In the 1960s, Jasper Noodleman ran a funeral home in Goobersville, Indiana. The whole town loved him. But behind closed doors, he had a routine — invite customers to try out a coffin, slam it shut, lock it, and roll them straight into the incinerator. No body, no evidence. He did this for years. Then an elderly couple walked in. Their son had been one of his victims. They asked Jasper to get inside a casket so they could see what it looked like. He climbed in. They locked it. He never came out.
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