Speaker 1: Thirteen days of Halloween is from Grimm and mild blumhouse
Speaker 1: and I heeart. Three D audio headphones recommended. Listener discretion advised.
Speaker 1: M welcome to DOTTY's. Grab a seat anywhere. Thank you.
Speaker 1: You're gonna want coffee. Yes, to to please. I'll put
Speaker 1: on a pot. It seems Nice. M Hm HMM. What?
Speaker 1: We're not going to order anything here. If you're hungry,
Speaker 1: we can find food elsewhere. That's fine. Take a look
Speaker 1: at the Cook Oh, that's Gus. No matter what our
Speaker 1: waitress says, don't trust his cooking. Before he came here
Speaker 1: he was a well renowned chef. People came from all
Speaker 1: over to eat his food. He had quite the following,
Speaker 1: a series of cookbooks, interviews with all the major papers,
Speaker 1: his own line of Pasta sauces. He was well on
Speaker 1: his way to being a very wealthy chef. What happened? Well,
Speaker 1: he moved into a very large house in a very
Speaker 1: fancy neighborhood. His neighbors loved him. He threw lavish parties,
Speaker 1: large barbecues, elaborate brunches. You know. His Christmas parties were legendary,
Speaker 1: so I've heard, and come Halloween there was always a
Speaker 1: flood of costume children outside of his door. You See,
Speaker 1: he made his own confections, all kinds, but a toddry
Speaker 1: scandal at one of his restaurants called something of a
Speaker 1: fall from grace and he ended up having to shutter
Speaker 1: his doors. After that, it was a domino effect. His
Speaker 1: cookbooks quit selling, he lost his agent, he became a
Speaker 1: pariah and with his good fortune went his mind. He
Speaker 1: became para, knowing that his neighbors were whispering behind his back.
Speaker 1: He quit throwing parties, no more brunches, barbecues. His house
Speaker 1: went dark, except for Halloween. For Halloween he decorated lavishly.
Speaker 1: The neighborhood children were overjoyed once more. They lined up
Speaker 1: to receive his famous candies, and one by one they
Speaker 1: grew violently ill. By midnight, dozens of children in the ER,
Speaker 1: their mouths shredded by the razor blade he'd placed in
Speaker 1: the candy. When the authorities went to get him, he
Speaker 1: was gone, on the run the road. Let him here.
Speaker 1: Does everyone know this? They do. Why don't they arrest him?
Speaker 1: The chief loves his CORNED BEEF HASH H my guy
Speaker 1: said he is an excellent chef. Hello mother, hello, here's
Speaker 1: your coffee. WHO's your friend? Someone I picked up on
Speaker 1: the beach? You're not from around here. You have something
Speaker 1: on your mind. I can tell. I can always tell,
Speaker 1: and if I s laden, I know that. Look, it's okay.
Speaker 1: Take a moment to glance over the menu first, then
Speaker 1: we'll talk. Pay No attention to us over there at
Speaker 1: the girl. He hates being here, we all do. But
Speaker 1: don't worry, the food is fine, not like those fancy
Speaker 1: dinner chains, but it's good, except for the desserts. Please
Speaker 1: don't order Pie. Okay, for the love of all that's
Speaker 1: good and holly, do not order the hi. Sorry, it's
Speaker 1: been a long shift. He really long shift. My aunt
Speaker 1: was a waitress once, started out in a little place
Speaker 1: just like this one. She also made pies. For long
Speaker 1: everyone wanted them. Within a year she quit and opened
Speaker 1: her own shop. Orders came in from everywhere. Sooner pies
Speaker 1: were in stores and restaurants across the country. Yet she
Speaker 1: still lived in her little cottage. Sure, she fixed it
Speaker 1: up some, but she insisted on saving every dollar, even
Speaker 1: though she had a lot of money. She never married
Speaker 1: and had no kids. That bakery in those pies were
Speaker 1: her whole life anyway. Just don't order the Pie. Okay,
Speaker 1: we'll touch you about pie. Now about your problem. Well,
Speaker 1: of course I know, honey. That secret of yours is
Speaker 1: juicier than dust as burgers. Well, most things are, but
Speaker 1: I digress. If you don't confess, you can't leave, not
Speaker 1: the diner but dire brook. Everyone else passes right through.
Speaker 1: No one stays here, not willingly, especially not after sunset.
Speaker 1: Oh sure, you might think you're just visiting some old
Speaker 1: time picture postcard New England fishing town, pretty if you
Speaker 1: like gray skies and salty air. It's like a lot
Speaker 1: of places, small towns that draw you in with quaint
Speaker 1: shops that take you back to a quieter, less hurried time.
Speaker 1: And that's how it happens. Once the sun sets, fog
Speaker 1: rolls in from the woods, bringing all sorts of things
Speaker 1: with it. It's important that you tell us what you
Speaker 1: did before then I will be stuck here forever. Of
Speaker 1: course I tried to leave. I tried walking, driving, hitchhiking.
Speaker 1: Nothing worked. I'd get close to the town limits in blackout,
Speaker 1: poof then I'd wake up in another area of direbrook.
Speaker 1: Some hearts are worth some others, and after a while
Speaker 1: I quit trying this place. It's not normal. There are
Speaker 1: lots of telephone lines, but they don't work, as you've noticed.
Speaker 1: There's no cell phone reception either, and no Internet. Mail
Speaker 1: never leaves the post office and nothing comes in. I've
Speaker 1: given notes to people passing through and the hopes I'll
Speaker 1: be rescued, but nothing comes of it. I think people
Speaker 1: forget the moment they leave town. I don't know what
Speaker 1: happens to the notes, but I know you did something
Speaker 1: we all do. A couple sharing a peach coller in
Speaker 1: the booth by the window, the man eating Blueberry Pie
Speaker 1: at the counter who keeps glancing your way. heally eats
Speaker 1: blueberry and when he smiles, the stains on those teeth
Speaker 1: of his anyway, keeping quiet, eh. I did too, but
Speaker 1: she's saw right through me, same as I do you.
Speaker 1: I stopped in for lunch, sat in that booth right
Speaker 1: over there, and I noticed her right away, though I
Speaker 1: can't say why. Maybe because her stormy gray hair and
Speaker 1: eyes matched the town's mood. Had just taken a sip
Speaker 1: of coffee when she slid onto the seat across from me,
Speaker 1: but maybe she was a grifter wanted me to pay
Speaker 1: her tab. There are plenty of her table, so I
Speaker 1: started to slide out of the booth when she said
Speaker 1: your aunt made the best pies. Then she leaned forward
Speaker 1: and whispered. Go ahead, tell me what you did. I
Speaker 1: told myself she was crazy, kind of like what you're
Speaker 1: thinking right now, except you're a little scared too, honey.
Speaker 1: We're all hiding something that you I can see it
Speaker 1: on your face. I Hook in your eyes and I
Speaker 1: might as well be looking into a mirror. You're not
Speaker 1: going to talk, are you fine? Then maybe if I
Speaker 1: go first. My aunt and I went hiking. Whenever she
Speaker 1: wasn't working yourself to death, she'd picked certain things to
Speaker 1: or salads or stews. She'd point out which mushrooms, leaves
Speaker 1: or berries were safety eat and others that I kill
Speaker 1: you whatever seemed like too much of a risk to
Speaker 1: me if I want to produce. I went to the
Speaker 1: store one night. I stopped by for dinner, but she
Speaker 1: didn't answer the door or the phone. I had a
Speaker 1: key and let myself in. I found her on the
Speaker 1: living room floor, unable to move. Her eyes bulged from
Speaker 1: her pale face and she gasped for air over and over.
Speaker 1: I dial line win one. Paramedics didn't arrive in time.
Speaker 1: I was very cooperative. Told them she had a heart condition.
Speaker 1: I also told them she spent the morning foraging for
Speaker 1: delicacies to include in our dinner. Did you know that
Speaker 1: water him luck looks like something of Flora's uses. insteadly, though,
Speaker 1: they found pieces of it in the bowl of salade
Speaker 1: she had made. As our only family, I inherited everything.
Speaker 1: I sold it all, including the company that I bought
Speaker 1: a numerouscedes and headed east new start new life. I
Speaker 1: planned on doing all the living my aunt never did.
Speaker 1: Then I stopped here. The woman with the gray hair said,
Speaker 1: confess or you'll spend your life in hell. Well, I
Speaker 1: thought the same as you. I'd worry about consequences after
Speaker 1: I died. Hindsight right. Okay, I've got to tell you something.
Speaker 1: I have this theory. I think hell has been on
Speaker 1: earth all this time, hiding in plain sight, and it'll
Speaker 1: pass through towns where you stopped to fill the gas tanker,
Speaker 1: pee or maybe grab something to eat. TIREBROOK is one
Speaker 1: of those places. Look, I don't and everyone sure you
Speaker 1: can do what I did, do a little dine and
Speaker 1: dash without the dining part, but you're not just going
Speaker 1: to be able to leave here. First Time I tried
Speaker 1: and Mer say he's got a flat about a mile
Speaker 1: from here. Coincidence right under my breath. I admitted that.
Speaker 1: When I found my aunt, I sat on the floor
Speaker 1: for a while before calling there I confessed, sort of,
Speaker 1: not that I believed that woman, but muttering it couldn't hurt.
Speaker 1: And I tried calling for a roadside assistance and myself
Speaker 1: wouldn't work. I told the truth, even if no one
Speaker 1: heard me, but I hadn't told all of it. So
Speaker 1: I made another roadside confession. I hid my aunt's cell phone.
Speaker 1: M They might ask why I'd hid her phone after
Speaker 1: we got back from hiking. I wouldn't have told you
Speaker 1: the truth. Not then I tried hitchhiking out of town.
Speaker 1: Next I thought I might make it when I saw
Speaker 1: the sign that read leaving dire rock, see you soon.
Speaker 1: That's what I noticed. What lady on the sign? Nothing,
Speaker 1: no trees, no road, just a bank of thick fog.
Speaker 1: Like the other times, I blocked out and woke up
Speaker 1: alone in the woods. You don't want to know what's
Speaker 1: in the woods. I ran, just ran. My Aunt's last
Speaker 1: words echoed in my head, or had to come from
Speaker 1: the fog, I know. I broke down and told the truth.
Speaker 1: I picked water and lock leaves and mixed them with
Speaker 1: edible plants she put in her basket. She always had
Speaker 1: salad for lunch the boys and wouldn't take long. But
Speaker 1: it wouldn't do if she called for help, so I
Speaker 1: hit her phone. The only way out of town was
Speaker 1: to confess. I screamed it to the heavens. Yes, I
Speaker 1: did it. I poisoned to my aunt. I killed her
Speaker 1: and fog lifted and I made it back to the road.
Speaker 1: But my confession had come too late. Sun had already said.
Speaker 1: Now I'm here for who knows how long years, the
Speaker 1: rest of my natural life, all of eternity, serving up
Speaker 1: hamburgers and shakes instead of lifting it up out of
Speaker 1: Beach House. And the worst part, regulars come and ask
Speaker 1: for Pie her pies day in and day out. Hell
Speaker 1: is right here on earth. If you don't confess by dark,
Speaker 1: you'll be stuck in dire room too forever. So what'll
Speaker 1: it be? From the menu? Of course, while you're wait
Speaker 1: for your order, we'll talk. Don't be shy, confess. It's
Speaker 1: good for the soul. It's just the coffee for us.
Speaker 1: Thank you suit yourself, but you're missing out. This is
Speaker 1: a hell of a cook. He scorn me. Fashion is
Speaker 1: famous around here, but thank you. No, all right, hon
Speaker 1: here's your check. Have a great day now, and just
Speaker 1: says confess. Well, she'll just have to settle for money,
Speaker 1: won't she? No, let's drink our coffee as we walk.
Speaker 1: It will warm your bones faster that way. Are we
Speaker 1: well to take the monks? They always make their way back.
Speaker 1: Come on, you too, take care now, father blessed. Everything
Speaker 1: returns to him. And Look, the wind off the water
Speaker 1: has blown the morning fog away. The sunlight is so
Speaker 1: pale at this time of year, like it barely has
Speaker 1: the energy to shine. Shall we there's still so much
Speaker 1: to see and the doctor to visit. Yes, excellent, onward, upward. Yeah, tomorrow,
Speaker 1: on thirteen days of Halloween, the church, the net stay
Speaker 1: full of fish, of crowd and Scroop, not simply because
Speaker 1: they have passed on into the sea, but because of
Speaker 1: the offerings I leave to dry here, because of the
Speaker 1: good work I am pledged to give. Every cycle, every
Speaker 1: new moon, I write our stories here on the stones,
Speaker 1: just as generations of pastors have before. We have smoothed
Speaker 1: these walls with whale fat and warm blood were clean
Speaker 1: with salt from the sea. My family tree has taken
Speaker 1: moves here beneath the foundation of this church. We've always
Speaker 1: been here, in the space between the people and the deep.
Speaker 1: Thirteen days of Halloween. The Diner, starring Kathy Na, Jimmy,
Speaker 1: Bethany and and and Adrian Epley, written by Michelle Mudo
Speaker 1: with additional material by Nicholas Takowski. Sound Design and mixing
Speaker 1: by Josh Thine, engineering by violent Ferton, DUBWAY STUDIOS NEW YORK.
Speaker 1: Casting by Jessica Losa. Created by Matt Frederick and Alex Williams,
Speaker 1: with executive producer Aaron Manky. A production of I heart radio,
Speaker 1: grim and mild and BLUMHOUSE television.