Dead Story

1

- In December 1914,

a series of horrific

murders were committed

at a remote ranch.

Police were never able

to identify a suspect.

In December 1944, again,

a series of horrific

murders occurred

at the same remote ranch.

Again, police were never

able to identify a suspect.

In December 1994, again,

a series of gruesome murders

took place at the same ranch.

And once again,

police were never able

to identify a suspect.

- Harold!

Harold, please!

Harold!

It's so peaceful way out here.

- Yeah, maybe

that's why it was so

inexpensive.

Honestly, I can't believe

this house was on the market

for over five years.

- Maybe it was just waiting.

For us.

- Yeah.

Yeah, I like that.

Hey, with all the

money we saved up

we should probably

knock out that barn.

Or like, build like a

shop or a greenhouse.

- Oh yeah.

A greenhouse sounds nice.

- Hey, you know what

else would be nice?

If Neil and Emma actually

showed up on time for once.

Just for once.

They were supposed to

be here two hours ago.

- Well, uh,

maybe we could go check out

the inside while we wait.

- Yeah, let's do that.

So...

About this furniture.

- What about this furniture?

- Maybe we can sell all

of it on Craigslist,

make some money and buy

some different furniture?

- Aw, I think it fits.

- Yeah, I think it'd

fit for somebody.

I don't think it

fits for us though.

- No, it adds to the

whole country charm.

- Yeah well, I bought this place

'cause you wanted to

be in the country.

Even though it added

an hour to my commute.

- Neil said it was

only thirty minutes.

- Well, Neil is thirty

minutes closer to the office.

- You sound just like Martha.

- When are you gonna

start calling my mom mom?

- Whenever she stops treating

me like Satan incarnate.

- She does not, she

treat you like...

- really?

She told me I was poisoning you.

- That's because you didn't know

I was allergic to shellfish.

- No, it was before that.

- Can we not talk about my mom?

- Um, hey.

- Hey.

- Hey, yeah, sorry we're late.

It's Neil's fault.

- What, my fault?

- Yes honey, I told you that

the truck would be ready

two hours ago but you said no.

- Yeah, well looks like

we timed this just right.

Otherwise.

- Alright man, you and me

on box patrol and girl time.

What's up, man, love you.

Boxes are right there.

- Over here?

- Yeah, yeah.

- Dude, you know this house

is wicked old.

- Yeah, tell me about it.

- You know...

You ever heard the story?

- No, what story?

- Neil, not tonight, okay?

I mean, they're just moving...

- there's no story.

- Oh, there's a story.

It was back in 1969.

Or '79, no 1969, yeah.

Their names?

Their names were

George and Martha.

- Neil can never

get the names right.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, no.

Their names were Abe and Mary.

Abe and Mary Lincoln.

Abe and Mary Johnson,

I'm positive.

- Okay, really Neil,

I don't think that Anne

and Harold are in the mood

to hear one of

your ghost stories.

- It's not a ghost story.

It's...

It's a dead story.

It's the type of

story that'll get you

dead.

- Ooh.

- Anyways, I don't know

all of the details.

- He doesn't know

any of the details.

- But they say that one

morning at like 2:00 am,

that's the bewitching

hour and all.

You mean 12:
00 am.

- Uh, Harold, you mind

if I tell the story?

Thanks, bud.

Anyways, it's 2:
00 am

because that's when

Jesus was killed or

something like that.

- Resurrected.

- Whatever.

But one morning Mary

wakes up at 2:
00 am

and just rolls over in bed

and plunges a butcher knife

straight into Abe's chest.

For no reason.

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