"Once upon a time,
there was a little princess,
"the most beautiful
little princess in all the land.
"Her hair was long and blonde,
"and her eyes were as brown
as the dark waters of the river
"which ran by her castle.
"But the little princess
was unhappy,
"for she was lonely.
"Someday she would find
her kind, handsome prince,
"and he would sweep her up
on a big white horse,
"and he would take her away
and marry her,
and they would live
happily ever after."
Hi, I'm Joyce McKinney,
and that's from my pending book,
A Very Special Love Story.
First of all, were you
surprised to be put in prison?
I really didn't feel
I'd done anything wrong.
I still don't feel
I did anything wrong.
I would never do anything
to hurt Kirk Anderson
or slander him.
In fact, in my book...
my book is handled
in a very tender, nice fashion.
It's not a porno story
like these crazy newspapers
have tried to make it.
It's a love story, you know?
And, I mean, I would
never do anything to hurt him
or to cause him any harm at all.
And the way
that they threw me in prison
and tried to act like
I was some sort of criminal
and present this image over
was really what got to me.
My life started out in
a small town in North Carolina.
I was one of these girls
who was gonna meet, you know,
an all-American guy
and get married
and have a little
Leave It to Beaver house
with a white picket fence
and just have
a great little life.
Started dating
very late in life.
Didn't start dating
till I was, like, 17.
Was in an accelerated program
for kids with high IQs.
How high was your IQ?
I hadn't been
out in the world much
till I went to Utah.
You know,
I hadn't been around much.
But there were a lot of men
attracted to you?
Well, I guess so.
I don't know.
I'm not that vain
that I would say...
but I wasn't looking
for just any guy.
I wanted a special guy.
I wanted
a special guy.
And he had to have
certain qualities.
There are plenty
of guys out there,
but I wanted a special guy.
I met this professor,
and he said,
"Well, I've got these
perfect guys for you,
"and they're just your type,
Joyce.
"They don't smoke,
and they don't drink,
"and they're clean-cut,
"and you're just going
to love them.
And why don't you come over
to my house and meet them?"
They were Mormons.
They didn't tell me
what Mormonism was all about.
He didn't say,
"We're a group that believes
"that Jesus was a polygamist
and was married
to Mary Magdalene."
He didn't say,
"We believe that God lives
on a star named Kolob."
He didn't say,
"We believe that black people
were cursed with
the mark of Cain."
They made me think
they were a church.
They made me think
that they were family-oriented.
And so I was drawn to them,
as a young 19-year-old teenager,
like a moth to a flame.
I was just so happy
to go to this place
where I thought
that I would have my pick
of just all-American friends,
people, husband material,
I guess.
I had a Corvette, and I had
a big old English sheepdog
that loved to ride
in the Corvette.
And I had a good friend.
Her name was Marilyn Clark.
There wasn't anything
Marilyn didn't do:
Smoke, drink,
have sex with Hells Angels.
I mean, this was a wild child.
We were exact opposites.
She used to call me
"Holier-Than-Thou McKinney"
because I was so straight.
We would cruise
the pizza parlor,
and we decided to cruise down
by Frosty's ice cream parlor.
And I noticed
this really handsome guy
driving alongside me also
in a Corvette, white Corvette.
And he kind of looks around
at me like he's watching me.
And I thought,
"Whoa, he's cute."
And I kept on driving,
and Marilyn goes,
"Hey, McKinn,
he's following you."
And I go, "He is?"
So I let him chase me.
He was quite aggressive.
And he pulled in beside me
and cleared his throat.
Then he goes, "Like your car."
I go, "Thanks.
I like yours too."
He goes,
"I really like yours better."
I go, "Want to drive it?"
When I met my Kirk,
it was like in the movies...
When the girl comes down
the stairs, and their eyes meet.
When Juliet looks at Romeo,
and it's... pkew!
That's how it was.
He had the most beautiful
blue eyes
and the sexiest smile,
and he always had
the cleanest skin.
Kirk Anderson
was a very big, rather flabby,
or attractive-looking man
in the accepted sense
of the word
who had a very shuffle-y
kind of walk,
the last person in the world
that you'd think would be
the object of this kind of
strange sexual passion.
He had known Joyce McKinney
in Salt Lake City,
and she had fallen in love
with him.
Fallen in love with him...
become obsessed by him,
because that's another thing
about Joyce is obsession.
I mean, she just obsesses
about things.
I don't know what
the details
of their relationship was
in Salt Lake City,
but they obviously had some kind
of romance or love affair,
because if one's to believe
Joyce at all,
he had promised her
a family and children.
He actually told me
he loved me
the first night I met him
and asked me to marry him
the second night,
and then the next thing I know,
we're naming our kids.
And we were gonna name 'em all
with Js and Ks:
J for "Joyce"
and Ks for "Kirk,"
Joshua, Jacob.
You know, we had the names
picked out.
Kyle, Kirk.
And I remember, he took me home
to meet his Mormon mother,
and she was this big,
oh, huge woman,
about 350 pounds
in a tent dress,
and she took one look at me
with my little
beauty queen figure,
and her eyes went up,
and her eyes went down,
and she goes, "She doesn't look
like a Mormon to me."
From the time
I was a little girl,
I was in pageants.
It gave me a chance
to develop myself
to be the best person
I could be
with my looks, with my talent,
with my personality.
The pageants gave me,
as a small-town girl,
the chance to perform.
So Mom thought
you were too sexy for him?
I guess she thought
I was too pretty or something.
Kirk and I were just ready
for the big wedding,
and everything was happy.
The only problem is,
I was wanting to get married
in the Christian church,
and he was getting pressure
from the other side,
and so one day,
he vanished into thin air.
I don't mean he left me.
I don't mean he abandoned me.
I don't mean he left me
for another woman.
I mean he evaporated
into thin air.
He wasn't the kind of person
to just run off like that.
His things were still
at my place,
and, you know,
it was just weird.
I did what any American girl
would do
if her fianc vanished
into thin air:
I looked for him.
I went to L.A.,
and I worked three jobs
trying to save up enough money
to pay a private investigator
to find out
what happened to him.
The private investigator
found him in England.
The Mormons had him.
All young men in the Church,
from the time
that we're young boys,
we're indoctrinated
to prepare to go on mission.
We sing songs like I Hope
They Call Me On A Mission.
# I hope they call me
on a mission #
You leave as a boy.
You come back as a man.
For Kirk, when he reaches
the age of 19,
he doesn't get whisked away
from Joyce.
He's just fulfilling
his religious spiritual
responsibilities.
Joyce knew where he'd gone
and set up this plan
with her strange,
unexplained friend Keith May
to come over to the U.K.
I had a really good friend
from Torrance, California.
He was an architect,
and his name
was Keith Joseph May.
Everybody called him "K.J."
K.J. Was like my big brother,
and he said to me,
"I don't want you going over
there to England by yourself."
Said, "You don't know what
they're gonna do to ya."
All I knew
is this powerful group
had done something
to the man I loved.
We got two bodyguards
to go with us.
One was a big guy that was...
what do you call...
a body-builder guy.
And the other was a pilot.
I was interested in something
a little bit more exciting
than what I was doing.
I saw an ad in the newspaper.
They wanted a pilot to fly
short trips in England,
and it sounded kind
of interesting to me.
So I called the phone number,
and a gentleman answered,
and an appointment was made
for the following week.
I was expecting to go
to an office
or something like that,
but it turned out to be
an apartment building.
I was taken in by a gentleman
by the name of Keith.
And after I was there
for a few minutes,
why, Joyce came out.
Tell me about
that first meeting.
Well, I was
favorably impressed.
She had a totally
see-through blouse on.
I can even remember the color.
It was a light brown,
totally see-through blouse.
No bra?
- No bra,
see-through blouse.
She was very, very easy
to talk to.
At one point, she came over
and sat down next to me.
I was trying to perceive
what type of relationship
existed between Keith and her
at that point.
Perhaps maybe down the line,
I might want to ask this girl
out for dinner or something.
Joyce had a trunk
that she brought out,
and in it were folders,
pictures, tablets,
letters from a private
investigator in England.
She then unraveled a story to me
that was just unreal.
Joyce had hired bodyguards,
she told me, from Gold's Gym.
She was gonna put 'em up
while they were there
in England,
and they were going to liberate
her fianc from this cult group.
In the back of my mind,
I was trying to figure out how
she could have all this money
to take all these people
to England.
She told me she was a model.
I didn't realize models
made that kind of money.
We actually hired some guys
to go with us from Los Angeles
in case we were attacked
or anything.
I didn't know
what was gonna happen.
I didn't know what
I was gonna be walking into.
I didn't know if they would
release him willingly or what.
I didn't know if they would
do something to hurt me.
I didn't know.
Joyce called me
and wanted to know
if I would fly her someplace in
an airplane locally for dinner.
That sounded pretty good.
I thought it might possibly be
an overnight trip or something,
and I was more than up for that.
But when Joyce showed up,
much to my surprise,
Keith was with her.
I felt this was a time
that I could try to make
a determination
on how real she was
and her financial ability.
So I did rent the most expensive
airplane that was possible,
single-engine,
a Beechcraft A36 Bonanza.
When you rent an airplane
like that,
you have to give 'em
a credit card,
and they lock in the approximate
amount it was gonna be.
Joyce didn't have a credit card.
But she did bring out
an envelope
filled with
hundred-dollar bills.
That brought me
a little bit closer to realizing
maybe she has the money to do
what she wants to do.
So we flew down to San Diego.
We had dinner,
and we flew back.
Didn't stay the night.
No.
No.
Keith was with her, and so...
that was three people there.
That's not for me.
I take it that you
were attracted to Joyce.
Yes.
She was in her late 20s,
had an outstanding figure,
had a Southern accent,
long blonde hair.
Any heterosexual male
would be attracted to Joyce.
Prior to our departure from
the United States to England,
they wanted me
to meet the bodyguard.
His name was Gil.
Gil would come to their place.
I would come to their place,
then we would go down
to the beach.
Then they told me the beach they
were going to was a nude beach.
Well, I've never been
to a nude beach,
so that really slowed me down
a little bit.
Joyce spread out a blanket
and proceeded to take off
all her clothes.
Totally.
Very quickly,
three to four guys showed up
around the blanket
and started taking pictures.
I don't know
where they came from.
Joyce protested,
tried to stop them.
She claimed
that she was a model,
and she didn't want photographs
taken of her.
After about 15 minutes,
Joyce put on her clothes,
and we left the beach.
And so we met at Los Angeles
International Airport.
Keith May was there,
Joyce McKinney,
Gil Parker, and myself.
First off, Gil Parker
had a problem
when he went through customs.
They asked him
what his occupation was,
and he told 'em
he was a bodyguard.
And they said, "For who?"
And they said,
"For Joyce and Keith."
Well, that put up a red flag,
evidently, in customs,
and they pulled him out.
Well, that scared Gil
right there.
Then, on the second day, we were
in a motel room together,
and Joyce had a lot of baggage.
I'd never seen anybody travel
with so many bags.
And they took out
wireless microphone
and listening devices.
Surprised me.
I wasn't sure what they
were going to use it for.
It was something you
could probably
just have carried
through customs,
but they had it inside
of a portable radio.
Well, when Gil seen this,
that about did it for him.
That was when
he called me outside
and said he wanted to go back
the next day.
The private investigator
had told Joyce
two or three different places
where Kirk was at,
and Keith was gonna go
into some of these places
where this cult group
was supposed to be,
ask questions,
and it would be transmitted out
to Joyce in the car...
wirelessly.
Keith May and I, we wanted to
go out a little bit on our own,
but Joyce was keeping us
so busy, we couldn't,
so one day, she...
Keeping you so busy?
Yeah, driving places,
checking out places,
walking places.
She had this wig,
this wig she called "Matilda."
And she'd wear this strange wig
when we'd go out driving
sometime and sunglasses.
And any time we'd go down near
one of these churches
where they were trying
to find out
if Kirk was gonna be
at that church
or if that was one
he frequented,
she'd have that wig on.
We were across,
in front of a building.
Outcome two young men
dressed in suits,
a tie, and a white shirt.
And she told me,
"There is Kirk."
Well, I was totally surprised.
This was nobody
being held captive.
And that's when Joyce
kind of leveled with me.
She showed me a bottle
of chloroform,
and I'd already seen
this phony gun they had.
I was going to be no part
of any of this,
and I told her that.
So she arrives
with Keith May, lurks around,
waits around outside
the temple of whatever it was,
Latter-Day Saints
of something or other,
waited for this huge,
shuffling figure to come out
with his short Mormon haircut
and pointed a gun at him
and said, "Get into the car."
In the final analysis,
the one way they were able
to make contact with Kirk...
Keith called him and told him
he wanted to convert
to the Mormon religion,
and they thought they had
a new convert.
Now, I'm not sure
this is the exact scenario,
but at that point,
Keith used the gun
to get him out to the car.
So you drive up
in your rental car with K. J.
I waited, and K.J. Went in,
because they're not supposed to
be in the room alone with girls.
So K.J. Went in and said,
"Joyce is in the car."
And Kirk turned around,
and he threw the keys
to his companion and said,
"I've got to go out
in the car and get something.
I'll be right back."
So he goes out with K.J.?
Yeah, and didn't come back,
and his poor old dumb companion
is sitting there
staring like
he's catching flies,
looking out the window,
waiting for him to come back.
He got in the car, and he goes,
"How long have you been
in England?"
Like a robot.
He was almost speaking
in a monotone voice,
and he'd go, "They said
you didn't love me anymore."
It was like he had
a personality alteration,
Kirk Number 1
and Kirk Number 2.
Kirk Number 1 was the man
I fell in love with.
Kirk Number 2 was Cult Kirk.
According to all the reports
at the time,
he was driven 250 miles
to a cottage in Devon.
She had a suitcase full
of all the equipment required,
including, I gather,
some Los Angeles
Police Department
Smith & Wesson handcuffs.
And he was taken in
and chained to...
Joyce claims it was ropes,
not chains,
but chains sounds better.
Anyway, he was allegedly
chained to a bed,
first by his ankle
so that he could actually
reach the toilet.
The chain was long enough
for him to get to the toilet.
Subsequently, with the help
of Keith May,
was spread-eagled...
spread-eagled...
which is this wonderful
bondage word...
was spread-eagled to the bed,
and Keith May discreetly left
the room at this point, I think,
closed the door behind him,
and Joyce had sex with him.
And she said to him
she was going to go on
having sex with him
until she found
she had missed a period
and would then hopefully
be pregnant by him.
She wanted to be inseminated?
Yes, I think that's
the polite word for it.
Kirk and I went to
this cottage down in England.
Well, I think they called it
the Devon area down there.
Real Franco Zeffirelli.
You know, like Brother Sun,
Sister Moon type shots.
If you saw that film,
that's what it looked like.
Clare!
You shouldn't have come,
but I knew you would.
I knew.
I have to tell you,
and I don't care
if the whole world knows it.
From now on, I'm not asking
to be loved.
I want to love!
Okay, if you can get
that vision
set in your head,
Mr. Filmmaker.
How'd you find this place?
Well, I was looking
for someplace peaceful
where he could normalize,
someplace where he could
come back to Kirk Number 1.
I had a big fireplace,
patchwork quilt, silk sheets...
blue to match his eyes,
with his initials on it...
cinnamon oil back rub,
'cause he loved my back rubs,
and all his favorite foods
in the fridge.
What were his favorite foods
in the fridge?
- Oh, I had chocolate cake
and Southern-fried chicken.
He loved my chicken.
Mashed potatoes.
I made everything
that he wanted.
I was like his little,
you know, wifey almost.
We were slow-dancing.
He got turned on
as we were dancing.
I'll be blunt.
He had an erection, okay?
And we sat down on the bed,
and he said,
"Can you give me a back rub?"
And I got the cinnamon oil,
which I had warmed,
and I was giving him a back rub.
And he had these
ugly garments on, and I said,
"How am I supposed
to give you a back rub
with this Mormon thing on?"
And I ripped
the ugly things off,
because they smelled, you know,
and they had those
occultic symbols,
and I didn't want
anything ugly there
in our beautiful moment.
You know, it was like
a honeymoon cottage.
And we burned 'em.
We actually burned 'em.
You ripped off
his magic underwear
and burned it?
And I threw 'em
in the fireplace
where they belonged!
Where they should put 'em all,
as far as I'm concerned.
There's folk stories galore,
legends of the temple garment
protecting people from harm.
The hooks, the psychic hooks
of the temple
are so... pried in so deep
that even people
who don't go to church anymore
still wear them,
because in the back
of their mind, like...
"What if I don't wear them,
and then Satan's got me?"
Kirk was impotent.
He was sexually impotent
because of this brainwashing.
He's not supposed
to have sexual feelings.
He's not supposed
to have emotional feelings.
He's not supposed
to fall in love.
And we were in love.
He loved me, and I loved him.
I knew there was only one way
to get Kirk out of Mormonism,
and that was to make love
with him,
because for a Mormon missionary
to have a love affair
is totally taboo.
They can't be in a room
alone with a girl
without their companion
with them to even shake hands.
So if it took giving up
my virginity
in a romantic moonlit cottage,
so be it.
I just wanted him
out of that cult.
We started to make love,
and all of a sudden,
he jumps up on the bed
like this, and he goes,
"By the law of the holy prophet
Joseph Smith,
"I cannot not touch my bodies
or the bodies of others
"in an unnatural,
experimental way!
By the law
of the holy prophet..."
Hold a Book of Mormon
firmly in hand.
Sing a Mormon song.
Sing a Mormon song.
Because he's turned on,
and he's not supposed to be.
And I go, "Ha."
I'd come across
an ocean to find him,
and the Mormons
are in our bedroom?
That moment, when his garments
are coming off,
that could have been
a moment that triggered him,
like, "Oh, my gosh."
"Oh, my heck,"
as they say in Utah.
"I'm doing something wrong."
I went back in the kitchen,
and I got myself
a real cold glass of water.
Does he still have
the erection
while he's chanting?
Well, I came back...
to be continued...
I came back in there,
and I'm thinking,
"Am I doing something wrong?"
He started to cry.
He had ejaculated, I guess.
He said, "Please don't tell 'em
about the filthy place,
what happened
at the filthy place."
And I said,
"Honey, what's wrong?"
He goes, "They'll know."
I mean, every guy on the planet
masturbates and has wet dreams.
And I ask him, I said, "Honey,
don't you have those dreams
guys have
or whatever they're called?"
He goes, "Yeah, but I didn't
tell 'em in the interview."
I go, "What interview?
They talk to you
about this stuff?"
He goes, "Yeah, once a week.
"They take us in rooms
by ourselves,
and they say, 'M1, M2, M3?
M1, M2, M3?"'
I go, "What's that?"
"Masturbation once,
masturbation twice,
"masturbation three times.
"So many times, you're out.
"You're Xed.
You're home.
"You're off your mission.
You can't get married
in the temple."
I go, "Kirk, these people
are controlling your sex drive.
"They're controlling your mind.
They're controlling your food.
You can't have coffee,
tea, or Pepsi-Cola."
There was
a Christian marriage manual,
which I bought, which
explained sex to young virgins.
There was a section in there
on sexual impotence.
Im-po-tence.
L- M-P-O-T-E-N-C-E.
And it said sometimes if a guy
was very repressed sexually,
which poor Kirk was,
Lord knows,
that you could
tie the person up,
and they could say,
"Ah, I'll let go."
You know, "I can finally let go
and make love."
And so I went, and I read
that section really quick,
speed-read it.
And I come back and I said,
"Honey, we're going to try
some of these exercises."
And so we did.
We made love, actually,
for three days.
We sort of, like,
didn't get out of bed.
It was the honeymoon,
was what it was for me.
I wanted us
to have a good sex life.
I wanted to be a good wife
to Kirk,
and I wanted to give him
lots of babies in my tummy.
I didn't look at sex
as a bad thing with him.
I looked at it as
a melting of two souls,
because when he kissed me,
it was like we melted
into one person.
It was like I didn't know
where I stopped and he began.
We were lying there,
holding hands,
and his little missionary
glasses were kind of askew.
And he goes, "Guess
we're married in God's eyes."
I go, "Yup, we are."
He says, "Guess we better
make it official."
He said, "Let's go into London,
and let's get married."
We took the rental car,
and we went into town,
to London,
and we saw Trafalgar Square.
They had, like, pigeons.
We fed the pigeons.
And so I said, "Oh, Kirk.
"We've got this cool cafe
we want to take you to.
It's called the Hard Rock Cafe."
And there were cops
running around everywhere.
What do they call 'em,
bobbies or whatever?
British cops.
If Kirk felt kidnapped
at any time, he could have said,
"Hey, this little pint-sized
girl here has me kidnapped.
Can you please help me,
'occifer'?"
But he didn't.
Kirk says, "Well, I'm gonna go
over across the street
and get a newspaper."
So he went over, by himself,
got a newspaper,
came back to the table,
slammed that newspaper down
on the table.
He's white as a ghost.
And we said, "What's wrong?"
It was so shocking.
It sounded like Scotland Yard
was after us or something.
And I'm sitting there
with my "kidnap victim"
eating a burger
with a hundred people
in a crowded tourist restaurant.
Kirk says,
"Well, maybe if I call 'em
and let them know
I'm alive and okay."
He says, "Oh, they're
gonna ask me about sex.
"Oh, they're gonna ask me
about sex.
What am I gonna say?
They're gonna ask me about sex."
I says,
"Can't you just tell them?"
"Oh, no, I can't!
Can't tell 'em we had sex!
Oh, they'll excommunicate me.
Oh, my mother will be so mad."
We called his mother.
We called my dad.
We called from the phone booth
at Trafalgar Square.
Kirk said to my dad,
"Mr. McKinney,
I love your daughter,
and I'm gonna marry her."
And my dad said,
"Welcome to the family, son."
When we called his mother,
I could hear her screeching
across the Atlantic.
"Oh, you've ruined
your eternal progression!
"Don't you know
what you've done?
"How could you get involved
with that girl?
You've not had sex with her,
have you?"
The mission president was,
"Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Oh, you've been kidnapped,"
and da, da, da.
And Kirk could hardly
get a word in edgewise.
He'd say, "But I'm really okay,
President Eyre."
"When the news media...
Kirk hung up, and he goes,
"You know, they've got
Scotland Yard and the FBI.
"How about if I just go back in,
and you guys stay here,
"so they can't do nothing like
arrest you guys or anything,
and I go back in
and show 'em I'm okay."
And I'll never forget that day.
It was a real Kodak moment.
Victoria Station in those days
had a beautiful
old-fashioned train
that pulled out
with one of those...
And the last thing I remember
of Kirk Number 1 is,
he got on the train,
and he mouthed the words,
"I love you."
And I go,
"I love you too, baby."
If Kirk went away
with Joyce willingly...
and had sex with her...
the guilt that would come over
him so strongly after the fact
could be overwhelming.
K.J. And I turned
and walked away,
and he goes, "Don't worry.
"He'll be okay.
He loves you.
You got the man you love.
What you worried about?"
I says, "I don't know, K.J.
Some nagging feeling.
I'm worried."
So we went back to the cottage,
and we packed everything up.
I remember
I had my wedding dress,
a pretty white dress
I was gonna use for our wedding.
Put flowers in my hair.
Also, our wedding bands
with our names engraved inside.
It said, "Joyce and Kirk.
He lift thee, and thee lift me,
and we will ascend together."
Even after we grew old
and died,
we would rise into the heavens
together as man and wife.
This bizarre story
began here last Wednesday.
Kirk Anderson,
a young Mormon missionary
was talking outside to a man
with a Canadian accent.
He then disappeared.
But early today,
he phoned police
and told them he was kidnapped.
A blanket had been placed
over his head.
He'd been driven to a house
where he'd been blindfolded
and his legs shackled.
When I got back
to my apartment in Long Beach,
the landlady called me in
and said the Long Beach Homicide
Department had been there,
and they wanted me to come down
to the police station.
And that really freaked me out.
Why the Homicide Department,
I don't know.
I told them everything.
Then we went down,
had a cup of coffee.
Then they asked me to come back
and tell 'em again,
the same story.
They had tape recorded
the first time I said it,
and they wanted to make sure
that when I told it
a second time,
it was exactly the same story,
which it was.
I told 'em the truth.
They got kind of a big kick
out of it,
considering
they hadn't found him yet,
about the whole story.
The Manacled Mormon.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
That's what it boiled down to.
I was a Mormon missionary
in Exeter, okay?
This is in Devon.
And I was at
a church member's house,
and they were a younger couple.
And they sort of sat down
and told us the whole story
of Joyce McKinney
and the Manacled Mormon.
It reminds me
of those cultures
that have stories
of the vagina dentata,
the women
with the toothed vagina.
They become cautionary tales
about sexual impropriety,
the dangerous powers of women,
women that can seduce
a young missionary
who are on God's errand.
Young men, once they receive
what's called
the Melchizedek priesthood,
they are endowed with power
from on high.
They go through... we go through...
I went through
an elaborate "endowment"
through the Mormon Temples
where we received
sacred underwear
and sacred knowledge
of keys to heaven.
You reenact
the Garden of Eden scenario,
and there's an actor
that performs Lucifer.
And he says in a menacing tone,
"Those of you
who don't live up
"to the covenants that you make
"on the altar of the temple
this day
will be in my power."
And one of the covenants that
you make is the law of chastity,
that you will only have
sexual relationships
with he or she to whom you are
legally and lawfully wedded.
"Manacled Mormon Sex Slave"
wrecks that, doesn't it?
Completely wrecks that.
If Kirk Anderson was
a willing Manacled Mormon,
he will have violated
his temple covenants,
violated the law of chastity.
What he risks is excommunication
from the church,
and greater than that,
unless he repents,
he won't be able to, ultimately,
become a god
and have his own planet.
That is Mormon theology.
That's what
they're working towards.
I got this weird phone call.
I had an answering service.
It said,
"It's been really crazy here,
"but I finally got 'em
off my back.
"I still love you.
"Call me.
Urgent.
Epsom 25724.
Urgent."
So I called the number,
and some Mormon answered.
"Who is this?
What do ya want?"
Very suspicious voice.
And I said,
"I want to talk to Kirk...
I mean Elder Anderson."
So I said, "This is
Sister... Helmsley calling
regarding the baptism
for my daughter Millie."
Millie was my sheepdog,
and I knew Kirk would know that.
And I said, "Honey,
where do you want to meet?"
He says, "About 2:00."
I said, "Don't say where it is
over the phone."
He goes, "Okay."
I was worried about
an extension phone.
It went further than that.
It was a phone tap.
On my way to meet him,
I remember me and K.J.
Were going along the motorway,
and I'm singing, "I'm getting
married in the morning!"
And I'm so happy.
I'm so...
I was just like a young bride
on her honeymoon.
I was just so full
of so much love for him.
These cop cars
ran us off the road.
They just literally edged us
off the road.
And then when they threw us up
against the police car and said,
"You're under arrest
for false imprisonment
and carrying away
Kirk Anderson,"
I couldn't believe it.
It was just, like, shock.
The law was required
to take seriously an act
involving a woman with a gun,
pointing it at a priest.
Forcing him... although
this was a sort of fantasy...
forcing him into a car
and spread-eagling him to a bed
and having sex with him.
I mean, there are
so many crimes, possible crimes,
involved in all of that,
and yet someone...
everyone suspected
there wasn't really
a crime here at all.
Scenario number one
is Kirk's story:
Fake gun, chloroform, kidnapped,
tied up, forced to have sex.
The second version
is Joyce's story.
They were gonna be married.
They were gonna have children.
He needed to escape
from the Mormon Church.
She goes to rescue him.
They rush away
and have this magical,
wonderful night...
weekend together.
And then they get him.
They brainwash him,
and all of a sudden,
he's claiming rape.
The third scenario
is something in between.
There was a consensual aspect
to his getaway with her.
But then somewhere
along the line,
he had second thoughts.
And he wanted it to stop,
and it didn't.
Do you think a woman
can rape a man?
No, I think
that's like putting
a marshmallow
in a parking meter.
I don't... a guy either wants
to have sex, or he doesn't.
He has an erection,
or he doesn't.
She spent about three months
in Holloway Prison,
the famous women's prison
in London.
There was
a little sliding door
that they would slide open with
just a little slit of light.
And they would slide it open
maybe once a day and say,
"Are you ready to sign
a confession?"
I kept screaming,
"Please get Kirk!
Please get Kirk!"
I beat my fists bloody
on this cold, steel prison door
screaming,
"Please, somebody get Kirk!"
There was a picture of her
in all the papers
looking out of the back
of a police van.
She had scrawled
on a piece of paper,
which she was holding up
to press,
"Kirk was cooperative
all along."
When I went
to the prison library,
I got a Bible,
and in the back of the Bible,
there was two white pages
of blank paper,
almost like God put it there.
I wrote two letters on those
two blank pages out of my Bible:
One to my parents,
and one to the press.
I put them up inside...
I hate to sound gross,
but I put one in my vagina
and one in my rectum.
I got out in the prison van,
in the Black Mama,
and I pushed 'em out.
I grunted them out, and I popped
them out the window.
And this man saw them, and I go,
"Pick it up.
Pick it up."
And he goes like...
"Pick it up.
Mail it.
Mail it."
You know, I was trying
to motion to him,
'cause I knew he couldn't
hear me inside the prison van,
to mail it at the post office.
And he goes...
"Please, please,
please mail it."
And so he mailed it,
and of course, the next time
I go back for my bail hearing,
the whole planet was there.
I asked my lawyer.
I said, "Look, if you
can't talk, would you let me?
"'Cause I can sure talk.
Let me tell people
what happened."
So I got up there,
and I had 'em laughing.
I had 'em crying.
I had 'em throwing spitballs
at the Mormons, you know?
Thank God for all those years
of drama school.
Thank you!
Everyone was just mesmerized
by her performance.
I mean, there was no sense
of fear or shame or anything.
She just took on the court
with great confidence,
and she said,
"I loved him so much,
"I would have skied down
Mount Everest nude
with a carnation up my nose
for the love of that man."
There was standing room only.
There were little old ladies
with their shopping carts
ogling for places to stand!
The banners outside...
"Free Joyce! Free Joyce!"
These judges with their white
wigs sitting there, you know,
unable to comprehend
any of this.
And there was nothing
in the statute books
which would deal with it.
They're so prim and proper,
you know.
They wear these little
powdered wigs,
which look like
dumb little hats,
and they sit up and down
and wiggle on their heads.
One of the questions
they ask him was,
"Did you ask for a back rub?"
And he said, "Yes."
And they said,
"Was it cinnamon oil
that she rubbed on your back?"
And he goes, "Yes,"
like he had remembered,
"Well, that was nice."
They ask him, "Were you willing
or unwilling?"
And he did that like really fast
and looked at the head Mormon
right on the front row.
He jerked his head
really fast like,
"What am I supposed to say?"
And the head Mormon went like,
"You say what we told you
to say," like that.
And he goes, "I was unwilling!
I was unwilling."
"Were you unwilling
all seven times?"
"Well, I wasn't as unwilling
the third time
as I was the first."
I wanted him to be strong
and say, "Yes, I love her,
"and I'm gonna tell
the truth right now,
and let's get rid of this."
But he was so scared.
You know, you can tell a lie
long enough till you believe it.
For 55 minutes, Ms. McKinney
poured out her statement
to an occasionally
confused magistrate.
At one point, he stopped her
and said, "I'm lost."
And Ms. McKinney, speaking
in a North Carolina drawl,
put the whole case in this way:
Referring to the young Mormon,
Kirk Anderson, she said,
"He put me in prison
to save himself
from excommunication
and family disgrace."
This was a phony kidnap
according to Ms. McKinney.
Referring to the episode down
in the Devon cottage, she said,
"We had three days of fun,
food, and sex."
By this time,
the British Isles was on fire
with the Joyce McKinney story.
That was all
that was being talked about
in the pubs and taverns
and restaurants.
"Where were you when you read
the Joyce McKinney story?"
You know.
I mean, it had kinky sex.
It had religion.
It had a beauty queen,
kidnap at gunpoint,
chains, being spread-eagled.
It had Mormon missionaries.
And there was something
in that story for everyone.
It was a perfect tabloid story.
I mean,
I could never understand
the public's fascination
with my love life.
I'm not a movie star.
I'm just a person,
a human being,
that was caught in
an extraordinary circumstance.
The Daily Express
and the Mirror were locked
in almost deadly combat
over the Joyce McKinney story.
And then it all
kind of went away
until she was released on bail.
And then there was a kind
of burst of stuff again.
I was let out on bail
to await the upcoming trial
to clear my name.
Somebody sent a limousine
to pick me up at the prison,
and here I exit the prison,
and I mean,
I've got lice powder in my hair.
I'm supposed to be
this ex-beauty queen,
and all the cameras are there,
and, you know, I look like...
That was my first taste
of the press.
And when I got back
to the bed-and-breakfast,
I started to very quietly
get out of the limousine.
I'm thinking, "I wonder
who sent this car, you know,
at the prison to pick me up?"
And I was going to go in
and hug my mom and dad and say,
"I'm home!"
All of a sudden,
the sky lit up with flashbulbs.
Suddenly night became day.
I was suddenly a celebrity.
I didn't ask to be a celebrity.
I didn't want to be a celebrity.
But it was like a wave.
It was like a "phenomen-imum."
So what have these last
few months been like for you?
Well, I've been very busy.
It's been amazing,
the way the public
has responded to my case.
I got close to 1,000 letters
from the British public.
The rest of the time
that I'm not answering letters
or something of this nature,
I'm working on my book.
What kind of a book is that?
Well, this is my life story,
and it's the story
of how I met Kirk,
and the name of it is
A Very Special Love Story.
I had said something like
I loved Kirk so much,
I'd have skied naked
down Mount Everest
with a carnation in my nose.
When I went into
the bed-and-breakfast,
there were pink carnations
all over the room!
There were pink carnations
in the closet, in the sink,
on the floor, on the bed.
Sacks of mail
from all over the world.
People wanted me to autograph
their baby's bellies,
their elbows,
their cigarette packs!
I got marriage proposals.
I got maps with directions
to guys' houses saying,
"Please come and kidnap
and rape me anytime, honey!"
It kind of got a life
of its own.
I remember, I was at a party.
It was an after-party
for Saturday Night Fever,
and Johnny Travolta was there.
And the Bee Gees came over
and asked me to dance,
and, you know...
Keith Moon... he was the drummer
for The Who... spied me,
and he told
one of the reporters,
"I want to meet the girl."
He was with his girlfriend.
I mean, there was nothing
between me and Keith,
but he came over,
and he says,
"Joycie girl, I'm gonna give you
a big old smooch."
And he just kissed me!
And that was
just getting started.
Peter McKay, my editor,
said to me,
"Why don't you hire
a Rolls-Royce
"and take Joyce to the premiere
of The Stud
and upstage
the show business element?"
Was there a chance that you
could actually do this?
Could you upstage Joan Collins
with Joyce McKinney?
Well, we did.
She stepped out
of this Rolls-Royce,
and all the press went mad.
I mean, it was as if...
I don't know...
Marilyn Monroe got out
or the queen.
I mean,
certainly more excitement
than when Joan Collins
got out of her limousine.
She returned home at midnight
like Cinderella.
Presumably, Keith May
had been packing their bags,
because they disappeared
a day later.
The police had opposed bail,
believing that the couple
would leave the country
if it were granted.
Since their disappearance
was discovered on Thursday,
the police have kept a watch
on all air and seaports,
but they were last seen by
neighbors on Wednesday evening.
I never fled.
Don't use the word "fled."
I resent the word "fled."
I left.
- They went to the airport
as deaf-mutes, I gather.
Quite clever, really.
I went, and I got the birth
certificates of two dead people.
I didn't figure they'd mind.
And I got me a travel visa.
I put on a granny wig,
and I made me a fat suit.
You know what a fat suit is,
like in Norbit.
I said,
"Keith, we're going home."
So I dye his hair coal black,
and I made him
a little handlebar moustache
and darkened his skin,
like Pedro Gonzalez.
And I found out there was
a troop of deaf actors
going to the States via Canada.
Well, let me tell ya,
I put some little signs on us,
and it said,
"I am deaf, but I can lip-read.
Please enunciate your words
slowly and speak clearly."
I remember the stewardess said,
"Get these dummies
on the plane!"
The other one said,
"Shh, They'll hear you!"
And she goes, "No, they won't!
They're stone deaf!"
We got to Canada,
and it's at night,
and they stop us in immigration.
I had 13 suitcases
full of news clips.
In those suitcases are
hundreds of pictures of me,
magazine covers
and all this stuff.
They're gonna look at me
and say, "Oh, oh, oh, oh!"
They go, "13 suitcases?
You immigrating?"
And I go...
And she goes, "Oh, you're deaf!
Okay!
We cannot get our interpreter
at night!"
And she's talking louder
and louder.
She gives me a pencil,
"I tired.
May I go now, please?"
Lady goes, "Eh, go on."
Ten days later,
I was in my office
in the Daily Express building.
The telephone rang
one evening about 6:00.
And I picked it up,
and it was Joyce.
She said that she wanted to sell
her story to the Daily Express
for 40,000.
We arranged there and then
for me to fly out to Atlanta
and wait in the Atlanta airport
Hilton hotel.
I went to the door,
and there outside
were these two Indians...
like Indians from Calcutta.
They should have been arrested
for bad acting
far more than abducting
Mormon priests.
She was having, really,
the time of her life.
There was no sense of anxiety.
She was just enjoying it.
And giving us all
this nonsense,
which was a totally sanitized
version of the truth.
And we were falling for it,
of course,
getting it all onto these little
tape recorders, and thinking,
"God, hasn't the Express
got a great story here!"
Joyce brought in this suitcase,
took about three of us
to get it in the room.
I daresay she just put
her finger on the button.
The thing exploded.
And these disguises
and wigs and...
not bondage gear,
I hasten to add.
At least, I didn't see any.
I expected the FBI
to come crashing in through
the windows at any minute,
'cause as far as I knew, I mean,
we were aiding
and abetting fugitives.
It wasn't clear, really,
what Keith May's motive was
except that he adored Joyce.
And Joyce kind of did,
from time to time,
treat him as if he was
in some kind
of mistress-slave fantasy.
Like, "Down, slave,"
she would say to him.
"Down, slave!
Down, slave!"
But she would say it
humorously, joking.
But it did occur to us
at the time
that this is all the language
of the world of bondage.
I speak as if I'm an expert,
but I mean...
I assume that you are.
But it's all this kind of
master-mistress power thing,
domination thing that seems
to run through this whole story.
It seems to be a theme.
Keith had probably
an obsession for Joyce
just like Joyce had
an obsession for Kirk.
The fact that he was just able
to be around her
and helping her
where he could
satisfied his emotions.
There are tabloids in England
that are filth.
At the top of the list
would be the Daily Mirror.
The Daily Mirror had...
meantime...
had their reporters
in Los Angeles
digging up all this stuff
about her activities as a...
I don't know...
not a call girl, but as a...
well, I suppose she was.
I mean, she was being paid
for sexual services.
But this was all long before
her escapades in the U.K.
This was earlier
Joyce McKinney history.
They had a tip.
I think it was from
a police officer in London
to one of our London reporters
that was covering the story,
who said that it might be worth
looking up an address
that we know
she had in Los Angeles
and a boyfriend called
Steve Moskowitz.
Joyce had been in touch with him
from England saying,
"Destroy any pictures.
If any journalists turn up,
do not talk to anybody."
Steve was very uncooperative
when I first met him.
Once he told me that he was
still madly in love with her,
I said, "Look, Steve,
if you want to be at her side
"for the trial
at the Old Bailey,
"we will pay
a first-class air ticket for you
and put you up in a hotel in
London so you can be with her."
The next morning,
I'm in the hotel
at Santa Monica.
the phone goes.
Steve.
"I'm downstairs."
He produced six strips
of black-and-white contacts.
There was nothing really
that bad on them.
She was sitting on a horse.
They were glamour pictures,
as such.
I said, "Well, look, Steve,
"this doesn't take us
very much further,
"but I will hang on to them.
We need more."
I said, "By the way,
the editor in London
wants me to take a picture
of you."
He said, "Can you make it look
as if I've not posed for it?"
I said, "What do you mean?"
He said, "Well,
I've got Joyce's car here,
"and I've got Millie.
"I often take the dog out,
put him in the car,
take the dog away for a walk."
He didn't want Joyce to know
he was cooperating.
So he's betraying her.
He knows he's betraying her.
I don't think he realized
how much he was giving us.
It was only when he said to me,
"She placed these ads
in the Hollywood Free Press,
in Freep. "
He took us to one
of their offices,
which had back numbers
of some of the ads
that she'd posted in there,
and it read:
"Gorgeous former Miss USA
contestant desires work.
"Beauty, brains and talent.
The best gal in the Freep.
"38-24-36.
"Slim, sweet, Southern blonde.
"How would you like her
to leisurely bathe you,
"lovingly blow dry/style
your hair,
"and then give you
a delicious nude massage
"on her fur-covered waterbed?
"Your fantasy is her specialty.
"S&M.
B&D.
"Escort service.
"Nude wrestling.
Modeling.
"Erotic phone calls.
"Dirty panties or pictures.
Mail your fantasy
or specialty to Joey."
I love this bit.
"P.S., Joey says,
'I love shy boys, dirty old men,
and sugar daddies."'
I couldn't believe
what I was seeing.
I could not believe
that that was Joyce
advertising those services.
But that was only the beginning,
because once we had
all of that,
we then had to start thinking,
"Who's got pictures
of all this?"
It was only when he named
that photographer.
He said, "I've never
photographed Joyce McKinney.
I have no idea who she is."
And I said, "Well,
according to a friend of mine
"and a friend of hers,
she always came on modeling
assignments with her dog."
"Ah."
He dug out some magazines.
Soon as I saw it,
I said, "That's her."
I took that away, and I thought,
"Job well done."
We were getting somewhere.
We went back
to Steve's apartment,
and he brought up a phone bill.
Every itemized phone call Joyce
had made from the apartment
in the last three, four months.
Right.
Away we went
with the phone bill.
Frank Power and I
spent three hours
hitting every one
of those numbers on there.
Nobody had heard
of Joyce McKinney.
No idea who she was.
The dog was the link.
Always the dog.
It was only when Steve told me
that she took
the dog with her
that the photographer
could put a face to an alias.
You learn, when you're famous,
who your friends are.
When the payrollees come out,
the checkbook journalists.
People that are real jealous
or maybe didn't like you
or need money, it's, "Yeah?
What do ya wanna know about her?
How much you pay me?"
I had a false friend,
and his name was Steve,
and he was a creep.
He had the key
to the outside of my apartment
so he could go in
and walk my dog.
He broke in a steamer trunk.
I had huge pictures of me in
there from a modeling portfolio.
He sold those to The Sun
and the Daily Mirror.
Both were in contests
to see who could do the worst
Joyce McKinney story.
When those Daily Mirror
reporters
showed up on his doorstep,
they turned him
and bragged about it.
They sent him and
his prostitute crony to Mexico
so that they
wouldn't be prosecuted
for breaking and entering
my apartment.
We were worried about Steve,
that somebody
was gonna get to him.
So we kept Steve out of the way
of all our opposition in Mexico
for about ten days until we
finished with the story.
He didn't realize that it was
to keep him out of the way.
I mean, he could've made
a lot of money
by telling his side
of the story.
All he got from us
was a promise
to be at the Old Bailey
when Joyce goes to trial.
We were coming up with more
material than you could believe,
unpublishable material,
bondage pictures,
her wrestling with Thai girls,
mud wrestling, nudes.
The service that were offered
were oral sex, massage, bondage.
Laura would have
the full intercourse
if they paid enough money.
Joyce would do the bondage
and anything else they needed,
including oral sex,
but that was it.
I said to him,
"Well, what happens
if this ever got
out of control?"
And he said,
"Oh, we had that fixed."
I won't try to get his accent.
He said,
"I bugged the dog's collar."
I said, "You did what?"
He said, "I put a bug
in the collar of the dog."
I said, "What, the dog went with
her on these sexual encounters?"
"Oh, yeah, always."
He said, "And if it got
out of hand,
"I'd be sitting outside
with a couple of other guys,
and we would go in."
So is he sitting in
a coffee shop with headphones?
He was sitting in the car.
Steve was very much in love
with Joyce.
We asked him if he'd ever
had sex with her, and he said,
"Shoot, man, nobody's ever
had sex with Joyce."
That was the quote from him.
Nobody?
"Nobody."
That was the quote.
When Mike Malloy,
who was the editor
of the Mirror at that time,
asked me how
we were getting on, I said,
"It's interesting, Mike.
You'll be pleased to see
what we've got."
"Do you have a picture of her
in a swimsuit?"
I said, "Oh, yes.
We've got that."
I mean, worms crawl
out of the woodwork
when you become famous,
worms, cockroaches!
Mike called me to say,
"I better let you know
that tomorrow we're gonna run,
for a week,
with 'The Real McKinney' story."
And that was the front page,
"The Real McKinney."
Their front page was
going to be Joyce, naked,
but lying on her stomach.
And ours was going to be
these pictures of her as a nun.
One paper projecting her
as an innocent,
sweet-natured woman,
a God-fearing, religious woman,
who was a victim
of cruel circumstances.
And the other, the Daily Mirror,
projected her
as a kind of manipulating,
sex-crazed, part-time hooker.
Somewhere in between, maybe,
is the truth.
- The Express came, and they
actually let me tape-record
what I said, and they
printed it word-for-word.
And that same week, the Mirror
came out with the story.
They had painted a totally
different picture of me.
If I was well-educated,
they made me stupid.
If I was a virgin in real life,
they made me a slut.
We did the fantasy
that Joyce wanted promoted
to the millions
of English readers.
Yeah, you became her tool,
her slave.
Oh, totally.
I became her slave, yes.
We were all her slaves.
The Daily Express
did buy the story,
and it was only Joyce's story,
what she wanted to say
about the kidnapping,
what she did or did not do
with Kirk.
She wasn't gonna tell a story
about her hooker assignments.
She can't say it never happened
because there it is
in black-and-white.
It was Joyce.
Well, her claim is, of course,
that those pictures
were doctored.
You don't doctor negatives.
We had the negative,
print, and the magazine.
Get out of that, Joyce.
The Sun put my head
on another person's naked body.
And she was flat-chested
as a board.
I mean, the girl was flat
in her front.
As you see, I'm not flat
in my front.
So it was clear that
this woman's breasts...
Were not me.
Those are fried eggs!
The Sun admitted
it was a fake picture.
They came out and said,
"This is a composite picture."
But the Daily Mirror didn't.
The Daily Mirror tried to make
it look like I was a whore.
On the only occasion
when I did meet her
a bit later, she said,
in her accent, you know,
"I don't pose nude."
Of course, sitting
on the editor's desk
was over 1,000 pictures
and magazines
and negatives of her
that we already had.
She never knew that, of course.
I never took a picture,
which is really unusual for me.
The only thing
I ever wanted to do
was photograph Joyce
with no clothes on.
And I ended up picking up
hundreds of other people
who did it.
Bit strange.
Do you still have
the photographs?
Unfortunately,
only the pictures
that were published
in the Mirror at the time.
The file, which was
between 800 and 1,000 pictures,
were all locked up in a safe.
But unfortunately,
the Mirror Group
changed ownership,
and along with
a lot of other things,
all that dossier went missing.
We were in the hotel room,
and Joyce was constantly calling
her friend
in North London saying,
"Have you seen the papers yet?
Have you seen the papers yet?"
She'd gotten the newspapers,
the early editions
of the newspapers,
and had them laid out
in front of her
and was on the telephone saying,
"And the Mirror says this,
and the Mirror says that.
"And there's a photograph
of you here with no clothes on.
"And there's another photograph
of you here standing on a man
in a bedroom."
And this is when Joyce
freaked out.
She was so appalled
and enraged and distressed
about all the stuff
that the Mirror had been
printing about her,
'cause she had no idea
this was gonna happen at all.
She just went crazy,
went absolutely crazy.
Brian realized that he had
to stop this conversation
and that she mustn't learn
any more,
'cause we didn't know
what she was going to do.
So he didn't even bother
to disconnect the telephone
in a civilized way.
He just grabbed the wires
and pulled them out of the wall.
He didn't unplug them;
He just pull...
and bits of plaster came out,
I remember, with it.
This is a very unusual kind
of behavior, no?
Wouldn't you just
hang the phone up?
Well, Joyce McKinney
had it in both hands
screwed into her ear.
I mean, she was really scary,
really scary.
She appeared to kind of fly
across the room,
as far as I remember it,
and clung on to the curtains,
which partly came away
on the rail.
She was completely hysterical.
Then she went for the balcony.
I dived after her and sort of
grabbed her by the ankles.
I didn't know whether
she was going to jump off,
'cause if she had done, I think
there were probably tourists
on deck chairs underneath.
She would've probably
taken them out too.
So it would have been very
embarrassing, to say the least.
I looked down, and I could see
all the reporters
milling around outside
trying to get their shot,
trying to get their shot.
You know, even as far up
as I was,
they were trying
to get their shot.
And I thought, "All I have to do
is just climb up on this rail
"and just splatter,
and I will be dead.
"I'll be in heaven.
There will be no more tabloid
reporters ever to ruin my life."
She went a bit up the wall.
She tried to climb up
and jump off the balcony.
"I want to meet my Maker!"
K.J. Came running in
the motel room, and he's just,
"Don't let 'em win!
"If you die,
the truth dies with you,
"and nobody will ever know
what really happened.
Nobody will know
how much you loved him."
She was screaming.
She was hysterical.
She was completely
out of control.
We got her to a hospital.
We were thinking in terms of
a pill of some kind,
but this nurse appeared
with a large syringe
and just stuck it in her.
And we wheeled her out
in this wheelchair
that was provided,
unconscious,
and got her back to the hotel.
Her father, this gentle man,
came in with his wife
and tried to put his arms
around Joyce.
And she just sunk her teeth
into his forearm.
And there was an awful kind
of tussle.
And he managed
to get himself free,
and there was blood
trickling down his arm.
He'd been attacked by a vampire.
Joyce then fled the whole lot
of us in her nightie.
And we kind of followed her
and chased her down.
And there was this freeway
that went past the back
of the hotel with huge trucks
and cars whizzing past
in both directions.
I remember seeing her
run across this freeway,
miraculously being missed
by all these vehicles
and kind of disappearing
somewhere into the distance.
I know.
Exactly.
Because would you believe
McKinney is back?
Joyce McKinney,
the "sex in chains" girl,
arrested.
She kept us all entertained
in 1977.
She used to phone me up
every day, two or three times,
for months, saying,
"Lawks, have mercy!
I'll kill myself... what
the Daily Mirror said about me."
And seven years later,
she'll still pursuing
this unfortunate Mormon.
Can you believe it?
Oh, dear.
You saw him in 1984?
Yeah.
Yeah, I was at the airport,
and his... overweight
Mormon wife saw me.
And I guess she was disturbed
I was using the public airport.
She went and called the police
and said,
"Oh, McKinney's here.
Go get her."
What was his job
at the airport?
- I hate to say this,
but he was a doo-doo dipper.
A doo-doo dipper?
Yeah.
What is a doo-doo dipper?
- That's someone
who takes the doo-doo
off the back of the plane.
They married him off
to this big, overweight woman,
and they told her to start
having kids as quick as possible
so that he would get over me.
That fact that I could have
given him children, I guess,
was bypassed.
I was kind of glad
she was not too good-looking.
I mean, If she had been
really great-looking,
I would have probably felt
really awful, you know?
Cried my eyes out,
but it wasn't any competition,
if you know what I mean.
The only thing she had
that I didn't have
was 100 extra pounds,
and she was a Mormon.
She was found lurking
outside his office.
I think she was arrested
for stalking him or something.
Do you still love him?
I'll die loving him.
I never got married
because of him.
I'm the incurable romantic,
you know?
The idea of marrying somebody
that I didn't love
and having to sleep with him
and have his kids
and live a humdrum, blas life
with half a love...
I would rather have
a short few weeks
with someone who was
the star in the crown
than to spend my life
with someone and be miserable.
Love is not a changing thing.
It doesn't... it's a steadfast
and eternal thing.
It's like an eternal flame.
It doesn't just stop because
of circumstances or situations.
It goes on, even past death.
It's a very bleak future
you paint for yourself.
What is gonna happen to you?
Well, first of all,
I want to write my book
and make sure
that the truth comes out,
because, regardless
of what you've heard,
I haven't sold my life story
to anyone, to any newspapers.
The only newspaper I have talked
to has been the Express,
who did the article about
my adventures in America,
and that's it.
And I want my story to be told.
Are you really prepared
to condemn yourself,
'cause that's what it is,
to a very solitary life?
Yes.
Today's date
is September 25, 1986.
September 25, 1986.
It is the interior
of the McKinneys' house,
the office.
This is the office
where the McKinney daughter
is currently working on a book.
Could you work
at this computer
with the Benfield coon dogs
barking outside your window?
My father is trying
to take a nap.
Outside, both Benfield hounds
are barking.
This shot is done
through the screen.
This shot made
on August 8, 1986,
shows absolutely nothing around.
This shot shows absolutely
nothing in the picture.
This shot made
on August 8, 1986,
shows absolutely nothing
in the picture.
This shot made
on August 8, 1986,
shows absolutely
no other animals
or anything in the picture
to agitate the barking
Benfield hound.
This is the same dog, of course,
that's been barking
in the other pictures.
I finally got
what's called agoraphobia.
It's when you can't
go out of the house.
We had a big old farmhouse
with a river on one side
and woods on the other.
And we thought that was, like,
a natural barrier to paparazzi.
But they would just
put on fisherman boots
and just wade
right through that river.
I remember one time a woman
came on our property,
ignored
the "no trespassing" signs,
and she was just gawking
in the window,
like, trying to get up
to see what Joyce McKinney
looked like.
It went on like that for years.
I could barely get out
to go feed the horses.
So finally, I got me
this big old guard dog.
His name was Tough Guy.
He was a huge dog.
He weighed about 150 pounds.
Solid muscle.
Pit bull mastiff bulldog.
Jaws like a alligator.
And I just put him right
out in the front yard like,
"Come on, boys.
Come on."
One day, he got bee-stung.
These two women
that worked at the pharmacy
who didn't like me
decided that it'd just be a hoot
to add a zero onto
that Prednisone prescription
for Joyce McKinney's guard dog.
Wouldn't that be funny?
Probably drive him nutty,
wouldn't it?
Well, it drove him
more than nutty.
The capillaries
in his brain exploded.
But not before he attacked me.
He didn't know who I was.
He amputated...
I can't raise this arm up.
But he amputated my left arm.
He tore off three fingers
on this hand.
He ripped my intestines out
of my stomach wall.
He shredded my knee
from my right kneecap
to my ankle.
I was bleeding to death.
I was dying.
A few months before this,
I had found a little dog
by the side of the road
going through garbage cans.
I named him Booger.
And Booger
was a little pit bull.
I hit the brakes,
and I backed up,
and I got out, and I said,
"Could you use a friend?
"I could use a friend too.
Okay, I'm a softie.
Get in the car."
So he went...
He had a little five-beat
musical bark, Booger did.
Booger, Booger, Booger.
I had taken him home with me,
not realizing that he was
gonna be famous someday
or that he would save my life
or change the lives... my life
and the lives of so many people.
The night that this big mastiff
attacked me, the guard dog,
I got next door
to where Booger was.
I said, "Help me, Booger,"
and Booger shot out,
and he jumped on that other dog
and pulled it off of me.
It was a fight to the death,
and I thought,
"Poor little Booger,
he's gonna give himself
in a Christlike love for me."
When I came home
from the hospital,
he sat on the bed beside me,
and we healed together,
and we formed a bond,
a friendship.
Booger was a very special dog.
Not only was he
a licensed service dog,
but one day he just got up
and unlocked the door,
and then he started
dialing 911 with his paw.
He had a big button phone.
And I'd say, "Booger, help!
Dial 911."
He'd go, whomp!
"Booger, I need a towel.
Go get me a towel
out of the dryer, buddy."
He'd go in there into the dryer
and get me a towel.
"Hey, Booger, get me a pop
out of the refrigerator."
And he'd go get me one,
and he'd so gently carry it
so he wouldn't burst it
with his teeth
and drop it in my lap.
He got me through
that tough time.
For ten years, he was my helper.
My beloved old friend Booger
passed away in my arms
of cancer in April of 2006.
I tried everything
in the world to save him.
I took him to every
veterinary hospital I could.
I said, "You can't die, buddy.
"You're all I have.
We're a package deal.
You can't die."
That was the last command
I gave him, "You can't die."
And he looked at me as if he
didn't want to disappoint me.
And those eyes,
with age-old wisdom,
those dark brown eyes
looked at me like, "Don't worry.
I'll see you again.
This is not the end for us."
I just wanted to go to heaven,
and I thought God
would just have Booger there
on a cloud for me or something.
And I'd had such a sad life,
you know,
with all the tabloid mess.
And I thought,
"I just want the hurt to stop.
And I can't do without him."
Then I heard about cloning.
You know, I thought, "Well,
I'll just give it a stab."
I contacted Dr. Byeong Chun Lee
and asked him
if it was possible.
I wrote him a letter in Korean,
translated it,
and then tracked down
his phone number.
And he goes,
"I can clone your dog."
I said, "Are you sure?
I mean, is it possible
I could have my old boy back?"
He goes, "I can."
Do you ever feel like God?
What their plan was
is to take a little piece
of tissue from Booger's tummy,
put it in liquid nitrogen
for its safe trip back
to Seoul, Korea.
They flew back with the help
of Homeland Security.
Homeland Security
guarding these little cells.
Guarding Booger.
Well, to me,
it was Spirit Booger.
That's what we called it.
It was like an orb of light
moved along the fuselage
of the plane.
And people were saying,
"What is that?"
But I knew.
I knew it was old Spirit Booger.
I closed my eyes, and I said
a silent prayer, and I said,
"Oh, Heavenly Father,
please take good care of him."
And it was like he spoke
to my heart, and said,
"Don't worry.
"He's with me, and he's fine.
"And you, you are going
to be fine too,
"because I've got Booger 1,
"but I'm sending you back
Booger 2
and a little something extra."
- I get this
long-distance phone call.
It's Dr. Hong.
"Miss Brenann, what is best news
I can bring to you?"
And I said, "We're pregnant?
We're pregnant!"
He said, "We are."
On August the 5th,
I flew to Seoul, Korea.
Well, I found out what
the little something extra was
that Heavenly Father
had promised me.
There were five.
Five?
Five cloned puppies,
all exactly like Booger,
five mini Boogers lying there
like little black jelly rolls
with half the world press
crowding around.
They just looked like
little tiny mini Boogers.
It was the strangest feeling.
The weirdest thing is,
I was sitting in a hotel
in Seoul, Korea,
and one of them got up
and opened the door,
and he was four months old.
And I just went...
I thought, "How'd he know that?
I didn't train them to do that."
You know, they have
those little refrigerators
with little wooden doors,
like a cabinet, in hotels.
And he just reached right up,
got that silver knob,
and jerked it open
with his teeth
just like old Booger used to do.
And then, when one of them
got the leash
and went over to the door
and dropped it like,
"Walk me, now,"
like Booger did,
it blew me away.
I said, "These are his clones."
It was $25,000,
if I can remember.
Well, the original price was,
I believe, $150,000.
Was it?
God.
She must like her dogs.
I don't know.
Some girl.
It was in all the papers.
"Dog cloning girl turns out
to be the Joyce McKinney,"
because she pretended
it wasn't her to start with.
She called herself
Brenann McKinney.
Something like Brenann,
was it?
Berman McKinney,
or something like that.
I forget what name she used.
I knew right away it was Joyce.
Why?
Well, I think there was
a photograph.
And she hadn't changed
that much.
I thought if I used
my middle name
that I would just be left alone
by the press,
because I don't see
any connection at all
between cloned puppies
and a 32-year-old
sex-in-chains story.
I'm sorry, but I don't see
the connection.
But you should have seen
the way Associated Press...
those people slandered me
so bad.
In fact, if there's an attorney
listening to this
that wants a good libel suit,
I've got one.
"I'll sue anybody," she said,
"who says I'm
that Joyce McKinney.
I'm not that Joyce McKinney."
But she had to admit
that she was.
I was afraid to have a love
affair of any kind after Kirk.
I was afraid to kiss a guy.
So I chose just
to be celibate and...
as Bridget Bardot once said,
"I gave my youth to men,
and my old age I give to dogs
that I trust."
Dogs and children love me.
They love Joyce McKinney,
because they sense in me
an innocence, you know?
They sense in me a gentleness.
And they don't read
tabloid papers.
They love me for me.
She's not an evil person.
I mean, she's just a bit crazy,
eccentric, self-obsessed,
and self-involved
and manipulative
and barking mad, probably,
basically, but...
"Barking mad."
Yeah.
I wish we had that expression
over here.
You can have it.
You can tell yourself
a million times,
"God knows the truth."
And it would be nice
if all you had to deal with
every day was God.
But you don't.
You have to deal with people.
I didn't plan on any of
the tabloids destroying my life
or the Mormons or the press
or the wire services.
That was not in my plans.
I really didn't have
much choice
other than to make
some kind of move in my life.
I had promised God
I was gonna write the book.
Finally.
No matter how much it hurt me.
But someone broke into
my pickup truck.
I had an entire cab
full of materials.
I had court cases,
court records.
I had all
the interview witnesses.
I had all the exhibits.
I had the original
modeling portfolio
which matched the head
that was put on the naked body.
My whole life is
in those three suitcases.
And this was an old pickup.
They pried the wing open
with an orange screwdriver,
and they took coat hangers,
pulled the door open,
took absolutely everything
documenting the story
I've just told you,
took everything,
with the exception of one little
yellow laundry basket
which had somehow
wedged under the seat.
At least I had something to show
that this nightmare ordeal
happened to what was once
a normal, all-American kid.
"After her miraculous escape
to America,
"Joyce retreats into seclusion
to write a book
"about her love story.
"She vows never to marry,
"knowing fully
that she could never love
"another man other than Kirk,
"for she will grow old alone.
"The love that once spanned
an entire continent
and ocean still exists."
"Time changes, but the scene
is still the same.
"Joyce is now
a lonely old woman.
"Like Narcissus,
she is pining to death,
dying of a broken heart."
That's the conclusion
of my book,
but the love has never ended.