A Netflix documentary shows the worst housemates ever, from serial killers to con artists.
And you thought you had a lousy roommate.
The new Netflix docuseries “Worst Roommate Ever,” which premieres on March 1, is about a lot more than lousy roommates who play loud music at weird hours or don’t do their fair part of the housework. The show’s dark, scary stories will make you appreciate roommates who commit no bigger crime than being careless, from a granny-type who is actually a serial killer to a violent accused con guy who attacked his housemate and left her for dead covered in a tarp on a construction site. Take a peek around.
Granny, serial murderer
Judy, a now-retired social worker, came upon a boarding house owned by Dorothea Puente in 1988 while assisting Alvaro “Bert” Gonzales Montoya, a man diagnosed with schizophrenia, find a home in Sacramento, California.
“She appeared to be really kind. Judy recalls in the documentary, “She had a box of kittens, and she had small bottles of milk that she was feeding them.” “We were impressed, and we said to ourselves, ‘She’s nice.'” Puente explained to Judy that she was self-sufficiently rich and enjoyed assisting others.
Puente’s boarding home came well recommended, and Bert appeared to be in capable hands. The landlady had a reputation for accepting boarders with mental illnesses or drunkenness and providing a safe haven while they paid her rent with Social Security payments.
In the video, Detective John Cabrera of the Sacramento Police Department notes, “Dorothea Puente was liked by her community and adored by local leaders.” “She would provide garments to a local charity and donate to them in bags.” She was taking in all of these folks and looking after her neighbours. She was distributing free food to the community.
When Judy went to check on Bert a few months later, Puente told her an unbelievable narrative about how he had travelled to Mexico. When Judy followed up with another boarder in the house, John Sharp, and inquired if anything was wrong, “he answered, ‘Yeah, something is wrong here… she’s been digging a lot of holes,'” Judy remembered.
Puente was a serial murderer who died in 2011 at the age of 82. When Judy informed the police about Bert’s disappearance, they discovered disturbed dirt and seven dead on her property. She was accused of nine murders, including Bert’s, and it was determined that she had injected her victims with drugs. It was also revealed that she had a history of prostitution, fraud, drugging and theft, and impersonating a doctor, although records were not as readily available in the 1980s as they are now. “Until 1988, no one was keeping an eye on her,” Cabrera added.
“At first glance, you could assume, ‘This might be my grandma.'”
The serial killer’s obsession
Maribel Ramos, a 36-year-old college student and army veteran in Orange, California, encountered Kwang Chol “K.C.” Joy, then 55, through a Craigslist post while she was seeking a roommate. In response to her message, he said, “I am a Korean single professional guy.” “I have a ten-pound dog.” Yorkie… I prefer to keep things tidy. I am a laid-back person who gets along with most people.”
Ramos and Joy had an agreeable roommate relationship despite their age gap when Ramos was studying criminal justice at California State University, Fullerton.
In the documentary, Ramos’ sister, Lucero “Lucy” Gonzalez, 30, claimed, “He appeared like a sweet elderly man.” “He informed me that he has no family, that he has never married, that he has never had children… she can work and go to school without worrying about the things that you worry about when you have a younger roommate…” It seems like it would be a nice match.”
Gonzalez began to feel worried about her sister’s living circumstances when Joy phoned her and admitted that he was in love with Ramos after a few months.
“He begins by saying, ‘I know your sister wants to marry and raise a family.’ ‘I’d want to be the man she’s seeking for.’ “I was taken aback,” she said. “‘You guys aren’t a match,’ I informed him. You’re older, and she’s a teenager. You are not the sort of companion she requires. ‘I’m sorry, but you’ll never get along with my sister like that.’
Gonzalez pleaded with Ramos to reconsider his decision to live with him. “If that’s the case, he can’t live with you any longer,” I remarked. He’s at her house, and you never know what may happen.”
Ramos promised Gonzalez that he wouldn’t have to worry about it, but his conduct grew unpredictable after that. Ramos, for example, came home with a large tiger tattooed on his arm after remarking that he would look nice with one. According to Orange County Police Department Detective Shawn Hayden, he allegedly spent more than $10,000 on plastic surgery to seem younger. “This strange conduct spiralled out of control, and K.C.’s affections for Maribel were not reciprocated… That, I believe, pushed him over the line. “I believe he snapped,” Hayden explained.
She phoned the police on April 21, 2013, 12 days before Ramos vanished, stating that she felt “threatened” when she talked to Joy about moving out since he stopped paying rent.
During the call, she remarked, “We had a talk today that sort of frightened me out.” “I’m not feeling at ease with him any longer…” He sounded as though he intended to harm me. I’m phoning to let you know that if something bad occurs, it was because I was defending myself.”
On May 2, 2013, Ramos vanished. Joy texted Gonzalez the next day, saying he was “worried” about Ramos and that he had contacted the cops since she hadn’t returned home that night.
Joy’s sister in Tennessee, who had a restraining order against him and characterised him as a “monster” with violent anger, was interviewed by police as part of their inquiry.
On May 17, 2013, Joy was charged with murder after Ramos’ corpse was discovered in a secluded canyon by police after they monitored his online activities at the local library. On July 29, 2014, he was sentenced to 15 years to life in prison. He is now housed at the Soledad Correctional Training Facility in California.
In the docuseries, Gonzalez states, “I simply knew he did something to her.” “I quickly pointed my finger at him.”
“The con man” is a captivating character.
Callie Quinn, a Texas native, was living in Santiago, Chile, in April 2011, teaching English and sharing a house with numerous foreign housemates. Youssef Khater, a Palestinian-Danish athlete who competed in marathons all over the globe, was one of them.
Quinn recalls in the documentary, “He was considerably older than any of us, we were all in our mid-20s, and he was like, 32.”
He enjoyed holding court and regaling his housemates with unbelievable tales of heroic actions committed while serving in the Danish special forces, according to Quinn. She was sceptical, and their relationship deteriorated as a result.
“I felt he was a bulls – – tter and told him so… he picked up on my dislike for him.” And that irritated him greatly because he is accustomed to everyone admiring him.”
Khater was a reputed scam artist who swindled people out of money for different pursuits, including funding his marathons, unbeknownst to Quinn. According to the programme, he fled Denmark rather than face charges of fraud and arson after allegedly defrauding people out of money in a hoax for a vacation to Dubai. According to officials, he offered to book tickets with their money, but his flat burnt down with the money inside.
Quinn wasn’t a fan of his back in 2011, but she had no idea that something more sinister was going on. Quinn complained to her friend and another American flatmate, Molly, about how their shared house didn’t have enough heat for the winter, and Khater said that he’d acquired condominiums with better accommodations and would rent them to the ladies. They handed him one month’s rent and a $1,000 security deposit, but Khater continued postponing their relocation, citing various reasons why the flats weren’t ready.
Quinn went out with Khater on July 20, 2011, to acquire the key to the apartment she’d be renting from him, and they celebrated with cocktails. He drank heavily, and it was discovered that he owed money to a number of individuals. He then lured her to a work site, where he assaulted her by hitting her in the head, jumping on top of her, and strangling her.
“I can’t do anything; I’m completely powerless,” she says onscreen. “I was thinking to myself, ‘This is how I die.'”
She remained asleep for an unknown amount of time, but when she awoke, she was wrapped in a tarp and coated in dirt and ash that he had dumped on top of her. He’d buried her alive, but she remarked, “not deep enough, I think.” “He wanted to make sure I couldn’t be found.” Nobody would have known where I was if I had died. “There would be no way to identify who I was if my corpse was discovered,” she explained, noting that he also removed her identification.
He was the first person she saw when she returned to the home, covered in ash, bewildered from her head injuries, and with a scratchy voice from being choked. “Thank God,” he murmured, feigning anxiety.
“We observed he was angrier that she was accusing him than that she was harmed,” Quinn’s friend Molly stated on-screen when Quinn informed her housemates what occurred.
Quinn was able to get a lawyer, and Youssef was sentenced to 541 days in prison for the attempted murder and 61 days in prison for fraud in 2012, according to Texas Monthly. He is now a free man.
Quinn stated, “It’s not over yet.” “It’s still going on someplace; we’re just not sure where.”