Klever Foxes Aren't So Clever

In this explosive episode of The Meyers Family Conspiracy, we peel back the layers of a calculated rental scam that hit close to home. Meet Sean Kellen Edenfield—better known online as "Kleverfox"—a man whose trail of manipulation finally hit a dead end at 1218 West Market Street in Greensboro.

Through a detailed forensic audit, we break down the mechanics of the "Klever" fox's game:

• The Sublet Scheme: How Edenfield illegally rented out a studio apartment he had no authority over.
• The Psychological Warfare: From the staged, trashed porch to the volatile, racist confrontations with neighbors that signaled a man losing control.
• The Final Act: The timeline leading up to his arrest by the Guilford County Sheriff’s Office as a fugitive from justice.

They say foxes are smart, but some are just desperate. This is the documentation of a grift gone wrong and the accountability that follows when the audit begins.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:01

This is not a retrospective. This is not a script written after the fact for your entertainment. This is a real-time audit of a life under siege. As I record these words, I am standing in the wreckage of a scam. Folding my clothes in a friend's home because a fugitive stole my stability. This isn't just unfiltered. It's happening now. Every second of this is a high-stakes documentation of my reality. Not a reality I asked for. If you want to sit in your safe living room, or wherever you happen to be listening to this, and judge me, or think I'm a loser, or a piece of shit for the situation I'm in, no man porta. Your opinion has no weight against the facts of this audit. You can all suck my fucking dick. This is the truth. And it's happening in real time. There is a principle in physics called inertia. An object in motion stays in motion. For a long time, my motion was stalled. From June to August of 2025, I was trapped in a chemical stupor from a Haldal trilital cocktail following a hospital stint in Bluefield. It wasn't just a fog. It was a physical prison. I developed tardive dyskinesia. Involuntary jerky movements that affected me heavily, making it feel like I'd lost control of my own biology. It took months for those symptoms to dissipate. Even now, they haven't fully left. They come back like a ghost whenever my stress levels spike. It just is what it is. But I didn't fall through the cracks because of my birth family. It was because of the family that chose me, my friends, Brian and Stephanie. If it wasn't for them, I don't think I'd be standing here today. When I walked out of that hospital broken and chemically compromised, they made sure I had somewhere to go. They didn't just give me a room, they gave me a chance to survive. They were the safety net that kept something truly terrible from happening to me. They held the line until the fog finally lifted. Once my synapses were firing at their normal rapid baseline, I knew it was time to move. To get that momentum back. I was able to get a job after applying all over the place and getting absolutely nowhere and resumes and interviews and just nothing. I took a job at a really shitty laundromat called All Washed Up. Under the table, I was paid $200 a week. That's $50 an hour. Or sorry, $50 a day at eight hours, sometimes eight and a half, which equates to around $6.60 an hour. I did that just to pay for the $300 hair follicle tests, of which three I had to take, required for the court order regarding Chiara. Once that was handled, I moved up. Once that was handled, I moved up. I started working hard at a local restaurant. Now cross-training on new stations, executing a rigid plan for management within the course of a couple years. Salary 401k. I can go into my 50s working smart and building a financial future, something I've wanted to do forever, and uh this is a great opportunity. I'm very grateful for that. And everything I do is for my six-year-old daughter Chiara. To satisfy our court order, I play completely by the book. I attend weekly online therapy, but there is a massive psychological cost to how I have to do it. Part of the order requires me to grant my co-parents' lawyer full access to my medical and therapy records. Now let's be clear. This is a fundamental violation of the therapeutic alliance. For therapy to work, there must be a safe container. My container has a glass wall with a hostile attorney standing on the other side. Yeah, fuck you, Dan Bullard, you piece of shit. It forces me into a state of chronic hypervigilance. Instead of being able to process trauma freely, I have to self-censor and intellectualize every emotion. Knowing my private pain can be weaponized against me in a deposition because it already fucking has been. Again, fuck you, Dan Bullard. And fuck your mother too. For letting your father coming her instead of shooting you down her fucking windpipe. Piece of shit, pig fuck. I fucking hate that guy. This is an intrusive, pathologizing loop that treats my mental health as a discovery exhibit rather than a human right. It is a total detriment to my stability. But I endure the bullshit because Chiara is the only priority. The level of infinite fucking patience, man. Final piece of the puzzle to secure my time with her was a stable physical address. While searching for a way to stay within my budget and save for down payment on my own house, I saw an ad on the Greensboro Housing Group on Facebook. It looks like the perfect temporary stepping stone. Enter Sean Kellen Edenfield. He goes by Kellen Fox or online Clever Fox with the C being replaced with a K. We agree to meet at Lake Daniel Park to feel each other out in Greensboro. He seemed like a chill guy, a chill guy, rather, in the music scene. And because of Thorough, I did run a background check. He had some minor driving and f well, I mean, they're I mean, I don't know, I think they're really stupid driving charges, uh, meaning like he's a bad driver and dude, like what the fuck. Um, and there was a pass charge for possessing up to a half ounce of marijuana, which under Nancy General Statute 90 hyphen 95 is just a class 3 misdemeanor and nothing that suggested he was a threat. And I know this because I've had one of those myself. Went to trial over it and was found not guilty by Catherine Overby. We've talked about this. So he offers me a fully furnished studio apartment. This is Apartment E at 1218 West Market Street. We agree on a month-to-month lease at $600 a month, with me paying $300 bi-weekly for the first month. Shake hands, get the paperwork done, felt like a win, but it wasn't. The alarms started ringing almost immediately. Let's open the forensic ledger. Red flag one. The stagnant eviction. Fox is supposedly moving into his house or a new house or whatever the case may be, yeah, at 1115 Gregory Street. Yet his gear, uh, an electronic drum kit, TV, speakers, shitloads of boxes, has completely taken over the front porch of the Westmarket Street address. He's acting like a man who just found someone to subsidize his storage unit. Red flag two. To financial squeeze. Forgive me. Just one day into the agreement, he approaches me. He asks for the second half of the rent early, dangling a $50 discount. This is a classic sign of someone drowning financially. A textbook, symptom of fraudulent inducement. I told him my budget was strictly fixed at 300 pi weekly, as I had already spoken to him about, and he had already agreed to, and the paperwork was already drafted up. I declined. Clearly. Who the fuck would accept that? Fucking stupid. I'm so pissed off. Red flag three. The shadow sublet. Then came the instruction that broke the illusion. Fox told me that if Marathon Rentals or the other tenants saw me, I was to say I was just his friend, not a subletter. Mind you, this shit happened after I'm already fucking in there. I'm already in there. Like everything's done. The agreement's made, he's paid, like, we're doing this. Legally collecting rent for an apartment, you have no authority to sublet. Edges dangery close to North Carolina General Statute 14-100, obtaining property by false pretenses. Then the physical boundaries vanished. Under civil landlord tenant law, a renter is entitled to the covenant of quiet enjoyment. This motherfucker treated my new studio apartment like a public bus stop. Incident one, my friend Megals and her toddler Sylvia are visiting. Fox uses a key, walks right in unannounced. This is criminal trespass under NCGS 14-126. Not to mention, what the fuck are you doing? And I understand that, like, you know, as the manager of the building that he purported himself to be, yeah, I have a key to every apartment, and I understand that shit. But we never made any kind of agreement where you just walked the fuck in. What are you doing? I told him as such, and oh, I'm sorry, I just went by to get some of my stuff. Okay. Well, he didn't. He just fucking left. Megan and I are looking at each other like, are you serious? Did this what? Incident two. I explicitly text him that my other friend Megan was stopping by to visit and check to see how I'm doing. You know, it's nice to share with people, hey, I've got a new apartment. You want your friends to see that you're doing good. And she can give me some advice on setting it up for Chiara and shit like that, you know. Most motherfucker ignores the text or for whatever reason. And again, walks right in with his key while she's there, grabs nothing, and then speeds off in his Jeep before I he was just like open the door, sauces shut. I'm like getting ready to standing up, like, are you fuck? What the fuck, dude? And he's gone. I mean, this is harassment and a violation of the implied warranty of habitability. And if anything else, a really fucking dirty move. Incident 3. Friday morning, 6 a.m. I'm dead asleep. The key turns in and he walks in and he's lucky he didn't get shot. That's all I'm gonna say. About about that. I will make no more statements on that particular subject. But I'm shouting, dude, what the fuck? I'm sleeping. You rented me an apartment. What are you doing? Get the fuck out. He mumbles an excuse and shuts the door. I get up to get dressed and go after him, he's gone. That's the last time I saw him. Saturday morning. The scam fully collapsed. We're talking Saturday, as in right now, with this upload is on Wednesday. We're talking the past Saturday. So this is, like I said, this is happening in real time. Wake up in the morning, go out to the porch. It's a disaster zone. Coffee makers on the porch. Scattered. Uh yerba mate tea was scattered to look like marijuana, is what it looks like. It's like somebody took the coffee maker out of the kitchen that was used to brew yerba mate, which yerba mate is a collection of herbs from South America that you can buy in stores. Uh it's like an alternative to coffee. It's really good. But it's like somebody took the coffee maker and just threw it out on the fucking porch. All over shit. Let's just threw it. And so the yerba mate's all over the place now, and it looks like weed, which looks really fucking bad. As I'm standing there, uh Billy from Apartment B comes out. He's 6'4, I think around 250. Black dude, speaks with a sharp, articulate cadence of Patrice O'Neill, who is a comedian that I I fucking loved. Um both looking at each other. Did you do this? No, did you do this? No. What the fuck? So it had to be Kellen, had to be Fox. We didn't do it. I'm like, are there cameras out here? He's like, nah. I was like, damn, well, that sucks. Can't prove anything. So but it was clear it wasn't me and it wasn't you. So we sit down and start talking, he fills me in. So apparently on Friday, uh, Fox drove by while Billy was outside smoking a cigarette and flipped him off, yelled, fuck you, while he's peeling out in his Jeep out the side driveway. So Billy was so pissed he parked in his car in Fox's parking spot, which was mine, which forced me to have to guard my own car in the front driveway all Friday night into Saturday morning. He apologized for it. Um that's whatever, life goes on. Like, I don't I'm not mad at him for it, and you know, why would I be? Um that's just to me, like not something worth getting uh pissed off over considering the circumstances. Billy also reveals that Marathon Rentals had emailed all the tenants that Wednesday demanding the uh junk on the porch be cleared. Fox knew he wasn't getting his deposit back, apparently, also. So he was burning this bridge and leaving me in the fire. Apparently, I was just uh a quick way, a quick way for some money to get into his hands. I was a Patsy, I got used big time. And this is scary, like in the sense of how how how intricate this was. Like he posted an actual ad. I show up and I'd background him. There's people at bar uh the bar is it bar table? Bar table is a place, uh I think it's called bar table. Back table, sorry. Back table in Greensboro. Uh Laura Jane Vincent, this musician I respect and adore, uh, who I hadn't seen like in a long time. Um, I'd reconnected with her through Fox, and uh, you know, we had gone to back table together because he's showing me the showing me the place and everything, right? Um as as as he's doing that, right? Like, I'm meeting people that I'm gonna be able to connect with later in the scene. I'm meeting people that I'm gonna be able to do shows with and things like this. Not realizing that this is part of his plan to get me to trust him, so I'll fucking sign the lease, take the rent, and let that be that. And and when he's gone, I'm like, what the fuck, you know? Um, it sounds fucking fishy and it sounds crazy, but that's what happened. So moving forward, he's burning this motherfucking bridge, I'm left in the fire. Can you imagine what would happen if the law and marathon rentals both showed up and I'm there? Like, what do you mean? I and then I either get arrested for whatever the fuck um charge could be. I don't know, or I at the very least I'm gone, right? So the human brain, yeah, has a primitive threat detection center. It's called the Amygdala. And when it takes over, you see red. So I got in my car, I drove to his new place at 1115 Gregory Street in Greensboro. And I saw their neighborhood surveillance cameras as I was driving down the street, so I know that people saw me. Um, I get there and I see this thousand-dollar electronic drum kit just sitting abandoned in his yard. There's like Atari Apple fires everywhere. Like, what the fuck are you doing, man? Who lives like this? Take care of your shit. But like, again, red flag, red flag, red flag. Excuse me, sorry. So I leave a note on his door. Kellen, please call me Steven. I drove back, packed the little belongings I had in this furnished apartment, uh, took meticulous video evidence of my spotless apartment and the trash porch to protect myself from civil liability. Uh apparently Marathon Rentals already knew about the trash porch, so that was moot. Um I I was in communication with Marathon Rentals after the fact, and I mean they were kind of indifferent to anything. They don't care. I'm not there, and Kellen is their problem. So they were just like, whatever. And okay, that's fine. So I shake Billy's hand. He's trying to keep get me to stay there. He's like, you know, you can stay for a couple days or whatever. You stay there. No, dude, I'm fucking out of here. If I stay here and he shows up, I'm gonna beat his fucking ass. I'm gonna cave his skull in. And that's gonna I'm gonna that's gonna ruin everything in my life. I gotta go. So now I'm a hypocrite because as soon as I get in my car, I drove right back to his fucking house. So I sit in, I'm sitting outside his house and I'm screaming his name. Now I was fully prepared to just do this right in the street. You just cost me my place to live. You just fuck you not only did that, you fucked up everything I was trying to do for this court order. Your ass is mine. Well, he didn't come out. And thank God he didn't. At that moment, I'm looking at the center console of my car and sitting right there, sitting right here, right now. Is this here? Is a uh cup that Kiara painted for me. And I start to realize if I step on this property right now, like right now, like as of the second time. The first time I was just going there to talk to him. I was like, I I was I wasn't that I wasn't as furious. Um, but the second time I go over there, I was insanely furious, insanely angry. Um if I step on this property at this point, I'm gonna catch NCGS 14 hyphen 156.1 for first degree trespass. If I touch him, it's NCGS 14-33 for assault. And he's already got um in North Carolina on NC courts, you can search for any case he was involved in. He's already, uh, one time prior, I think it was like 10 or 12 years ago or so, he had filed assault charges against somebody who was a complainant. You can see it right there, it's plain as day. So he he he's a coward, he would have done that. That he has a history of that. There's history, that's that, that's real. So I would have gone to jail, and Monica's lawyer would have legally rightfully been able to uh institute proceedings to terminate my custody progress immediately. So I chose the cup over the fight. I drove straight to my shift where I work. Uh super early. I go inside, I sit in the back table, no pun intended. Uh a manager comes out, they've got a cracker barrel bag, and they're like, Oh, you're super early here. Are you okay? Is everything alright? You alright? I'm like, Yeah, I'm doing okay, but then I silently mouth the word, no, not okay. Well, there's actually uh four words, sorry. So she sits down and I basically tell her what's going on, succinctly, and I'm just like, I'm not asking for no help or nothing. I just need to sit here for a minute, process things. And if I feel safe here. Or if I just I just this is where I came. I hope that's okay. And uh she's like, no, no, I'm glad you feel safe here. I'm glad you feel this is a place that you can feel safe at. And no, please, please, you're fine. Do you want some breakfast? I'm like, well, sure. Uh she fills out the stuff from Cracker Barrel. I'm like, well, that looks like one breakfast. She's like, nah, I just wanted the pancakes. You can have the rest. And she gives me all the it was just it was a really nice gesture. I appreciated it so much. We eat, and uh, as uh we're done eating, I just I finish, I go to ask her, hey, look, uh, do you mind if I just park in the back? Um, there's a spot where nobody really fucks with anybody, and I won't uh I'll be out of sight, out of mind. I just I gotta figure some things out, and I I don't have I don't want to I'm afraid if I leave I'm gonna do something stupid. Um, can I please stay here? I don't want to fuck this job up, you know? And as I'm and she's like, clearly, of course she can, but as I'm doing this, uh another manager he walks up to sit down with us, and there's no way that I can avoid this conversation, and he's a good dude. So I very quickly fill him in and I say, look, just get more details from her because I just cannot, and good conscience, like I can't do it right now. I'm I'm I'm drained. I can't do it. Uh he's like mom's the word. And listen, we're gonna we're gonna help you out. We'll get you as many hours as you can, okay? Just trust me, like you just keep keep doing what you're doing. You know, don't do anything stupid. Let go and like God. Okay, alright. Well, vengeance is mine, says the Lord, right? So we're gonna let him have vengeance. Which is really hard because I want the vengeance. Later that night, at the end of the shift, uh, there's another manager that I sit down. And I tell her what's going on, and she's like, what the fuck? Are you kidding me? Like, what? I mean, these people are watching how fucking hard I'm working and how I'm just like I'm serious about not wanting to fuck this job up because I fucked up every job in my life, and I don't want to fuck this up, and I want to do good, and I'm doing good in my life, and I'm finally getting like I've been working hard and doing the right things, and finally things are going well, and then this happens. And she sees these things. Well, everyone does, but she sees this, right? And let me tell you what she did. She after we got off, after we got done and closed, she of her own volition went to two different hotels trying to secure a restaurant corporate rate to get me a room. Unfortunately, it was a blackout weekend, so it didn't work out. But let me tell you something. Her effort meant everything to me. And this lady is like a queen at being able to give. I'm sure other things, but that's not my place to judge. She's a queen to be at to of give my words are getting jumbled. She is a queen of being able to give you any kind of news without emotion. Does that make sense? Like she can do that, it's it's part of management and uh it's a skill I'm working on uh developing. Um she's just a queen at it, okay. Now uh she comes over to give me this news on the passenger side of my car and sees my stuff in my car. And you can just see on her face, like, oh my god, this is real. I mean, I know she knows it's real, but it's like, you know, as she's giving me the news, you can see it. And I told her I'll be fine. Look, my car is jet black with tinted windows, I've got a Sheriff's Association license plate, I've got a Blue Lives Matter sticker, and front and rear dash cams, inside and out. It looks like a ghost unit, okay? She gave me permission to park in the corner of the lot. So while I slept there, I wasn't a victor. I wasn't a victim. I was technically in a fortress. Nobody bothered me. So Sunday morning I took a whore bath in the public restroom at the I-8540 rest stop. I kept my clothes on, I scrubbed what I could. Of course, nobody was there, no family, there are no family, no uh kids, no nobody came in. Yeah. But I held on to my dignity by a threat. It was fucking humiliating, but it was necessary. I met uh Monica and Chiara at the rink in Greensboro, the ice rink. And every second watching Chiara on that ice reminded me why I chose to cup over the fight. And then came Monday. My phone buzzed with the final receipts. Sean Kellan Edenfield, aka Clever Fox. Was it a total extinction burst? The text logs I received from Billy show a man losing his mind, trying to manipulate the timeline one last time. So he shows back up, uh, Kellen does, at West Market Street. Clearly not to make things right, but whatever he did, it was a doubling down. So according to Billy, Fox showed up there and confronted Billy, uh, spouting off a bunch of racist shit. He wasn't a just erratic anymore, he's venomous, yeah. So he's turning his anger towards Billy, letting a string of racist rhetoric and hate-filled vitriol fly. It seems like he's trying to bully this dude into silence so he was wrong. For whatever reasons, I don't know if it was there or if it was at the Gregory Street place. But the guilt either way, either way, the Guilford County Sheriff's Deputies arrived. And they didn't just see a landlord tenant dispute or a you know, ex- uh whatever Kellen was to this building, ex-roommate, or ex-tenant, ex to a current tenant dispute. I don't know. I have no idea. I didn't know anything about any of this shit. Kellen told me Billy was an alright guy. So I don't understand what the fuck's going on right now. This is all just insane to me. It's like somebody saying, hey, I like bacon, but then you give them bacon, they're like, no, I'm vegan. You know, that's you know, same thing. So it turns out Sean just wasn't a bad guy. He was a fucking fugitive, dude. He was arrested not for uh disorderly conduct or you know, whatever hate crime could come from whatever he said. I don't know anything about that shit. I have to research it. What he was arrested for was fugitive from justice charged for extradition. He's wanted in another state. And that didn't come up in the fucking background check. All that bravado, the racism and the reckless intimidation. This seems like the terminal thrashing of a man who knew he was cornered and had nowhere left to fucking run. Now I need to talk about where my head is at right now. I'm like one step from crisis mode. I'm not talking about hurting myself. Talking about the primitive lizard brain urge to go out there and absolutely destroy the man who did this. Now I made a promise to stay within the law and I'm keeping it, but that doesn't mean the fire isn't there. I still want to fucking beat this guy's ass with a fucking rage that none of you have seen. I'm telling you. Like, that's where I'm at right now. But that promise that I made, plus the fact that he's locked up in Guilford County jail, and he ain't going nowhere. He's he's fucking done. Well, I mean, he is going somewhere, he's gonna be extradited, but that's moot. Um, in psychology, they have a term for all of this, yeah. It's called the amygdala hijack. When you're under chronic stress, whether you're juggling a custody battle, um, or you know, you're dealing with recovery from chemical trauma, anything like that, yeah. And if somebody violates your home, almost gets themselves shot doing it in the process, your brain shifts into a state of hyper-arousal. My sympathetic nervous system is stuck in fight mode now. I can't get out of it. I just spent fucking months getting out of it, and now I'm back. Are you fucking serious? Like every time I think about this, my body prepares for a physical confrontation. It is an exhausting high voltage state of being. I can't focus on anything else. And I don't like the phrase I can't. It pisses me off. What I'm experiencing is betrayal trauma. I look for a sanctuary, a place to build a life for Kiara. And I was met with a fugitive who treated my privacy like a suggestion. When your safe container is shattered, your brain views the perpetrator not just as a jerk, but as a biological threat. The rage I feel isn't crazy. It's a measured response to a predator. And I'm sitting here recording this in my car, drowning in that rage. Like But finally being able to take a shower, having clean clothes that I was able to wash. It's a reminder that I am a human being, not just a case file. I'm choosing to channel this energy into the audit. Every word I speak is a strike. Every piece of evidence I post is a blow. I am destroying you, Kellen. But I'm doing it with the truth and the law. Because that's the only way I stay free from my daughter. If I had my way, I'd have whooped your motherfucking ass, we'd both be in jail, and I'd be torturing you in that motherfucker jail every second of the day. And I'm not gonna do that because I made a promise. It doesn't mean I don't fucking want to. So where does that leave me? Right now, I'm basically stuck back at the beginning. I'm saving for my own place again. Um Sean screwed me out of my money, my security, and my stability in one fell swoop. Marathon Rentals took one look at that lease and was like, this is not even real. Like, we didn't authorize this. He can't sublet to you. I see his lease, I'm like, oh my god. So I got nothing, I got no beef with them. They were respectful. They were indifferent, but respectful. But as I look at the debris of the situation, I I look at the blessings I still have. I have what's left of my health. I have my sobriety. That's fucking amazing. I have a job where the people actually have my back. Most importantly, I have the Sundays at the ice rink. Now I'm grateful for the safety nets that held. I'm grateful that the truth, though, as always, is documented and verified. The money is gone. I've got to start over again. But the mission remains the same. And John, you should realize something. You are the luckiest motherfucker on the planet. You're lucky the Guilford County Sheriff's Deputies found you before I did. Because if I hadn't looked at that cup my daughter painted for me, if I had a gotten my hands on you, you wouldn't be sitting in a cell right now. There's a good chance you'd be in the fucking grave. You're so lucky the law got to you first, and so am I. Because you're not worth going to prison over, you pee fucking piece of shit. Now you might ask, why is any of this relative to the Myers Family Conspiracy? How does this have anything to do with the unholy trinity? With Stephen Kenneth Myers Sr. With Susan Myers, with Angela Mary and Myers Aiken. The answer is simple. If they hadn't done what they did, I wouldn't be in this fucking situation in the first place. It is because of them that I was vulnerable enough. Sorry. It is because of them that I was vulnerable enough to even be in that apartment. It was their efforts that put me in a position where I can't easily rebuild my life. But even with all that effort they have failed, they will always fail. I don't think they had anything to do with Sean directly, that's just silly. Of course. But deep down, it wouldn't surprise me if this was really a psyop my dad put together. Because that's exactly the kind of father he is. That's exactly what the army trained him to do. Motor pool my ass. I'm Steven Myers Jr. In this case is closed.