Original subtitles

"Beyond Fact or Fiction,"

hosted by Jonathan Frakes.

Tonight, your challenge is to separate what

is true from what is false.

Five stories-- some real, some fake.

Can you judge which are fact and which are fiction?

To find out, you must enter a world

of both truth and deception, a world that is beyond belief.

Truth and delusion often blend together.

The examples are all around us.

For instance, this structure, some might call it a box.

Others a square.

Still others a cube.

But what is the reality?

A mass of confusion.

Tonight, you will view a number of stories.

And your challenge is to view them and decide

which are inspired by actual events

and which are a mass of lies.

Remember it won't be easy because if you've

watched us before, you know we don't

always play fair and square.

Step right up, ladies and gents.

Keep your eye on the little pea.

Which shell is it under?

Anyone can win this simple game of observation.

Let me guess.

You've chosen this one.

Too bad.

Care to play double or nothing?

Fast Eddie Gleckan grew up running games like this,

and he loves what he does--

not for the excitement or the thrill of the gamble.

No, Fast Eddie loves to cheat people out of their money.

He's a cold, calculating, unfeeling human being.

And where those qualities will lead

him is about to be revealed.

Jenny was the ex-wife of Fast Eddie Gleckan.

Eddie was the owner of a cheap tavern in a rundown section

of Brooklyn where I tended bar.

He was the kind of guy who would cheat

his best friend out of a dollar and brag about it afterward.

I should know.

I was his best friend.

What are you doing here?

I told you never to come down here.

I know.

But I came to get the money you owe me, Eddie.

I don't owe you nothing, and you're nothing to me.

You were a mistake.

That's it.

You owe me five months' back alimony and child support.

It's the law.

Oh, OK.

I'll tell you what to do.

Hire yourself a lawyer and sue me.

And then in a couple of years, we'll go to court,

and you'll lose.

Don't you care about your kids?

I care about me, Eddie Gleckan, not those brats.

They're your kids, so get out of my face.

Follow the lady.

Eh.

Oh.

Sorry, man.

You lose.

Wanna go again?

No. No.

No, thanks. I'm all tapped out.

Come on. Come on.

Somebody here can play me, huh?

I can't win all the time.

I'm in for 100.

Oh, baby.

Where did you come from?

I've never seen you in here before.

You wanna play the game or not?

Sure.

Sure, I'll play the game.

You seem pretty sure of yourself.

You lose.

You cheated, Eddie.

What are you talking about?

I saw you.

I run a fair game here.

You can ask any one of these guys.

Tommy, why don't you tell her?

Yeah, sure.

Eddie's an honest guy.

Wanna go again?

I'll be back.

And then we'll play by my rules.

Hey.

What are your rules?

You'll see.

For the next two weeks,

Fast Eddie couldn't win at anything--

craps, poker, three-card monte.

Whatever the game, he lost big time.

He didn't know how, but he really

believed that that beautiful babe at the bar

had put the jinx on him.

You'll never do it. You'll never do it.

Come on.

The dice are cooling off.

Let's go.

Eddie.

- Eddie, come on. - Come on.

Come on. Come on.

Where you going?

There's 10 more. Come on.

Come on. There's enough money down here.

Let's go. Come on.

You gonna throw the dice or not?

Hey, Eddie.

You've got to snap out of this.

Look.

It's just a string of bad luck.

Happens to everybody.

Hey, boss, high card wins.

For a buck, huh?

Jack.

You can beat that.

King.

Hey, hey.

You won.

My man, he's back.

Yeah, back.

Eddie's luck returned.

It was just like before when he couldn't lose.

No one could beat him, and there was

no sign of that good-looking chick anywhere.

I'm so sorry to do that to you.

Hey, Eddie.

What are you doing here?

I'm not giving you any money, so you might as well get out.

Eddie, please.

The baby's sick.

And he needs to see a doctor.

I don't have any money.

You gotta help us out.

You gotta.

I can't believe you came down here.

I can't believe you came down here.

Take it easy, Eddie.

You're embarrassing me in front of my customers.

Now if you don't get out of here right now,

I'm gonna call a cop.

And you know they're all buddies of mine.

How would you like for the kids to come visit you in jail, huh?

Is that something you'd like?

You?

I let you start winning again, Eddie.

You had your chance for redemption,

but you failed the test.

What are you talking about?

I had a little streak of bad luck, all right?

It's over.

So get out of my bar.

Here's $100,000.

I'll risk it all against your tavern.

What's the game?

You flip.

Heads, I win.

Tails, you lose.

What are you doing, Eddie?

Shut up.

Heads, I win.

Tails, you lose.

Heads, I win.

Tails, you lose.

Heads, I win.

Tails, you lose.

Heads, I win.

Tails, you lose. Heads, I win.

Tails, you lose. Heads, I win.

Heads, I win.

Eddie, what'd you do?

Heads, I win. Tails, you lose.

That's the oldest sucker bet in the world, man.

What's wrong with you, man?

I don't know.

I couldn't help myself.

Congratulations, Jenny.

The tavern's yours.

What?

I won it fair and square.

And I'm giving it to her.

Wait a minute.

Who are you?

I gotta know.

Maybe I'm the patron saint of abused wives.

There's one thing for sure, Eddie.

You'll never win at anything again.

Fast Eddie Gleckan only lived another two weeks.

He threw himself off the Brooklyn Bridge.

Who was the mysterious woman who seemed to hold

Eddie's fate in her power?

Was she really an avenging angel acting on behalf

of Eddie's ex-wife?

Or was she a clever manipulator able to trick Eddie

into believing he could never win again?

And what about that last bet?

Every gambler knows that "heads, I win, tails, you lose,"

is an impossible wager.

How could Eddie have possibly accepted it?

Was he under some spell?

Or by that time, was his spirit totally broken?

Are you prepared to make an informed

decision about whether this story is true or false?

Or are you just going to flip a coin?

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

at the end of our show.

Next, a photographer learns the true meaning

of the words ghost town on "Beyond

Fact or Fiction."

Western towns have mostly disappeared

from the American landscape these days.

Many have been bulldozed to make room

for strip malls and freeways.

Some have been saved as tourist attractions,

history preserved to sell beer and T-shirts.

Still others stand deserted.

No horses move down their empty streets.

No people walk through their swinging doors.

Thomas L. Fergus is about to happen upon the strangest

of Western settings.

In fact, you might say it's a location that truly

deserves the name ghost town.

I'd been traveling around the Southwest

shooting photos of ghost towns for a national magazine when

my truck blew a radiator hose.

I couldn't have picked a better place.

They were having a cold spell.

It was somewhere around 115 in the shade.

I knew one thing.

I had to get out of the heat.

No signal.

I wasn't surprised.

They never work when you really need them.

I really needed water now.

I was getting dizzy, and I wasn't sweating anymore.

And everywhere I looked I saw nothing but sun.

Somehow, after almost fainting, I got my second wind.

According to my map, I was only a few miles away from a ghost

town called Red Ridge.

I was hoping there was a gas station

there or a phone that worked.

I found Red Ridge, but there was no gas station

and not a tourist in sight.

The town looked completely deserted.

I couldn't believe it.

I heard people inside, and I thought

I could finally get some help.

Boy, was I wrong.

My truck broke down.

I was wondering where the nearest gas station is.

Where did you get those clothes?

Wearing your skivvies in public.

My skivvies?

Well, I--

Oh, I get it.

You're shooting a movie here, huh?

Huh.

You're joking, right?

Who you calling a joke?

I meant no harm.

I didn't mean to offend you.

Weird.

Very weird.

Hi, y'all.

What'll you have?

A cold beer.

We've got beer, but it ain't cold.

Fine. I'll drink anything.

My truck broke down.

I really need to find a gas station.

Do you mind if I use your phone?

Use my what?

Your phone.

Your telephone.

Why do I have to explain everything here?

That'll be two bits for the beer.

What is this?

Come on.

It's a $20 bill, man.

You got gold or silver?

No, I don't.

Then you don't get no beer.

Look.

You can keep the change.

Just give me something to drink, please.

I've been baking under that sun for the last two hours.

And nobody's making any sense here.

Yeah.

Well, the heat can play tricks with your mind, son.

It's not the heat.

Excuse me.

This can't be.

Something-- something's wrong here.

What year is it?

It's 1848.

What year you think it is?

It can't be 1848.

That's more than 150 years ago.

This can't be happening.

Who are you people?

Why are you doing this to me?

What's going on here?

Whoa.

Hey.

All right.

I don't like strangers in my town causing trouble.

You understand me, boy?

I'm not trying to cause any trouble.

I just want to get out of here.

All right.

I'm gonna call a friend.

I'm gonna have him pick me up.

You'll never see me again.

I promise.

Drop your weapon now.

This is not a weapon.

This is a phone.

You call people with it.

See?

Oh.

Let's go, boy.

I woke up the next morning

in a jail cell.

At first, I didn't know where I was.

Then it all started coming back.

And then I heard the truck engine.

Sheriff.

Sheriff, let me out of here.

Sheriff.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Ho, ho, ho.

I am so glad to see you.

Wait a minute.

You're the bartender from that saloon.

Bartender?

I don't think so.

That saloon hasn't been open for over 100 years.

But there were people and music.

It was 1848.

And they didn't know what a $20 bill was.

And then the sheriff shot me.

And-- ugh.

Hey, hey, hey.

Take it easy.

Have some water.

Then he said the same words

the bartender said.

The heat can play tricks with your mind, son.

I just wanna get my truck fixed and go home.

Hope in.

I'll take you to a gas station.

You're probably suffering from heatstroke.

Happens all the time out here.

It just seemed so real.

What is it?

Nothing.

Just an old cell phone.

As you might have guessed, the photos Thomas took never

came out.

Was he the victim of heatstroke?

Doctors tell us prolonged sun exposure

and dehydration can cause a person to hallucinate.

But then how do you explain the bullet hole in his phone?

Could this whole experience have been a practical joke

played by a bored movie crew?

If so, where were the cameras, the crew, and the lights?

Or maybe it was one of those old frontier days celebrations.

Or just maybe, Thomas crossed some line

where the past and present are indiscernible, as

indiscernible as day from dusk, love from hate,

or fact from fiction.

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

at the end of our show.

Next, mysterious sights and sounds

in an old attic on "Beyond Fact or Fiction."

Not long ago, millions of American women

worked proudly as seamstresses.

Some worked in giant warehouses, others out of their own homes.

But all shared one thing in common--

pride and respect for their work.

Byron Tompkins's grandmother was a gifted seamstress.

And although her clothes adorned some of the most beautiful

women in the world, she herself struggled every day to provide

a good life for her family.

She's gone now.

And life is bumpy for her grandson.

He's married, facing struggles of his own.

But perhaps it's time for Byron to reap

what his grandmother has sewn.

My husband Byron

and I were deeply in debt after our restaurant went under.

We were facing foreclosure on our house

and figured the only way we might save

it was to sell the antiques we inherited

from his grandmother Lillian.

We really didn't want to.

It all meant so much to Byron.

But we had no other choice.

And this is Brunswick Model C, I think.

Yes.

That's brass.

Some minor [inaudible]...

Yeah.

So what do you think?

Well, there is really nothing here of worth.

I can give you $1,500 for the whole lot.

$1,500.

Well, this sewing machine alone must be worth more than that.

That machine is a piece of history.

My grandmother was a seamstress at MGM Studios

over 60 years ago.

And she made a lot of great costumes on that machine.

Well, it might be worth a little more if it worked.

But I'm afraid in its present condition,

it is just a piece of junk. I am sorry.

No. It works.

It works. Look.

You just have to know how to work it.

Please, please, Mr. Tompkins.

You have my offer.

You may take it, or you may leave it.

Hm?

$1,500 for my grandmother's life?

We're gonna leave it. - Fine.

OK.

Are you crazy?

Mr. Montague?

Yes.

We'd like to think about it.

Can we call you tomorrow?

Of course.

Think all you want.

You won't do better anywhere else.

I guarantee it.

I'll walk you to the door.

Ah, most kind.

That's weird.

I can't believe that.

1,500 bucks for all that stuff.

And you know he's just gonna turn around and sell

it for five times that much.

Byron, I know it's not a lot of money.

But it will buy us a little more time.

I think your grandmother would understand.

Why is this happening to us?

First, the restaurant, and now we might lose the house.

Ah.

I just don't get it, Sylvie.

You know, these things happen to everybody.

But we'll get through.

We've done it before.

I'll call Montague in the morning.

Right now I just wanna go to bed and dream of being rich.

Look.

Look at this.

All my buttons fell off.

That's weird.

I'll sew them on for you in the morning.

Hm.

But I kind of like the look.

Sylvie.

Sylvie.

Wake up, baby. Wake up.

Listen. Listen.

Hear that strange sound?

Yeah.

It's called a refrigerator.

But it's coming from above.

There.

It stopped.

Now go back to sleep.

That's not the fridge.

Ow.

What happened?

You didn't drop these, did you?

Not me.

It's coming from the attic.

I think that's where these came from.

My god, what's going on?

I don't know.

It must have started on its own.

Byron, turn it off.

It's gonna start a fire.

Do something.

Oh.

Phew.

You think it's gonna start up again?

I don't know.

I didn't think it would start the first time.

That was weird.

What a trip.

Phew.

What is this?

What's GWTW?

I don't know.

Was this always on the machine?

Hey, what's this?

Oh, look at this gown.

It's gorgeous.

Your grandmother was so talented.

What's this tag on the sleeve?

Oh my gosh.

Byron, you're not gonna believe this.

What?

Vivien Leigh wardrobe, "Gone With the Wind," 1939.

GWTW.

We sold the dress

and made enough money to get ourselves out of debt.

Is this story true?

Was the sewing machine taken over by the spirit

of Byron's grandmother?

Or was it just some mechanical aberration that caused

the machine to behave that way?

But then how do you explain the GWTW?

Could that really have been a random pattern?

Or was that swatch there all along,

unnoticed by Byron and Sylvia?

Is this story of a sewing machine that

takes on a life of its own the truth,

or have we just stitched together a series of lies?

We'll find out

whether this story is true or false at the end of our show.

Next, a sleepwalker brings a curse on his family

on "Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction."

Can't sleep?

That's why devices such as this one were invented.

With the push of a button, our ears

can be transported to the soothing wash of the ocean's

waves against the shore or the tranquil sounds

of the nighttime forest.

Leon T. Woodward never gets a good night's sleep anymore.

But Leon doesn't really toss and turn in his sleep.

He walks.

And his sleepwalking is becoming increasingly

frightening and destructive.

And as for his wife, well, let's say Leon's sleep disorder is

starting to push her buttons.

LEON'S WIFE My husband

Leon was struggling to keep his business from going under.

We had a beautiful little daughter and what

I thought was a happy marriage.

But soon after our finances worsened,

Leon began to leave our bed at night

and go for walks in his sleep.

Leon would frequently trip over Peggy's toys.

He even smashed her favorite dollhouse.

I was worried he would break his neck.

Leon. Oh my god.

What? What?

What happened?

You were walking in your sleep again.

Did you hurt yourself?

I don't think so.

Leon, we have to do something about this.

I know.

I know.

Of all the problems his sleepwalking

caused, Leon felt most guilty about damaging

our daughter's dollhouse.

She loved that thing so much.

She spent hours painting and repairing it with Leon.

See?

Daddy fixed it.

I told you it'd be all right.

Thanks, Daddy.

I'll try not to be so clumsy next time.

At least your dolls are all right.

That's the most important thing.

They all love you, you know.

I love them too.

LEON'S WIFE I didn't

know what to make of the expression on Leon's face

at that moment.

But I've never forgotten it.

Months passed, and Leon's condition worsened.

He began going on longer and longer walks.

The doctor suggested that we put bells on his wrist

so we could hear him.

And thank goodness we did.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I even suggested a psychic healer named Madam Tula.

She had the reputation for being melodramatic,

but I could put up with the theatrics

in exchange for some answers.

What's wrong?

What is it?

Someone has cast a dark and ancient spell.

A spell? Come on.

This is ridiculous.

You have been hexed, Mr. Woodward.

You are doomed to wander in the night

for the rest of your life.

You will leave your home one day, and you will not return.

Wait a minute.

This is crazy.

What can we do about it?

How do we break it?

I'm sorry.

There is nothing I can do.

Listen.

I'm never gonna leave you.

I love you.

For the next week,

I hardly slept at all.

I laid awake every night making sure Leon

was still there next to me.

We even discussed securing him to the bed,

but only as a last resort.

Now I wish we had.

Finally, exhaustion took over, and I

fell asleep against my will.

I'll never forgive myself for that.

I ran through the house, listening for Leon's bells.

But I heard nothing.

This time, Leon was gone.

I feared Madam Tula's prophecy had come true.

Leon, where are you?

I can't think of anything else.

But I did tell you that he was wearing his striped pajamas,

didn't I?

I'm sorry.

But I have to ask this.

Is there any reason why he might leave you--

marital problems, maybe?

No.

We have a perfect marriage.

It was the sleepwalking.

I am sure of it.

Well, I'll file a missing persons report.

And we'll keep an eye on the hospitals.

If anything comes up, I'll let you know right away.

You will find him, won't you?

Let's hope he just comes home.

Hello?

Hi, Mom.

No, not a word.

I'm going crazy.

He could be lying somewhere hurt.

What am I gonna do?

I love him so much.

What if that old woman is right?

And what if he's gone forever?

Mommy?

Hang on a second.

What is it, honey?

I know where Daddy is.

I'll call you right back.

Where?

Where is Daddy? - Come with me.

I'll show you.

Sweetheart, you're really worried about Daddy,

aren't you?

Daddy said he'd never leave me.

He'll be back.

And we have to believe that.

But he's here in my dollhouse.

Look.

There, in Peggy's precious dollhouse,

was a doll I had never noticed before.

See?

It's Daddy.

What's the reality here?

Was there really some supernatural force

that caused the disappearance of Leon Woodward?

Or was it all a scheme to skip out

of an ominous financial situation?

What about the doll that looked so much like Leon?

Was it always there and not noticed until that day?

Or was it something Leon had made to leave behind

as a comfort to his daughter?

Or was it some strange curse that trapped

the restless spirit of Leon Woodward inside the walls

of the child's dollhouse?

Are you ready to decide if this tale

of the strange somnambulist is real,

or would you like to sleep on it?

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

at the end of our show.

Next, a woman is terrorized by a gang of thugs on "Beyond

Fact or Fiction."

The neighborhood laundromat.

Up until 20 years ago, most people living in a big city

cleaned their clothes in storefronts that

housed machines like these.

It was a chore, to be sure.

But it was also a place where you could

see friends, catch up on some reading,

or even strike up a new romance.

As appliances have become more friendly,

laundromats have become more scarce.

Still, some hang on.

Maria Sanchez owns one such place.

Her faith keeps her hanging on through many obstacles,

like bad weather, tough times, and sheer terror.

I'd been working hard

for the past year trying to make a go of my late husband's

laundromat.

I was raising five small children on my own.

It wasn't easy.

Business was very slow.

I couldn't talk the landlord, Mr. Flint,

into a fresh paint job, even though it might have

attracted some new customers.

I felt sorry for Mr. Flint.

He wasn't a very happy man.

How you doing, Maria?

Good afternoon, Mr. Flint.

I wasn't expecting you today.

What?

Do I have to make an appointment?

I own the place.

I know.

I'm just surprised.

Well, I got a bit of a surprise for you.

I can't give you any more extension on your rent.

You're two months behind now.

In fact, I gotta bump it up another 10 bucks.

Mr. Flint, I can't pay any more rent.

I'm having trouble paying what I owe now.

Look, Maria.

I have expenses.

I've got a business to run.

If you can't pay, I'm gonna have to evict you.

Not that I'm gonna like doing it, but it's the way it is.

Evict me?

But this is all I have.

How will I support my children?

What will happen to them?

Maria, I can't solve everybody's problems.

I have enough problems of my own.

Mr. Flint, why are you doing this?

We go so far back.

Why are you making this so hard for me?

You think life is hard for you alone?

Dirt bags broke into my house last night.

They took some things that meant an awful lot to me,

things I can't replace ever.

I'm sorry, Mr. Flint.

What happened to you is a terrible thing.

I will pray for you.

Hey Maria, save your prayers for somebody who believes.

You got another week, and that's it.

I prayed not only for the salvation

of myself and my children, but I also prayed to the holy mother

for Mr. Flint.

I asked for a small miracle that day,

even though I knew they don't always come.

One never came for my husband Ramon,

but I never lost my faith.

That afternoon, I filled the coin changer with my last

$150 in change.

I was feeling very fearful about the future.

What was going to become of me and my children?

I really needed a miracle.

But I got just the opposite.

I was about to experience a terrible moment.

Mm, nice.

Hey, mamacita.

Just stay away from me.

Who are you?

I just work here.

Please don't hurt me.

Woo.

It's Christmas.

Man, there's nothing in these things.

This place is a toilet.

Hear that, lady?

He thinks your place is a toilet.

This one here? One

Woo.

I think that's really rude, don't you?

Woo.

I'm good.

I'm good.

I'm good.

Now I'd do something about it if you

told me I worked in a dump.

What next?

Hey, money.

They were at the machines

that I just loaded with change.

They were using slugs instead of quarters.

It was like stealing the last money I had.

I want you to go over there and hit them, lady.

Please stop.

You're hurting me.

Yeah.

Hey, guys, look.

I'm winning Vegas.

Woo.

Stay down.

Don't move.

Give me some of them old copper slugs, man.

I wanna win too.

All righty.

Good luck.

Yeah.

Ding ding ding ding ding ding.

You know, you're very lucky you didn't get hurt, ma'am.

These same punks have been going from town

to town doing a lot of damage.

It was horrible.

I thought they were going to kill me.

Look at this place.

It's destroyed.

There's gonna be thousands of dollars worth of damage here.

I'm breaking the lease.

You're out of here.

But Mr. Flint, it's not my fault.

This is what your prayers did-- nothing.

All they got you was more trouble.

I'm sorry you feel that way.

Excuse me, Mrs. Sanchez.

It looks like they were putting these old coins

in your change machine.

Thank you.

Let me see that.

Are there any more of these coins?

Yeah.

They're in the machine.

I don't believe it.

They're all here-- every one of them.

These are my coins.

Your coins?

The robbery I told you about, they took my coin collection,

old English pennies.

They're worth a fortune.

But it wasn't the money.

It belonged to my father.

He gave them to me when he died.

His fingers touched every one of these.

I thought they were gone forever.

OK.

I'm gonna repair the laundromat for you.

You are?

You can stay here rent-free for as long

as you're in business.

What?

You have no idea how much it means

to me to get these coins back.

Your prayers did work.

It's my way of thanking you.

Thank you.

It was a miracle all right.

It was the first time I had ever heard Mr. Flint laugh.

Is this story true?

Could the same rare coins that were

stolen from Mr. Flint's home have really

turned up at the laundromat?

Both places were located in the same general area.

But what are the odds that those stolen

coins would be just the right size for the coin machine?

Do you believe in this tale of the power of faith?

Or on closer examination, do you find that it just doesn't wash?

Next, you'll find out which of our stories are fact

and which are fiction when "Beyond Belief" returns.

Now, let's look back at tonight's stories

and find out which ones were inspired by actual events

and which ones are totally false.

How about the story of the gambler whose luck

was changed by a woman with mysterious power?

Fact or fiction?

What's the game?

You flip.

Heads, I win.

Tails, you lose.

What are you doing, Eddie? A

Shut up.

If you thought this story was based on a real-life

occurrence, you're right.

It's inspired by a bar and grill where a similar story

took place in the late '70s.

It happened.

Let's take another look at the man

who found himself surrounded by the ghosts of the Old West.

Drop your weapon now.

This is not a weapon.

This is a phone.

You call people with it.

See?

Oh.

Did you think this story really happened?

We got you, partner.

It's a fake.

And what was your opinion of the sewing machine that

saved a young couple's future?

My god. What's going on?

I don't know.

It must have started on its own.

Was this story inspired by an actual event?

Not this time.

Our writers exaggerated the truth.

And now let's have one more look at the sleepwalker who walked

out of his family's life.

Daddy said he'd never leave me.

He'll be back.

And we have to believe that.

But he's here in my dollhouse.

Look.

Did a similar story to this one actually take place?

Yes, it did, in Florida.

In fact, when author Robert Tralins investigated the story,

he was shown the doll that was the tiny replica of the father.

It's fact.

How about the story of the laundromat

that was saved by the power of a good woman's prayers?

I can't give you any more extension on your rent.

You're two months behind now.

In fact, I gotta bump it up another 10 bucks.

Mr. Flint, I can't pay any more rent.

Was this story based on a real happening?

According to our research, this happened in the vicinity

of our nation's capital.

It's inspired by an actual event.

Tonight, we've attempted to demonstrate the similar nature

of fact and fiction.

We must weigh the difference every day.

And sometimes the only thing that tips the scales

are circumstances that can only be regarded as beyond belief.

I'm Jonathan Frakes.

Join us next week for more "Beyond Belief:

Fact or Fiction."