Speaker 1: Disgraceland as a production of Double Elvis. A quick heads
Speaker 1: up for those who may be triggered by tales of
Speaker 1: sexual abuse and violence. This episode of Disgraceland depicts both.
Speaker 1: The story about the King of Western Swing Spade Coolie
Speaker 1: is insane. He was a violent, drunk and homicidal psychopath
Speaker 1: with the time was one of the biggest stars in
Speaker 1: the country. His TV show reached millions, He appeared in
Speaker 1: countless movies, scored numerous top ten hits, and once hosted
Speaker 1: Frank Sinatra as a favor to help Frank get his
Speaker 1: career going again. But Spade Cooley had no heart. Spade
Speaker 1: Cooley cared only about Spade Coolie. He was mean, jealous, abusive,
Speaker 1: and almost totally driven by the deep seated insecurity that
Speaker 1: he wasn't good enough for any of the women in
Speaker 1: his life, a fear that in the end proved to
Speaker 1: be tragic for both him and his family. But Spade
Speaker 1: Coolie made great music. That music you heard at the
Speaker 1: top of the show that wasn't great music. That was
Speaker 1: a preset loop from my melotron called slow Waltz Guitar
Speaker 1: Low MK two. I played you that loop because I
Speaker 1: can't afford the license for wedding bell blues by the
Speaker 1: Fifth Dimension, And why would I play you that specific
Speaker 1: slice of champagne soul infused cheese? Could I afford it?
Speaker 1: Because that was the number one song in America on
Speaker 1: November twenty third, nineteen sixty nine. And that was the
Speaker 1: day that the Heartless Spade Coolie stepped out on stage
Speaker 1: for the last time. On this the final episode of
Speaker 1: season two of Disgraceland, Psychopathic Jealousy, Champagne soul, slow waltz
Speaker 1: and guitars, and the King of Western Swing, the Heartless
Speaker 1: Spade Coolie. I'm Jake Brennan and miss Graceland. You gotta
Speaker 1: shake your hips and snap your fingers too, move them shoulders.
Speaker 1: Of course, moving them shoulders was a ruse to force
Speaker 1: her to shimmy your breast. She was eighteen and beautiful, shy,
Speaker 1: though not quite jailbait, but quite positively a cock Tea's
Speaker 1: Spade Coolie didn't care yet. He dragged on his cigarette,
Speaker 1: filled his lungs, leaned back in his office chair and
Speaker 1: studied this fine little thing in front of him. Yeah,
Speaker 1: she'd do, he thought she'd be able to cut it
Speaker 1: in his vand and if not no sweat, he had
Speaker 1: swayed with his audience. They'd endure a prude singer on
Speaker 1: stage for a minute or so, so long as she
Speaker 1: looked like this, and the potential upside for Spade was
Speaker 1: too much not to risk. And Peggy Sue was gorgeous
Speaker 1: as she could sing. But could she pull it all together?
Speaker 1: And could Spade put her in the sack? He wondered,
Speaker 1: Not tonight, not on the day of her audition. The
Speaker 1: man had a heart, after all, he wasn't an animal,
Speaker 1: for Christ's sakes. So Spade decided to give her the
Speaker 1: gig and give her some time before taking what he
Speaker 1: now viewed as rightfully his. And he could wait at
Speaker 1: least until tomorrow. Spade's mind wandered back to this day
Speaker 1: in nineteen forty five, while on the stand in nineteen
Speaker 1: sixty one, on trial for his life at age fifty
Speaker 1: four for the murder of his thirty six year old wife,
Speaker 1: Ella May Cooley. Why as mine did this? He had
Speaker 1: no idea. Ever since his dick got hard. He had
Speaker 1: this thing where certain women from his life, some inconsequential,
Speaker 1: others very consequential, would just pop into his head out
Speaker 1: of nowhere. And right now, Peggy Sue from back in
Speaker 1: his days at the Santa Monica Ballroom was a welcome distraction,
Speaker 1: far more interesting than the prosecutor in the ten dollars
Speaker 1: suit grilling him in this dusty Baker's field court. Those
Speaker 1: are the days. Spade hadn't quite gripped life by the
Speaker 1: balls full fistedly yet, but he was well on his
Speaker 1: way to tightening his grip. He had a bonafide smash
Speaker 1: hit shame on You, and was packing them in weekly
Speaker 1: out on the pier and broadcasting his brand of highly
Speaker 1: popular Western swing music to Holmes all over southern California
Speaker 1: on KWLA, and people were driving from miles around in
Speaker 1: this era of gas rationing to see him play. And
Speaker 1: this was nineteen forty five. World War Two wasn't quite
Speaker 1: over yet, but little miss Peggy Sue refused to shake
Speaker 1: her hips. Spade, impatient with a cigarette hanging from his lips,
Speaker 1: quickly rose up from behind his desk and over to
Speaker 1: within an inch of Peggy Sue's face. She could smell
Speaker 1: hiss atrocious breath. He vibed on the smell of her
Speaker 1: cheap candy store perfume, and before anything even happened. She
Speaker 1: felt the shame swell within her. Spade felt this dick
Speaker 1: start to chub up. He put both his hands on
Speaker 1: her hips and forced them to sway gently, first to
Speaker 1: the left and then to the right, and Peggy Sue
Speaker 1: looked up at him blankly, unsure of what she should do.
Speaker 1: She needed this gig bad, but she was scared. And
Speaker 1: this man, he was the local celebrity. He could pay
Speaker 1: her more in a month than she'd earn out on
Speaker 1: the boardwalk behind a counter in a year. But he
Speaker 1: was a mean looking bastard. Short, slick back hair, black
Speaker 1: eyes like oil slicks. They shined but offered no reflection,
Speaker 1: still and lifeless. Her fear now replaced her shame. You see,
Speaker 1: Peggy Sue, you gotta move a little, give the men
Speaker 1: in the audience something to think about when they get
Speaker 1: home with their tired old wives. He smiled incredibly, it
Speaker 1: seemed to her with justice upper lip, and Peggy Sue
Speaker 1: nodded in fear. Spade took it for obedience, And when
Speaker 1: she lowered her eyes, Spade swore she was gesturing to
Speaker 1: her breast. He just knew that under that raggedy wool
Speaker 1: sweater there was a body to beat the band, and
Speaker 1: Spade couldn't wait to get his hands all over it.
Speaker 1: He suspected she was just the type to give it
Speaker 1: out willy nilly to the soldiers on leave. In Spade's estimation, gutless,
Speaker 1: square jawed ex letterman who'd rather ship off overseas to
Speaker 1: shoot at faceless chips and take their chances shooting the
Speaker 1: moon and stars all at once, as Spade had been
Speaker 1: doing since he first came to Hollywood back in the thirties.
Speaker 1: Spade knew their kind. Every weekend while on shore leave,
Speaker 1: they'd fill his dance hall, and right now one of
Speaker 1: them was back home in Fresno filling his ex wife
Speaker 1: with what Spade suspected was a very sizable small town cock. Fuck.
Speaker 1: This tomorrow was too long away. Spade turned his head,
Speaker 1: spit out his smoke, and smashed his slimy lips into
Speaker 1: Peggy sws. She kept her mouth shut and pulled back.
Speaker 1: Spade used his weight to push her up against the wall.
Speaker 1: His hands were all over, first on the outside of
Speaker 1: her sweater and then up and under her skirt, feeling
Speaker 1: for her panties. She squirmed, tried pushing him back. She
Speaker 1: could feel his penis now hard and pressing up against
Speaker 1: her belly. As she was repulsed but relieved at its
Speaker 1: size or lack thereof, the Spade slid his hand around
Speaker 1: to the backside of her panties, and in that motion
Speaker 1: Peggy Su bit down on his lip hard. Spade pulled
Speaker 1: back and with a quick pain shocked but aroused even further,
Speaker 1: and in that instant Peggy Sue slid up from between Spade,
Speaker 1: Coolie and the wall and made her break for the door.
Speaker 1: The thought of this event from his past still excited
Speaker 1: him even here in the distraction of the courtroom and
Speaker 1: to the crowd in the court, Spade appeared heartless. It
Speaker 1: had little to do with his demeanor or looks, and
Speaker 1: everything to do with the gruesome charge that this one
Speaker 1: time television star had tortured and murdered his wife in
Speaker 1: front of her teenage daughter. The celebrity and lurid details
Speaker 1: made for sensational and damning headlines, and what they did
Speaker 1: to one's imagination. It was too much innocent before being
Speaker 1: proven guilty was a farce, and this was the trial
Speaker 1: of the century, the biggest thing since Fatty Arabuckle. This
Speaker 1: was pre JFK. Assassination pre manson murders, and it was
Speaker 1: impossible to see Spade Cooley for anything other than what
Speaker 1: he was, a murderous creep. But that didn't stop Spade
Speaker 1: from trying to sway the jury's opinion. He testified that
Speaker 1: his wife was a horror who was enraptured by a
Speaker 1: free love sex cult, and that she had admitted to
Speaker 1: Spade at least to sleeping with two men at a
Speaker 1: time as part of her duties and said cult, and
Speaker 1: perhaps even more damning to Spade, his wife was rumored
Speaker 1: to who have been sleeping with Spade's mentor and sometime rival,
Speaker 1: Roy Rogers, the Singing Cowboy. It wasn't like Lma at all,
Speaker 1: Spade testified, it was though she was an animal. Mister Cooley,
Speaker 1: do you own any animals? No, sir, but I've used
Speaker 1: them in my act dogs To be precise, I love animals, sir.
Speaker 1: Would you ever hurt an animal? No, sir. I hardly
Speaker 1: eat any meat, some bacon every now and them, and
Speaker 1: not much meat at all. Can't stand the thought of
Speaker 1: hurting animals, not even a mouse. The main difference between
Speaker 1: psychopaths and sociopaths is a lack of empathy for fellow humans.
Speaker 1: Sociopaths can develop long lasting family relationships and live out
Speaker 1: their antisocial lifestyles, and this is in part because of
Speaker 1: their capacity to feel for other humans to experience guilt. Psychopaths,
Speaker 1: on the other hand, well, the general belief is that
Speaker 1: they do not feel guilt, and this is how they
Speaker 1: are able to torture and kill and feel nothing. And they
Speaker 1: are heartless. And a strange thing about psychopaths is their
Speaker 1: love of animals, despite their ability to torture them, particularly
Speaker 1: at a young age. Psychopaths see in animals unconditional love
Speaker 1: that humans cannot offer them, so they developed strong bonds
Speaker 1: of love and affection with animals and pets. And Spade
Speaker 1: Koolei loved animals, but deep down he hated and feared women.
Speaker 1: He hated the power they had over him, the ability
Speaker 1: they had to send his blood boiling with jealousy. And
Speaker 1: when the cops came knocking the afternoon after the incident
Speaker 1: with Peggy Sue, Spade was semi shocked. Surely they can
Speaker 1: understand Spade Cooley was an important man around town and
Speaker 1: women threw themselves at him. The cops ran through Peggy
Speaker 1: Sue's assault allegation as if it were a minor formality.
Speaker 1: Spade assured them he didn't rape her. He couldn't rape her.
Speaker 1: She was only eighteen, he was old enough to be
Speaker 1: her daddy. Plus he loved the little birds who came
Speaker 1: to his shows. In the end, it was his word
Speaker 1: against hers. He said she said. In other words, what
Speaker 1: he said was bond to what she said wasn't to
Speaker 1: be believed. Spade gave an official statement to the police
Speaker 1: and after a minute go back to the business of
Speaker 1: being Spade COOLi. And that was that, and Peggy Sou
Speaker 1: kept her virginia. He found the courage to put Spade
Speaker 1: Coolie in the rear view and proceeded down the path
Speaker 1: of building a career at a business overpopulated with perverts
Speaker 1: and controlled by lecherous creeps, show business. Peggy Sue had
Speaker 1: the last laugh, though, when years later she appeared on
Speaker 1: Lawrence Welk a man Spade Cooley hated and saw us
Speaker 1: partly responsible for his slide and popularity in the entertainment world.
Speaker 1: Spade was jealous of wealth success. Spade was jealous of
Speaker 1: most men who had anything he perceived himself to be.
Speaker 1: Without Spade Cooley's jealous streak ran a mile long, but
Speaker 1: fueled him. At first, he was jealous of his buddy
Speaker 1: Roy Rogers' career, and so he took his own swing
Speaker 1: at showbiz. And then he was jealous of his band leader,
Speaker 1: Jimmy Wakeley, so he took his own swing at being
Speaker 1: a band leader. And since his high school days as
Speaker 1: a short, little runt, he had always been jealous of
Speaker 1: the tall All American types with the broad shoulders who
Speaker 1: threw the football around in the yard after school and
Speaker 1: threw the cheerleaders around in the back seats of their
Speaker 1: daddy's cars on weekends. So he took swing at eighteen
Speaker 1: year old Peggy Sue when he saw the opportunity sitting
Speaker 1: on the stand. Now, Spade couldn't get Peggy Sue out
Speaker 1: of his mind. She was one of the few sexual
Speaker 1: conquests that went unconquered, and because of this, she occupied
Speaker 1: a special place in Spade's memory bank. He fantasized about her,
Speaker 1: frequently not having sex with him, instead having sex with
Speaker 1: Ned Rasmussen, the hometown boy next door who stole his
Speaker 1: wife away while he was out on the road with
Speaker 1: the West Texas Sons of the sage brush, trying to
Speaker 1: make a buck to feed his family. Ned had with Spade,
Speaker 1: had a physical appeal and the respect and only a
Speaker 1: tall man could command immediately upon entering a room, and
Speaker 1: Spade knew, he just knew that Ned was just the
Speaker 1: type of no talent, empty letter sweater wearing ship bird
Speaker 1: that Peggy Sue gave it out to Willy Nilly, and
Speaker 1: the thought of the two of them going at it
Speaker 1: it got Spade's blood pumping fast. His heart if that
Speaker 1: was indeed heart beat like a Jean Coopa snare wow.
Speaker 1: On the stand, Spade could hear voices coming at him.
Speaker 1: They were distant, underwater sounding. He could no longer see
Speaker 1: the defense attorney pitching softball questions at him, just Ned
Speaker 1: rest mus him with his perfectly quaffed hair, leering down
Speaker 1: at him from behind Peggy sou as he thrust his
Speaker 1: ample cock into the beautiful young virgin who denied him
Speaker 1: Spade COOLi, the king of Western Swing. Spade swore Ned
Speaker 1: that smug prick and just smiled at him, and Peggy
Speaker 1: Sue was panting. It was pleasure and pain all at once.
Speaker 1: Spade's heart felt like he was going to bust out.
Speaker 1: Of his chest, run out into the courthouse, hauled to
Speaker 1: a pay phone, and call the fire department to come
Speaker 1: throw cold water on the deeply hot and passionate sex
Speaker 1: scene playing out in the courtroom. In Spade's imagination, Spade
Speaker 1: felt his eyes burn and then widen. His lips started
Speaker 1: to pull apart, and the cigarette he'd been smoking hung
Speaker 1: stuck to his bottom. Lip smoke trailed to the rickety
Speaker 1: court room ceiling fan. The prosecutor grew concerned, as did
Speaker 1: the judge, turn towards Spade. Mister Cooley, mister Cooley, are
Speaker 1: you all right? Spade smacked his chest with his right hand,
Speaker 1: and the strange and beautied tone said my heart, And
Speaker 1: with that he fell over in his chair and passed out.
Speaker 1: We'll be right back after this, word, word word. The
Speaker 1: electro cardiogram administered to Spade after his heart attack showed
Speaker 1: that well, it wasn't really a heart attack, after all.
Speaker 1: It's tough to have a heart attack when you're heartless.
Speaker 1: What it was was most likely a panic attack either way. Spade, Coolie,
Speaker 1: the so called king of Western Swing, the genius fiddle
Speaker 1: player and showman who packed them in up and down
Speaker 1: the Southern California Coast, who'd recorded a number one hit
Speaker 1: and had a string of top ten singles, appeared in
Speaker 1: thirty eight thirty eight Westerns, hosted his own nationally syndicated
Speaker 1: television variety show, won two Emmys, and even once hosted
Speaker 1: Frank Sinatra. That Spade coolie, the same Spade coolie who
Speaker 1: built the sprawling Willow Springs ranch in the desert for
Speaker 1: his wife and kids, was now back in the Kerran
Speaker 1: County courtroom, his hollow eyes darting every which way, trying
Speaker 1: to avoid what was taking place. On the stand, his
Speaker 1: fourteen year old daughter, Melody, testifying against him. She spoke softly,
Speaker 1: Spade gave me three minutes, and then he started counting.
Speaker 1: You have two minutes left. You're one man. Tim Zuo,
Speaker 1: who was Spade the prosecutor, asked, my father, did you
Speaker 1: ever call him daddy? Yes, sir, When did you stop
Speaker 1: calling him daddy when he killed my mother? The story,
Speaker 1: as explained by his daughter was familiar to Spade, but
Speaker 1: not in a subjective way. Melody's recounting jived with Spade's memory,
Speaker 1: but it was as if he was remembering someone else
Speaker 1: committing the crime. Spade could remember the rage. He still
Speaker 1: felt it. He knew Lma had been fucking around on him,
Speaker 1: first with Roy Rogers, that prick, and then with her
Speaker 1: two queer friends she'd been hanging out with on weekends. Gay. Yeah,
Speaker 1: maybe Devian's definitely, and Lma was a Devian as well.
Speaker 1: It was in her nature, just like it was with
Speaker 1: his ex wife, and just like it was with that
Speaker 1: cock TAA's peggy su women. They were all the same,
Speaker 1: Spade thought Lma. She had the nerve to not only
Speaker 1: cheat on but then went to leave him for what
Speaker 1: because he called her on her bullshit, because he knocked
Speaker 1: her around a little to keep her in line. She
Speaker 1: was weak, Spade thought, nowhere near as tough as Benita,
Speaker 1: the side piece he kept down in Santa Monica, or Harriet,
Speaker 1: the tough Jewish scenistress who'd shown him around Hollywood back
Speaker 1: in the day. Lma was weak minded and disloyal. Spade
Speaker 1: couldn't just let her mess around on him. Sure, his
Speaker 1: career might not have been what it once was. Western
Speaker 1: Swing might have gone out of fashion, the TV show
Speaker 1: might have been canceled, But Spade had plans the amusement
Speaker 1: park he was building out in the desert was gonna
Speaker 1: put Willow Springs in the map and make it the
Speaker 1: palm Springs of Central California. Spade was a big man
Speaker 1: now as an entertainer, but he'd soon be even a
Speaker 1: bigger man as a developer. And what if someone heard
Speaker 1: about Lma and what she was up to. It was
Speaker 1: bad enough for the rumors about Roy Rogers, but some
Speaker 1: queer from the desert, and then she was gonna leave. No,
Speaker 1: of course, Lma Cooley hadn't slept with any of these men.
Speaker 1: But Spade couldn't shake the jealousy. It had ruled him
Speaker 1: ever since adolescence. Spade thought back to that night Lma
Speaker 1: threatened divorced for the last time, and once she told
Speaker 1: Melody to pack her bags and they were leaving. Then
Speaker 1: and there, Spade felt his head ignite with fire. He
Speaker 1: could feel the rockets explode in his skull. The jealousy,
Speaker 1: it was all consuming. He raged went blind. He came
Speaker 1: to with the sight of his daughter in his bedroom doorway.
Speaker 1: He looked down at his pants and it was chest.
Speaker 1: There was blood all over him, someone else's. He grabbed
Speaker 1: his daughter by the hair, pulling her through the master's
Speaker 1: suites bedroom and into the bathroom. Come in here. I
Speaker 1: want you to see your stupid mother there on the
Speaker 1: bathroom floor, lying in the shower, naked and bloodied, with
Speaker 1: the water raining down on her, flushing her blood down
Speaker 1: the drain as quickly as it exited her wounds. Was
Speaker 1: what was left of Melody's mother and Spade's wife, LM. Cooley.
Speaker 1: Spade had ripped her hair out of her head by
Speaker 1: the fistful before pummeling her with those same fists. Hold up.
Speaker 1: This story is about to get very graphic, in very dark,
Speaker 1: so much so that it was hard for me to
Speaker 1: write and even harder for me to voice. If graphic
Speaker 1: depictions of murder and physical abuse turn you off, then
Speaker 1: I urge you to skip ahead. About sixty seconds, Spade
Speaker 1: pounced on top of Lma, held her down, whispered into
Speaker 1: her ear, this is the last fuck of your life,
Speaker 1: and then proceeded Raper. And when he was done, he
Speaker 1: shoved her into the shower to clean herself up. But
Speaker 1: that wouldn't do. She'd be cleaned up in no time
Speaker 1: and out again, parading herself all around town. Fuck that Spaded.
Speaker 1: To make her undesirable to all men. He grabbed the
Speaker 1: broom from behind the toilet, held her down to the
Speaker 1: bathroom floor, and did the unthinkable, rammed it repeatedly up
Speaker 1: and into her. When he saw the mess he'd made,
Speaker 1: he kicked the lifeless Lma repeatedly, and the belly masked
Speaker 1: the damage he'd done with the broom handle. Now an
Speaker 1: hour or so later, he sat at the edge of
Speaker 1: his bed while his daughter surveyed the damage. Come here, baby,
Speaker 1: His daughter stood still in the doorway, frozen by the
Speaker 1: side of her nearly beaten to death. Mother, you hurt
Speaker 1: your father. Petrified, Melody joined Spade on the bed. The
Speaker 1: Spade pulled her onto his lap. She could smell the
Speaker 1: whiskey on his breath. These days, it was rare. She didn't.
Speaker 1: He rubbed her shoulder and then mashed his slimy lips
Speaker 1: into his daughter's and crammed his tongue down her throat.
Speaker 1: All he could think about were the football players at
Speaker 1: her school, with their broad shoulders and their big cocks,
Speaker 1: wanting in on what was rightfully his. His daughter. Melody
Speaker 1: fought him off. In his drunken state. He wasn't much
Speaker 1: of a match. Melody split. Spade pulled his wounded wife
Speaker 1: from a shower and tucked her into their bag. He
Speaker 1: waited four hours before calling in was by the time
Speaker 1: they arrived at the emergency room, Elimee Cooley had succumb
Speaker 1: to her wounds and died. The judge leaned forward in
Speaker 1: his chair after thanking the ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
Speaker 1: and then addressed the rest of his court. It is
Speaker 1: its judgment of this court that you, Donald Clyde Cooley,
Speaker 1: aka Spade Cooley, be committed to the state prison for
Speaker 1: life for the crime for which you have been convicted,
Speaker 1: and that you'd be remanded custody of the Sheriff of
Speaker 1: this county for delivery without further delay. Spade Cooley was
Speaker 1: led out of the courtroom into a state mental hospital,
Speaker 1: where he didn't exactly serve hard time. His supposed heart
Speaker 1: troubles and his failed insanity plea and his celebrity status,
Speaker 1: it was reasons were enough for him to do his
Speaker 1: time in a private hospital room rather than an actual
Speaker 1: jail cell. Some suspect that his old friend from back
Speaker 1: in his Hollywood days, the new governor of California, the
Speaker 1: one time actor Ronald Reagan, had something to do with
Speaker 1: his cushy prison digs, and it was with Reagan's eventual
Speaker 1: support seven years later that Spade Cooley was granted parole
Speaker 1: to begin February nineteen seventy, meaning Spade would be serving
Speaker 1: a total of eight years for the murder and rape
Speaker 1: of his wife. In the meantime, he was to be
Speaker 1: granted a set seventy two hour furlough to perform a
Speaker 1: benefit concert for the Deputy Sheriff's Association at the Oakland Auditorium.
Speaker 1: It was one of those traveling Grand Old Opry spectaculars.
Speaker 1: Spade took the stage on November twenty ninth, nineteen sixty nine.
Speaker 1: He grabbed his biddle and led the band through a
Speaker 1: hell fire version of his hit Shame On You. The
Speaker 1: crowd of three thousand Lahmen went ape ship for Spade,
Speaker 1: cooling the bona fide celebrity on stage, their very own
Speaker 1: prisoner there to entertain them for their benefit. Spade killed
Speaker 1: after a set. He asked the waiting paroleman in the
Speaker 1: wings if it would be all right for him to
Speaker 1: have a minute alone in his dressing room. The moment
Speaker 1: had clearly affected Spade. Coolie, his first time on stage,
Speaker 1: his first time out of prison in years, and the
Speaker 1: reception pure love from the audience. Spade was emotional. The
Speaker 1: parman gave them the Oka head backstage in cool out
Speaker 1: for a second before we go back to prison, Spade
Speaker 1: Cooley walked into his dressing room and closed the door.
Speaker 1: He thought of Lama, her body naked in the shower,
Speaker 1: a mangled mess of a woman who drove him crazy
Speaker 1: and in his estimation, got what was coming to her.
Speaker 1: His anger flashed, the rage returned, and then his breath
Speaker 1: quickened in his chest caved in with pain. The heart
Speaker 1: attack came on him quick. He fell faced down and
Speaker 1: died instantly. His body lied on the dressing room floor, heartless.
Speaker 1: I'm Jake Brennan in this this Disgraceland. Disgraceland was created
Speaker 1: by Yours Truly and is produced in part adership with
Speaker 1: double Elvis. Credits for this episode can be found on
Speaker 1: the show notes page at disgracelampod dot com. If you're
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