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Hello and welcome back to Cult Leader. I'm your Cult Leader Spencer Henry and today we are going to spill some major tea in Notting Hill.

Where's my London Babes at? I actually have a lot to talk to you guys about, but I will make it short, of course.

Okay, one, tomorrow I am releasing a trailer for another show that is on the morbid network with me and it's called Seven Deadly Sinners. It is hosted by a girl named Rachel O'Brien.

It's awesome. I'm gonna share it. Make sure you guys check her show out.

Two, I recorded a podcast with someone who you guys won't expect last week for their show and that comes out in the next week or two, I believe.

So follow along online at Cult Leader Podcast and at Spencer Henry for all of that and last but certainly not least this Thursday January 28th, I am releasing something that I have.

I'm just so excited about it. Very, very, very excited. Have not been so excited for something since I launched Cult Leader and it's actually killing me that I cannot tell you yet.

I want to tell you so bad, but I can't, but I will on Thursday and you guys are gonna just fucking love it. I think I hope.

I think that's, oh, one more thing actually. On February 8th is my 100th episode and I'm so excited for you guys to hear who I'm recording it with.

Can you believe we are turning 100? We look great. A lot of you guys have already guessed it and I think you guys are gonna be excited.

I will gush about how much I love you all then. This is not the time for it, okay? On to the story.

Today we are talking about a man named John Christie and what a creep. He was born on April 8th of 1899 in Northoram and he was the sixth of seven children born to earnest John Christie and his wife Edith.

John's dad was a carpet designer who kept to himself a lot and was apparently pretty emotionally unavailable during the children's upbringing.

He would often lash out at them and sometimes without any sort of reason at all. And while he didn't have a positive relationship with his father, his mom and older sisters

babyed the hell out of him and showed him a lot of affection. In school he was a smart kid. Around 11 he won a scholarship to Halifax secondary school in West Yorkshire and excelled in mathematics, history, woodwork.

He also sang in the church choir was a boy scout like we're talking a pretty good kid here, pretty well-rounded. He was a bit of a hypochondriac, which hey, what are you talking about? I've never heard of that.

The first run in with death was in 1911, the same year that he won that scholarship to go to that other school. His grandfather David Holiday, who was 75 years old, succumbed to a long-term illness and died in the living room.

Now his relationship with his grandfather was pretty similar to that of his own father. It was cold, distant. They weren't throwing the ball around the front yard by any means.

He was given the option of whether or not he wanted to see his grandfather's body and without hesitation he said yes. He later recalled feeling power and relief upon seeing his grandfather's corpse laid out on the table.

Now this could be a cathartic thing. I mean, I guess if somebody was pretty awful to you, it'd be like, oh they're gone. It's over. I do think it's kind of a strange concept though, seeing somebody after they die.

There's arguments that are totally valid one way or the other, but I personally typically am like, no, I'm good. I don't need to see the person like that. I'll just remember them how they were. No one's allowed to look at me.

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