All language subtitles for Beyond.Belief.Fact.or.Fiction.S03E13.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

"Beyond
Belief, 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."

Observe.

A perfectly shaped square.

We set it spinning, and
now it's a perfectly

shaped spinning square.

But let's change our perspective
and see what happens.

By carefully blocking
out certain parts

of the spinning
square, it now appears

to have a pulsating effect,
almost breathing in and out.

Of course, it's
only an illusion.

Tonight, you will be asked to
perceive which of our stories

are real and which are illusion.

We'll tell you the answers
at the end of the show.

In the meantime, be careful
how you look at each story.

Make sure we're not covering
up some vital information.

For what seems to
be pulsating with

lies may just be truth
with a spin on it.

In the game of blackjack,
it's you against the dealer.

You both keep getting cards
until you're close to where

you end up with 21 points.

The skill comes in
knowing when to stop.

Would you like another card?

How about another one?

Your total is now 17.

Do you want to
draw another card?

Dale Blanken is a
professional dealer

for an underground card club.

He understands well
the odds of the game.

As an expert, he'd recommend
that you hold with 17,

but Dale's world
is about to change,

and the odds are he's in
for a very strange deal.

21.

Observe a typical client of
an underground card club.

Our story is not about him,
but he represents thousands

of people in cities across the
country where illegal gambling

thrives in the underground.

It attracts all kinds, suckers,
rounders, and very often

people with something to hide.

I can't believe
I won all this.

In this club, it

is the dealer, Dale Blanken
who is one of those people

with something to hide.

Something strange was happening
at Dale Blanken's table

this night.

Usually, in the games that Dale
Blanken runs, the house wins.

But tonight, something
very unusual is going on.

While everyone else
seemed to be losing,

one player was on
a winning streak.

A young soldier was doubling
up and winning hand after hand.

His attitude was that
of a man who knew he was

going to win no matter what.

Army wins again.

You're having a good night, kid.
I guess

I picked a lucky table.

Blackjack.

I mean, it's like
I just can't lose.

Everybody loses eventually.

Not us, Dale.

We make a good team.

What are you talking about?

Larry
Schmidt owned the club.

It was his money
Blanken was losing.

Everything all
right over here?

Yeah, fine, Larry.

Everything's fine.

Army's on a winning
streak, that's all.

Take a break.

I might as well
quit while I'm ahead.

Dale knew the
owner was not a man to cross,

and the soldier
was making it look

like Dale was in on some
scheme to cheat the house.

You look like you're
having a rough night.

I'm fine.

Dale
Blanken had one hope.

And that was never to
see that soldier again.

Hey, Dale, how you doing?

I got something for you.

Whatever you've
got, I don't want.

It's five grand.

It's your end, take it.

I don't want that.

What are you trying to do?

You earned it, it's your cut.

Dale checked
the soldier's name tag.

Shaltow.

Who are you?

What's your game?

You're the one
with the games, Dale.

You remember George
and Evelyn Shaltow?

Who?

Yeah, it's hard to keep
track of the names, isn't it?

There's so many
people you ripped off.

I never ripped anybody off.

You scammed hundreds
of senior citizens out

of their life savings, Dale.

You're out of your mind.

No, I'm not.

George and Evelyn
are my parents.

And it's payback time.

See you at the table.

Dale
Blanken had a past life

as head of a crooked
telemarketing business

that swindled senior citizens.

The soldier's parents must
have been two of his victims.

Blanken returned to
the blackjack table.

It was getting late, and
there wasn't much action.

But then one player
walked over to sit down.

Hey, buddy.

Can't quit now.

We're on a roll.

Get out of here.

Like, go play poker,
I don't want you here.

Good act, Dale,
but then again,

you always were good
at lying weren't you?

My parents bought
the whole thing.

Go away.

Leave me alone.
- I can't.

We have to keep playing.

That's the deal
we made, remember?

Is there a problem here?

No, sir.

No problem.

I was just leaving.

What's that cash doing there?

I don't know.

I mean, it wasn't
here a minute ago.

Larry, the soldier
is setting me up.

And why would he do that?

I don't know.

If you're running a scam
on me, you're going down.

Do you understand?

Yeah, I understand, but I'm
not scamming you, I swear.

Then you got nothing
to worry about, do you?

Dale had one
prized possession, his car.

And right now, a
drive will do him good.

Private First Class Shaltow.

How'd he get in here?

Oh, man.

I warned you, Blanken.

Nobody cheats me.

No, Larry, this is a setup.

OK?

That soldier Shaltow,
he's trying to frame me.

Look, he left his
dog tags, you see?

- Get out of the car.
- Take your money.

I don't want it.

Let's take a walk.

All right, Larry,
Larry, Larry, listen.

Listen to me.

Larry, you've got
to believe me, man.

He played us both, the
Shaltow played us both.

Just walk.

I'm telling you, man,
he played us both.

Dale
Blanken died that night.

Larry Smith never
found the soldier.

Then he checked with the Army.

According to military
records, Private Bruce Shaltow

died 25 years ago in Vietnam.

Did this story really happen?

How could the soldier have
gotten into Dale's locked car

without setting off the alarm?

Was he an expert at
disarming security devices?

And how did he learn to beat
the house at 21 every time?

Was he employing
some elaborate card

counting system, the kind
banned by major casinos?

Or as our story suggests,
was he a ghostly spirit out

for revenge against
a heartless con man.

Have we presented a story
based on actual fact,

or have we stacked
the deck against you?

We'll tell
you whether this story

is true or false at
the end of our show.

Next, a cab driver takes a
killer for a ride on "Beyond

Belief, Fact or Fiction."

What's the right tip
for services provided?

In a restaurant, people say
you should leave 15% to 20%.

But what if the
service was wonderful

and the food was
terrible or vise versa?

How much do you leave then?

Anything at all?

Waiters aren't the only
ones who live by the tip.

The same is true
bellmen, valet parkers,

and, of course, taxi drivers.

Floyd Cummings has been
depending on tips a lot lately.

And they're not coming as
fast as big as he'd like.

But Floyd has an appointment
the unexplainable,

and he'd better hurry,
because the meter is running

I've been
driving a cab three days

a week to help pay
my college tuition.

The times when business is
slow, I catch up on my homework.

It's one of the valuable
skills I picked up as a kid,

learning to read and
drive at the same time.

It's not easy money, but I took
the job because of the tips.

Most people are good
tippers, but there are

the ones that just give
you the price on the meter.

$10.00 it is.

Thanks for
nothing, cheapskate.

That's why I just
installed the insultater.

It's my little revenge
against the penny

pinchers of the world.

But no matter how
bad a day I'm having,

I can always count on a
pick-me-up from my girlfriend,

Sally.

Hey, triple nonfat latte.

You're the best.

Hey, what is that?

No tip?

You saving your
money for a facelift?

I can't believe you, Floyd.

What?

Oh, come on, Sal.

What?

No one deserves to
be insulted like that.

When they don't give me a
tip, isn't that an insult?

Listen up,
folks, we just got a call

from the police department.

They want us to keep a lookout
for a white male in his 40s

wearing a dark suit.

They think he may
be traveling by cab.

He's considered
extremely dangerous.

All I'm saying is,
You don't know anything

about the people in your cab.

They could have
just lost their job,

or their wife could
have just left them.

Have a nice day, sir.

See?

Is that so tough?

It's not so tough
to leave a tip either.

Saint Christopher, the
patron Saint of travelers

will protect you
from everything,

except maybe your attitude.

Maybe Sally's right.

Maybe I should just
lose the insultater

and put up the Saint
Christopher medal instead.

Then I'd lose the thrill
of seeing these cheap faces

after they've been zapped.

Oh, at least this
guy's got a suit.

Maybe he's got some
money to spend.

I'm hoping I won't have to use
the insultater on this guy.

He looks weird.

Hey, where to, buddy?

This is turning into
a pretty long ride.

That'll be $12.60, sir.

$13, that's a $0.40 tip.

OK insultater, do your stuff.

You're so cheap, you
wouldn't even pay a compliment.

I don't feel
good about this one.

The guy seemed really hurt.

And that suit, it must
have been 20 years old.

Well, maybe Sally's right,
I don't want to fight.

Neither do I.

Look, I'll get rid of it.

It's not the machine
you need to get rid of.

I knew what she meant.

What I need to get rid of
is the chip on my shoulder.

Sally was always right.

210 Westside Drive.

No problem.

What?

I don't have all day.

I could have sworn I put that
thing in the glove compartment.

You go to Bertram College?

Hey, yeah, how'd you guess?

Your cap.

Oh, yeah, I'm taking
political science.

I think you should
be taking driver's ed.

Yeah, me and everybody
else on the road, huh?

You know, driving's like life,
you can blame everybody else

when things go wrong or you
can concentrate on doing

the right thing yourself.

Oh, brother.

You say something?

I said, here we are.

That will be $26.00 even.

I couldn't wait to see what
the old philosopher was

going to tip.

I should've known, exactly
the price on the meter.

Something wrong?

Did I give you the wrong amount?

Oh, no, sir.

You gave me exactly
the right amount.

Because I hate
short changing people.

That was it.

This guy deserved an insult.

It's been a
pleasure serving you.

Have a wonderful day.

How nice.

You know, a few kind words
makes all the difference

in this troubled world.

May the sun shine on you always.

We've been tracking this guy
since he escaped from the state

pen a couple of weeks ago.

He's been on a killing spree.

You're a lucky man.

I'll say I am.

Or is it more than just luck?

What's
the explanation here?

Why did the insult machine
suddenly give complements,

and at just the right time?

Was it switched by
Floyd's girlfriend, Sally?

Or maybe it was Sally's
Saint Christopher medal

that was somehow
protecting and controlling

the entire situation.

Remember, when judging whether
this story is true or false,

you're on your own.

You'll be getting
no tips from us.

We'll tell
you whether this story

is true or false at
the end of our show.

Next, a Baker learns
the recipe for murder

on "Beyond Belief,
Fact or Fiction."

Do you have a sweet tooth?

Do you walk by
displays like this

and begin to fantasize about
the delights offered within.

Cakes are more than just a
delicious way to end a meal.

They become a symbol
for celebration,

family, and friendship.

Dom Desotos is a
world class baker.

Cakes are his specialty.

To him, every
customer is important.

But Dom is about to be given an
assignment by his new boss bake

a cake for someone
Dom does not like.

And before this cake
comes out of the oven.

Dom will have to decide
whether to stand the heat,

get out of the
kitchen with his life.

I've been
working for Duncan's

Bakery for the past 15 years.

I took great pride in my job.

It was a wonderful
place to work, only

a few doors from my apartment.

Hey, hey, hey, Dominick,
my favorite baker.

How's your buns?

But everything changed
when the owner, Martin Duncan

Sr., died suddenly
of a heart attack,

and his son Martin Jr. took
over the family business.

Give me
a few minutes, Tina.

I have some business
to talk over with Dom.

Have an eclair.

I don't want an eclair, Marty.

You know I'm watching my weight.

Suit yourself.

Go wait in the car.

I never
liked Martin Jr.

I don't know anybody who did.

As far as I was
concerned, he was

just a young punk in a silk suit
who treated everyone like dirt.

He was an insult to
his father's memory.

Mmm.

That is a good piece
of bread, Dominick.

But don't you go
asking for a raise.

I'm not asking for anything.

That's what I like about you.

You know your place.

I need you to bake up
something special for me.

I'm throwing a party
for Auggie Bennett.

You know who he is?

Yeah, he's a big shot.

That's good.

Big shot.

Shot Augustus Bennett just
happens to be the most powerful

man on the whole East Coast.

He's a friend of mine.

We do favors for each other.

You understand.

It's your business.

That's a good attitude.

It'll keep you healthy.

Look, I need a cake.

I want you to create
a masterpiece.

How big?

Big enough to feed 100 people.

Is it his birthday?

It's not his birthday.

It's a personal matter.

I took care of
something for him,

and we're going to celebrate.

Just start baking.

I need it first thing
tomorrow morning.

OK.

Yeah, he was a punk, all right.

But he gave me an assignment,
and I was set to carry it out.

And I was thinking if there
was somebody I like less

than that punk, Martin Jr.,
it was the guy I was baking

the cake for, Auggie Bennett.

He gave the good people in
our neighborhood a bad name.

But I had a job to do so it
was time to light the oven.

I was about to go
in the back when I

first heard this strange sound.

I figured it was just
the metal expanding

from the intense heat, even
though I'd never heard any

of it sound like that before.

Mmm, that's good.

I couldn't get Martin
Jr.'s words out of my head.

What kind of favor did
he do for Auggie Bennett?

It made it seem like
he killed somebody.

I didn't want to
think about that.

What the-- I knew
what I had to do next.

So I did it.

So what'd you get
me down here for?

Why couldn't you just tell me
what it was over the phone?

I-- I can't finish the cake.

What are you talking about?

Why not?

I saw--

I saw the face of the
devil in the oven.

You what?

The devil's in the oven.

Really?

Is that a fact?

What?

What's he doing there?

It's not warm enough in hell?

You get back in there, you
finish my cake right now

or you're fired.

I can't do that.

There's something
evil in that oven.

You get out of here,
and you don't come back.

I'll bake the
stinking cake myself.

What's the big deal?

I came home to my
apartment and told my wife,

Sonia, what had happened.

The devil's face in the oven?

It's a warning, that's
what it is, Dom.

I don't know what it is.

All I know is I can't
work for that man anymore.

It's OK, Dom.

Honey, you're a good baker.

You'll get another job.

Come here.

Dom, I think I know what Martin
Jr. Did for that Mr. Bennett.

How could you
know that, Sonia?

It's right here
on the front page.

Look.

Crime Lord Jake Phillips
burns to death in car bombing.

Bennett crime family blamed.

That's him.

That's the face I
saw in the oven.

Hello.

Yeah, he's right here.

What?

Dom, it's Connie.

She says there's smoke
coming from the bakery.

I gotta go.

Dom, be careful.

He's on his way.

The last
person in the bakery

was Martin Jr. I figured he
must have burned his cake.

Oh, god.

Martin.

There, baked inside the
cake, was Martin Duncan, Jr.

Evidence was
eventually discovered

that Martin Duncan,
Jr. did indeed murder

crime boss Jake Phillips.

Was Martin Jr.'s bizarre
death a classic example

of gangland retaliation?

But how do you explain the image
Dom says he saw in the oven?

Is it an optical
illusion, or a warning

from the soul of a
violent crime boss out

to avenge his own fiery death?

Does this story seemed
to contain the recipe

for truth or is it simply
another half-baked lie.

We'll
tell whether this story

is true or false at
the end of our show.

Next, a young thief
needs his lucky charm

to avoid jail on "Beyond
Belief, Fact or Fiction."

There is no more responsible
position in our society

than that of Judge.

It's a job that takes
the wisdom of Solomon,

the patience of Job, and the
common sense of Mark Twain.

It's no wonder the Judges we
have admired through history

have been a perfect combination
of strictness and compassion.

Troy Crane is about
to face Judge Waters.

Troy has never appeared
before a Judge before,

and Judge Waters has never
had a case like this before.

The final verdict
is anybody's guess.

And now the audience
will come to order

because the court of things
"Beyond Belief" is in session.

Troy Crane was a senior
at the local high school

in Butte, Montana.

He got along well
with the other kids,

but lately Troy had
developed a bad habit.

When he saw something he
wanted, he'd simply take it.

Troy thought he could
get away with anything

as long as he had his lucky
amulet, but he was wrong.

That's him.

That's him.

That's the punk that robbed me!
I'm positive.

What are you
talking about, man?

I didn't do nothing.

You smashed my case
and stole a gold watch

right out of my store, and
there it is right on your wrist.

You're crazy, old man.

Oh, yeah.

You're going to jail for a
very long time, you young punk.

Says you?

Yeah, says me.

On the day
of Troy's court hearing,

Troy brought along two
things, his lucky amulet which

was tucked under his shirt
and his mother who had raised

him alone since he was a child.

You OK, Mom?

This is all a mistake.

It never should have happened.

I know.

All rise.

His
mother believed in Troy,

because this was the
first time he was

ever in this kind of trouble.

Be seated.

Mr. Troy Crane, you're charged
with grand larceny, a felony.

I consider this a very
serious crime, young man.

Your Honor, may
I speak, please.

I'm his mother.

You may, ma'am.

I just wanted to say
that Troy's my only child,

and I've tried to
raise him right.

I'm sure you've
checked and can see

that he doesn't have a record.

That's correct, but these
charges cannot be ignored,

ma'am.

I know, and I'm so sorry, Your
Honor, for my son's behavior.

This is the first time he's
ever done anything like this,

and he'll never do it again.

I swear.

I
wish I could share

your confidence, Mrs. Crane.

There's something else, Judge.

I know this is going
to be hard to believe,

but the watch that he's accused
of stealing is really his.

Mom, what are you saying?

Quiet in this court.

Please explain.

I never told my son, but I
was planning on surprising him

with it on his 18th birthday.

He never had a watch.

And so I was making
payments on that very one

for the past eight months.

I should have told my son.

He pointed the watch out
to me a long time ago when

we were together at the mall.

I was going to pick
it up this weekend.

So you see, my son
took his own watch.

If what you're
telling me is true,

Mrs. Crane, it would have a
dramatic impact on this case.

It's all true, sir.

I would do anything to
keep my son out of jail,

but I wouldn't lie for him.

The owner of the
jewelry store has

agreed to drop all
charges if I pay

for the glass case Troy broke.

Of course I'll do that.

Please, sir, let me
take my boy home.

You're a very lucky
young man to have a mother

who cares for you like this.

I know, Your Honor.

I am lucky.

If it wasn't for your mother's
sacrifices, and the love she's

shown in this court today,
I'm quite certain you'd

be facing a jail term.

I know, Your Honor.

I made a big mistake.

I'm sorry.

I'll never do it again.

I'm inclined to
work out an agreement

with the district attorney.

Thank you.

Thank you.

God bless you.

Troy
felt he was off the hook

thanks to his mother's
heartfelt plea,

and, of course,
his lucky amulet.

What's going on?

What is that on the floor?

Oh, nothing, Your Honor.

It's just my good luck charm.

My hands must be wet.

I can't seem to
get a hold of it.

Bailiff, I'd like to see that.

What happened next,

no one in that courtroom
will ever forget.

A strong chain
has no weak links.

May we be together forever.

What's going on here?

This gold amulet was a
gift from me to my wife.

It was ripped off
her neck two weeks

ago by a young
assailant who I now

realize fits your description.

It was a brutal attack
that left a permanent scar

around her neck.

Yeah, but I didn't do it.

I think you did.

And I think you misled everyone
in this courtroom, especially

your mother.

Attorneys approach the bench.

Because of my personal
involvement in this case,

I'm forced to disqualify
myself as Judge.

However, Mr. Clark
I want to file

new charges against this man.

Felony assault and robbery.

Bailiff, take him away.

Hey, I didn't do it, man.

After being identified by
Judge Daniel Waters' wife,

Troy Crane was found guilty
of felony assault and robbery.

He is now serving out his
sentence at the Youth Authority

Farm in Bozeman, Montana.

His mother visits every week.

What really happened here?

How do you explain
the chain breaking

at the exact wrong
time for Troy Crane?

Was it just a
coincidence or was fate

tipping the scales of justice?

In the end, the
criminal was punished,

because the links of
a chain pulled apart

when you he least expected it.

Is this story based
on an actual event

or are we just
pulling your chain?

We'll tell
you whether this story

is true or false at
the end of our show.

Next, a curse turns a
beautiful woman ugly on "Beyond

Belief, Fact or Fiction."

We've all heard
expressions like, "beauty

is in the eye of the beholder,"
and "beauty is only skin deep."

Yet the beauty business as a
$100 billion a year industry.

Every day consumers
are bombarded

with countless choices of
creams powders lipsticks lotions

all in the name of beauty.

Jocelyn Marshall was
once proud of her looks.

She was not so much conceited
as she was consumed.

But things changed for Jocelyn.

Like many her age, she
feels she's lost her looks.

She's just invited a
famous cosmetic surgeon

to her home to see if
he can change her face.

At the moment she is so
ashamed of her appearance

that she's hiding her face
with heavy creams and lotions.

But the doctor is about to
uncover the terrifying truth.

As a cosmetic surgeon, I don't
usually visit patients at home,

but Jocelyn Marshall sounded
desperate over the phone,

so I made an exception.

She told me she
would never leave

the house until the problem
with her face was solved.

I had no idea what to expect.

Her bedroom was nicely
furnished with various photos

of a once pretty woman
I assumed was Jocelyn.

But what did her
face look like now?

And why was she
turned away from me?

Is this you?

It used to be.

But that person
doesn't exist anymore.

Well, what happened?

Did you have an accident?

No, this wasn't an accident.

This was done to me on purpose.

It was going to be a
special occasion for me.

So I made an appointment with
a makeup artist named Nicole.

Everyone in my circle
was talking about her.

I have two treatments.

A day of beauty makeover
for $500 or an ultra glow

enhancement for $100.

Well, I certainly don't need
to makeover, so for $100 just

try to make me look
even more glamorous.

Whatever you wish.

So what's the occasion?

My boyfriend plans to
propose to me this afternoon.

What a lucky man.

Oh, yes, he is.

I finally found someone
who loves me for who I am

and not just for my beauty.

I'm sure that's
been difficult.

My looks have always
been a handicap.

Until I met Ron I
never met anyone

who truly appreciated me.

OK, now I'll finish the eyes.

Close them, please.

Don't overdo them.

I won't.

My eyes are among
my best features.

They're a mirror
to one's soul.

Really?

Well, I think my entire
face is a mirror to my soul.

You may be right.

Now you can relax while
the foundation sets.

Would you care for some
tea, a nice herbal tea?

No, nothing.

I wouldn't want
to smear anything.

All right.

Miss Sleeping Beauty,
are you ready to meet

your Prince Charming?

I can't believe I've
been here all this time.

Oh, my god.

Oh, my god, what
have you done to me?

I look awful.

No, you look
fantastic, gorgeous.

Are you kidding me?

I looked better when
I walked in here.

OK, calm down.
I can redo it.

I can make in any
way that you want.

Just forget it.

You're totally inept.

You wasted my time.

You expect me to waste
more time while you

attempt to fix this mess?

Excuse me, nobody has
ever talked to me this way.

Maybe they were pretty to
begin with, so what would

they know.

But I'll let them know.

I'll tell everyone just
how clumsy you are.

You'll never have
another customer.

You are a vain
and stupid woman.

Pay the bill and get out!

What are you, crazy?

I will not pay a dime.

In fact, if you've done
anything to harm my face,

I'll come back
here with a lawyer

and take this place from you.

How dare you threaten
me in my own shop.

You're shallow and
you're self-absorbed.

I curse you.

I curse you with the
mirror of your soul.

Perhaps you had
an allergic reaction

to the makeup she used.

No, doctor, I came
home and removed

what was left of her makeup I
applied my own makeup myself.

By the time Ron arrived
I looked beautiful again.

Jocy, I've been thinking
about our marriage plans.

Oh, so have I.
I've been looking

at some European designers, and
I'm sure I'll make the cover

of Summer Bride magazine.

And I want to call it off.

What are you talking about?

It's just that I've
noticed some qualities in you

that I've never seen before.

You've changed.

I'm sure it was
then that the curse began.

Look me in the face and tell
me you don't love me anymore.

I can't.

I just can't.

I was in shock.

I couldn't believe
anything could go so wrong.

Later that evening
after Ron left,

I went to look in the mirror.

Oh, oh, I'm hideous!

When I first saw my
face in the salon,

it was merely unattractive.

Now it had grown
grotesquely ugly.

No wonder Ron turned away.

For the very first time, I
believed I had been cursed.

I was repulsive to look at.

This
is Nicole's Salon.

We're on vacation
for the summer.

See you after Labor Day.

You can leave a
message at the beep.

No, no you can't be closed.

No.

This is Jocelyn Marshall.

Look, I'm sorry about
all the terrible things

I said, but Nicole, you
have to remove this curse.

Please You have to help me.

I can't live with this face.

Please.

Please.

Weeks went by and Nicole
never returned my phone calls.

My face was ruined I tried all
these creams, nothing worked.

Jocelyn, plastic surgery
may be the answer for you.

May I examine your face?

Yes, please,
you're my last hope.

I'm sorry, but
there's nothing I can

see that can be done for you.

I'm horrible.

Why can't you help me?

In your case, I'm afraid
that plastic surgery

is not an option.

What do you think
happened here?

Was Jocelyn really
cursed by the beautician?

If her face was still
beautiful, why did she see

herself in the mirror as ugly?

Was it simply her imagination
that led Jocelyn to believe

her face was hideous or was she
somehow looking into her soul

and seeing the ugliness
that existed there?

Do you think this story
of vanity and revenge

bears the face of truth
or have we concocted

one beautiful whopper?

Next, you'll
find out which of our stories

are fact and which are
fiction when "Beyond Belief,

Fact or Fiction" returns.

Now it's time to look
back at our stories

and find out which are
inspired by actual events

and which are works of fiction.

How did you judge the story
of the blackjack dealer

with the crooked past?

Was this one based
on an actual event?

Who are you?

What's your game?

You're the one
with the games, Dale.

Remember George
and Evelyn Shaltow?

Who?

Yeah, it's hard to keep
track of the names, isn't it?

There's so many
people you ripped off.

I never ripped anybody off.

You scammed hundreds
of senior citizens

out of their life savings.

If you thought this story
of a son's revenge was true,

we gave you a raw deal.

It's a hoax.

How about the story
of the taxi driver

who decided to insult his
cheap customers, but was

saved by a twist of fate.

True or false?

Triple nonfat latte.

You're the best.

Hey, what is that?

No tip?

You saving your
money for a facelift?

If you thought this one
was based on an actual event,

we took you for a ride.

This one is absolute fiction.

What about the story of the
baker and the deadly cake?

How did you judge this one?

The devil's in the oven.

Really?

Is that a fact?

What?
What's he doing there?

It's not warm enough in hell?

You get back in there, you
finish my cake right now

or you're fired.

I can't do that.

There's something
evil in that oven.

Did our research show this
was inspired by an actual event.

Yes, it did.

A similar event happened
in the Chicagoland area.

The story of a
first-time offender

who was hiding his true
criminal nature from the judge.

What was your
verdict on this one?

What's going on?

What is that on the floor?

If you thought this one
was a figment of our writer's

imagination, you were right.
It never happened.

Now let's take another
look at the vain woman

who fell victim to
a curse that ruined

her life, fact or fiction?

I'm sorry, but
there's nothing I can

see that can be done for you.

This story of a
tortured soul is

based on an actual experience
that happened near the Florida

Gulf Stream area.

So how accurate was
your radar tonight?

Were you able to zero in
on the signals of truth?

Or were you lured astray
by the camouflage of lies?

One thing is certain.

In searching for the truth, we
are bound to discover answers

that are "Beyond Belief".

I'm Jonathan Frakes.

The
stories entitled

The Cake and The Mirror
of Truth are true

based on firsthand
research conducted

by author Robert Traylens.

For "Beyond Belief,
Fact or Fiction,"

this is Don LaFontaine.