Ep.201 – Hell Hath No Fury - A Wronged Woman NEVER RESTS!
An unassuming housewife becomes a pariah of a small Texas community but her revenge will not be supressed...
Hell Hath No Fury by Aaron Michael Cook
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
https://gmail.com/...
An unassuming housewife becomes a pariah of a small Texas community but her revenge will not be supressed...
Hell Hath No Fury by Aaron Michael Cook
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
WeeklySpooky@gmail.com
Music by Ray Mattis http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Executive Producer Rob Fields
Produced by Daniel Wilder
This episode sponsored by
HenFlix.com
For everything else visit
WeeklySpooky.com
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Justice is a complicated thing. It's
safe to say that pretty much anyone listening
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00:00:06.040 --> 00:00:10.560
to this hope there'll never be a
part of the justice system, as you
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00:00:10.640 --> 00:00:16.519
never know when the wind will blow
harshly against you, making you set sail
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for imprisonment or worse yet death.
What's that You want to be scared?
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Come with me. You will experience
tales over opera, ghosts, and death.
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It is not recommended at the foot
the weak at heart. Listen us
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00:00:49.920 --> 00:01:03.200
in the dark. It's more fun
that way. This weekly speaking Hello,
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my spookies, It's Wednesday, and
you know what that means. It's time
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for a little spooky in your weekly. I'm your host and narrator, Enrique
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Kuto, and here we are episode
two hundred and one. I hope you
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all enjoyed very much our big episode
two hundred celebration. I got a lot
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of awesome emails and social media contact
about it. You seem to really dig
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what we did, and I'm glad
because I dig doing it. If you
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didn't get a chance to listen,
well, it's last week's show and I
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highly recommend it. But speaking of
pride and being proud, today's story is
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special to me because it was sent
in by an Ohio writer, and I,
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being a proud Ohioan, love sharing
the art. So we have a
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very special story from Aaron Cook's book
Scream if You're Having Fun, which is
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available now on Amazon for you all
to listen to. But before we get
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to that, I want to say
a humongous thank you for all of you
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listening, because you see, it's
the middle of summer and lots of people,
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00:02:12.280 --> 00:02:15.400
in my opinion, boring people,
but maybe they're just normal people don't
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want the Spooky in the dead of
summer, but I certainly do, and
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00:02:20.560 --> 00:02:23.719
so do you all who are listening
right now. So thank you for listening,
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00:02:23.719 --> 00:02:29.400
and make sure you're subscribed on your
favorite podcasting app, and while you're
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there, leave us a star rating. It makes a big difference for the
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show and helps people like us discover
the program. And speaking of people like
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us, make sure to join us
at our Facebook group, which is Weekly
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Spooky's Tomb of Terror. Just type
it into Facebook and join us as we
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00:02:47.039 --> 00:02:52.560
share all kinds of scary, good
fun. And if you have a friend
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you think would love the Spooky on
the weekly, send them our way.
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But now, my dear listeners,
I think it's getting a little cold outside,
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even for the dead of summer,
so let's emphasize dead of summer together
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after these quick words, hell hath
no fury by Aaron Cook, Oh,
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shoot the cookies. Zeldame Darling had
been in the kitchen all day, and
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the stress of hosting a dinner party
had caused her to nearly forget about the
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chocolate chipped treats that were roasting in
the oven. She fitted her dainty hands
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into mits and plucked her signature dessert
from the sauna. No blemishes of overcooking
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to be found. Pulling the elongated
trays out, She didn't wait two minutes
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before conducting a taste test. Delicious, if she did say so herself.
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She treated herself to a second one. Jake wouldn't approve of the extra snack,
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but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt
him. There was more than enough
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food, she justified with internal guilt. The housewife had been in domestic bliss
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for three full years and was still
in her early twenties. Born in small
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town, Arkansas in nineteen fifty,
the Bell had left home to attend Texas
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A and M Towards the end of
her first year There she worked an alumni
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ball where she met Big Jake Darling, an oil bigwig and generous donor to
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his old stomping grounds. Despite the
three decade age gap, Jake fell madly
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in love with the fair skinned,
dark haired server in the Go Go Boots,
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and his resources made it pretty easy
for Zelda May to ignore the pot
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belly, receding hairline, and uneven
mustache. After mere weeks of whirlwind courting,
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the pair joined in matrimony in front
of a crowd of hundreds at his
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ninety acre ranch in the otherwise modest
village of Tumbleweed. Jake was eager to
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prove to his new bile bride that
he had learned from the mistakes of his
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first two marriages. There had been
some downs. Jake was ornery, hypercritical,
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and mentioned his appreciation for the anatomy
of other women, most even younger
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than her, quite often. But
he was a man, and oh what
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a man he could be. That
little wallflower who entered college station would be
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surprised at what she became. Prior
to her nuptials, Zelda May's culinary expertise
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topped out at popping microwave popcorn,
but now she was a regular Julia child.
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She chuckled at what her younger self
would say if she found out about
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the elaborate shindigs she now held on
a regular basis. Tonight she would be
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hosting a soiree for Jake's colleagues and
their wives. It was an important one.
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Cattle mogul kl Bandy had accepted an
invitation. Joining his inner circle was
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a guaranteed ticket to political success,
which the oil man craved. He had
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been locally beloved on the village council
for a number of years, but he
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was sick of judging pie bake offs
and attending ribbon cutting ceremonies for libraries.
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The state Senate was calling him.
All Bandy had to do was hand him
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the phone. Ten minutes had passed
since Jake's promised five to thirty homecoming.
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This worried Zeldom sick. It was
a pretty common occurrence for him to overshoot
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his eta, but precedent never made
it peaceful. He was a wealthy and
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powerful man, which automatically put a
target on his back. The poor wife
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never knew if her gregarious partner had
blown away the time chatting with an old
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chum or had been assassinated by an
envious political opponent. The hypothetical loss of
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her paramour made her sick to her
stomach, but she couldn't regress the paranoia.
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Finally, Jake stumbled in, having
gotten a head start on the spirit
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imbibement of the night. Hi Honey, Zeldame lit up, Hey biscuit.
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Jake hiccupped his pet name for her, as his massive jowls jiggled and his
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pale white belly cut into his Everything's
Bigger in Texas belt buckle. He stunk
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of the cheapest gin Brady's Bar had
to offer, and the collar of his
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white Colonel Sanders suit was scuffed.
In Zelda May's eyes, she was looking
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at Paul Newman. The guests should
be here soon, getting there. You
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need me help, well, actually, if you could. Jake's sobering snooze
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began the second it was even implied
there was a way he could streamline the
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toil of his labored spouse was no
big deal. She was pretty sure she
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liked doing housework. There were still
several dishes she needed to magically conjure before
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nine o'clock. Then she needed to
wash up the feast, worked up a
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sweat and it would be unladylike to
not present herself as immaculate as possible.
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Not that long ago, the looming
threat of the deadline would have scared her
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something fierce, but not anymore.
Sure Enough, the spread was laid out,
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and she emerged from the powder room, renewed in her pearls and heels,
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mere minutes before the first ring of
the doorbell, the sound of which
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revived her downed bow, who quickly
wiped the drool from his face. Harvey
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Lois the Learners were the beneficiaries of
the death of the mister's father, which
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granted them control over one of the
state's largest construction firms. Harvey had never
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actually seen a pile of rubble,
and Lois, also from old money,
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was prone to making statements that made
her formerly modest friend feel insecure about her
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background. Up next were the Duprez
Don had recently acquired controlling interest in the
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popular, inexpensive and small chain Selman's
Department Store, which he was eagerly licking
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his lips to merge with a larger
company. Floonetta and Ducky Perry arrived shortly
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after years of entertaining them hadn't shed
a light on what they did for a
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living. All Zelda May knew was
they were filthy rich. Just when Zelda
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May was about to shepherd her company
into the dining room for their banquet,
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a limousine pulled up to the Darling
residence. The driver exited his position to
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release an invitee that Zelda May had
forgotten about, but Jake certainly hadn't.
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Kale Bandy. Everybody stopped what they
were doing to gaze upon the richest man
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in the lone star state, which
angered loess Lerner, who it only belted
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out a stanza and a half as
she cooed and curled over the piano.
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The vip looked nothing like the image
Zeldamee had cooked up in her head.
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She had pictured a good old boy
with roughly the same features as her beloved
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and his colleagues. Instead, a
decrepit skeleton shambled up to her porch,
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escorted on each shoulder by a Miss
Texas contender. The man half as old
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as the Earth and his gal pals
glacially meandered towards his admirers inside and irate.
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Jake furiously barked at Zelda May to
stop daydreaming and opened the door for
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the guest of honor. Long before
he reached the welcome mat, Howdy,
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mister Brandy, and excited Don Dupree
powered through the crowd to win the race.
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To determine the old man's inaugural conversation, Dupree firmly grasped Bandy's hand in
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a shake which cracked the Methuselah of
meets worn joints. Embarrassed, Double D
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frantically apostologized to the unoffended baron.
Despite his assurance, Don replayed the moment
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in his head over and over,
removing himself from the camaraderie to self flagellate.
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Hello, mister Bandy, beamed Zelda
May Jake has told me so much
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about can we get you anything?
Mister Bandy? The King of the Castle
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stifled his wife. He shot her
a dirty look. As the ancient one
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declined, Jake pulled zeldamee aside and
mentioned his distaste for the comment. When
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Bandy was out of earshot. What
things was she implying? He had mentioned?
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Did he look suspicious? Just now? She was going to blow his
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big shot. Sorry, honey,
just don't talk to him or look at
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him. The convoy entered the pure
white dining room. Effusive scores were given
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to Zelda May's creations before a bite
was even taken, including many from the
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treasured newcomer who sat in the head
chair after the usual Alpha seated his territory
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for this one night only. Convival
talk among the boys followed as the women
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chatted about past in future dinner parties. Although a rattled down mostly just nodded
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in agreement. Two worried about throwing
another bone headed interception. This was their
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one chance to impress a man that
could fatten their portfolios. Ducky Perry fantasized
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about his soon to be new best
friend handing over the deed to one of
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his tremendous golf courses. Jake took
every inch to bring up his steakhouse concept.
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Tired of all beef all the time, the gazillionaire never offered much response
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to the proposal. Did this guy
even know anything about running a restaurant?
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Further incessant, half baked hypotheticals continued
to line dance on the geezer's already feeble
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nerves. The brisket was excellent,
the corn was phenomenal, and the apple
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pie had been some of the best
he had tasted in his countless years on
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this planet. But another round of
rump kissers had left Bandy exasperated. Zelda
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May quit staring at mister Bandy.
Jake reprimanded his adult wife as if she
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was a toddler with a tattling habit. I wasn't, she defended herself.
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Another round of tupperware talk had been
her limit for the past ten minutes.
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She had been zoned out, affixed
on nothing in particular. Yes, you
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was now apologize. It's quite all
right, Bandy foolishly said, in an
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agitation that seemed to imply he was
more irritated by him than her. Sometimes
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she gets like this, like what
Zelda May countered, now, more anxious
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to hear her fictional shortcomings than appearing
demure. Don't start you started it,
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folks. I think I'm gonna call
it a night, the esteemed mogul said,
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as he jest for his twins to
help him up and out. Part
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of him felt bad for his dogpiled
host, but most of him wanted to
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thank her for giving him an excuse
to escape this never ending assault of false
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praise. See what you did,
Jake blared to a degree that the heart
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of hearing Bandy heard from a room
away. Zeldome honey Flownetta's fake accent permeated
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with a passive aggressiveness that elicited a
cold draft down the pariah's spine. I
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hope you're happy. I almost had
a third car dealership, Don whined.
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The grumbling gaggle emotionally and wordlessly returned
to their vehicles, leaving Zeldamee alone to
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face Jake's wrath. In addition to
Tonight's alleged staring gaff, he found nitpicks
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in the food he scarfed down and
found flaws with her hair, makeup and
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chubby cheeks. If she kept letting
herself go, that girl he saw today
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after work might just have to move
in. Jake continued his relentless attack,
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which would have driven Zelda May to
tears if she hadn't cried them all out
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over the years. As a compulsion, she started to work on the everest
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of dishes. Of course, the
supposed clean freak didn't offer her a modicum
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of help. At least he was
talking to her. That was a refreshing
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change of pace. She began scrubbing
the tainted plates in a fury. As
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Jake continued his verbal bulrush a sutty
mess, Zelda May pulled the dishwasher rack
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out and marched to the fridge for
some chardonnay, which she elected to down
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straight from the bottle. Jake scoffed
at the lush she could be, and
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attempted to pry the bottle loose.
Much bigger, his stripsack was overpowering,
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spiking and staining the kitchen floor with
wet glass. Naturally, this was seen
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as purely Zelda May's error, which
resulted in a final flurry of condescension.
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Sick of hearing these judgments, the
harried housewife gave her husband a shove her
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anger, propelling her strength to unprecedented
levels. The back of Jake's boots skidded
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over the edge of spillage. The
hoss tried to compose his balance, which
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only caused him to dance more erratically
before he fell over backwards in a heap,
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cracking his neck on the still exposed
dishwasher. The crunch was louder than
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the snap of the wishbone of her
famous Thanksgiving turkey. No choking, no
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throws, no mournful departing apology,
instant death. Don't go away weekly,
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Spooky will be right back. Stunned, the accidental killer stared back at her
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unintentional victim. The eyes that had
been full of fire just seconds before were
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now ghost white. She didn't blame
herself. It was a self induced accident,
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a fatal folly caused by his own
foolishness. Now single part of her
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felt sad about the loss of her
partner, but more of her felt relieved
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that there was finally some quiet in
here. Now she could tidy this mess
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in piece calmness could be. Zelda
May grabbed the mop and dust pan and
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commenced the arduous clean up, a
chore that was made more difficult by the
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two hundred and fifty pound hindrance that
blocked some of the puddle. Manslaughter was
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no excuse for a dirty home.
My husband is dead, she phoned the
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cops. As hard as she tried
to appear hysterical, She was no actress.
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The death of Big Jake Darling sent
shockwaves through the local community. Although
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Zelda May figured she would be spending
the foreseeable future playing the part of the
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simple athetic widow, her adopted home
quickly made her a female Peter Sellers and
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cast her in many roles a bloodthirsty
harpy, a cold blooded Jezebel, and
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an unscrupulous gold digger who pulled out
the ultimate gambit to collect Jake's money,
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which, unbeknownst to them, was
sealed off by the prenup he convinced her
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to sign. Many claimed they saw
this coming years ago. There was always
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something off about that darling woman.
Even with forensic experts confirming the death by
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misadventure theory, the late's buddy won
Sheriff Zeke Hitchens, decided to treat this
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as what they all knew. It
was a heartless murder. That year's Trial
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of the Century followed. Soon everyone
with access to a newspaper had an opinion
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on Zelda Mae Darling. Jake's financial
accomplishments, subjective platitudes, and status as
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a local leader were broadcasted non stop, with no mention of his tantrums or
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philandering proclivities. On the other side
of the token, any assumed character defect
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of Zelda May was taken with a
tower of salt. Don Dupree mentioned the
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foaming madness he witnessed firsthand at the
dinner party and wondered aloud how he narrowly
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escaped the massacre. The defendant was
powerless and unable to bring up the drunken
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not so nice words Harvey Learner had
to say about Jake that a similarly inebriated
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Lois had blurted to her during an
avon social Zelda May was without any support.
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Even her own mother had severed ties, fearful of what having a cozy
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relationship with her criminally insane daughter would
have on her own reputation. I didn't
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raise her that way, you know. Mamma Darling made sure to alert everyone
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in the court house. The judgment
was swift. Zelda May Darling was going
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to the poor girl had made the
mistake of bagging a lofty and influential trophy.
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Twenty million dollars of leverage had been
the difference between life without parole and
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the electric chair. The consensus was
euphoric. Some felt even the most damning
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conviction was still too lenient for that
bitch. Too bad they couldn't personally summon
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Satan to drag her to the nether
world where she belonged. State endorsed killing
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is a lengthy process, Although scheduled
for a nineteen seventy two execution. Zeldamee's
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lawyers appealed and petitioned as much as
they could, much to the chagrin of
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the mob. Years passed. No
longer was she a bubbly socialite or an
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angelic homecoming queen. She had grown
hardened by the prison system. Unkempt hair,
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a haggard face, a perpetual scowl
were all that remained. A new
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charity believed they had found a pole
to prevent her death from being a crispy
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one, which earned them hatred and
mockery. It was too late anyway,
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she wanted to die. Finally,
on the hottest day of nineteen eighty three,
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Zelda May was ushered to the chamber. Her last meal the previous night
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was two cookies, one more than
Jake permitted her to have. The condemned
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was placed in the sparky fairy and
asked if she had any final words.
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She had none. A guard walked
to the lever. He had been a
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mere child during Zeldamee's trial. His
mother and father made her out to be
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a boogie woman, but there was
a sadness in her wild eyes, a
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story only she knew. Still,
this is what the people of Texas craved.
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If there was a way to move
her demise to a packed house at
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the Astrodome, few would protest it. The guards swung the switch. Zeldamei's
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pupils bulged and her limbs thrashed.
The watts coursing through her veins were nothing
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compared to the hatred flowing inside her
vengeful brain. She outlasted the average survival
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time by ten agonizing seconds out of
pure spite. Even when public Enemy number
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one had been reduced to a charred
hunk of flesh, the overseers were fearful
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she had even more fight to give. She's Hell's problem now boys. The
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warden congratulated the elimination of the menace. Let's hope they keep her. Hope,
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you bitches are having a good sleigh. Delaney Parker and her flamboyant co
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host Chet screamed their popular trademark greeting
before they launched into the exposition of their
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latest vlog. A consummate influencer,
Delaney insisted on fourteen more takes before she
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was satisfied. Chet and Delaney were
the team behind Booze and Bludgeonings, a
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lifestyle brand they had started together four
years prior while attending UCLA. What started
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off as an online channel devoted to
their mutual interest in both true crime and
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alcohol blossomed into a multi level brand
that included a podcast, t shirts,
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and of course, their very own
IPA. The duo was most famous for
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their broadcasts from murder sights. Their
most popular episode up to this point had
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been the night they braved the Lizzie
Boorden Inn. Although it was a bit
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intimidating to be on the grounds of
one of the most infamous slayings ever,
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neither talking had believed in the supernatural. Contrary to what their subscribers believed.
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Chet had added those orbs and moans
and post right after they filmed their forty
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minutes worth and bolted. Their fans
lapped that slop up B and B was
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a polarizing empire. Many felt their
content was crass and exploitive, not to
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mention derivative. However, those critics
were drowned out by their adoring acolytes,
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who loved to live vicariously through the
pair's Instagram page just as much as they
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enjoyed the journey into the macabre.
Their latest stunt was sure to be their
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biggest hit yet, a live midnight
broadcast from the grave of Zelda May Darling,
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a Southern belle who rang for the
last time in nineteen eighty two.
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In the forty years since Zelda May's
death, Tumbleweed had grown up to a
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fair sized city of sixty thousand,
several miles from the pauper's grave they had
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given their most notorious former resident.
Despite the shame of her now dead or
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senile dammers, the terror of Tumbleweed
had been given a forgiving retrospective thanks to
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countless televised reenactments which elaborated on the
kangaroo court in justice she had been forced
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to endure, as well as revelatory
evidence Jake Darling may not have been a
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nice man. A museum in her
honor now stood not far from the very
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same courthouse she had been mortally punished. Cheap paperbacks inspired by her saga littered
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bookstores. A street fair sold nachos
and cotton candy. On the weekend closest
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to the anniversary of the night she
lost her innocence, tourists, mostly women
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who occasionally had half the mind to
butcher their own dufus husbands, flooded the
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streets of the town that had ostracized
her. Zelda May was forced to watch
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it all somewhere, every cheap trinket, every hollow word of support, every
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dollar made on her trauma, a
montage of retribution against her, a cosmic
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00:25:56.440 --> 00:26:03.319
decree for an unpremeditated act. No
longer human, she still felt the pain
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00:26:03.440 --> 00:26:08.599
of her penance burn across her changed
image. She pleaded for her unseen tormentor
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to stop, which only intensified the
noise. Four decades of torture had felt
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00:26:15.039 --> 00:26:19.799
like four eons. Where was this
adulation back in her own day? These
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00:26:19.920 --> 00:26:25.839
parasites worshiping her were no better than
the cocksuckers who put her away. The
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00:26:25.960 --> 00:26:32.119
cycle flipped back to rage as she
gnashed and snarled, vowing to break free.
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Halfway across town, two of those
profiteers had taken up shelter at the
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lone Star Motel. Surveying her outfit
for the big show. Delaney was assured
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00:26:44.119 --> 00:26:48.880
by her boyfriend that she looked banging
as he cradled her body, which earned
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00:26:48.880 --> 00:26:55.880
a push. No macho bullshit Chet
needed to focus and stay in the caricature
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00:26:55.960 --> 00:27:00.160
they had created. It was funnier
and the demographic suggested her male viewership might
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00:27:00.200 --> 00:27:04.440
take a hit if they found out
she was off the market. This was
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00:27:04.480 --> 00:27:08.559
a big night, and he wasn't
going to ruin it. Neither were the
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00:27:08.599 --> 00:27:15.359
haters online Tonight. She was going
to break the internet. Fuck, I
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00:27:15.519 --> 00:27:22.079
keep losing service. It was now
eleven fifty eight and the event seemed on
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00:27:22.160 --> 00:27:27.319
thin ice due to spotty reception.
Chet was getting fed up with Delaney's diviness.
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The Hicks had buried Zelda May so
far out in the Booneys that Delaney
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feared they wouldn't make it on time. Finally, right over top, the
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00:27:37.000 --> 00:27:42.400
only recently installed marker two bars lit
up. It was going to happen.
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00:27:42.839 --> 00:27:49.400
Zelda May's reputation had allowed them to
become innovators. Cemeteries usually frowned on trifling
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among the graves, Delaney learned that
the hard way. She took a deep
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breath and visualized the viral hit she
had on her hands. The countdown hit
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00:28:00.200 --> 00:28:07.519
zero, the red light went on. The marshy ground began to open up.
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What the fuck? Chet said in
his natural gruff accent, which broke
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00:28:12.160 --> 00:28:19.079
there no unbleeped swearing rule. Chet
girl, We're live. Delaney sternly reminded
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00:28:19.240 --> 00:28:25.839
as she panned the camera just as
her lover was forcefully snatched by a bony
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00:28:25.920 --> 00:28:32.079
hand, first by the leg and
then quickly by the throat. Fuck all
305
00:28:32.160 --> 00:28:37.200
of you, the revenant hissed as
she smashed another man's neck on purpose this
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00:28:37.279 --> 00:28:41.279
time. Oh my god, Oh
my god, Oh my god. Delaney
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00:28:41.319 --> 00:28:45.640
took off, half in fear,
half in amazement. All she had to
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00:28:45.680 --> 00:28:51.640
do was outrun this old bag of
bones and she'd have the most watched video
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00:28:52.400 --> 00:28:56.599
of all time. Forty years of
rust and rod had not slowed. Zelda
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May down the former trackstar, or
let her prey have a head start,
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just to give her some false hope, and then sicked her the bones of
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00:29:07.400 --> 00:29:11.079
her malformed legs, twisting and bending
with each stride until she pounced on this
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00:29:11.200 --> 00:29:15.920
intruder, pinning her against the side
of the vehicle they had violated her resting
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place with. She was a pretty
girl, roughly the same age she had
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00:29:22.000 --> 00:29:27.240
been the night she really died.
Zelda May looked at the ghastly visage in
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00:29:27.279 --> 00:29:33.680
the rearview window, gasped, and
with one violent tug, ripped Delaney's face
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clean off. She needed it more
than her The triple homicider realized she had
318
00:29:41.319 --> 00:29:48.000
crudely applied the mask and adjusted it
over the exposed rottage, shoeing away a
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00:29:48.000 --> 00:29:53.079
few worms as well. She was
young and beautiful again, with a whole
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00:29:53.160 --> 00:30:02.839
town to paint red. Zelda May
reset her lower body and made her way
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00:30:03.000 --> 00:30:10.400
towards Tumbleweed. The audience couldn't believe
the sheer tackiness of this spectacle. Booze
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00:30:10.400 --> 00:30:15.319
and bludgeonings faking their own deaths,
a phony monster, never ending footage of
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00:30:15.400 --> 00:30:22.519
dirt. The channel had truly jumped
the shark. Even their most loyal followers
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00:30:22.759 --> 00:30:26.319
logged off the live stream in droves. By the time the battery had ran
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00:30:26.440 --> 00:30:33.799
out, the incident was so panned
Chet and Delaney never made another video or
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00:30:33.119 --> 00:30:45.839
public appearance ever again. I love
a good revenge tale. And if you
327
00:30:45.880 --> 00:30:51.440
want to hear more from the author, Aaron Cook, a fellow Ohioan,
328
00:30:51.920 --> 00:30:56.240
check out his book Scream if You're
Having Fun by Aaron Michael Cook. It's
329
00:30:56.279 --> 00:31:02.079
available on Amazon, Barnes, and
Noble, and you can get a digital
330
00:31:02.160 --> 00:31:03.720
version for as low as ninety nine
cents. And I want to give him
331
00:31:03.720 --> 00:31:07.519
a plug because he was kind enough
to offer up his story for all of
332
00:31:07.599 --> 00:31:12.160
us to enjoy. And boy,
I have to say, listening to the
333
00:31:12.240 --> 00:31:15.599
story, it made me think a
lot of the little Kentucky ladies I grew
334
00:31:15.640 --> 00:31:19.240
up with, my mother's mother and
my mother's aunt. They were just full
335
00:31:19.279 --> 00:31:26.400
of pardon, little expression, piss
and vinegar, and I kind of fed
336
00:31:26.480 --> 00:31:29.839
that into my characterization. So I
hope you all enjoyed that a whole hell
337
00:31:29.880 --> 00:31:32.839
of a lot as much as I
did. And a big thank you again
338
00:31:33.279 --> 00:31:37.000
to Aaron Michael Cook for letting us
read his story. And now I want
339
00:31:37.000 --> 00:31:41.920
to say another huge thank you to
our Patreon podcast boosters. These are folks
340
00:31:41.960 --> 00:31:45.880
who not only join our Patreon at
Weekly Spooky dot com where they get all
341
00:31:45.000 --> 00:31:51.079
kinds of fun bonus material, but
they pay a little bit more just to
342
00:31:51.119 --> 00:31:56.759
hear their names on the show.
And they are Johnny Nicks, Bobletopia dot
343
00:31:56.759 --> 00:32:01.680
Com, Meghan Hua, Julia k
Brent mccallaugh, Steve King, Karen we
344
00:32:01.839 --> 00:32:06.160
Met, Jack Kerr, and Craig
Cohen. Thank you all so much,
345
00:32:06.200 --> 00:32:08.960
And if you want to support the
show directly, just go to Weekly Spooky
346
00:32:09.079 --> 00:32:13.720
dot com, click on Patreon,
and for as little as one dollar a
347
00:32:13.759 --> 00:32:19.079
month you get all kinds of bonus
material like an exclusive story every month Behind
348
00:32:19.119 --> 00:32:22.799
the Scene looks at all of the
intriguing things I'm up to and so much
349
00:32:22.839 --> 00:32:25.880
more. But now I need to
get out of here because I have so
350
00:32:25.960 --> 00:32:30.559
much more cooking for you all here
at Weekly Spooky. So until next time,
351
00:32:30.599 --> 00:32:35.559
my friends, for myself, for
my executive producer Rob Fields, my
352
00:32:35.640 --> 00:32:39.839
producer Dan Wilder, and our composer
Rainmadis, I will talk at you next
353
00:32:39.880 --> 00:32:46.279
time, and thank you again for
over two hundred episodes of The Spooky on
354
00:32:46.319 --> 00:32:51.519
the Weekly. I love you all
so much. Thank you for listening.
355
00:32:52.599 --> 00:32:58.559
Make sure to find your way back
next week. But for now you are
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00:32:58.680 --> 00:33:00.480
safe, trust me.