Introducing RUN, FOOL!: Stairway to Hell
34:19 Share

Hey, creeps and peepers. It's me, Lindsay. And me, Dan. And we've got something special for you today. We know you love terrifying, eerie stories that keep you up at night. So we think you'll love this podcast. It's called Run Fool. And believe me, it will give you the chills. For

From Ballin Studios and out of the terrifying mind of Rodney Barnes, Run Fool is a weekly show that brings you grisly, harrowing tales guaranteed to make you scream. Each week, Run Fool tells a new story of monsters, demons, vampires, the occult, or haunted places. Rodney creates narratives that will leave you looking over your shoulder and questioning what's real. In this episode we're about to play for you, called Stairway to Hell...

Two college roommates decide to explore a cursed chapel rumored to house a stairway to hell. According to legend, anyone who dares to climb the stairs will awaken their darkest fears. What begins as an innocent exploration quickly turns into a nightmare neither of them will ever forget. New episodes of Run, Fool come out every Tuesday and you can follow and listen anywhere you get your shows. And now, a special presentation of Run, Fool!

Sometimes colleges invite me to give their students lectures on writing, or horror, or whatever else it is I pretend to be an expert on. They're fun gigs. I fly out, stay in a hotel on their dime, and inspire the next generation of creatives. It's good for the soul, usually. But last March, a trip to the University of Kansas left my soul feeling deeply troubled.

It was late when I landed, and a sophomore who worked at the student union gave me a ride from the airport. Christine was quiet, and she didn't seem to be a horror fan, just a young woman doing her job. At least I thought so. Until she took a detour and pulled over by a cemetery. It was lit by moonlight and surrounded by a barbed wire fence to keep people out, or maybe to keep something terrible in.

Yeah, my horror brain was kicking into gear. I asked why we'd stopped. Christine told me this was Stull Cemetery, the most haunted place in all of Kansas. She wanted me to check it out. I told her, kindly, that I'd rather not go ghost hunting. I was tired. And in my line of work, if you've seen one haunted cemetery, you've kind of seen them all. I thought she'd laugh.

But Christine told me this one was different. Then she gripped the wheel and asked if I was religious. Something was off about this girl. She wasn't dangerous, exactly. But there was a pathetic need radiating off of her. So I said sure. I was a believer. I believed in a higher power and right and wrong. But I wasn't a scripture fanatic. Maybe that's why in my wilder years a few of my execs had said I was going to hell.

Now Christine laughed, bitterly. She told me I didn't want to go there. She knew for a fact it was worse than I could ever imagine. My eyes went wide as Christine told me. That's why she'd brought me here. Because deep within this cemetery, in the ruins of a chapel, there was a stairway to hell. ♪

You're listening to Run, Fool. I'm Rodney Barnes, and this is episode 56, Stairway to Hell. A year ago, Christine sat on her dorm room couch at the University of Kansas. It was late on a Sunday, and the freshman was reading her Kindle, or trying to.

She wished she had her noise-canceling headphones, because her roommate Audrey was making one hell of a ruckus in the bedroom. After the grunts and giggles ended, the bedroom door opened. Audrey and her sort-of-boyfriend Trey came out to make themselves a snack and share a weed vape. Trey was a junior, a slacker, a magic mushroom dealer who never went to class. Despite all that...

Christine didn't really mind him hanging around. He had a boyish charm, and he always said hi when he saw her on campus. Unlike Audrey, who ignored her. She had this jaded, big-city, snobby energy that was so intimidating. Trey and Audrey started yapping over vape hits. Christine usually tuned out Audrey's stone, pseudo-intellectual rants. But tonight, her ears perked up when she heard her roomie say...

Religious people are just stupid. Plain and simple, the world would be a better place if those nutjobs crucified themselves. Christine felt a pang of indignation. She looked down at the book she was reading, which, as it happens, was the Bible. See, Christine was a believer. It wasn't a fact she advertised because she was still figuring her college self out. She'd relaxed a lot since her evangelical childhood and gotten more progressive, too.

She dressed modestly, but not conservatively. She took communion at church, but still had beer at parties. And if a cute boy wanted to flirt with her, she'd flirt back. But Audrey's words triggered an old voice in her head. Her faith. Telling her, fight back. Christine piped up. She told Audrey she shouldn't generalize. There were good and bad Christians, just like there were good and bad atheists. If she ever wanted an honest dialogue about faith, she'd be happy to have one.

Audrey looked up, like a viper eyeing its prey, intrigued by Christine for the first time. Then she smirked and unleashed a barrage of snotty questions. What did good and bad mean anyway? Did she deny science or evolution? Did Christine really believe in God? Was God a man? Oh, and was she actually afraid of the devil? Christine felt small, threatened, like a rube.

She felt that whisper in her ear again. Fight back. So she blurted, yeah, she was afraid of the devil. He was clearly working his evil through Audrey right now. Audrey's jaw dropped, like someone had slapped her. For a non-believer, she seemed so wounded. And Christine wasn't sure she was sorry for wounding her.

Trey stepped between them like a referee. He said, first of all, Audrey was a steamroller and Christine was a doormat, so this wasn't a fair fight. Also, religion was the most cliche freshman late night debate. The kind you have your first week that bonds you. If it had taken them a year to get to this topic, then they were both crappy roommates. The girls looked at Trey, annoyed. He told them not to worry. He had a solution.

He took a drag of his vape. Smoke wafted around him in eerie tendrils as he asked, Have you heard of Stull Cemetery? It was 10 miles outside of town. There were tons of scary stories about it, some dating back to the ancient 1970s. Others were more modern. Like in 2013 when Ariana Grande said she visited Stull and sensed a demonic presence. Yep, Google it.

Frey took another puff and circled them. The scariest part was the chapel. It was half-collapsed, off-limits. But if you dared to trespass into it on the right night, a stairwell would appear. One that led deep into the earth, straight down into hell, where the devil would greet you. It happened twice a year, on Halloween night and on the spring equinox.

Trey grinned and said, the equinox was a few days away. So, the answer was clear. Audrey and Christine stared at him, not getting it. Trey rolled his eyes. Duh. The girls should camp out in the chapel. If spooky stuff happened and the stairwell appeared, Audrey would have to admit that logic didn't explain everything. And if nothing happened, then Christine could chill out with the devil stuff.

Either way, they'd actually hang out, build bridges, connect as humans. Trey nodded like a stone sage. Then he burst into a hacking cough and the girls looked away.

Look, it's embarrassing when a wasted party boy with a 2.2 GPA clacks your petty drama with razor-sharp precision. So Audrey thought, damn it. And Christine thought, darn it. They turned to each other and shrugged. What the hell? Right? On the day of the equinox, Christine stalked through Stahl Cemetery. She wasn't with Audrey. She'd come early, lugging a duffel bag. She jumped when she saw a grave that said, witch.

before she realized it really said Wittich, an odd family name. Otherwise, the cemetery was full of grassy hills and the trees bloomed with flowers. On this spring day, it was hardly scary until Christine saw the chapel. An icy breeze kicked up, coming from the building, whistling through the half-destroyed roof.

As she walked closer, she saw that the grass around it was brown, like it had died long ago and was too scared to grow back. Christine started to have second thoughts, but then she heard that inner voice, the one she'd come to know as her faith. It said, "Bring glory to me," and it made her feel brave. She reached out to touch the cross necklace she'd worn around her neck, then she pushed open the chapel door and walked in.

Christine set her bag down on a rotting pew. She took a few halting steps in to scan the room. There were no stairways anywhere, especially none that led to hell. The only scary thing was the big cross at the front of the chapel. The termite-ridden floor had buckled in, and the cross hung on a diagonal, a little askew, just like her own faith. Christine went to her bag and unzipped it. She brought a few supplies that might come in handy.

She wasn't sure if she could only rely on the stories about the chapel. She wasn't even sure she wanted proof that the devil existed. But no matter what happened, Christine bowed to scare Audrey into being a believer. Around 11 p.m., Christine and Audrey walked into the chapel. When their flashlight sliced through the darkness, rats and bats skittered away. Christine shrieked. Audrey just said, "'Nice.'"

They went to the pews and got out their sleeping bags. When Christine unrolled hers, she shrieked again. She called Audrey over to see the marks on her pew. They came together in a shape that looked like a crude pentagram, drawn in blood. Fresh blood. Audrey shrugged. So what? A bat probably killed the bat and that was just blood spatter. Christine should find a clean pew. Oh, and get a rabies shot tomorrow.

She smirked. That is, if Christine believed in science. A few minutes later, the girls lay on their pews, waiting for something scary to happen. Which it didn't. So to fill up the time, they started to talk. Really talk. For the first time. Christine found out that Audrey wasn't from a big city. She pretended to be because the backwoods Arkansas town she grew up in was a place she wanted to forget. She didn't elaborate, but she said it was so bad she'd basically run away.

Now she wanted to be a child psychologist to stop parents from screwing up kids the way her parents had. Christine said she'd have to work on her bedside manner. Audrey snorted. A bit later, Christine heard a rustling and shot up. Her heart raced until she saw that it was Audrey unwrapping a chocolate bar in noisily chewing chunks. Audrey offered up a piece, and Christine took it gladly. She hadn't had dinner. She was starting to enjoy the odd taste.

Maybe it was fruit-infused? When Audrey said, By the way, that's mushroom chocolate. Christine spat it out, feeling betrayed. Audrey shrugged. Trey had sold it to her, and she wanted to live an upper-stall experience. If no real demons were there, at least she'd have a freaky time anyway. Christine gritted her teeth. Audrey thought this was a big joke. She pulled out her phone with a sour expression and saw. It was midnight.

It was already quiet in the chapel, yet somehow it got quieter, like someone had dragged a weighted blanket over the room. Christine could hear every creak, every rustle, every termite eating away at the rotting wood. Then, a whisper echoed through the chapel. "Audrey!" the girls gasped. Christine asked, "Did Audrey hear that?" Audrey looked like she was going to say no when the whisperer said her name again. "Audrey!" Christine said maybe they should leave

It didn't sound human. Audrey raised an eyebrow. No, wait, it did sound familiar. In fact, it sounded like Christine. The same frantic whisper she used whenever Audrey accidentally passed out and locked Christine out of their dorm.

Christine stammered while Audrey just pulled out her phone and tapped it. Suddenly, a ping ran out across the chapel, and the whispers were replaced with a song from her Spotify playlist. In Ariana Grande banger, God is a Woman, Audrey laughed and ran to the back of the room. She pushed aside an oddly thick pile of cobwebs to find the Bluetooth speaker that Christine had hidden.

Audrey turned off the speaker. She said, Nice trick. But Christine was sloppy. The bloody marks she'd shown her earlier looked too red, like stage blood. Oh, and the cobwebs were too clean, and they still smelled like that plastic packaging. Christine looked down at her feet, speechless, running with shame, disgusted with herself, and weak in the face of Audrey's entirely justified skepticism. Audrey wandered past the crooked cross to the apse at the front of the chapel.

She stopped laughing and let out a low whistle. She called out, "Nice job with the trapdoor, though. At least this looked realistic." Christine whipped around, alarmed. She had no idea what she meant. She rushed to Audrey, who was looking at a pair of wooden doors set in the wall, like the entrance to a storm cellar. There were carvings in the doors. Runes, maybe. Or the etchings of a madman. Christine felt wrongness pulsing off it and told Audrey to stay back.

This door was not here earlier. Audrey laughed. Yeah, right. She banged on it with her foot and cooed. Satan, honey, I'm home. There was a clang. Then the doors blew open.

This message is sponsored by Greenlight. There are so many phases of raising a kid, some of them harder than others. Like the diaper and bottle phase, I'm good on that never being a thing we have to do ever again. Ditto. Some phases are incredibly fun, like when your kid begins to understand your absurd sense of humor and you start to riff off each other. That's a blast.

Mm-hmm.

The thing is, kids don't really understand how money works until they are in charge of it themselves. Yes. And that's where Greenlight comes in. While our kids are bigger now and we already laid a solid foundation for them, we sure do wish we'd had a tool like Greenlight to help support us and our kids.

We set up a Greenlight account with our nephew and were blown away by how easy it was. Not only that, Greenlight teaches lessons about compound interest, a concept we so strongly support. Absolutely. You can learn about money alongside your kids with Greenlight. Start your risk-free Greenlight trial today at greenlight.com slash scared. That's greenlight.com slash scared to get started. greenlight.com slash scared.

Lindsay Lou does the majority of the grocery shopping in our house. It's not that I don't like going to the market, but rather I come back with all of the classic junk food and not much of the healthy stuff. And even when I try to pick out a better, cleaner, healthier version, I struggle. There are so many things hidden in our foods that

that I just kind of give up. I understand entirely. It can be really hard and really exhausting to find fun, yummy snacks that satisfy your cravings while also not doing harm to your body. I love a sweet treat, and I also love a salty snack. I mean, I just love food. But between the hidden sugars and the confusing labels, well, it's just overwhelming. When we made the choice to eat better as a family, we started to shop for all of our snacks at Thrive Market.

They make it so easy to pick family-friendly snacks, all from the comfort of our couch. I've been loving all of the fun snacks from Lesser Evil, like the cheesy Spaceballs and Tangy Moo Onions. I love all things cinnamon and sugar, so when I found the Pipcorn Cinnamon Sugar Twits, I about died and went to snack heaven.

Are you ready for a junk-free start to 2025? Head to thrivemarket.com slash scaredtodeath and get 30% off your first order, plus a free $60 gift. That's T-H-R-I-V-E market.com slash scaredtodeath. Thrivemarket.com slash scaredtodeath.

Have you ever gotten a notice from your big wireless carrier that they are ending your savings program or that you suddenly no longer qualify for a discount despite not changing a single thing? We have. And that's part of what caused us to switch to Mint Mobile. Mint Mobile has so many plans to choose from, it's easy to find one that fits your needs and the needs of your family. For us, we have five people on our plan, so we just assumed that we were getting the best bundle out there because of how many people we had on our plan. Turns out, nope.

Mint Mobile is saving us hundreds of dollars every single month. It's so much money that I can now spend on other things I love. If you like your money, Mint Mobile is for you. Shop plans at mintmobile.com slash scared. That's mintmobile.com slash scared.

The girl saw a stone stairwell. It looked old, not colonial, biblical, and it led down into total darkness.

Christine grabbed Audrey and told her they had to get out. Audrey rolled her eyes. It was probably just a basement. Besides, her shrooms were hitting. It was the perfect time for a good scare. Way better than the one Christine tried to give her. Audrey wriggled out of Christine's grip. She raised her phone flashlight, then went down the stairs. She just started to say that it smelled weird. When the door slammed shut behind her, Audrey let out a muffled scream, and Christine dropped to the ground.

She pushed and pulled at the doors, but they wouldn't budge. She'd gotten her roommate trapped on the stairway to hell. Christine banged the doors and yelled Audrey's name. After too long, she heard Audrey respond. She sounded like she'd gone down 20 steps at least. Christine told her to come back. If they both tried to work the door, they'd get it to budge. In a strange voice, Audrey said she couldn't. The stairs don't go up, only down.

Christine scoffed. Maybe those mushrooms were making Audrey believe in nonsense. But all she had to do was turn around and go up? Audrey let out a panicked giggle. There weren't stairs behind her anymore. Just in front of her, she said she saw a warm orange light deep at the bottom and a smell like sulfur. A chill went down Christine's back. It sounded a hell of a lot like fire and brimstone.

Audrey whispered, I have to go. Someone's calling my name. Then there was silence. Christine's heart began to pound. She scrambled up to grab the Bluetooth speaker. It was decently heavy, so she threw it at the doors. It bounced back like the doors were made of rubber and hit her in the head.

Christine felt blood trickle into her eyes. She thought about calling Trey or the cops, but she wasn't sure they'd believe her. No, there was only one person she could turn to. So Christine fell to her knees and prayed. She begged God for forgiveness, for the strength to rescue Audrey. Christine heard the inner voice again, only this time it sounded nasty and amused. Why ask God when you're knocking at my door?

Christine realized the voice that had been guiding her wasn't faith. It wasn't God or a guardian angel. It was the devil. She'd played right into his hands. But she had a frenemy to rescue. So she pleaded with Satan to enter his domain. The whisperer asked, What will you give me? Christine spoke aloud. A fair fight. A rumble filled the chapel. The big wooden cross fell off his stand to hang upside down.

The cellar doors burst open and the voice said, "Come on down." Christine made the sign of the cross and stepped into the stairwell. As the door slammed shut behind her, she descended into hell. Christine went down about ten steps. Then she made the mistake of looking back. It was just like Audrey said.

There were no stairs behind her anymore. The exit to the chapel seemed to recede, like it was mocking her. Christine told herself she'd been preparing for this her whole life. Believers talked a big game about fighting off the devil. She was going to do it for real. So she kept going down, even if she couldn't see in the dark. She recited the Lord's Prayer for comfort, but the stairs didn't like that. They quivered under her feet, threatening to turn into quicksand.

and Christine decided to pray silently. After minutes, or maybe hours, the air grew acrid with brimstone. Christine saw the bottom of the stairs, a red-orange glow she was drawn to like a moth to a flame. She hurried down, going way too fast. She tripped and tried to steady herself, but when Christine grabbed at the walls, her flesh sizzled. She screamed and went tumbling. She landed in a stone hallway,

one soul full of smoke that she couldn't see the end of it. As she pulled herself up, she saw that the walls were made of bones. Through the cracks, Christine saw fire and lava pulsing. Sweat poured down her brow, and she felt like she was in an oven. There were etchings on the bones in all the holy languages, Arabic and Sanskrit, Aramaic and Hebrew, a phrase repeated over and over again.

She didn't know what it meant until she saw it written in English. Abandon hope, all ye who enter here. She heard a whimper and squinted. There was a lump on the ground, a hundred feet away, one that was moving. Christine gathered her strength. She staggered down the corridor, picking up speed. Bursts of sulfurous vapor shot from the walls like they were trying to stop her, which they were.

She held her breath and rushed through the vapor to find a bruised, bleeding Audrey. Christine knelt by her, and Audrey looked up. Her mad eyes darted around, and she babbled to herself. When Christine asked if she was okay, Audrey laughed hysterically. Then she went deathly quiet and whispered, "'I saw the devil.' Christine asked, "'Where?' Audrey pointed right at her. "'It's you. You're the devil.'

Christine felt a horrific pang of guilt. Of course Audrey thought that. She was the one who'd let her here. Audrey burst into tears and clawed at Christine's shirt. She told her she was sorry. She shouldn't have made fun. She was wrong. And she learned her lesson. Now she just wanted to go home, to be safe with her mom and dad.

Despite the heat, Christine shivered. She didn't know much about Audrey, but in their brief moment of bonding, before everything went wrong, Audrey had said that she never wanted to go home, never wanted to see her parents. Now Christine knew, this wasn't Audrey, this was the devil. The so-called Audrey started laughing. Her giggles echoed and warped, deepening into a demonic cackle,

Christine was terrified, but she couldn't back down. So she reached out, slammed her hand over the creature's mouth, and told the devil to shut the hell up. Where was Audrey? The devil looked at Christine, intrigued. Then he said, Audrey was in hell. Her version of hell. Just like Christine was in her own hell right now. That's what hell was. Facing your demons. Forever. Alone.

Christine went quiet, and she looked Satan in the eyes and said she didn't believe in him. She didn't believe in him either. If it meant saving Audrey, then she'd give up her faith, the good and the bad parts. Christine ripped off her cross necklace and told him he had no power over her now. The devil shrieked while she stood up and screamed Audrey's name. She heard stones grinding, bones shifting, and

Then a wall rose up, making the endless hallway not so endless anymore. There was a wooden door at the center of it. From within, Audrey cried out. Christine stood up and ran to the door. The handle seared her skin, but she paid it no mind. She swung it open and went into Audrey's version of hell. First there was a bright light, then it faded, and Christine found herself in an empty church.

It was small, old, and smelled like it was rotting. Outside, the summer sun scorched an ugly backwoods forest. She heard someone weeping from a half-open door behind the apse. She crept toward it and peered inside. Christine saw a younger Audrey, maybe 13 or 14 years old.

She sat in a chair while an old preacher, sallow-skinned and vicious, held a metal cross to her forehead and berated her. He screamed, but no sound came out of his mouth. Christine could barely hear him. It was muffled like a dream or a memory. The preacher pointed at Audrey, and Christine realized Audrey was pregnant.

There was another flash of light. Christine was in the same room, but now it was snowing outside. Audrey held an infant on her arms. The priest reached over, ripped it away, and handed it to a severe-looking woman. She walked out, and Audrey wailed. The priest stood over her with the cross again and spoke, but his words did not seem kind.

Audrey looked to the back of the room, desperate. A man and a woman. Her parents stared back, stern and uncaring. Christine wasn't too sure what happened, but she got the idea. Audrey had an accident. She went to her parents and her preacher for help, and they punished her. Of course Audrey ran away. Of course she hated religion now. It had never shown her any love. Fury bubbled up within Christine, and she shouted Audrey's name.

It cut through the muffled sound. The preacher went quiet, staring at Christine with menace in his eyes. Audrey turned back, stunned to see her. Christine told her this was just a lie, a trick. She had to fight her way out. Audrey shook her head. She was too weak. No matter where she went, she'd always be trapped here. Maybe she deserved to be.

The preacher started laughing, and the sound drove Christine insane. She couldn't stop herself. She ran up, grabbed the metal cross from his hand, and stabbed it into the preacher's throat. He screamed. It sounded like a thousand demons dying. Christine ran over and pulled Audrey up from her chair. She told her it was going to be okay. She'd killed the devil for her. A final flash of light lit up the room.

And Christine and Audrey found themselves back in the Hall of Bones. All that was left of Audrey's hell was the bloody cross in Christine's hand. Audrey clutched at Christine and thanked her, with a glint of mania in her eyes. She believed now. Christine wasn't so sure that was a good thing. The hall started to quake. Bones clattered down, and lava seeped through the cracks. This place was going to blow soon, and Christine had no idea how to get them out.

Audrey took the cross from her. She cried out for God's mercy, with more passion than Christine had ever seen from anyone at church. And suddenly, the stairwell appeared. Audrey grabbed Christine's arm and bolted. The girls ran, faster and faster as the stairs collapsed behind them. Soon they saw the doors to the chapel-installed cemetery. Audrey burst into a delirious laugh.

So did Christine. They were going to make it out, but just as they reached the doors, someone pulled them open and a shadowy figure reared up inside the chapel to bar them from coming out. A horned figure. Christine stopped in her tracks, but Audrey kept going. With a frenzied cry, she launched herself out of the stairwell and onto the horned figure.

They both toppled to the ground. She raised the cross and drove it into his chest. Over and over. Christine scrambled out of the stairwell in a screaming. Audrey wasn't stabbing a demon. She was stabbing her boyfriend, Trey, who was just wearing a cheap devil costume. Trey looked up at Christine. He reached out a pleading hand and gurgled. I just wanted to scare you both. Then he went quiet. Christine sank to the ground.

She barely jumped when the cellar door slammed shut and vanished. She couldn't take her eyes off Audrey. Her roommate sat on top of Trey's bloody corpse, smiling and whispering at Christine, I killed the devil just like you. I killed the devil just like you. Christine finished her story and broke down in sobs. See, when the police arrived, they arrested Audrey.

They couldn't find any evidence linking Christine to Trey's murder, so they cleared her. They certainly wouldn't believe her friend had pleased to check the chapel for a cellar door that never existed. The fact that Audrey had mushrooms in her system made it easy for them to believe she just had a psychotic break. Christine went to a priest hoping for a sympathetic ear, but he told her she was unwell. And if this was her version of faith, maybe she should stay away from the church.

Nobody believed Christine. Now, a year later, it was the spring equinox again, and Christine wanted my help. She wanted to see if the doors would appear. She wanted me to see her go inside too, so someone would finally believe in her. I shook my head. If any of this was true, why would she want to go back to hell? Christine said I didn't get it. She wanted to use the doors to leave.

Because now she was certain. She was still in hell. She'd never left. I wasn't sure what to say. Either this girl was nuts or I was a figment in her own personal hell, which was too scary to consider. Still, she looked so sad, so lost. Figment or not, I couldn't just say no outright. So I told Christine she could go into the chapel, do what she needed to do, wait for a door to appear or escape.

Or just grieve for two almost friends who'd met a tragic ending. I'd wait in the car as long as she needed me to. Christine thanked me, then ran off into the Stull Cemetery. We all go through our own versions of hell. The demons and memories and regrets that haunt us when nobody's around. I wasn't sure if Christine would come back, but I figure I owed it to her to stick around, at least for a bit.

Sometimes, the thing that pulls you out of hell is knowing you're not alone. Run Fool is a production of Ballin Studios, Campside Media, and Atwell Media. It is hosted and executive produced by me, Rodney Barnes. This episode was written by Amin Osman and produced by Abakar Adan.

Editing by Abakar Adan. Sound director, designer, and mixer is Kevin Seaman. Coordinating producer is Avery Siegel. And artwork by Jessica Claxton-Kiner. Production support by Jeremy Bone and Cole Lacascio. Special thanks to our operations team, Doug Slavin, Ashley Warren, Sabina Mara, and Destiny Dingle.

Executive producers at Ballin Studios are Mr. Ballin, Nick Witters, and Zach Levin. Executive producer at At Will Media is Will Malnati. Executive producers at Campside Media are Matt Scher, Josh Dean, Vanessa Gregoriadis, and Adam Hoff. Thanks for listening, and see you next week.

If you enjoyed that episode of Run, Fool, head over to the show and hit that follow button so you don't miss any of the terrifying new episodes. New episodes come out every Tuesday. Thanks for listening to Run, Fool.