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“Hello and welcome to "Scare You to Sleep." I'm your host Shelby Novak and I'm here to read you.”
A bedtime story. This week we've got another story by returning author to the show, John Sachs. Before we start the story though, I really wanted to point you in the direction of
John's own amazing podcast, "Sadistic." "Sadistic" is a cinematic original horror podcast delivering
short form immersive nightmares for fans of psychological horror, supernatural suspense, sci-fi terror, thriller podcasts, and dark audio drama. Created, written, edited, and produced by John Sachs. The series blends the atmospheric dread of John Carpenter with the character
“driven unease of Stephen King, while carving out a bold voice all its own. From UFO encounters”
and alien visitations, two deep sea monsters haunted houses, artificial intelligence gone wrong, unsettling children, folklore, true crime obsession, serial killers, and the quiet horror of every day life. "Sadistic" explores fear in all its forms, cosmic, technological, domestic, and deeply human, while many episodes function as gripping standalone scary stories, and interconnected mythology unfolds beneath the surface. Characters reappear,
timelines overlap, hidden Easter eggs and recurring threads reward attentive listeners, transforming the series into a layered horror universe built for binge listening and fan theories,
elevated by powerful voice performances and meticulous sound design, every episode reflects John Sachs,
boundless love for storytelling, and his mission to deliver genuine scares could tharsus and wicked fun for horror fans everywhere, whether you're searching for new horror podcasts, creepy stories, supernatural thrillers sci-fi horror, haunted house tales, or interconnected anthology storytelling. "Sadistic" is waiting for you, so with all that said, tonight John has for us, "Herald Hughes." The most wanted man in America was now number two, Harold Hughes had been leapfrogged by Justin
Vernon. Five dead teenagers. That was the first year. 11 dead teenagers. That was the second year.
16 all told. Both killing sprees had occurred in the tiny town of Hardenville, both during Labor Day weekend. One year after the next. On the third year, Win Hardenville shut down and enforced a curfew to keep the residents safe, expecting a return from the maniac in a white mask who had a preference for hammers. He didn't show. For the first time in three years, they had been spared. However, one town over in Westbrook Lake,
in his place, 13 teenagers were murdered by Justin Vernon, who had a preference for axes.
There was now a nationwide man hunt for two serial killers.
terrified, some left, the wealthy ones, who could afford to go somewhere else for a while.
“Until the cops are, whoever else was in charge found these lunatics, so that the citizens could return home,”
safely. Most of them, however, stayed. Most of them couldn't just pack up their entire lives and go somewhere else for an undetermined amount of time. That was an option. They're only real option, and the face of terror was to wait. Wait and pray that the cops found the killers before killers found them. As Labor Day approached, both towns were unlocked down. The eyes of an entire country were focused on Hardenville and Westbrook Lake.
What they didn't know. Nobody knew. Was that Harold Hughes? Was about to reemerge 1500 miles away.
“Helvent on killing the last remaining member of his bloodline. Jamie Hughes.”
Wisdom Montana. Population under 100. Not 1000. 100. Total. Federal law enforcement were able to secure a place for Jamie to stay. That felt tucked away from the world.
Harold would never be able to find her here. Nobody would. Located in southwestern Montana.
Beaver had county. Often called the Valley of 10,000 haystacks. U.S. Route 43 runs her town, but it's still far from any major city. Having seen her boyfriend and best friends murdered at the hands of Harold Hughes,
“Jamie was determined to keep living, even if it meant starting a new life. In one of the”
coldest places in the continental United States. Winters were harsh. Temperatures can reach as low as negative 40 degrees. Locals pride themselves on resilience. Their ability to persevere through long, bitter winters is seen as a badge of honor. One that each of them wear proudly. Life revolves around cattle ranching and hay farming.
Do things Jamie never thought she would do, let alone adapt as a lifestyle.
But this would have to do. At least until Harold Hughes was found and killed. The closest big town was Dylan Montana, 60 miles southeast. Wisdom is surrounded by vast ranchlands and mountains, most of the residents were older. Jamie was the youngest adult in town, a town that had a very low number of businesses. Grocery store, service station, post office, forest service office, small school that taught kindergarten through eighth grade.
Hook and horn trading post a shop on Highway 83 that functions as a coffee shop, espresso shop, gives shop sporting good store that also sells fishing and hunting licenses. Beyond that, nothing. Nothing except for the peace of mind. That Harold Hughes
would never be able to find her. There was only one person who knew Jamie's location.
Deputy agent Ed Elba. Anyone else was putting their life in danger. Because Harold Hughes would stop at nothing to find his sister. He knew how she liked it. Her coffee, federal agent Elba was beginning to know everything about Jamie. For the past month he was the only person who knew her at all. He knew the tragic tale that was her life. Who she was before she arrived in wisdom. Everyone else thought Jamie was just a girl
who dropped out of high school because she wanted a change of pace. Her cover story was that she grew up in a broken home in West Virginia. She came here looking for a fresh start. The air she would tell everyone. The air here felt fresh. They appreciated her appreciation.
Lucy, she told them that was her new name.
Nice name or a nice. It was happening again. And naturally flowing conversation that hit a wall of
“settlements. This was dangerous. These are the moments when feelings fill the air.”
When eyes lock and the truth begins to pour out. Like sweat on a mid summer day. Elba was asking Jamie how she was adapting to ranch life. She was going to like it. She told him there was something so tranquil about working off the land. Mowing, raking, bailing hay. Yesterday she had driven the tractor by herself.
Today she would be moving hay wagons, helping to irrigate pastures maintaining equipment.
Checking that hay bales are stacking safely. Check it out, Jamie said. She was showing him how smooth she could spin her Swiss army knife around in her hand until the
“blade shown. Not bad, huh? She told him. Smiling. Not bad. Elba confirmed.”
Where do you learn that? Oh, us ranchers are in all kinds of useful things on the land. But you wouldn't know nothing about that. Which is city boy. She was doing it again. Elba thought that thing she does where she says something. Smiles. And then I turned into dust. Elba was unable to resist her charm. It was happening. He was falling in love with her. That wasn't possible.
He had a code which had to be followed. Cold frontness coming in. Elba told her. Being outside is about to get a whole lot harder. Jamie said for him.
“Yeah. Elba said laughing. That was the effect she had on him.”
Making him forget even the most simple of words. Elba was 25, not much older than Jamie. The feds thought having someone close to her age would help ease her transition. They were right. Jamie was taking quite a shine to him. Not only because of his diligence and protective nature, but because he was easy on the eyes. Her eyes. He knew that he couldn't act on anything. Even if it was obvious, even if the energy
between them sometimes felt so electric that he would pretend that his phone was passing. When in fact, it was just an excuse to leave the room. So he wouldn't say something stupid. Something he would regret. Something that would put their relationship in jeopardy. Something that would put her in danger. Her safety was his top priority. Every other morning they would get coffee together.
And today was no exception. The exception was that during their moment of silence rather than pretending to leave because of his phone today, he didn't have to pretend. He was getting a call.
One second, he told her she waited patiently for him to return. Jamie was beginning to catch
feelings. The last person she had feelings for was dead, murdered, in brutal fashion by Harold Hughes. His body had been stabbed repeatedly and hung up like a deer head in the living room of Jamie's childhood home. On the other end, was Elvis Supervisor. Chief Deputy Carol. Hey Chief. At first, Albert didn't hear anything. He looked at his phone for a moment and then pressed it back up against his ear and once again he said it.
Hey Chief, can you hear me? There was nothing on the other end, just silence until breathing. Heavy, dense, breathing. Chief, you okay? The breathing got more rough. It seemed to somehow stretch and ooze through the phone. Albert had to put it away from his ear just to give his skin some distance. Even as he held it out, he could still hear it. The breathing.
This was definitely not.
Everything okay? Jamie asked. She could tell something was off.
Albert never seemed rattled. It's one of the reasons she felt so close to him. He was
poised, strong, ready for a fight. She needed that right now. Hopefully not, forever. But for now, that's exactly what the doctor ordered. Albert took one sip of his coffee and told her
“"I think we should go." The cold front was brutal. As soon as they stepped outside”
their cheeks felt as if they were being pulled apart from the inside. The wind howled across the desolate tiny edge of town, while Albert and Jamie got into his car. Flakes were beginning to drift from the gray clouds. What's wrong, Albert? Talk to me. Albert had his key in the ignition as Jamie buckled into the passenger seat. Nothing. He told her, "I just want to beat the snow. The weather is no joke. I thought the snow wasn't coming until tomorrow. Jamie asked
while peering up through the windshield toward the sky. Never trust the weather. It'll rain
all over you." Aha. Jamie said, "Mockingly, as she smiled from ear to ear,
“Albert's old school comedic sensibilities in corny humor was another thing she found.”
"Very charming about him. You gotta be kidding me." He said, as the engine read and ramped toward no start inside. You said this was in a car what gives Albert was that just a lie to make me swim. He tried again. This time this smile was on life support. The snow seemed to be picking up in mere minutes that had gone from just a hint towards a trusive. Jamie tried peering up again towards the sky, but most of the windshield was already covered. He tried for a fifth time. Nothing.
I'm just teasing. She said, "Should we ask someone for jumpers?" Albert looked in his rear view mirror when that didn't work because the back window was now covered and slosh. He saw something out of his side eye. Curtis, the owner of Hook and Horn, he was flipping the outside sign from open to closed. "Hey Kurt," Jamie said, after reaching across Albert's world down his window. "You got jumper cables by any chance?"
"Not on me," he said, "which makes me about as useful as a horse with no feet." "She won't start?" "No," Jamie yelled past Albert. "I got some back in my garage.
“If y'all want to lift, we can see about beaten weather, but I think it's going to be a tight race."”
"Thanks Kurt," Jamie yelled, as her and Albert got out of the car and followed Curtis towards his truck, which was parked across the street. Albert and Jamie's bodies were vibrating, even under the three layers of winter gear they had. Curtis, on the other hand, seemed relatively unbothered. Even though all he had on was a flannel with jeans, his skin looked like rubber. Seven decades of manual labor through a wide range of
seasons will do that to you. "It might be a little tie," he told them, as he opened up his door. "Tight was right," Jamie was nearly sitting on Albert's lap, as she got inside, which was not much of a hindrance to her, and it certainly was not to Elba. Who had to pretend all of his might that he was not enjoying this. "How's it going over on the ranch, Lucy?" "Y'all get in the hang of it?" "Oh sure," Jamie said.
After a second, sometimes the name Lucy took a beat before registering that it was,
in fact, her name. Now, at least for the moment. "Yeah, each day is a little easier." That's a nice thing about life in it. Each day, a little easier. Well, not for everyone I suppose. Curtis turned to Elba and gave him a once-over, as the pounding windshield wipers whooshed and whambed across his windshield. "How about you, friend? What do you think about our tiny town?" She'd treat me all right. "Yeah," Elba said. "The air feels fresh."
Jamie smiled.
It was an easy way to get the locals on your side, talking about the pure air.
“"Bad it does, friend, that it does. I'm Kurt. I've seen you a time or two."”
I read the proper "How do you do?" "Yes," Elba said. "Almost robotically, I've seen you too. I'm Elba's improvisation skills were lacking, and Jamie saw this as a golden opportunity to have a little fun." Something which was in short supply these days. So she swooped into offer Elba a name. He would have to abide by. "Buck," Jamie said. "This is my cousin." "Buck."
"How do you do?" "Buck," Kurt said. "I got a dog named Buck. My mom was a smart one, I bit, before unleashing his mismatch to smile." Elba just nodded while lightly ribbing Jamie.
“As they were locking eyes, something else was grabbing the reins of Kurt's attention.”
Well, would you look at that? The car was slowing down. Kurt lowered his window to get a cleaner look. Elba and Jamie's eyes had to squint through the stampeding snow to see what Kurt was looking at. Some one broke into Gus's place. Gus's place, aka Pioneer Guns, Mountain Guns, and Pawn. As with most everything in Wisdom, Montana, it was small, but serviceable. No moss, no bus, as the locals enjoyed expressing. The glass around the handle had been shattered.
Of course, Jamie thought, guns. Y'all wait here for a moment. Kurt said, while reaching under his seat to grab a pistol.
“Kurt's Jamie nearly screamed. "What are you doing with that?"”
As he does it Lucy, I'm just going to give a gander. Gus is a friend of mine, kind of neighbor, I'd be if I don't at least glance at it. Elba had to swivel away from Jamie in order to get a grip on his own, government issued Glock, which was in the back of his jeans, holstered and leather. Kurt, he told him what the brimming urgency
"Let me go in first." "Oh my," Kurt said, admiring Elba's gun.
"That a Glock. It is sir," Elba told him. "It's a real, pretty gun you got there. You must be a city boy." When Kurt smiled, the brown and yellow edges of his teeth became more pronounced. Residue from the nicotine dip poked their brown heads up from the tips of his receding gums. "All right, then, city boy. How about we go in at the same time?"
"Armed arm," so to speak. "Sounds good," Elba told him. "Really?" Jamie asked. "Maybe we should call for backup." "Hey," Kurt said, starting to get unbuckled. Between me and my city boy, the odds are in our favor. You just hang tight, Lucy. Keep it warm for me. Elba was getting out. The wind was firing and packets of snow right into Jamie's eyes. To be stupid, Elba. She told him.
"Never too late to start being smart." "I'll try." He said, closing the door with a hint of a smile.
Jamie had to sit and watch. Her vision was being disrupted by multiple factors. The pounding snow, the slowest snails wind shield wipers that seem to make the glass dirtier with every new wall across. And there was the heat, which was beginning to fog up Kurt's truck. It was the holy trinity of an obscured view. Unless Jamie got out of the car, all she could really see in front of her was sprinkles of the store front door. The changing of colors indicated that
Kurt and Elba were now inside. She turned around. There were no rear wipers. All Jamie saw was dirt. Kurt might as well afforded up the back of his truck. But it looked just the same. Jamie tried turning on the radio. Static, apropos, Jamie thought, white static to go along perfectly with the white snow. Oliver senses started to merge together. She tried squinting again,
Toward the store front door.
down the window for a moment, just to get a glimpse. As soon as she did, the wind caught her eye.
“It was blistering. Her face nearly swalled up from the two seconds of exposure.”
So she quickly rolled it right back up. The cold was bad, but the silence was even worse. It's why she worked for morning till night. It kept her mind occupied. At night, when it was just her, the horror would come crawling back, like an endless snake. She could see him
Harold Hughes. That first labor day, two years ago, when he showed up to her home and killed her
two best friends. And then the next year, when he came back even more savage, the carnage he caused, that night in the hospital, when she was the lone survivor, it's hard for Jamie to close her eyes. Sometimes she'll see it clears day. Harold trapped in that hospital basement. Jamie had used herself as bait and lured him down there. Once Harold was inside, she trapped him and with the match. Then she ran outside and watched his face as Harold stood there while the fire engulfed him and everything around him.
“The smoke turned the black night into ash. As for Harold, she won. That's what she thought.”
She had to put an end to the horror known as Harold Hughes once and for all or so.
She thought they never found his body and bat during the entire fire. As Jamie watched it all
turned down, Harold never made a sound. It had been nearly ten minutes of Jamie, sitting alone in this old beat-up truck that looked and sounded as if it was on its last legs. Legs that were made of glass, legs that sounded as if they were being tightened from all angles by screws that were angry. The wind was screaming. At one point Jamie felt as if the right side of the truck shook
just the right side. Not only for a second. That couldn't have been real. That must have
been her mind playing tricks on her. This had been her life for the past 13 months. One during her mind was split reality and paranoia. Who can you trust when you can't trust yourself? Elba, she would tell her so. Trust him for help. She checked her watch again. 15 minutes, something was wrong, something had to be wrong. Elba would have come back out by now. His whole life for the past month had been her protecting her looking out for her why was he still
inside. At least pop out for a wave. An acknowledgement that she was there waiting.
“She knew it had to be bad. So she did the only thing she could do. The one thing she had been told not to do.”
She opened her door and got out. It was the kind of cold that seemed to punish you from the inside first and then work its way out. How do people do it? Jamie would wonder how do they live here? Solitude and the open sky was a beautiful romantic notion that she could get behind. When it's this cold, how can you appreciate those things? How can you do anything? Jamie was protecting her face from the howling wind and buckets of snow as she stopped
towards the front door which held out its ominous arms through the glass that had been smashed. The opening was small. Just enough for a hand to reach inside and step in. Hello? Jamie said that three times as soon as her feet hit the concrete store floor. It was dark. The natural light shining through from the outside provided hints of a compass for her to follow. Locked display cases for firearms and accessories, shelving for ammo,
safety gear, cleaning kits, magazines, holsters, optics, a counter upon desk for valuations,
Loans and paperwork, etc.
utilitarian feel, more about security, organization and compliance than to be a retail showpiece.
“There also seemed to be a back office tucked away in the corner. When Jamie saw that, she unloaded about”
five more hello that were left to dance alone in the dark. The door was open. She turned around to look at the world from inside the store. The snow was piling up quickly. Those roads would not be hospitable for much longer. Whatever Elba and Kurt had found back there was going to be just like everything else at the moment. Bad. Jamie opened the door and saw nothing. The lights didn't work because of course they didn't. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A few loose papers,
but it wasn't any more disheveled or ominous than any other tiny back office. Jamie stepped out back into the main space. That was it she thought. There was nowhere else for them to be. Was as if they had vanished. Screw it, Jamie thought. She might as well take advantage of the situation. She cracked open a display case and took one of the pistols along with approximately six bullets. Gus the owner can bill her in the morning or at least until
Kurt was in the car. Physicality was limited just like everything else. She could see well enough to know that Kurt was sitting back in the driver's seat. She lifted up her coat collar an extra half inch to brace for the five foot walk back into his beat up truck. When she opened the door
and got in, she noticed something right away. Space, Elba was not inside. Where's it took a second to
“remember his fake name? Buck. She said finally. Where's Buck? There was no response from Kurt.”
All she heard was breathing. Dense, heavy, breathing. Her coat was starting to soak. She couldn't tell where the sweat started and the snowflakes stopped. Kurt's hand put the truck in motion and they started to drive away. "Where are you going?" Jamie said. "We can't leave him." Kurt didn't budge. From her vantage point, he didn't blink. All he did was breathe.
His eyes never wavered from the road. Jamie tried to open the door. As soon as it opened,
Kurt began to speed away. The jolt sent Jamie's head into a whiplash when she reached back out to open the door fully. She felt a hand grab her own. Kurt was squeezing. His grip was made of steel. She screamed in agony when she turned back around towards him. She swung with all of her might at his face using her one free hand. What happened next was the poster child of nightmares. Kurt's face, it fell off. The skin of Kurt's face had been thinly sliced like
delimit and placed on top of another face, the face belonging to herald. Hughes. Jamie froze. The pain in her hand no longer mattered. He could have ripped her hand clean off and she wouldn't have blinked. All that she felt was what sat next to her. It was him. He had found her. The beast, the one who makes this shadow is hide. Harold. She whispered. His face was covered in the blood of another man. But the complexities and contradictions of his own face were still evident. The way
that his black eyes curved up, the right eye, the one closest to her was nearly shut. His nose
“was almost flat. That's why his breath seemed to explode out of his nostrils like hellfire.”
His mouth was small and triangular. His hair was white and stringy. She could barely see the driver side window behind him. His body seemed to expand as he turned towards her slowly. The car continued to speed through the empty slippery streets. Why had he killed her? Where was he taking her? What did he want? These were some of the questions fighting for attention inside
Of the mind of Jamie.
to see the light of day. Harold, she whispered for a second time. I know you can hear me.
“As those words left her lips, something seemed to shift in the air. It was as if the sounds of the”
world were turned down. Just as his grip started to soften and her hand became her own again. She took out her gun and unmuted the full clip. The car swung wild into the left and smashed fright into a telephone. The engine collapsed. The horn was blaring glass was everywhere along the blood. Jamie kicked open her door and lunged out onto the white curtain road. She grabbed her neck
and pain as she stood up, looking inside, holding out her gun towards Harold. He was still
hunched over the wheel as the horn continued to yell. His face was aimed right at her.
“All she could see was the hint of his right eye, the one that was nearly shut. She took one step”
forward and pulled the trigger. Nothing but air. The clip was empty. Jamie dropped the gun and started to run. She was about halfway down the block. When she stopped, Jamie turned back towards Kurt's truck. What was left of it? Her body was running on empty, fumes. Shivering so hard that
her breathing became sparse. She could barely feel her toes, although she could barely see the
truck. She could still hear the horn. The sound was guiding her closer, she thought. She took at her Swiss army knife. The one she had used to make Elvis smile. She held it with her one good hand. The hand that Harold had not nearly ripped off. Closer. She thought it was right there. The horn was so loud that it meant Kurt's truck had to be within ten feet. Maybe less. And then it stopped. So did Jamie. She breaked the impending blizzard and sloshed forward until
she could see the truck. The empty truck. The world went quiet again until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Jamie whipped up her Swiss army knife and struck down. How? Jamie's eyes ballooned. Over. She knelt down as he felt. The snowcapped street. And held his hand in agony. "You stabbed me!" He shouted. "You snuck up on me!" She shouted back. His eyes were half shot from dried blood that had flown from his forehead. He was trying desperately to take it out,
but the fierce cold was making his good hand shake. On three. Ready? Jamie told him. On three. What? He said back. Jamie didn't wait till three. She pulled. "Jesus, Jamie, what happened to three?" "Cero was quicker." She told him while wrapping her scarf around his bloody hand. She used her legs to spring his body upright. We got to go. He said, "We got to go."
As he started to walk away, he saw that she had not moved. Jamie, we got to go. Come on! Go where? She asked him calmly. "To get help, to get safe." He shouted.
“As words lost shape from a numb face. "Help. Safety. That's why I hate him here.”
And he's still found me." "No more running." Jamie walked over to Kurt's truck. Sad in the driver's side seat opened up the glove box and took out a pack of smokes. Kurt's pack of smokes. "You can't be serious, Jamie. Come on. He killed Kurt. He merely killed me. We got to go before he comes back." "No." Jamie said. "Her face lit up by the warm, comforting cigarette." "Don't you get it, Alba? He needs to do it. He needs to end my life."
So, one of two things is going to happen. One, I'm going to freeze to death, waiting for him.
Two, he's going to come back.
with my late life. Either way, he'll be a great way to kill some time. Elba huddled with Jamie
and Kurt's truck. They waited nearly three hours for law enforcement to come and drag Jamie away, kicking and screaming. It took three agents to get her out of Kurt's truck. Elba
“had moved on by then. The cold had gotten the best of him. He died in the best way possible.”
Rapt in the arms of the girl he loved, whom he had sworn to protect. Jamie, on the other hand, was being described as a medical marvel. The doctors were perplexed how could anyone survive being in the cold for that long. Dr. Gibson, the man who had followed Harold for most of his life, the one who tried to warn everyone about Harold Hughes, but they didn't listen. Just the ranting of a loon, they said back then. Now, Dr. Gibson was in the hospital, standing outside of
Jamie's room, speaking with the medical staff who treated her. They were explaining what had happened, how it was a miracle she survived. The fact that she's here, Dr. Gibson, the fact that she's alive still, it's, well, it's almost as if she isn't human.
Thanks for listening and thank you again to my author this week, John Sachs. I always enjoy
“John's work and remember to go check out his podcast, Sadistic. I hope you're enjoying the”
dulce of tones of my dishwasher by the way. I'm not going to do much of a ramble this week because guess what? Part two of the Q&A comes out on Tuesday, and while I, A, some Q, there was even a confession, and I got a little heated about it. It is almost two hours long, so I'm going to let you check that out once that is out. And for those of you who are not a part of a Patreon, I asked my Patreon patrons for to vote on three new topics this year because a couple years ago for April Fool's Day,
which is coming up soon. I did a fun little thing called shampoo you to sleep based on so many
people with the joke that they would listen to me read the backs of shampoo bottles if they could
“as in, you know, they like my voice that much. So I did one, and some people thought it was weird”
and hated it, but a lot of people actually really enjoyed it, and I did too because I love April Fool's Day. I'm not a much of a prank person, but I love stuff like this, so I'm going to do another April Fool's Day episode. And if you're a Patreon patron, go head over and vote. There are three choices. I'm not telling the people what it is. If you're not a Patreon patron, you'll have to find out that they it comes out. So patreon.com/scarydisleep, and for the rest of you, if you have a story like
submitted to the show, you can send it to [email protected], and please put in the subject line whether it's a true story or a fictional story. You can also find me on social media @scarydisleep. Mostly on Instagram these days, and if you'd like to follow my personal Instagram, you can follow me @shelbybnovac. You can also check out my work on two other podcasts I do, one being the bloody disgusting podcast that I do every week with my co-host, Zina Dixon,
and you can also check me out on the Lady Killers. But having so much fun over on the Lady Killers discussing stuff, we just discussed the menu, which that won't be out for a couple weeks, but man, I love that movie, and I love talking about food. I love doing that here too, so it was such a combination of all of my favorite things. And for baking corner this week, I will give you a quick baking corner. I did make some cherry almond scones. I didn't have enough cherries,
and I was out of almonds, but I was really craving them, and it was late at night. The stores were closed, so I used the little handful of dried cherries I had, and some almond extract, and they turned out fantastic. So, go make some scones. We can you know what I really wanted that was some clotted cream, and there is none near me, not even whole foods. The whole food's near hit me
Has it, and so I thought about making my own.
because you have to cook it for like 20 hours. Some of the recipes were like 14 hours, 20 hours,
“12 hours, and so I'm thinking about it. What do you think, listeners in countries that”
utilize clotted cream more? I've had it before in a jar from World Market, so the little tiny jar,
and I've always wanted to try like fresh clotted cream. I guess it's fresh. You do cook it for
that. I don't know how you describe it, but I'm thinking about doing it at some point. I clearly didn't do it for the scones this time around. I thought about it too late, and I was like, you know what? I thought I could make some clotted cream, and I looked it up, and I was like,
“oh, well the scones are already made, and I don't have 20 hours to have them just sit around”
before I try them. Anyway, I'm going to go, as I said, please check out the Q&A coming out
Tuesday, if you so choose. I can't tell you what to do, but yeah, I get a little heated at one point, give a lot of podcast advice. There are some personal questions, some more personal questions in there, trying to think of what, it was an hour and 45 minutes, so I'm trying to think of what is in there. It's a lot. It's a whole lot. I talk a whole lot. All right, I'm going to go and get some
“sleep or something. I'm going to go find something to do. What about you? I hope you're having a”
wonderful weekend, or if you're hearing this on Monday, I hope you're having a wonderful week,
and I hope you have a wonderful week for the rest of your week, and that's all. Go get some sleep, sweet dreams. [Music] [Music] [Music]
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