Original subtitles

The line between truth and falsehood

is very often invisible.

"Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction"-- hosted by Jonathan Frakes.

We live in a world where the real and the unreal

live side by side, where substance

is disguised as illusion, and the only explanations

are unexplainable.

Can you separate truth from fantasy?

To do so, you must break through the web of your experience

and open your mind to things beyond belief.

The truth often lies in the way you view it.

We've all heard the question of whether the glass

is half full or half empty, but take this cake on a plate.

Is there only one slice taken out?

When viewed from the opposite side,

there's only one slice left.

The same is true of the stories you're about to see.

View from one way, you may find the true.

Viewed from another-- total fiction.

We'll tell you which are which at the end of the show.

In the meantime, enjoy the stories

and then make your judgment.

That way, you can have your cake and eat it, too.

The glamorous dream of playing in a rock band--

some realize that dream, but they often pay a price--

for instance, hearing loss.

Being close to speakers like these night after night

can permanently damage the delicate workings of the ear.

Earplugs-- highly recommended for both musicians

and their audience.

Lyle was one of the best rock musicians in the world,

but due to hearing loss, he can't listen

to the thing he loves most.

And now to his story.

It goes a little like this.

My name's Lyle Norman, and I've

owned Norman's Rare Guitars Music Emporium

for the past 10 years--

ever since I suffered a severe hearing loss after too

many years of too much volume.

Now the store's become my only link to the music

that once was my life.

OK?

What's this?

I didn't ask for strings, I asked for picks.

Uh-- I'm sorry.

What did you want?

How many times do I have to tell you

I need picks, not strings?

Picks.

Could you say that again?

Just a little louder and--

Picks.

Picks

Are you deaf?

Not completely, but pretty darn close.

Just give me a second.

If I could just tune these up a little higher.

OW!

I don't have time for this, man.

I'm late for rehearsal.

Wait, wait, wait!

Just write down what you want.

I'll get it for you.

My hearing was getting worse and worse.

I'd seen specialists, but none could help.

The business was going under and I was

in danger of losing everything.

You rock.

Oh, man, you're the best.

You're the man.

Oh, crank it up, man.

Let's see what this baby can really do.

What happened?

You're way too loud, guys.

Even I could hear you.

What are you talking about?

You see the thing is, ears are delicate little machines.

You can mess them up real easy--

forever.

If it ain't loud, it ain't rock and roll, old man.

Oh, I know rock and roll, kid.

I sat in with all the greats--

Hendrix, Cream, Big Brother--

we played real loud, too.

Then my ears went.

Oh, it happens to a lot of guys.

If you're not careful, the same thing could happen to you.

You're full of it.

I bet you never even met Hendrix.

Yo, I bet you're just some deaf old loser.

Let me hold the Axe, son.

OK, dad.

Be careful.

You might hurt yourself.

Uh-huh.

Learned that from Jimmy when he played the whiskey back in '68

That was dope.

It was not that dope.

Yo, Austin, you couldn't play that in your dreams, man.

Shut up, Thrax.

Come on, let's get out of this dump

before we go deaf like Gramps.

Hey, maybe you ought to take up the drums.

I didn't mean to humiliate the kid so badly.

I just wanted to teach them a lesson.

That night at closing time, I was still

thinking about those two kids--

especially the one fellow with the drums.

There was something about his face

that went past embarrassment.

There was hate in his eyes.

Hate-- for are broken down ex-rocker.

I stopped feeling sorry for the kids

and started to feel sorry for myself.

I wondered how long I'd be able to keep my store open.

Without it, I'd have to go on permanent disability.

I knew no one would hire a deaf musician.

In the old days with the band, I'd just be going to work now.

Then after the last show, we'd sit around

and jam, play for ourselves, and just try to impress each other.

I don't know about this man, all right?

Look, the old guy's got it coming.

You saw what he did to me.

He made me fall into the drum set.

So I'm going to blow out what's left of his ears

and you're helping me so shut up.

All right.

I'm here, OK?

All right.

Yahoo.

Had enough dude?

That's the last thing you'll ever hear!

That's enough, that's enough.

No.

No, it's not.

I'm going to show that freak he can't mess with me.

Yo, he ain't moving.

I think we killed him, huh man?

No, man.

He ain't dead.

He's just deaf!

Ain't that right, old man?

How's the music now?

Is it loud enough?

You don't have to yell.

I can hear you just fine.

My hearing miraculously returned that night

and I was forced to close Norman's Rare Guitars.

And I've even started jamming with the band again.

Do you believe this story?

How could damaged ear drums be repaired by high decibels?

Was there an obstruction plugging up Lyle's hearing

that was loosened, or even shattered

by the vibrations of the music?

If so, then why had no doctor ever discovered it before?

Is it really a record or a similar story

to this one taking place?

Or is this one only hearsay?

We'll find out whether this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, a farm house is invaded by a haunted

bucket on "Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction."

To many of today's children who

grew up in the cities and suburbs,

milk only comes in a carton.

The old milk bucket is still a familiar sight

on many of our nation's farms and ranches.

It symbolizes a rural lifestyle where neighbors

actually talk to each other, even if they

live miles down the road.

But this particular bucket and the story that goes with it

symbolize something very different--

the unexplainable.

My wife Maggie and I and our 7-year-old daughter, Amy,

are part of a small, close-knit community of farmers who share

and trade food among ourselves.

Gus is here.

It's a simple kind of life--

nothing very special ever happens--

except for last spring.

That was something we'll be talking about forever.

Hey, Gus!

How are you?

It all started with Gus Hobbs, a dairy farmer,

who lives down the road. - Yeah, get that side, will you?

He's been delivering milk to our farm for years.

You getting thirsty?

I sure am.

Every Sunday, like clockwork,

Gus drops off a week's supply of fresh milk in old dented metal

dairy bucket.

Sure was a wonderful sermon this morning.

Oh, truly was.

Very uplifting.

You know, either this bucket is getting heavier,

or I'm getting older.

Somehow, I don't think it's the bucket, Gus.

Well, how you doing, Amy girl?

You sure was the prettiest little thing in church today.

Hey, what is that back of your ear?

Well, looky there.

Thank you, Gus.

Oh, don't thank me.

It's magic.

There's your empty, Gus.

See you next week. - That's right.

Come hell or high water--

there's two things in this life you can always count on--

Gus and taxes.

Gus, Gus.

I got something for you.

Hey, what's this?

Oh, it's just your favorite-- strawberry and rhubarb.

Well bless your little heart, Maggie.

I'll probably start eating this on the way home.

See you.

O, Lord, let us give thanks for what

we are about to receive.

A week passed and a fierce storm hit early on Sunday.

No one got to church that morning.

Well, The last of the milk.

I really don't know if Gus will be able to get

through in this weather.

It's blowing up a gale outside.

Oh, you know, it might clear up.

He might come later.

Look, Gus' bucket is shaking.

What are you talking about?

It was shaking.

I saw it.

Well, now we know that you think that Gus can do magic,

but I don't think that his bucket will move on its own.

OK.

But I saw it move.

It was probably just the vibration

from the fridge motor.

Yeah, the storm's starting to break.

Maybe we'll get some milk today, after all.

What was that all about?

Take it easy.

There's got to be a simple explanation.

No, no, no.

Be careful, honey.

There's nothing inside.

Maybe the pressure built up because of the storm--

although I will admit, it does seem a little strange.

That ought to hold it.

Ned, do something!

Do something!

All right.

Everything's under control.

I want that thing out of the house right now, Ned.

Yes.

No, no, no.

Take it back to Gus because maybe

he can explain what's going on.

I drove as quickly as I could to Gus Hobbs' dairy farm.

It was only a short distance down the road,

but with that mysterious bucket next to me,

it seemed like the longest 10 minutes of my life.

Gus?

Gus--

I was able to get Gus to a local hospital

where they saved his life.

He had suffered a stroke that certainly would have killed

him if I hadn't shown up when I did,

thanks to that crazy bucket.

What could the explanation for this be?

Where there gases trapped within the milk bucket

that caused the activity?

Or was there some spirit using the bucket to send a distress

signal on behalf of Gus Hobbs?

Is this story of the milk can that seems possessed the truth?

Or are we simply taking a lie and milking it

for all it's worth?

We'll find out whether this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, the internet gives a young woman the shock

of her life on "Beyond Belief--

Fact or fiction."

There's a tradition at a wedding

that no single woman can escape--

that point in the party when the bride tosses the bouquet.

And as tradition holds, the one who catches it--

is the next one who will get married.

Lucy Robins has caught many bouquets over the years,

but she still hasn't been married herself.

But pay close attention.

Something strange and unusual is beginning to blossom.

Do you Alan, take Brenda to be

your lawfully wedded wife?

I do.

Then, by the power vested

in me by the State of Florida, I now

pronounce you husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

It's an exciting day for Brenda and Alan.

They met in high school and immediately knew

that one day they'd marry and spend the rest of their lives

together.

This is that glorious day.

I have been a bridesmaid at five weddings this year.

And although I'm very happy for my sister,

that's five weddings too many.

I'd much rather be a bride.

All right, everybody.

Come on, I'm going to throw it.

Get ready.

All you single ladies, come out there.

I've already caught the bridal bouquet at three out

of those five weddings that I've been in this year,

and I didn't even get a date out of it.

Here it comes.

I've got it! I've got it.

I've got it.

Not blessed with my baby sister's good looks,

I was beginning to come to the painful realization

that a bridesmaid is perhaps all I'll ever be.

Brenda and Alan enjoyed two wonderful years

of blissful marriage.

Everything seemed to be going their way,

but soon, tragedy would strike.

Alan would go on a sport fishing trip in the Caribbean

with his boss and several clients.

Their boat would be lost in a storm, and everyone on board

would perish.

Brenda had a hard time adjusting to the loss of Alan.

After a few months, I suggested that she move in with me.

Hey, hey, hey.

This is going to be great.

We're going to get through this together.

I love you, sis.

I love you, too.

My sister wanted some alone time,

so I decided to give her space.

Most of the time, you could find me at the computer,

surfing the web.

Somehow, on the internet, I could be myself.

I felt a freedom to share that I never

felt face-to- face with people.

It was so easy to talk this way, especially to my new friend,

Cory.

He seemed to be in tune with everything I liked.

It made me feel good to exchange my thoughts

and feelings with him.

No.

What are you doing?

I'm in this chat room.

I met this guy named Cory.

Want to try?

I don't think so.

Oh, come on.

It's fun.

You might enjoy it. - I'm not ready.

I don't think I'll ever ready.

I spent hours communicating with Cory

in our own private chat room.

The conversation was becoming more

and more intimate as the days and nights passed.

A date and a place to meet were finally set.

I couldn't wait to share the good news with my sister.

That's great.

I'm so happy for you, Luce.

Just be careful, OK?

What do you mean?

Well, you met him on the internet.

I hear sometimes weird things happen to people

who meet on the internet.

Oh, no, no, no.

Don't worry.

I always carry my little can of pepper

spray and my police whistle.

I'm not kidding, Lucy.

Neither am I.

Have a good time.

I arrived early for my date with Cory.

He was supposed to be wearing a red polo shirt.

Cory?

Yes.

Lucy?

Alan?

What's wrong?

I'm sorry.

You look exactly like my brother-in-law

and he died in a boating accident six months ago.

I almost died in a boating accident six months ago.

I have been suffering from complete memory loss

ever since.

Your name is Alan--

Alan Weaver.

Alan

Weaver?

Yeah, you know I think that you should come home with me

and meet my sister.

Over the next several months,

Alan slowly regained his memory.

He and Brenda fell in love all over again,

and they decided to rededicate their vows

in a full-blown ceremony.

And by the power vested in me by the State of Florida,

I now pronounce you husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

I have so many feelings going on inside.

I haven't really tried to deal with them yet.

Oh, by the way.

My friend is getting married next week.

And guess who she asked to be a bridesmaid?

Does this story seem possible?

Was the sister's husband really the victim of amnesia,

or was he trapped in a lie?

And what about Lucy?

Is there still hope for her or will her future hold

more disappointments?

Have we presented you with the truth in this tale of a woman

who never walks down the aisle?

Or are we leading you down the garden path?

We'll find out whether this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, an unsolved murder, and a witness that speaks from

the grave on "Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction."

An evidence bag--

all the pertinent information from a crime scene

is gathered here.

The contents are then removed and given

to a cadre of forensic pathologists, whose job it is

to analyze each item, down to the literal practice

of splitting hairs.

But the evidence in this story we're about to see

is turning up no answers.

It's a dead end.

This bag is about to be dumped in the unsolved cases bin.

But perhaps a witness will come forward who must be believed,

even though the witness herself is "Beyond Belief."

I wasn't surprised to see the detective

walking down the hall that day.

Ever since the young nurse Lisa Ayobi

had been brutally murdered, detectives were a common sight

around Camry County Hospital.

Lisa was found dead in a hospital boiler room--

stabbed repeatedly with a surgical knife.

No evidence was found at the crime scene,

and there were no witnesses.

But there was another reason I wasn't surprised to see

the detective that day.

I was the one who called him.

Dr. Moray?

Yes.

I'm Detective Dave Puma.

You called with some new information

about the Lisa Ayobi case.

Yes, it's my wife, Evelyn.

She and Lisa were close friends.

Yeah.

I don't know to say this.

A week ago, she began speaking obsessively about the murder.

It's as if she was actually there.

You mean the murder scene?

Yes, in a way.

The strange thing about it is she was

not speaking in her own voice.

It seemed to be the voice of Lisa Ayobi.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about channeling the dead woman

spirit, Detective Puma.

I know it's hard to believe, but I heard it with my own ears.

Really?

Where is your wife now?

She's here.

She's the nurse on duty.

I'll page her.

Lisa was a close friend of mine.

We went to nursing school together.

And your husband says you may have

some new information about this case that could help me.

I only know what I've heard.

OK.

And what have you heard?

My friend was found in the boiler room at this hospital--

stabbed to death.

What else?

The murderer stole her jewelry.

She always wore this beautiful bracelet and necklace.

They were given to her by her mother.

Lisa and her mother were very close.

I don't like to talk about it.

Thank you, Mrs. Moray.

If you can't think of anything else, let me know.

Please, don't!

Stop.

Where are you talking me?

I don't want to go with you.

Stop!

You're hurting me.

No, no.

Help!

Somebody, help me!

Where are you, Evelyn?

I'm not Evelyn.

I'm Lisa.

I'm afraid.

Who are you afraid of?

Don't hurt me.

Please, don't hurt me.

Here. Take it.

Take it.

Take everything.

Please.

Who's hurting you, Lisa. Who is it?

Do you know his name?

Jeffrey-- Jeffrey Weagen. My back!

Ah!

The pipe is burning my back.

Help me!

Stop, stop!

Stop!

It's all right, Evelyn.

It's all right.

It's going to be all right now.

She knew about the burn on Lisa's back?

That information was never released.

She's never said the murderer's name before.

Do you know Jeffrey Weagen? - Yes, I do.

He's an orderly here.

It's OK, Evelyn.

It's all right.

Jeffrey.

Jeffrey.

Jeffrey.

Why did you kill me?

What are you talking about?

Who are you?

You know who I am.

I'm Lisa Ayobi.

You're not Lisa Ayobi.

She's dead and dead people don't come back.

I did.

Who are you?

What are you trying to pull?

You took me down into the boiler room.

I gave you my jewelry, but you pushed me against the hot pipes

and burned my back and you stabbed me over and over again.

How do you know all this?

There was nobody there-- except me.

And me. Murderer.

Stop it.

Murderer.

Stop it.

Murderer

Stop it!

It's over, Evelyn.

It's over.

I asked my wife, Evelyn, why she was so willing to risk

her life to trap Lisa's killer?

She told me she had no choice.

Lisa was making all the decisions for her.

What's the truth here?

We've all heard of people who claim

to channel the voices and thoughts of the spirit world.

Did the murdered woman's spirit choose Evelyn

Moray to trap her murderer?

Or was Evelyn just a clever actress who had somehow seen

the whole thing and chose an extraordinary way

to communicate it?

Have you been listening to a story based on fact,

or have you been hearing the voice of deceit?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, two old friends play a mysterious game of life

and death on, "Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction"

Many generals have planned their battles

over boards, such as these.

But chess is more than a microcosm of war.

Relationships force over a chess board have a special quality.

The dual of wits is encased in a time warp.

Hours pass in which nothing exists but you,

your opponent, and the board.

Chester and Walt were friends who played chess

together for the last 20 years.

They know each other's moves inside out,

but the next move belongs to fate.

Walt, I feel particularly cagey this afternoon.

How do you feel?

Devious, Chester.

Real devious.

Have a good game, you two-- and no fighting.

Oh, it wouldn't be a game without a good fight.

Oh, you're the fighter, not me.

Right.

There goes Mr. Perfect.

For as long as I can remember,

my husband, Chester, and his best friend, Walt,

have spent their Saturday afternoons

having lunch at our house, followed by a cantankerous game

of chess.

You always grab the white ones first.

You are a creature of habit.

I am not.

Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to make my first move.

You always go first.

That's because I'm white always goes first.

Ho, ho, ho.

What a surprise--

King Pawn to King Four.

Just once, I'd like to see you make a different first move.

I could understand if you won, occasionally,

but you always lose.

I've won a few.

You just don't want to remember.

What did you do?

Take a bath in that cheap bay rum cologne of yours?

Why don't you stop sniffing at me

and make your move before the millennium comes in.

I think you just distract me so I can't think.

You don't need me to help you not think.

How I used to love those Saturday mornings.

That evening, Chester and I received a phone call.

On Walt's way home from the chess game,

he was involved in a terrible car accident.

Chester's beloved friend, Walt, was dead.

As the weeks passed, the death of his best friend

weighed more and more heavily on Chester.

He wasn't sleeping or eating well.

In some strange way, he blamed himself for Walt's death.

I knew that was nonsense, but the steady decline of Chester's

health was very real.

Chester, you've got to stop doing this to yourself.

Look, I been thinking and I've got an idea.

How about you and I playing chess together?

I love you Mary, and I know what you're trying to do,

but it just won't be the same.

No, it won't be the same but let's try it anyway.

It was a strange game.

Black and white pieces separated by themselves.

Isn't that odd?

Yeah, it sure is.

I ended up with the black ones, anyway.

What are you doing?

Are you wearing Bay Rum?

No, I'm wearing my usual perfume.

Then things really got strange.

There's something wrong here.

Yeah.

I think we should put the game away.

Yeah, put it away.

Images have been known to be picked up on camera that cannot

be seen by the naked eye.

I hired an expert in the paranormal.

After performing a series of extensive tests,

she concluded that there were no signs of para-psychic activity

in our house.

You know, all I can think is perhaps

there was a slight earth tremor that afternoon, which caused

the movement of the pieces.

Or maybe, one of you accidentally bumped

the table without realizing it.

You're probably right, doc.

I think I did kick the table.

Well, this makes me feel a lot better.

I'm glad you're so sure.

Thanks for coming around, doc.

And with all due respect to my wife,

she believes in all this paranormal stuff,

but I have my doubts.

Well to each his own, Mr. Higgins.

You know, my dad used to wear Bay Rum.

Is that what you have on?

Yes, yes, that's what I have on.

You ate everything.

And you're looking so good lately.

Oh, I love you, baby.

Oh, Walt says hi.

Hi, Walt.

I'm going to leave you two alone.

You have a good game.

Oh, I don't want to hear any fighting.

Your move.

You never change.

I know, I know.

Hurry up, hurry up.

How I love Saturday mornings.

Could this story have really taking place?

Was Chester just imagining his friend was moving the pieces?

Is there a hoax at work here or is

it possible that the spirit of Walt

had returned to the place where he was most happy?

Do you think the story of friends playing chess is true,

or are we playing a game of cat and mouse with you?

Next, we'll find out which of our stories

tonight were fact, and which were fiction,

when "Beyond Belief" returns.

And now it's time to see which of our stories

tonight are inspired by actual events,

and which are works of fiction.

Let's take another look at the story of the former rock

musician with a hearing loss.

Yo, he ain't moving.

I think we killed him.

No, man.

He ain't dead-- he's just deaf.

Ain't that right, old man?

How's the music now?

Is it loud enough?

You don't have to yell.

I can hear you just fine.

Did an event like this actually happen?

Not this time.

It's a fake.

What about the story of the milk bucket

that sent the mysterious SOS signal?

Yeah, the storm is starting to break.

Maybe we'll get some milk today, after all.

What was that all about?

Did the story of the exploding milk bucket really happen?

A similar story did take place.

What about the bittersweet tale of the kind-hearted woman

fated to be a bridesmaid?

All right, everybody.

Come on, I'm going to throw it.

Get ready.

All you single ladies, come out there.

Here it comes!

I've got it!

Did this story of unrequited love actually take place?

Yes, it's fact, according to firsthand interviews conducted

by author, Robert Tralins.

What about the tale of the woman who

was channeling the voice of a murder victim she never knew?

Please don't stop.

Where are you taking me.

I don't want to go with you.

Stop, you're hurting me.

No, no.

Help!

Somebody help me!

Where are you, Evelyn?

I'm not Evelyn.

I'm Lisa.

I'm afraid.

Who are you afraid of?

Who hurt me?

Please, don't me.

Here.

Take it.

This story of a crime solved with help from the beyond,

is it based on reality?

Yes, it is.

Let's review the story of the chess players

who could not be separated, even in death.

Isn't that odd?

Yeah, it sure is.

I ended up with the black ones, anyway.

What are you doing?

Are you wearing Bay Rum?

No.

I'm wearing my usual perfume.

Did you think we made up the story

of a paranormal chess game?

You're wrong.

It happened.

What does your score card show this time?

Were you able to spot the truth among the lies?

Or did you find our final conclusions to be ultimately--

"Beyond Belief."

I'm Jonathan Frakes.

Join us for more stories next time on,

"Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction."