Tuesday, August 5, 2025

Urban Legends

 The Clown Statue

A couple with children were trying out a new babysitter. About an hour after they left for a night in the town, they realized they had forgotten to give her their cell phone number, so one of them called her.

After she wrote down the number, the babysitter asked if she could watch satellite TV in their bedroom. She had just put the children to bed and wanted to watch a particular show. (The parents didn't want their children to watch too much garbage, so the living room TV did not have satellite channels.)

Well, of course she could watch TV in their room, they replied. The babysitter had one other request: could she put a sheet or blanket over the clown statue that was in the bedroom? It kind of made her nervous.

Take the children and go to the neighbors, say whichever parent was talking to her. We'll call the police. We don't have a clown statue.

The police caught the clown as he was running through the neighborhood.

The Boyfriend’s Death

Story #1

Two students had gone out to neck in a car on an isolated country road. Afterwards, the car wouldn't start. The girlfriend got spooked. The boyfriend said he would walk for help, but suggested she first get down on the floor of the car in the back and put a blanket over her so no one looking in would see her... and told her not to look out or get out until he returned and told her to, no matter what she heard. Then he walked off, leaving her hidden.

He didn't return, and he didn't return, and then she heard a strange tap-tap-tap sound on top of the car. Tap-tap-tap. Despite her growing panic, she didn't get out and remained huddled there, all night long, listening to the irregular tapping sounds.

Finally, the day grew light outside, and she heard someone walking up to the car. A man's voice called out, "Is anyone in there?" It was the local sheriff. She peeked out and he told her to get out of the car, walk down the road to the sheriff’s waiting car, and whatever she did, not to look back at the car.

She walked down the road to the sheriff's car but looked back at the last minute and saw her boyfriend's head impaled on the CB antenna, dripping blood onto the car.

Story #2

 

A teenager is driving his girlfriend home from a date. The boy had been playing around earlier about the car running out of gas to make out with her. Well, it doesn't work, and she's mad. He starts up the car to take her home, apologizing all the way, when lo and behold, they do run out of gas. He pulls the car over by some trees. It's very late, and the area is secluded and wooded. The boy tells his girlfriend that he saw a gas station a couple of miles back, and since going ahead would take even longer, he tells her to stay in the car with the windows rolled up and locked, and he'll get back as fast as he can; no sense in both going, right?

Well, the girl waits in the car. It's been about 20 minutes since she heard a faint scratching noise. It starts to bother her, but she blows it off as the tree branches hitting the car; it had been windy that day. She decides to turn on the radio to listen to some music so it won't freak her out. Well, now it's been almost 2 hours, and she's starting to get worried. Her boyfriend was a jock and could have easily made it there and back in under an hour. Half an hour later, she's very worried and decides to turn off the radio and look around. He had told her not to get out under any circumstances, so she tries to peer out the window, but she sees nothing. To her annoyance, the scratching sound is still there. She decides that she will get out just long enough to break off that damn branch. She gets out and notices the gas can on the ground near the door. She immediately turns around and sees her boyfriend hanging upside down from the tree, throat slit, and his fingernails dragging across the top of the car, making a scratching sound. Of course, had she been listening to talk radio instead of music, she would have known a maniac had escaped from the asylum near the woods where they were parked.

Story #3

A lass someone at college knew was travelling in her boyfriend's car late at night through the New Forest when their car suddenly started spluttering and stalled. They'd run out of petrol in the middle of nowhere. At first, she thought it might be a ruse by her bloke to get a bit of rural slap and tickle, but the concern on his face soon scotched that. It was pitch black, and the only light they could see was coming from what looked like a mansion or hospital some miles away. The boyfriend told her to lock the doors and wait while he went for help.

Hours passed, and still no sign of him. She was beginning to get very nervous. Still more time went by, when she was startled by horrendous banging on the back, then the top of the car. Before she could scream, the car was surrounded by police cars with lights flashing and sirens wailing.

 

A voice over a loud hailer told her: "Get out of the car slowly, walk steadily towards the police line, and don’t repeat, don't, look around." She did as she was told, but as she neared the police line, she couldn't stop herself looking round at the car to see what was making the awful thumping noise . . . only to see an escaped psychopath banging her boyfriend's severed head on the car roof.

The Killer in the Back Seat

A friend stopped at a pay-at-the-pump gas station to get gas. Once she filled her gas tank and after paying at the pump and starting to leave, the voice of the attendant inside came over the speaker... He told her that something had happened with her card and that she needed to come inside to pay. The lady was confused because the transaction showed complete and approved. She replied to him and was getting ready to leave, but the attendant, once again, urged her to come in to pay or there'd be trouble. She proceeded to go inside and started arguing with the attendant about his threat. He told her to calm down and listen carefully:

He said that while she was pumping gas, a guy slipped into the back seat of her car on the other side, and the attendant had already called the police. She became frightened and looked out in time to see her car door open, and the guy slipped out. The report is that the new gang initiation thing is to bring back a woman and/or her car. One way they do this is by crawling under women's cars while they're pumping gas or at grocery stores in the nighttime. The other way is slipping into unattended cars and kidnapping the women. Please pass this on to other women, young and old alike. Be extra careful going to and from your car at night.

If possible, don't go alone! This is real!!

The message:

1. ALWAYS lock your car doors, even if you're gone for just a second!

2. Check underneath your car when approaching it for reentry, and check in the back before getting in.

3. Always be aware of your surroundings and of other individuals in your general vicinity, particularly at night!

The Choking Doberman

Story #1

Gagging Dog Story Baffles Police

It happened in Las Vegas. A woman returned from work and found her large dog, a Doberman, lying on the floor, gasping for air. Concerned over the animal's welfare, she immediately loaded the pet into her car and drove him to a veterinarian.

The vet examined the dog but found no reason for his breathing difficulties, announced that he'd have to perform a tracheotomy and insert tubes down the animal's throat so he could breathe. He explained that it wasn't anything she'd want to watch and urged the woman to go home and leave the Doberman there overnight.

When the woman returned home, the phone was ringing off the hook. She answered it and was surprised to discover it was the vet. Even more surprising was his message — "Get out of the house immediately! Go to the neighbor's and call the police!"

It seems that when the vet operated, he found a very grisly reason for the dog's breathing difficulty — three human fingers were lodged in its throat. Concerned that the person belonging to the dismembered fingers might still be in the house, he phoned to warn the woman.

According to the story, police arrived at her house and found an unconscious intruder, sans fingers, lying in a closet.

Story #2

New Times learned of the story from an employee of a large industrial plant in the Valley. He said he had gotten the story third hand from another employee who, in turn, had heard it from a woman whose relatives in Las Vegas knew the dog's owner. As of Friday, New Times could not nail down the identity of the Doberman's mistress.

According to a spokesman at the Las Vegas Sun, that paper, too, was very interested in breaking the story. Unfortunately, even though the story was all over Vegas last Thursday, the paper and police couldn’t dig up one shred of evidence to prove the incident ever occurred. "The police are baffled," the Sun spokesman said. 

Story #3

Somewhere in western NY or the chimney of PA, a woman went grocery shopping. When she came home, the back door was open. She didn't think much about it . . . it was a small town where the doors rarely got locked and neighbors often stopped in. But when she got into the kitchen, she found their dog (a rottweiler, shepherd, or Doberman) on the floor in obvious distress. She loads the dog into her truck and speeds to the vet. The vet tells her to leave the dog; he'll call when he knows something. About an hour later, he calls and asks if she's looked around her house. She hadn't, but, puzzled, agreed to. Upstairs, in front of her jewelry chest, is a puddle of blood, and the room is a mess. Frightened, she asks the vet what's going on. He tells her to hang up and call the police immediately. He thinks her house has been broken into, because the dog was choking on 2 (or 3 or 4) human fingers.

The Babysitter and the Man Up the Stairs

A young couple living in a large, isolated house had gone out to a dinner party one evening and left the babysitter in charge of their two children. The children had been put to bed, and the babysitter was watching television when the phone rang. She answered, but all she heard was a man laughing hysterically and then a voice saying, "I'm upstairs with the children, you'd better come up." Thinking it was "one of those phone calls" or a practical joke, she slammed down the receiver and turned the television sound up. A short time later, the phone rang again and, as she picked it up, the unmistakable hysterical laughter came down the line and the voice once again said, "I'm upstairs with the children, you'd better come up."

Getting rather frightened, she called the operator and was advised that they would notify the police and, should he phone again, she should keep him talking to give them time to trace the call and have him arrested. Minutes after she replaced the receiver, the phone rang again, and when the voice said, "I'm upstairs with the children, you'd better come up," she tried to keep him talking. However, he must have guessed what she was trying to do, and he put the phone down.

Only seconds later, the phone rang again, and this time it was the operator who said, "Get out of the house straight away, the man is on the extension." The babysitter put down the phone and just then heard someone coming down the stairs. She fled from the house and ran straight into the arms of the police. They burst into the house and found a man brandishing a large butcher's knife. He had entered the house through an upstairs window, murdered both the children, and was just about to do the same for the poor babysitter.

The Slasher under the Car

I am passing this along because I know of an incident like this. My girlfriend was getting some gas, and when she attempted to return to her car, the gas station attendant started yelling at her and telling her she had not paid yet. When she went back in to argue about having already paid, the attendant told her he just wanted to get her back in because he saw someone crawl in the back seat of her car, and that he had already called the police. So, it's worth taking to heart.

 

This is a true story. It has been a "ritual" of gang members to take one body part from women as an initiation into gangs. The rule is that it must be in a well-lit area and at a gas station, so be careful. They tend to lie under the car, and slash females' ankles when she goes to get in her car, causing her to fall, and then they cut off a body part and roll and run. They are known to hide behind the gas pumps, too, so be careful. It might sound bizarre and gross, but the bigger the body part, the higher the initiation they receive.

This was communicated by a person who works in law enforcement in the south. She has investigated and been called to a number of these scenes. She has also confirmed the following statement below as true and not an internet "hoax."

Please pass these on to as many people as you know... mothers, sisters, grandparents, daughters, nieces, and friends. It seems the world has become a crazy place to live in, but let's be careful out there and make stuff like this known so we are better protected.

The Vanishing Hitchhiker

A dozen miles outside of Baltimore, the main road from New York (Route Number One) crosses another important highway. It is a dangerous intersection, and there is talk of building an underpass for the east-west road. To date, however, the plans exist only on paper. Dr. Eckersall was driving home from a country club dance late one Saturday night. He slowed up for the intersection and was surprised to see a lovely young girl, dressed in the sheerest of evening gowns, beckoning him for a lift. He jammed on his brakes and motioned her to climb into the back seat of his roadster. "All cluttered up with golf clubs and bags up here in front," he explained. "But what on earth is a youngster like you doing out here all alone at this time of night?"

"It's too long a story to tell you now," said the girl. Her voice was sweet and somewhat shrill — like the tinkling of sleigh bells. "Please, please take me home. I'll explain everything there. The address is ___ North Charles Street. I do hope it's not too far out of your way."

The doctor grunted and set the car in motion. He drove rapidly to the address she had given him, and as he pulled up before the shuttered house, he said, "Here we are." Then he turned around. The back seat was empty!

"What the devil?" the doctor muttered to himself. The girl couldn't possibly have fallen from the car. Nor could she simply have vanished. He rang insistently on the housebell, confused as he had never been in his life before. At long last, the door opened. A gray-haired, very tired-looking man peered out at him.

"I can't tell you what an amazing thing has happened," began the doctor. "A young girl gave me this address a while back. I drove her here and . . ."

 "Yes, yes, I know," said the man wearily. "This has happened several other Saturday evenings in the past month. That young girl, sir, was my daughter. She was killed in an automobile accident at that intersection where you saw her almost two years ago."

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