the leg?

I don't understand it.

I had to pay out the nose just

Angela: to get my x-rays of my leg.

Right.

And that wasn't even taken.

John: And then, and then, and
then I buy a barbecue grill and

it has any human body part in it.

I am never using that grill ever again.

It's going straight to the
dump, probably with the leg.

I mean, I, if the cops determine
it isn't involved in a crime, I

don't want nothing to do with it.

Angela: Yeah.

Like you, no,

John: I'm certainly not gonna
fight a legal battle No.

To keep ahold of somebody else's leg.

I mean, if dude was like, I want
my leg back, I'd be like, yeah,

come pick for creepy ass thing up.

Take it off.

I want it outta here.

Angela: Leg smoker.

John: Go.

So, which brings up, should
finders keepers ever apply to

body parts or does that rule stop
at sunglasses and spare change?

I'm

Angela: pretty sure it should stop.

John: I'm pretty sure

Angela: it's your, yeah.

John: If it's your body
part, it's yours forever.

Angela: Forever.

John: It's kinda like sex toys.

Once yours all always yours

Angela: ever.

John: So if your severed leg ends up
on the Judge Mathis show, does that

count as post humanist accomplishment?

Yes, I think it does.

Yeah.

Angela: He's famous now.

John: He ought to be.

Right.

But that's it.

That's all I got for us tonight.

Do you have anything to add

Angela: on a severed leg?

John: On a severed leg?

In a smoker grill?

Angela: We have to hop around now.

John: Yeah.

Angela: Damnit.

John: That's how it works.

All right.

Do you have anything else to add?

Angela: I really don't, other than I, I
am intending to watch that documentary.

You

John: have to.

Alright, listeners, well thank
you for joining us for another

insane and fun episode of Dark
Dialogue Shadow Chat Sessions.

Uh, be sure to give us a light,
give us a follow, hit the thumbs up,

hit the bell and leave us a review
all the things, because tell us

Angela: what you would do with the leg.

John: Now we're interested to hear.

You can send all of that as, as
well as case suggestions, kudos,

critiques, anything you want to
talk about to info@darkdialogue.com.

You can check out all
the rest of our shows.

We have a whole plethora of 'em.

You can find all of
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And if there's nothing else, I'm John,
and I'm Angela And stay safe, everybody.

Have a great

night.