All language subtitles for Beyond.Belief.Fact.or.Fiction.S04E06.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

"Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction," hosted
by Jonathan Frakes.

Tonight, more challenges
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 this scale
model of an ambulance.

It appears to be a detailed,
three-dimensional object

with depth we can see.

But what is it really?

As you can see, it
has no depth at all.

It's a shell.

And so it is with
our stories tonight.

What might seem
real at first glance

may simply be an illusion.

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

but consider carefully
before you make your guess.

Of course, I don't have
to tell you these things.

After all, you appear
to be a person of depth.

For those of us who don't
travel with personal bodyguards,

there are a variety of gadgets
designed for our protection--

portable sirens, panic
alarms, pepper sprays--

all things we hope
to never have to use.

But they can provide a degree
of comfort and security.

Sandy Miller, a college
student, has never felt the need

for these products before.

But that's about to change.

In fact, she's about
to major in Terror 101.

SANDY MILLER
I had been extremely

nervous about leaving my
home in Steubenville, Ohio,

and traveling to the
east coast for college.

But as nervous as I was,
my parents were much worse.

I was their only child,
and it was hard for them

to imagine me being on my own.

But the school was great, and
I really loved my dorm room.

It was just a regular
room, but there

was just something about it.

Every time I walked in,
a feeling of well-being

came over me.

Hi, Mom.

No, everything's fine.

I just called to say hi.

SANDY MILLER
I definitely studied

better inside that room.

Everything seemed clear
there, and my confidence

seemed so much stronger
than when I was outside.

Ey, hey, Mom--

yeah, I got to go.

Someone's at the door.

OK.

I love you too.

Bye.

Dawn, hi.

Did you hear about
the campus alert?

No.

What alert?

There's a stalker.

He attacked some girl from
Palmer Hall last night.

What?

Yeah, she went out alone
to get something to eat.

He dragged her into the
bushes over by the fountain.

I heard she got
beat up pretty bad.

She's in the hospital now.

But they think she's
going to be OK.

That's horrible.

I know.

The campus police
are warning everybody

not to be out alone after dark.

The residents assistants are
handing out these air horns

and cans of mace to everyone.

I've got a big
French exam tomorrow.

I have to go study.

OK.

Don't forget to
lock your doors.

I won't.

Thanks.

See ya.

SANDY MILLER
Dawn's news about the stalker

really got to me.

But as strange as it sounds,
as soon as I closed the door

to my room, I felt better.

It was hard to describe.

I felt safe and warm, like
nothing could touch me.

I would have stayed
in that night,

but I had a paper
due the next morning,

and I needed to do some
research at the computer lab.

That night, I got into a
zone with my school paper.

I would look up what
I needed for notes,

and then the words
and thoughts seemed

to flow together so easily.

Three hours went by.

I was so caught up
in my project that I

didn't even notice the time,
and that everyone had left.

I should have called the campus
police and asked for an escort,

but I wasn't thinking clearly.

I was exhausted.

I had this feeling
that someone was

watching me from the bushes.

I felt an overwhelming
urge to run.

And then I saw my room.

I had left a light on.

Just seeing that
light and knowing

that I would be in my
room in just a few seconds

made me feel better.

You fight me, I'll kill you.

I had
no idea how to defend myself.

I thought I was going
to die, and then--

the strangest thing happened.

I told you not to fight me.

SANDY MILLER
The campus police

came and arrested the stalker.

They couldn't believe
that a small woman like me

could have overpowered him.

I told them I'd used karate.

They asked me
where I learned it.

I said I never did, but--

for some reason, I
just knew all the moves.

Can I help you.

I'm sorry.

My name is Margaret Walker.

This used to be my
daughter Trisha's room

when she was a student here.

Would you mind if I
came in for a minute?

Please.

Come in.

Thank you.

I was only here once before
when we moved Trisha in.

Are you all right, ma'am?

Trisha was killed in a
car accident last spring.

I didn't know.
I'm so sorry.

And my husband came and
picked up Trisha's things.

I couldn't do it.

It took me a long time
to find the courage

to come back here again.

Trisha loved this room.

I love it too.

I feel something special here.

That's good.

What kind of
person was Trisha?

One of a kind.

She was smart, beautiful,
a natural athlete.

Really?

By any chance, did
she know karate?

Trisha was a black
belt. She could

take down men twice her size.

How did you know?

Just a guess.

Did the spirit of Trisha
Walker really protect Sandy?

How else could she take
down a man twice her size?

Or was it Sandy's
will to survive

that gave her the unexpected
strength and skill

to overwhelm her attacker?

But how do you explain
the feeling of calm

that Sandy felt every time
she entered her apartment?

Couldn't that have been
the spirit of Trisha?

In presenting this story of
the student and the spirit,

we may have you.

If not, at least we gave
it the old college try.

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

at the end of our show.

Next, a chalkboard appears
to have supernatural powers

on "Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction."

The active mind of a child--

all these things are
designed to keep it busy.

It's been said that the
secret of Einstein's genius

was that he never lost
his childlike curiosity.

Even the great Einstein
was never able to unlock

the secrets found within
the thoughts of children.

Tanya Skinner was a young girl,
not yet old enough to read,

write, or even speak that well.

But as we're about to
learn, that doesn't

mean she can't communicate.

AMANDA SKINNER
I loved

my little granddaughter, Tanya.

She was the best thing
that ever happened to me.

I know everybody thinks
their grandchild is special,

but mine really was.

Oh, I don't believe this.

Where did I put her toothbrush?

Oh, take it easy, honey.

Look, it's right
there on the table.

My
daughter Dawn was a single mom.

She had a full-time job and was
trying to make it on her own.

To make things worse, that
day she was under the weather.

Oh, my head.

Everything aches.

Oh, Dawn, go back to bed.

I can take it from here.

Thanks, Mom.

I'm sorry to dump
Tanya on you like this.

Oh, hey.

I'm cheaper than daycare
and a whole lot more

fun than a stranger.

And I love to be with my Tanya.

And she loves to be with her
grandma, don't you, Tanya?

Don't you?

That's-- that's not for
home decoration, you know?

That-- you can
actually play in that.

AMANDA SKINNER
Tanya

still didn't talk very much.

But I knew she
loved garage sales.

And as usual,
there was one going

on in Marcus Tweed's driveway.

Marcus Tweed was the
kind of man who had

a garage sale every weekend.

I was never inside his house.

But I shudder to think how
cluttered it must have been.

Amanda, how are you?

Oh.

Is that your little
granddaughter?

That's Tanya.

Oh.

Uh-oh.

Looks like she found something.

Oh, no, sweetheart.

No, no, you have
to put that back.

Oh, you want to keep it?

All right.

How much do you want
for the chalkboard?

Oh, the antique chalkboard?

Uh--

No, I mean the old
piece of junk chalkboard.

$5.

I'll give you $0.50.

Sold.

Would you like
something to eat?

A little sandwich or something?

I think we might have your
favorite cartoon on TV

right now.

Do you want to watch?

AMANDA SKINNER
As I watched

Tanya play with that old
chalkboard, I couldn't help

but think she wasn't
acting like her usual self.

She seemed removed and distant.

It was almost like she
was compelled to keep

scribbling on that old board.

I tried, but I couldn't
get her to put it down.

Even though Tanya wasn't hungry,
I fixed her a sandwich anyway.

She was totally wrapped
up in her chalkboard.

And every time I tried to take
it away, she'd have a fit.

So I figured I'd just let
her play herself out with it.

I've made you
something to eat.

AMANDA SKINNER
At first, it

just looked like
the scribbling Tanya

had been doing all day long.

But then I took a closer look,
and I got the shock of my life.

Tanya.

Where did you learn
how to write that?

You don't even
know your alphabet.

Inside all those
lines and circles

were the words "save Mommy."

I couldn't believe my eyes.

Then my mother's
instinct took hold.

I had to call Dawn and make
sure she was all right.

Come on, Dawn.

Dawn, answer the phone.

AMANDA SKINNER
I left Tanya with a neighbor.

I felt like I was
acting crazy, but I

had to find out if Dawn was OK.

Dawn?

Dawn.

Please answer the door, Dawn.

It's Mom.

AMANDA SKINNER
As soon as I was inside,

I smelled the gas.

It was so heavy, I
could barely breathe.

Dawn.

Oh, no.

Please.

Dawn.

Where's Tanya?

Oh, she's all right, honey.

She's safe.

Oh, Dawn.

I thought I'd lost you.

AMANDA SKINNER
We found

out later that the gas main
had burst behind the fireplace.

If it weren't for Tanya and
that $0.50 chalkboard, I--

I never would have gotten
there, and my daughter

would have died.

To this day, I haven't been
able to figure out how Tanya

was able to write those words--

"save Mommy."

How could a child who
doesn't even know the alphabet

write a life-saving message?

Could it be the
phenomenon called

automatic writing, where a
person can actually channel

someone else's thoughts?

If so, who was Tanya
channeling, and why

hadn't it happened before?

Or did Tanya sense that
her mother was in danger,

and somehow summoned
skills beyond her years?

Does this story bear
the imprint of truth?

Or have we chalked
up another lie?

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

at the end of our show.

Next, a TV weather
man's predictions turned

deadly on "Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction."

Wasn't it Mark
Twain who told us

that everyone talks
about the weather,

but nobody ever does
anything about it?

True in Twain's day, perhaps.

But with today's
tracking satellites,

three-dimensional diagrams,
and computer readouts,

weather has become
not only predictable,

but highly profitable.

Brent Fillie is a popular,
well-paid, local weather man.

His nightly reports
have made him famous.

There's a storm on the
horizon of Brent's career.

And with apologies
to Mark Twain,

Brent is about to do
something about it.

Well, ladies and
gentlemen, what can I say?

That was another
encore presentation

of absolutely beautiful,
stunning Southern California

weather today, wasn't it?

And looking at our
local map here,

we can see that our
skies are clear.

Our temperature is 74 degrees.

The humidity is 48%.

Barometric pressure
is steady 30.09.

And the winds are calm.

Weatherman
Brent Fillie

had been a fixture
around Southern

California for 10 years.

He was well-paid, and he
coveted the power and celebrity

his job brought him.

Anyway, looking ahead now
to our five-day forecast,

we can see that we can expect
pretty much more of the same.

Our highs will be in the mid
70s, our lows in the mid 50s--

all in all a gorgeous
week of weather ahead.

Well, that's a look
at your weather

now here in beautiful
Southern California.

But if you'd like to know
more about the weather,

or perhaps even the Brent Fillie
Celebrity Golf Tournament,

why don't you check
into my website

at www.fillieforecast.com.

That's it for now.

Back to you, George.

Thank you, Brent,
for that great report.

Oh, and by the way, I'll be
there with my clubs and my,

uh-- well, my handicap.

And now, some late
breaking news.

More violence broke out
this afternoon in Dallas.

Yeah.

Brent loved
being in the public eye.

But there were two
different Brent Fillie's--

Right.

- the one the
public saw, and the real one.

Yeah.

No, see, just-- that's
what I'm saying.

I'm not getting paid enough.

No, people are watching
this newscast because of me,

not that has-been George Jean.

The guy can't even read copy.

Yeah.

That's what I'm saying.

They love me out here.

Right.
OK.

Well, I'll give you a call
right after the meeting.

OK.
Bye.

Hey, Mark.
Catch my weather?

It felt really good tonight.

Yeah, come on in.

Uh, close the door.

Brent wasn't sure
what this meeting was about.

But he knew he
could use it to stab

anchor George Jean in the back.

What's up?

I just got the latest
numbers, and they're down again.

Down again?

Now, you know what that is.

It's George.

I mean, come on, Morty.

You got to let him go.

He's old news.

And-- and he's killing
my viewer base.

You know, the people
just don't like him.

Actually, Brent,
we did a focus group.

And George isn't the problem.

It's your weather reports.

No.

No, that can't be right.

They say-- and I'm quoting--

boring and always the same.

Well, what do
these idiots expect?

The weather never changes.

I mean, come on.

What, is that my fault now?

If these people want
more exciting weather,

why don't they
move to Minnesota?

Look, I don't know what
to tell you here, OK?

I'm in the middle.

We got sweeps
starting next week.

If the numbers don't go up, I've
been instructed to let you go.

No, Mort, you can't.

Come on.

I'd be ruined.

I'd be finished all over town.
I'm sorry, Brent.

That's the way it is.

That's the way it is.

Right.

Brent Fillie
had a long sleepless

night after his meeting with
news director Mort Phillips.

He came to work the next
day committed to one thing.

He wasn't going to lose
his job without a fight.

Well, now it's
time for our weather.

Here's our resident
meteorologist, Brent Fillie.

Well, Brent, what's
in store for us today?

Ladies and gentlemen, pay no
attention to the map behind me,

because it is dead wrong.

There has been a sudden
and highly unusual

rise in the barometric pressure.

And I am predicting a
massive tropical storm

is going to sweep
through the Greater

Los Angeles basin tonight.

That's right.

We can expect gale force winds
with up to 15 inches of rain

over the next 12
hours, tidal waves

up and down the
Malibu coastline.

I'm going to be tracking
the whole thing from here,

downstairs in storm central.

Until your next update right
here, it's back to you, George.

Thank you, Brent, for that
rather surprising forecast.

Well, if you don't have
to go out tonight, don't.

The phones
at the station

rang off the hook
the next day when

the storm failed to appear.

But Brent had a ready
explanation for that.

Because there was
no tropical storm.

That massive front
we were experiencing

broke up into smaller pieces
and blew out over the Pacific.

But we are not going to escape
the tornadoes that are coming.

That's right, ladies and
gentlemen-- tornadoes.

They are going to come.

They are going to hit us.

They are going to hit us fast.

And they are going
to hit us hard.

Stay tuned.

I'll have more details
later in the news cast.

For the next week,
weatherman Brent Fillie

continued making
wild predictions

followed by explanations of
why they didn't come true.

No one at the station complained
about the exaggerated reports,

because the ratings
continue to climb.

High pressure
system coming in--

we're facing a deluge.

I predict a series of six
tornadoes piggybacking

their way through the Greater
Los Angeles basin, accompanied

by hurricane force winds.

Now, don't forget.

You heard it first here
on the Fillie Forecast.

George?

Wow.

Brent, thank you
for that warning.

Tornadoes, huh?

Boy, oh, boy.

Well, when we come back,
Stenson Gottlieb has the latest

in entertainment news.

He's here next.

Oh, that's great.

Brent Fillie
couldn't have been happier

with his renewed success.

More and more people were
watching his weather reports,

and they didn't care if
he was right or wrong.

Great.
Good.

No, listen, I'm telling you,
Joe, I've never been bigger.

It's unbelievable.

I mean, people are
stealing my garbage.

I'm like a prophet or something.

Yeah.
Yeah.

Of course, hit them
for more money.

Absolutely.

Yeah, as much as you can get.

All right.

OK.

What happened next
was completely unexpected.

Mr. Fillie?

Uh, no autographs.

But if you--

No, I don't want
your autograph.

You should be in jail.

My father died because of
you and your stupid weather

forecast.
- What are you talking about?

What--

My father heard your forecast
about tornadoes hitting LA.

Yeah?

He went outside to
weather-proof the house and he

had a heart attack and died.

You killed him.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Hey, hey.
Listen, listen.

I didn't tell anybody to go
out and weatherproof the house.

Your father killed himself.
- No, you're a monster!

Hey!
Hey!

Lady, get your hand--
get your hands off me.

You're a nut.

Tragedy
struck one of our own today.

Popular 34-year-old weatherman
Brent Fillie died on his way

home in a freak accident.

According to
eyewitness accounts,

a small but powerful tornado
touched down and lifted

Fillie's car off the ground.

After spinning it some
50 feet into the air,

the tornado then dropped
the vehicle where

it landed, right behind me.

Brent Fillie died on impact.

There is one interesting
side note, though.

There were no predictions
of a tornado from any

of the local weather
forecasts except for one,

and that came from
our own Brent Fillie.

This is Cynthia
Bellwood reporting.

Back to you, George.

What really caused the
death of Brent Fillie?

Tornadoes are the
rarest of occurrences

in the area in which he lived.

Did his outrageous predictions
actually come true?

Or had he angered the
fates once too often?

And how reliable were
the eyewitnesses?

Was Brent's accident
really caused by a tornado?

Or did he lose control of his
car and roll over on his own?

Or did the family of the man who
died weatherproofing his home

have something to do with it?

Could they have tampered
with Brent's car?

Does this story seem to have
clear sunny property of truth?

Or do you see it as mostly
cloudy with a chance of lies?

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

at the end of our show.

Next, a stand up comic
finds he can't outwit

destiny on "Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction."

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

You know, a funny thing
happened to me on the way

to the studio tonight.

Did I say funny?

Actually, it was beyond belief.

I'll be here all week.

Don't forget your waitresses.

The life of a stand comedian--

combination of laughter,
adrenaline, and a lot of sweat.

You live and die
with every joke,

and it can be a long,
hard road to recognition.

Nick Royce is a funny man
who's never taken the stage.

He stays behind the
scenes as a manager.

But he's about to
learn what it really

means to laugh until it hurts.

That
was my client, Joe Ace Grand.

Medication-- if I
start melting, you should

have taken the blue ones, eh?

Hey, don't be afraid to
laugh, ladies and gentlemen.

You know, it's called comedy.

You just open your mouth
and let something come out,

preferably something that
isn't a belch, you know?

Hey.

I got one for you.
You're gonna love this one.

Why did the chicken
cross the road?

Huh?

Shut up.

I love that one.

It kills me every time.

Oh, man.

I'm parched.

I feel like I licked
a desert up here.

Hey, I need some
water or something.

Where's my water boy?

Water boy.

Hey, where's my water boy.

Where-- hey, hey, there we go.
Close enough.

Hey, hey, hey.

Nick Royce, my manager,
ladies and gentlemen.

Everybody give them
a hand out, will you?

Oh, sorry, Nick, I mean a hand.

NICK ROYCE
And that's me--

part of the act.

Somebody put
water in my water.

Hey, Nick, you're fired.

Well, I'll be unemployed,
but at least I'll be dry.

Hey, very funny, eh?

You worry about the water.

I'll worry about
the one-liners, huh?

Sorry, Joe.

Yeah, yeah.

Anyway, hey, eh--

I had
always loved stand up comics,

and people always
told me I was funny.

But I never had the guts
to get up there myself.

So I became a manager.

At this point, Joe
was my only client.

The only time she's on
her knees is at church.

And I think she's an atheist.

Yeah, yeah.

You all have been particularly
privileged to see me out here

tonight.

Eh?

And if you're drinking a little
bit and you're driving home,

drive safely, because
I'll be walking

around out there, that's why.

Eh, goodnight.

NICK ROYCE
Joe wasn't making it yet,

but I believed that all he
needed was the right material,

and he'd be on his way.

That was like night of
the living dead out here.

That's because
you killed them.

Huh, funny.

Hey, maybe next time, you
can get me a paying gig, huh?

I'm working on it, Joe.

Yeah, "I'm
working on it, Joe."

Hey.

Hey, hey.

How you doing, baby?

Doll face.

Yeah, you.

Hey, how you doing, beautiful?

Hey, uh, is your father allowed
to be out this late, huh?

He wasn't funny onstage.

He's even less funny here.

Hey, shove it, Grandpa.

Guys.

Guys, guys, guys, hey.

No fighting.
I might get hit.

I'm very brittle.

I have a bone density problem.

I can take care
of my self, Nick.

I'm sorry, Joey.

Joe Ace Grand.

Hey, hey.

No autographs, huh?

Sean Shepley,
ShepCo Management.

Oh, yeah?
Hey.

I caught your act.
I think you're great.

Oh, well, eh, congratulations.

You got good taste.

That's More than
I can say for that

rug you're-- you're wearing.

What is this, badger season?

You-- you got a permit
to carry that thing?

That's why you're funny.

You're mean, and
you've got attitude.

Yeah.

- That's what's selling today.
- Yeah?

Yeah.

Now, have you had
any TV offers yet?

Oh, uh-- no,
but, you know, I--

I've been thinking about letting
the networks take a shot at me,

you know?

Yeah.

Come here, tell me something.

That weird little
guy over there.

Is he really your manager?

Or is he just your water boy?

He's just my water boy.

Yeah.

I thought so.

Give me a call, kid.

You got talent.

Don't waste it.

Joe Ace Grand.

Yeah.

Hey, yeah-- thanks, man.

Eh.

All right.

I'm too much talent for you.

It's like you're
holding me back.

I-- I got a piano
strapped on my back

wherever I go, and
it's you, you know?

Look, I want a release
from my contract.

I-- I can't believe
I'm hearing this.

I supported you, Joey.

I-- I bought you clothes.

I-- I fed you.

I treated you like
a kid brother.

And-- and this is
how you repay me?

But you're a loser, Nick?

Don't you see it?

And if I hang with youse,
that makes me a loser too.

Look, I want a release from my
contract, and I want it now.

I, uh--

I-- I have to think about it.

Oh, well, you
think it over, Nick.

You think it over
real good, huh?

NICK ROYCE
I didn't know what to do.

Joe was really worked up,
but I thought eventually,

he'd come to his senses.

He always did.

Oh, that's just want I need.

NICK ROYCE
My left leg

was so badly mangled
from the accident

that complications set in, and
the doctors had to amputate.

I chose to call it an
accident, because I

refused to believe
that Joe would

do what he did on purpose.

Hey, Nick.

How's it going, buddy?

Well, can't say "don't
have a leg to stand on."

No, you-- you can't say that.

Uh, listen, uh, Nick,
I know this is like--

what-- like, a bad
time, or whatever.

But, em, this really can't wait.

You see, I really
need that release.

That's why you came here?

Oh, hey, Nick.
You know, I--

I'll throw-- I'll throw
some money your way.

You know?

I'll, eh-- hey, I'll--

I'll buy you a leg
or something, huh?

You're gonna buy me a--

get out of my room.

Uh, what about the release?

You can have 10 releases.

I want you out of
my life for good.

Hey, Joey.

I was always funnier than you.

That could have been
something, but I--

Hey, Nick, you can
still be something.

You can be a sit-down comic.

Hey, everybody.

My name's Nick.

I'm the sit-down comic.

So I'm just gonna be sitting
here and chatting with you

folks for a while.

Next
year was an amazing one for me.

After losing my
leg, I finally found

the nerve to face an audience.

I started doing jokes
from the perspective

of man in a wheelchair.

It caught on.

And the clubs
started to book me.

I was a novelty, and I was hot.

I had just finished playing
a mean room in Vegas,

and I had come back to do a
quick benefit at the Grove,

the club where it all began.

But what happened next
was the last thing

I would have ever expected.

Joey?

Hey, Nick.

How you doing?

What happened to you?

I had to get out of
the business, you know?

Every time I'd get on stage,
I'd start to get this really bad

pain in my left leg, you know?

It started to hurt so bad, I--

I couldn't even think
straight, you know,

let alone tell a joke, you know?

So-- anyway, I-- so I--

I had to-- I had to
give it up, you know?

Whoa.

Come on.

Well, hey.

NICK ROYCE
My career really took off.

But the next year, I
bought my own comedy club

and went back to my first love--

helping out young comics.

And Joe?

That pain he had in his
leg was a blood clot.

Three months later, he
had to have it amputated.

What an ironic turn of events.

One man loses a leg
and finds his courage,

while the other loses his
courage and then his leg.

Did overwhelming guilt produce
the blood clot in Joe's leg?

Or was it coincidence?

Or was he being punished
by the gods of comedy?

In analyzing this tale, does
it appear to be a fable?

Or do we really have
a leg to stand on?

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

at the end of our show.

Next, a hotel may be
hiding a shocking secret

on "Beyond Belief--

Fact or Fiction."

Front!

There's nothing more reassuring
than a friendly, efficient

hotel clerk--

somebody who has
your reservation

and quickly provides your
accommodation without a hitch.

Then there's the
other experience.

Your reservation's lost,
the clerk is arrogant,

your trip becomes a nightmare.

Rina Dunne is about to check
into a highly rated hotel.

Before she's
through, she will not

only question the
hotel's service,

but question her own sanity.

My
mother and I had been planning

a Florida vacation for months.

I'd made all the
arrangements in advance.

And I assumed
everything was in order.

I was wrong.

I'm sorry, Ms. Dunne.

You're not in the computer.

How can this be?

I-- I booked these
reservations three months ago.

I showed you my
confirmation number.

I'm afraid it's
not a valid number.

I don't believe this.

They don't have
our reservation?

Don't worry about it, Mom.

I'll take care of it.

How are you feeling?

I feel awful.

I've got such a headache,
and my-- my neck is so stiff.

You go sit down and rest.

Will you please explain
to me how I can not

have a valid
confirmation number, when

it says "confirmed" right here?

I will admit it's possible
that an error was made.

But I'm sorry, we have no rooms.

There's a convention in
town, and we're fully booked.

In fact, every hotel
in town is booked.

Listen, Mr. Mintz.

My mother is not feeling well.

And unless you want a
lawsuit on your hands,

I suggest you find us
another room right now.

You're in luck.

We just had a cancellation.

I can put you in room 245.

It has a king size bed.

We'll take it.

RINA DUNNE
My mother's condition was

getting worse by the minute.

I didn't know what
was happening,

and I was scared for her.

No, no.

No, I don't want it.

Oh, Rina--

I'm right here, Mom.

It's so hot.

It's OK.

Where am I?

What am I doing in this room?

Where's Rina?

Marina was--

I'm here, Mom.

Don't be scared.

Can I get a doctor,
please, to room 245?

As soon as possible, please.

Thank you.

Well, it looks like your
mother has picked up some kind

of bacterial infection.

Is she gonna be all right?

Don't worry.

She's gonna be fine.

I'm going to prescribe
an antibiotic.

It's late, but there's
an all-night pharmacy

that can fill it for you.

Thank you, Dr. Hall.

Thank you, Doctor.

I
hated leaving my mother alone.

But I had no choice.

It took me about 45 minutes to
get to the pharmacy and back.

I needed change
for the cab, so I

put the prescription
bag down on the counter

while Mintz broke a 50 for me.

Here's 20 and 40--

Yes, yes, yes.

Can I help you, ma'am?

Where's the prescription
bag I just left here?

I'm not sure I understand.

I just left a bag here.

When I got change
from you a minute ago.

I'm sorry.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

What?

But I-- I just left it here.

It was medicine for my mother.

We're in room 245.

She's very ill, and
I need that medicine.

245?

No, I'm sorry.

That room is unoccupied.

What?

That's impossible.

You checked us in
there yourself.

My mother is very sick, and--

Ma'am, keep your voice down.

You're upsetting the guests.

Check your computer.

D-U-N-N-E. Rina Dunne.

No, I'm sorry.

You're not registered
at this hotel.

There are many hotels in town.

Perhaps you're just confused.

I-- I am not confused.

Now, you listen
to me, Mr. Mintz.

I don't know what kind
of game you're playing,

but my mother and I are
guests at this hotel.

Dr. Hall.

Would you please
explain to this man

that you examined my
mother up in room 245?

I'm sorry.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

You-- you what?

My mother was very ill.

You-- you said she had
a-- a bacterial infection.

You prescribed an
antibiotic for her.

You must be confusing
me with someone else.

I've never seen you
before in my life.

I
thought I was losing my mind.

Nothing was making sense.

Where are you going, ma'am?

Getting my mother
out of this place.

No.
I can't let you do that.

You can't stop me.

All right.

I'll take you to the room.

I-- I must have left
my key in the room.

We'll use mine.

Mom, I'm--

RINA DUNNE
My head was spinning.

What have you done?

RINA DUNNE
The furniture

in the room was all different.

But the most horrifying part
was that my mother wasn't there.

Wh-- where's my mother?

I told you room
245 is unoccupied.

I
never saw my mother again.

The symptoms suffered
by Rina Dunne's mother

pointed to a rare
case of West Nile

viral encephalitis, a contagious
and often fatal disease.

In years of subsequent lawsuits,
Rina charged that the hotel

manager and the doctor conspired
to cover up the entire episode,

and got rid of
her mother's body,

all so they wouldn't
lose vital business

during their important
convention season?

And what about room 245?

Did Rina imagine
the whole incident?

If so, what happened
to her mother?

Is this mysterious
tale based on fact?

Or has the truth
just checked out?

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 are
inspired by actual events,

and which ones
are totally false.

What about the college student
who seem to channel the spirit

of a deceased student?

Is this a true story?

It's a figment of a
writer's imagination.

How about the story
of a two-year-old

who wrote a message that
saved her mother's life?

Tanya, where did you
learn how to write that?

You don't even
know your alphabet.

You think you've heard
a story like this before?

You might have.

It's true.

According to our
research, a similar story

happened in the southwest
in the mid '70s.

Let's look at the
weather man who seemed

to forecast his own death.

We are not going to escape
the tornadoes that are coming.

That's right, ladies and
gentlemen-- tornadoes.

They are going to come.

They are going to hit us.

They are going to hit us fast.

And they are going
to hit us hard.

Stay tuned.

I'll have more details
later in the newscast.

Is this story true?

Afraid not.

It was written to fool you.

How about the comedian who
found his fame and fortune

after being severely injured?

I want you out of
my life for good.

Hey, Joey.

I was always funnier than you.

I could have been
something, but I--

Hey, Nick.

You can still be something.

You can be a sit-down comic.

Did a similar story
to this one take place?

Could be.

But we made this one up.

Let's have one more look at
the strange story of the woman

and the lost hotel reservation.

But I-- I just left it here.

It was medicine for my mother.

We're in room 245.

She's very ill, and
I need that medicine.

245?

No, I'm sorry.

That room is unoccupied.

What?

Although this story has
been updated for our show,

it's based on fact.

Published reports place a
similar incident in Paris

at the turn of the last century.

Is there really a difference
between truth and reality?

Or are they the same impostors
dressed in different clothing?

And when we speak of the
difference between them,

are we really dealing in a
concept that's beyond belief?

Jonathan Frakes.

Join us next
time for "Beyond Belief--

Fact or "Fiction.

I'm Campbell Lane.