Sure, your house may have broadband and a pretty sweet ice maker, but does it scream? Probably not. But don’t worry, there’s a house out there that does scream so your house doesn’t have to. Behold! The Union Screaming House, a severely haunted house in Union, Missouri, about five miles from where Clayton grew up. And he’s fine! So you will be too.

This is the Union Screaming House. Come for the ghost, stay for the Old Enough anxiety, schools that teach that deer are people, some shots Patrick fires at Thomas Kinkade, and ghost doggies, who are all very good boys.

Ah, Memphis. Famous for its blues, its martialized ducks, and its escape-hatch-house gold-burying dead-haunts. You know the ones I mean.

This week, we explore the strange history and the confounding truth of the ghost of the Hunt-Phelan house in Memphis, Tennessee. Come for the ghost, stay for the finer points of land surveyoring, stupid shit they did in the 1800s, the surprising mobility of yellow fever, and the absolute blight of the pee-troughs in Wrigley Field.

Everyone knows America invented ghosts, but what you may not know is that Canada has one too! This week, we’re exploring our first international ghost, Bishop Charles Seghers of Vancouver Island, who set out to spread the Good Word, then somehow lost his face. It’s a real cautionary tale about evangelism.

This is the story of The Skull-Faced Bishop. Come for the ghost, stay for the good golden lump rocks, the surprising difference between soup and bones, and actual audio of an actual spittake when this whole episode goes completely off the rails.

It’s hard to focus on the ghost story when the main character’s name is Zona. It’s just such a cool name. Find a cooler name for a ghost than Zona, we dare you. Eeent, buzzer sound, wrong, you couldn’t. Anyway, her name was as cool as her death was garbage, so that’s the downside of this whole thing. We can’t say much more, because we don’t want to give it away. This is a true crime podcast, okay, and every listener is now a legally-deputized officer of the law. (Sorry.)

This is the story of the Greenbriar Ghost. Come for the ghost, stay for the extra-planky whiskey, the sex appeal of blacksmiths, and the only four possible causes of death.

Out on the coastal edge of the Carolinas, there is a gray, gloomy ghost who is either a deadly harbinger of doom or a really nice meteorologist.

Come for the ghost; stay for storied marshes, Jimmy Deathmud, intimate horse love, and I don’t think horses can be ghosts.

Just try to think of a better name for a ghost than “the Bell Witch.” You can’t do it. Don’t even try. Forget what I said earlier, do not even try. The spirit that haunted John Bell and his family back in the early 1800s is a classic American ghost, absolutely chock-a-block with piss and vinegar. She also hangs out in a cave, which is pretty dope. Come for the terrifying tale of the witch; stay for the questionable way doctors tested the lethality of poisons in the 19th Century. The only thing scarier than this week’s story of the Bell Witch is Patrick’s hernia issues, about which he goes into surprising detail for reasons that are, as of yet, unknown.

Sure, you’ve heard of hitchhikers, but have you heard of hitchhiker ghosts?! Oh, you have? Well, aren’t you something. Anyway, join us for a little jaunt up to Chicagoland for the story of Resurrection Mary, one of the most famous American hitchhiker ghosts on record. Come for the ghost, stay for the pre-polio lovin’, dumb suburb names, and, for some reason, butt injections. We’ll also finally answer the question, “Wait, you think crocodiles lurk?”

Deep in the suburban land of Lululemon and labradoodles lies the lonesome and loathesome Zombie Road. Are there zombies there? No. Is it a road? Not really. Are there ghosts? Oh, my, yes. Join us, won’t you? As we go for a stroll down eastern Missouri’s most haunted road.

Not all ghosts can be not related to early 20th century insane asylums. So here’s one that is! California’s Turnbull Canyon has quite a few ghost stories to tell, and it’s high time we told one. This story is a short lil guy, so we’re calling it a ghostie, which is a super-cute word, but don’t worry, there are still plenty of jokes and chicanery.

Come for the ghosts, stay for the time we got trapped in Laurel Canyon, a lovely trip down Return to Oz lane, and Patrick’s disdain for teenage Angelenos.

Bump on down to Birmingham-town, as the kids say, and learn all about the horrible haunting of Sloss Furances, where the ghosts are exhausted and the murderer is capitalism. Subjects include: Patrick’s weird voice, that melting scene in Terminator 2, and the three names people are allowed to have. Come for the jokes, stay for the sound of Clayton’s noisy basement ghost at the 04:12 mark.