This is True Crime Kit.

The Meanest Man in America.

He drove a hearse, and there's a lot to be said about this sadistic little shit, a lot

that is true, a lot that is false.

But we know for certain that he owned a deathmobile, that he boasted at the swampy

backwoods, clap-boarded bars he frequented, the same thing that was proudly displayed on

his hearse's big black backside, and I laughed because that senate crude and racial it wasn't

meant to be.

I don't mean to sound like a pee-wee gaskins type.

What was displayed on the back of the hearse was a sign that said, I haul dead bodies, and

nobody took it too serious, but they should have.

For pee-wee gaskins, as small as he was in stature, the heights of his depravity have rarely

been matched.

Don't rush more of serial killers, but include Bundy, Dahmer, Ramirez and Gacy.

That's mine, and I know it's sick, that it's debatable, that there's a fun conversation

to be had there.

So when you know doubt, have it, once I get out of the way here again in a moment, recall

this up and down look by TCK, because unlike a BTK, a GSK, or a Gary Ridgeway, pee-wee

gaskins often, gets overlooked, because he's short.

That's one for the operator.

That was a familiar voice that brought us in there, huh?

That was pleasant.

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