On November 22, 2004, the police dispatch officer in Plano, Texas, received a strange and troubling phone call from a frightened pre-school teacher. Though the caller refused to divulge her name, she told the officer on the line that one of the children who attended the daycare was in grave danger of being killed by her mother. The anxious caller insisted the police ring Deena Schlosser, a well known town eccentric, and ask her about the welfare of her young daughter, Margaret. Keen to ease the caller’s fears, the dispatch officer dutifully rang Schlosser and asked her if everything was alright. Deena simply sighed deeply and replied over the phone “I cut off my daughter’s arms. She is dead now. Thank you Jesus”
A police squad was immediately sent to the Schlosser house. Deena’s husband was away, and she was caring for their three children alone. When officers entered the home they discovered a very calm and serene Deena sitting on the sofa, covered in blood. She was singing hymns, stroking her arms, and seemed quite unaware of her surroundings. When police asked to see baby Margaret she led them to her bedroom, where they found the baby sprawled on the bed. Margaret’s arms had been removed just below the shoulder, and sadly she had died from her injuries. Deena was heard chanting “Thank you Jesus, thank you Lord” as police led her to a car. Two other daughters whom were in the house at the time were unharmed.
From her first interview it became apparent that Deena Schlosser was in the grips of psychosis; she talked told a psychiatrist that God told her to cut off her baby’s arms and that Margaret spoke to her from heaven. Deena spoke of seeing a news story on television about a boy who was mauled by lions, and decided the apocalypse would happen unless she “gave” Margaret to God. A look at her medical records showed a long history of depression, paranoia, and post-partum psychosis. Just a day after Margaret’s birth Deena attempted to kill herself, and had attempted to give the baby to strangers on a number of occasions. During her psychiatric assessment, it came out that Deena’s husband John had narcissistic personality traits and didn’t try to find help for her or a safe place for their children. On the day Margaret died, John Schlosser was supposed to pick her up and take her out so Deena could attend a bipolar group therapy session.
Unsurprisingly, Deena Schlosser was found not guilty by reason of insanity and sent to a mental institution. While she was there she allegedly befriended famous child-killer Andrea Yates, and the two shared a room. Because her sentence did not carry a minimum term period, Deena was declared mentally competent just six years after killing Margaret, and sent to an outpatient program. In 2010 she completed all her outpatient programs and entered the world a free woman, albeit one that must take her daily medication or otherwise face imprisonment.
And here’s a new installment of PPG Evolution! This time it’s on the Girl’s teacher Miss Keane! Yeah looking back she kinda looks odd in “Meat Fuzzy Lumpkins”, and here’s a pic of her in the series and was given a name, then here’s how she looks in the movie/post-movie series. She appears as the girls’ Junior High teacher in PPGZ and she has a underground monster for a boyfriend (sorry Mojo!). The final pic is how she looks in the 2016 series.
Like Bubbles she was voiced by Kath Soucie in “Meat Fuzzy Lumpkins” but for reasons I’m trying to figure out Kath no longer voices Miss Keane and Bubbles so Jennifer Hale took over the role for the rest of the franchise while Tabitha St Germain is Miss Keane in the rarely seen english dub of PPGZ.
As many of you art lovers can guess, yes she is named after Margaret D. H. Keene, the creator of those pictures with the big eyed waifs and the focus of “Tim Burton’s Big Eyes”.
Can you please do a fic where Liz and ressler have a baby and ressler is annoyed because red keeps referring to the baby as his grandchild?
As always this is probably not what you were expecting, so I’m sorry anon :)
His heart is beating a hundred of times per second.
“Pick up. Come on, pick up,” he says while nervously tapping on the steering wheel with his fingers.
Here’s the thing. Liz is at the other side of the country with Samar working on a case, so it’s Ressler’s turn to pick up Peggy from the daycare. As it usually happens while working on a case, Ressler was a little bit late so he called to inform them.
What they told him almost froze the blood in his veins.
“Oh, don’t worry. Her grandpa already came for her.”
What the fuck? Her grandpa?
His daughter doesn’t have a grandpa!
It takes him almost two minutes of panicking and screaming over the phone, threatening to suit that fucking place for handing over his daughter to a complete stranger, before he realizes what is going on.
He is going to kill him.
“Yes,” Dembe finally says at the other end of the phone.
It was not small thing, even for Margaret, to get ahold of her son, particularly since his current domicile was a supernatural and magical prison in the middle of Lake Michigan, a prison that would not allow the opening of Ways near it– or was Margaret keen to see what that particular location looked like in Faerie.
His brother was finally convinced to relay a message, since calling was out of the question for either of them. Margaret waited at the pier on the appointed day and time, keeping a weather eye out for the approach of her youngest son in the… whatever silly name he and his brother had come up with for their boat.
A/N: Guys, I received so much love for my last chapter I don’t know how I can possibly thank you all. Every time my phone lit up with a little notification or message or tag or like it made my day. Also, yes, each chapter has a Greek deity theme. Not really sure why. Just go with it. Also as you’ll find out I’ve sort of taken liberties with certain characters, not out of character, just… Just go with it.
Question: what nickname do Americans use to mock the English? All I could find that I felt applied was ‘brit’ and it feels so weird to not be able to use 'pommy bastard’.
Checking her watch Emma decided that five more minutes and she’d definitely get back to her work.
She’d been trying to do just that for the last twenty minutes, but she was sure that in five minutes time she’d be ready.
Emma collapsed her head into the nook of her elbow, arms crossed upon her desk, and shut her eyes.
There were some days that Emma loved her new job. Days where the biggest problems she had to deal with were disinterested children skipping classes. She’d only been living the counselling life for - what was it, five weeks? Five years ago she had been a bail bondsperson and while she had decided to move on from it, it had also been a satisfying career move. She had loved chasing down creeps and fools, and being paid reasonably to do so. She was not blind though – she knew the whole exercise had been somewhat self-serving. Bail bondsing had scattered some earth in a certain emotional trench.