Oct 10, 2026 · 17 min · 9 segments
What happens when a 100% Goth girl who sleeps in a dark place gets trapped in an all-pink school full of plastic Barbies? 💖 Love this story? Support us with a ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ rating! 💬 What do you think…
I was enjoying a peaceful nap in my coffin, when out of nowhere, these annoying whispers totally ruined my vibe.
What on earth is that creepy black thing? Is it dead? Why is this thing at our school? I bolted awake and realized I'd been teleported to this bizarre, aggressively pink, cringe-worthy school.
And worse, I was surrounded by a literal mob of plastic dolls.
Let me explain how a girl wearing literally all black ended up in this pastel pink doll hellscape.
I was born into a family that's been in the funeral business for generations.
And yeah, we were straight up authentic goths.
The problem was, we were the only goths in a town full of people obsessed with the color pink.
We loved having dinner with the deceased, taking our pet crows for walks instead of dogs, and we had this whole aesthetic of trimming our hedges into skulls.
But honestly, beneath that dark vibe, my family was the most dedicated in the entire town.
My parents always taught me...
Death is the ultimate, most peaceful sanctuary, and every soul deserves to be sent off in their truest colors.
We didn't just bury people.
We fully personalized every single funeral to help the deceased fulfill their final wishes.
But of course, in the eyes of these pastel-obsessed counties, we were just a bunch of weirdos obsessed with death, like walking bad omens.
Stay away from us, you freak of death! Get out of this town! Yeah,
get out! Leave!
So to protect our family's peace, my parents made a decision.
If they were so obsessed with superstitions and ghost stories, we were going to give them exactly what they wanted.
That's right.
My parents literally built a year-round fog machine system with their bare hands.
They invested in a whole surround sound speaker setup that blasted creepy wailing noises from underground.
And the final special treat for any uninvited guests? Ah! Help me!
A demon! Run!
Thanks to that, we constantly got to laugh our heads off and we lived peacefully in our little dark nest for years.
I was enjoying a peaceful nap in my coffin, when out of nowhere, these annoying whispers totally ruined my vibe.
What on earth is that creepy black thing? Is it dead? Why is this thing at our school? I bolted awake and realized I'd been teleported to this bizarre, aggressively pink, cringe-worthy school.
And worse, I was surrounded by a literal mob of plastic dolls.
Let me explain how a girl wearing literally all black ended up in this pastel pink doll hellscape.
I was born into a family that's been in the funeral business for generations.
And yeah, we were straight up authentic goths.
The problem was, we were the only goths in a town full of people obsessed with the color pink.
We loved having dinner with the deceased, taking our pet crows for walks instead of dogs, and we had this whole aesthetic of trimming our hedges into skulls.
But honestly, beneath that dark vibe, my family was the most dedicated in the entire town.
My parents always taught me...
Death is the ultimate, most peaceful sanctuary, and every soul deserves to be sent off in their truest colors.
We didn't just bury people.
We fully personalized every single funeral to help the deceased fulfill their final wishes.
But of course, in the eyes of these pastel-obsessed counties, we were just a bunch of weirdos obsessed with death, like walking bad omens.
Stay away from us, you freak of death! Get out of this town! Yeah,
get out! Leave!
So to protect our family's peace, my parents made a decision.
If they were so obsessed with superstitions and ghost stories, we were going to give them exactly what they wanted.
That's right.
My parents literally built a year-round fog machine system with their bare hands.
They invested in a whole surround sound speaker setup that blasted creepy wailing noises from underground.
And the final special treat for any uninvited guests? Ah! Help me!
A demon! Run!
Thanks to that, we constantly got to laugh our heads off and we lived peacefully in our little dark nest for years.
The rest of this transcript — segmented and speaker-labeled, so you land on the exact moment something was said
Search every transcript — by keyword, by phrase, or by meaning, across every show Radar indexes
Trends — what is surging across podcasts, measured against its own baseline
Alerts — when a name you follow appears in a newly indexed episode
No account is needed to search Radar.
