Lot 072 : The M Show Fan Club //…. Everything I Know Is A Dream

Today's episode is sponsored by I Know What You Did Last Summer.

Get it now on digital.

When five friends inadvertently cause a deadly car accident, they cover up their involvement and make a pact to keep it a secret rather than face the consequences.

A year later, their past comes back to haunt them, and they're forced to confront a horrifying truth.

Someone knows what they did last summer, and is hell-bent on revenge.

As one by one, the friends are stalked by a killer.

They discover this happened before, so they turn to two survivors of the legendary Southport massacre of 1997 for help.

Starring Madeline Klein, Chase Sue Wonders, Jonah Hauer King, with Freddie Prince Jr., and Jennifer Love Hewitt.

I know what you did last summer is a perfect summer slasher, says Jordan Cruciolo of NPR.

Your summer is not over yet.

Don't miss a killer movie night at home.

L

Well, hello there, my friend.

I had a feeling you'd wander in today.

I've just brewed a fresh pot of tea.

Black as the depths, of course.

Care for a cup?

Good,

good.

Come closer, then.

The strangest items have found their way to my shelves over the past days.

Of course, I've set two of them aside.

Just for you.

Now, to find the first.

Here it is.

A simple envelope.

Inside,

a folded leaflet.

Its edges just beginning to fray.

Appears to be a...

Welcome message introducing the recipient to something called

the M Show Fan Club.

A harmless club for a children's television show, no doubt.

Yet,

the air about it...

rather peculiar, wouldn't you say?

Mostly because of this membership card.

The name etched on it

changes,

depending on who's holding it.

Curious.

Ah,

but I mustn't spoil the fun.

This particular tale is called

the M Show Fan Club.

Let's get you signed up.

Before we begin, I want to point out some of the customers whose names have been etched in brass on this beautiful plaque I had made above the front desk.

These are some of the members of the inner circle of the antiquarium.

We go by the Obsidian Covenant.

Recent initiates include include Ryan Dutchman,

Janice,

Jason Carmichael, Deja Arnold,

Christy Bashirs, Lauren Carraway,

Olaf Luckstaff,

Dolly Marie,

and Jeremy Richmond.

We are ever appreciative of your devotion to the Order.

Go to theObsidian

to receive the sacrament.

Now,

where were we?

Oh, yes,

welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings

and odd goings-on.

When I was nine years old, I had a favorite TV series.

It had human actors and actors in animal suits and funny educational clips in between.

I don't want to name it because it was a really good show and this story is not at all a fault of the show.

I'll just call it the M Show.

The M Show was running for years and I had been watching it for as long as I can remember.

I always sat down straight after school with my older sister Scarlett and my best friend Brandy who lived next door.

It It was our ritual.

Every day the three of us sat together with sweets if our moms allowed it or apples or grapes.

And in the breaks of the show we talked and gossiped about all those important issues in our lives.

Then

I remember it was a warm summer Friday.

Scarlett found a prize competition in one of her girl magazines.

It asked questions about the show.

The first prize was a trip to Disney World with your parents.

Even better, everybody who sent in the correct answers would become a member of the M Show Club, a fan club for the show.

The same day after watching the M Show, the three of us huddled together on the couch to answer the quiz.

The questions were very hard.

They asked details about old episodes of the show, and without Scarlett branding, I never would have managed to answer all those questions.

Scarlett begged our mom for stamps and envelopes, and we filled the three envelopes each with a paper with our names and contact details and the answers to the questions.

Scarlett even told us to vary our answers slightly so that we wouldn't be called out for cheating.

The letters were sent off, and every day we all rushed to the mailbox to get our The M M Show Club badges.

When the first snow began to fall, we stopped checking the mailbox.

Brandy was still passionate about the show and watched it every day, but Scarlett lost interest.

When Scarlett stopped watching, I too began to skip the show.

Brandy still came over, but she was the only one watching.

I sat next to her while working my way through Scarlett's old girl magazines.

It was early spring.

I remember there were tulips in our garden and my mom reprimanded me for plucking two to decorate the kitchen table.

But, right after her lecture, she gave me a small square letter with my name printed on it.

The back said,

Welcome to the M-Show fan club.

There was not much in the envelope, only a short leaflet that welcomed me to the club, and a small ID card with my name on it, a big logo of the show, and in black letters, the M Show Fan Club, and in the line below, in big black letters, the word member.

Brandy got her envelope the same day.

She was glowing with happiness.

Scarlett was jealous at first, but two days later, she got her envelope too.

From then on, every Friday, each of us received a leaflet about the show with photos and anecdotes and background information on the characters.

Occasionally, the leaflets also called on the club members to promote the show and to watch out for the M Show tour.

We loved the show afterwards.

I think from that day on, after I proudly stuffed the membership card in my bag, I didn't miss a single episode.

Then, in mid-June, we all got two leaflets.

The first one was the usual one with facts and photos, but the second was an ad.

The bus was coming the next Sunday to our town.

We were all allowed to go.

We were beyond excited.

The leaflet didn't have much information, and that was before we had a computer at home.

The tour bus would arrive at 1 p.m.

and the main characters of the show would be there to welcome everybody and play games with us.

Those that participated in at least four games would be upgraded to elite member status and receive a new golden membership card.

Those nine days of waiting for the M Show tour were some of the longest in my life.

Brandy and Scarlett and I had planned every day how we would take photos with each of the characters and then play games with them.

I secretly dreamed of beating Scarlett at the knowledge game where our knowledge about the show would be tested.

On Saturday, Scarlett went to a birthday sleepover at one of her friends' houses.

The parents were supposed to bring Scarlett back by 12 on Sunday.

Around 12:30, Brandy came running to our house.

She knocked on the back door like she always did, and I let her in.

Brandy was beyond excited.

Her mom had volunteered to accompany the three of us, and she wanted to go early so that we wouldn't miss anything.

My mom called the house of Scarlett's friend, but they didn't pick up their phone.

She said that Scarlett would be home soon, early enough to go on time.

At 12.45, Brandy's mother came over.

She said that we would have to leave so that the cues wouldn't be too long.

My mom said we should wait for Scarlett, but Brandy threw a tantrum.

She was scared that she wouldn't be able to hug all the characters if we came late.

Brandy's mom decided to drive.

I wanted to come along, but my mother said that she would drive Scarlett and me.

I felt like I was being punished for Scarlett's being late.

I begged.

I cried.

Nothing helped.

Brandy went alone.

Her friend's parents dropped Scarlett off at 1.40.

My mom said if I made a scene, we wouldn't go at all.

I relented.

We arrived around 20 minutes later, at the big parking lot where the bus was scheduled to stop.

We saw the crowds from from the distance, parked the car, and walked over.

I asked my mom where the characters of the show were.

She said that they were just behind the crowd.

They all held the M-Show Tour flyers, but it looked as if the crowd were mostly parents.

They stood in a half circle towards the edge of the parking lot.

Some of them looked concerned, but most of them were laughing and talking.

My mom spotted Brandy's mother at the other end of the half circle.

We walked over to her.

Brandy's mother was one of the worried ones.

She told us that the bus had been there together with all the animal figures from the M Show.

They had a large bus with the M Show logo and they handed out sweets.

One of the animal figures had explained to the parents that they built a set outside of town where we could all make our own short film with the characters of the show.

They said they would drive everybody there.

They took the children first.

They were all so excited that few parents objected.

Still, three or four parents came along, and that calmed the rest.

The next bus was supposed to arrive within a few minutes to bring everyone to the set.

When I heard that, I was excited like never before.

I ran to the street to look around so I could be the first on on the bus.

Scarlett followed me.

I didn't see the worried expression when Brandy's mother talked to mine.

I didn't understand why the police came not even an hour later.

In Monday's episode of The M Show, one of the characters came on stage and told us to call our parents to watch the show.

Our mom was already sitting with Scarlett and me.

The character said that the M show

didn't have a fan club.

That week, Brandy's parents cried a lot.

I was still sure that Brandy was okay.

I thought she just had so much fun that she didn't want to come back.

She must have had a lot of fun.

She never came back.

Brandy's mother cried even more that Friday when the small parcel arrived.

There was a new M Show fan club membership card for Brandy.

It was golden and said elite member in big bold letters.

The parcel also contained a video.

It was only a minute long.

She was wearing the same dress as she was when she came over to our house that Sunday morning.

On the video, Brandy was smiling.

An actor in a big animal suit stood next to her silently.

Hi, Mom.

I really like it here.

I really wish you could be here.

Too bad the others were late.

I'm sure they would have loved it, too.

Today's episode is sponsored by I Know What You Did Last Summer.

Get it now on digital.

When five friends inadvertently cause a deadly car accident, they cover up their involvement and make a pact to keep it a secret rather than face the consequences.

A year later, their past comes back to haunt them, and they're forced to confront a horrifying truth.

Someone knows what they did last summer and is hell-bent on revenge.

As one by one, the friends are stalked by a killer, they discover this happened before, so they turn to two survivors of the legendary Southport massacre of 1997 for help.

Starring Madeline Klein, Chase Sue Wonders, Jonah Howard King with Freddie Prince Jr., and Jennifer Love Hewitt.

I know what you did last summer is a perfect summer slasher, says Jordan Crucciolo of NPR.

Your summer is not over yet.

Don't miss a killer movie night at home.

Why, hello there.

You've reached the antiquarium.

If you wish to leave a message, please do so with the town and have a great day.

Uh uh hi.

Um

I uh had an appointment at the antiquarium, or I'm I thought I had an appointment, um but I'm standing outside your shop.

Well, okay, I'm standing outside where your shop is supposed to be

and uh it's is this an alley?

Um

a long, dark alley in between two other shops, and

at the end of the alley, there's this group of hooded figures who are

chanting.

Okay, now one of the figures is beckoning at me to come over there.

You know, I'm just gonna come back during regular business hours.

Thanks.

End of messages.

That took a rather menacing

This, my dear friend, is something quite...

special.

A wheelchair.

The leather seat has softened over time.

The metal frame gleams faintly as if reluctant to surrender its past.

It was used once in the recovery of a young man.

A young man who suffered a terrible accident.

He spent months confined to this very chair.

Let's admit, you two.

I've come to terms with the fact that everything I know is a dream.

As a preface, please note that this will probably be very long.

I don't care if nobody reads it.

Everyone in the world could read it.

Nothing would change.

I just need to voice my concerns for my own sake.

Perhaps by organizing everything on a page, I can make sense of things.

Several years ago, I was in a brutal car accident.

I was parked in front of a train track, waiting for the train to pass by.

I was the last person not to make it across the tracks.

For visualization, there was a solid stream of cars on either side.

If I had tried to sneak across, I would have rear-ended the person in front of me before successfully clearing them.

I could hear the train approaching, and the black and yellow bars lowered in front of me.

I'm fascinated by trains, so I was delighted to be so close, finally getting a front row seat.

The train was about a quarter mile from the crossing when the driver behind me accelerated and nudged me forward a few feet.

The bars bent and eventually snapped, and I was knocked joltingly onto the tracks.

I panicked and threw the car into reverse, trying to back out.

The other car apparently had more horsepower, however, and to my horror, my car door aligned perfectly with the cattle guard in the front of the train.

I scrambled to get out of the car, but forgot about my seatbelt.

I nearly strangled myself trying to get free.

By the time I unlatched it, it was too late.

One fraction of a second of the loudest sound I had ever heard, and then

blackness

and silence.

I was certain that I had died.

I didn't feel any pain.

And certainly, if I had survived, I'd be in agony.

I tried to open my eyes, but nothing would happen.

I tried to make a sound, to wiggle my fingers or do anything, but I couldn't.

It wasn't that I was paralyzed.

It was more like I didn't have a body to manipulate.

I was just a mind submerged in a pool of nothing.

The only sentiment I felt was that I had returned to that state after being gone for a long time.

Forgetting how your parents' house smells until you visit home for the holidays.

Gradually, I started to have feelings of sensation.

Passing waves of warmth and wetness finally allowed me to determine where the edges of my body were.

Almost as soon as I became aware of my physical self, it began to ache.

I felt as if every inch of me me had been pummeled with a baseball bat, the heavy wooden kind.

Even opening my eyes was a spectacular ordeal.

I was in a hospital, so I had survived after all.

People moved to surround me.

Faces that never fully came into focus hovered above my own, and sounds that vaguely resembled speech seemed to reach me through water.

It wasn't long before I felt weak again and my eyes closed.

This fading in and out of consciousness lasted for what felt like a very long time, maybe months, though the doctors told me it was only a matter of days.

After that, I worked on speaking and swallowing food, which seemed silly, but it was actually a challenge at the time.

Finally, as more and more casts were removed, I was allowed to sit up and turn my head, for which I was incredibly grateful.

According to my family and my then-girlfriend Sarah, all of whom were overjoyed at being able to speak with me, I was asleep for several days on end after the crash.

I remember Sarah specifically saying she had missed being able to stare at those beautiful eyes.

Time passed at an excruciatingly slow pace.

until physical therapy finally escalated to the point where I could be pushed around in a wheelchair.

The doctors were surprisingly hopeful that I'd be able to walk again, but it was what they called cautious optimism.

Nobody wanted to tell me I could be independent again and then have to admit they were wrong later.

Obviously, I was very hopeful myself, though even transferring from chair to bed was a painful challenge.

It was around this time that I noticed I never dreamed anymore.

When I slept, I only felt the same nothingness that I felt immediately after the crash.

All the days blended together for a while after that.

The next memory I can actually separate from the rest is the first time I tried walking on my own.

There were staff members holding onto my arms and waist just in case I fell, and with their help, I made it all the way across the room on my first try.

The doctors said they had never seen such a rapid recovery.

I was giddy.

Obviously, I wasn't out of the woods yet, but soon I was allowed to live at home again with frequent PT sessions.

And some weeks after that, I returned to work.

Life was almost normal for a while.

Except for a very slight limp in my left leg, the side that the train hit me on, I was feeling pretty normal.

It was only after about a month of living in my own house that weird things started to happen.

The first thing I noticed was that I felt an occasional stinging on my right forearm, like a thin needle was puncturing my skin.

It was a tiny prick, maybe twice a day at most.

I figured it was just nerve trauma or something and blocked it from my mind.

Feigning ignorance was harder to do when I started hearing things, though.

While I was reading in bed one night, I thought I heard Sarah crying.

I strained my ears to make sure, and I definitely heard her sobs, but very distantly, like I was submerged in a pool.

I made my way downstairs quickly, concerned that she had hurt herself or something, but she was just washing dishes in the kitchen.

Are you okay?

Yeah,

why?

No reason.

I dismissed these oddities as best I could.

After all, how could anyone expect to recover from being hit by a goddamn train without some lingering effects?

Every so often, mostly when I was trying to fall asleep or sitting in a silent room, I would hear occasional sounds that I couldn't connect at first.

Gradually, I determined that they were hospital sounds.

Stretchers being rolled across tiled floors, beeping from machines, rapid chatter between nurses and doctors.

Although I figured anyone who had suffered as much trauma as I had would experience some degree of whatever I was experiencing,

I decided to bring it up with my doctor.

He told me it was perfectly normal for someone in my circumstances, and he could prescribe me a sleep aid if I felt it was necessary.

I told him it wasn't a big deal.

I was just satisfied that a doctor could explain my symptoms.

The odd glimpses of what seemed to be my past only increased in frequency.

When I slept, I finally dreamed again, but it was always the same thing.

If I saw anything at all, it was a hospital room.

Sometimes there were other people in the room, and sometimes I was alone with the machines.

There was one night in particular in which the dream was more vivid and gripping than usual.

My eyes opened warily to see Sarah asleep on the chair beside my hospital bed.

Sarah, she jerked awake.

Henry!

She scrambled to my side, clutching my hand.

At this point, it occurred to me that I was dreaming.

I stared right into Sarah's eyes.

I'm asleep right now.

She seemed concerned.

Oh, Henry, you're finally awake.

I'm right here.

It's been so long.

Of course, you would say that.

You're part of my dream.

I'll probably wake up any second.

As I spoke, the familiar soreness caught up to me all at once.

It practically knocked the wind from my lungs.

Henry, no!

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

I shook my head defiantly and closed my eyes.

When I opened them, I was back in my own bed.

It was about three in the morning.

I sat awake, pondering what I had just seen.

I thought I heard Sarah crying again, even though I could see her sleeping beside me.

When Sarah finally woke up, she rolled over and laid an arm across my chest.

She smiled groggily.

Good morning, big guy.

Hey, um,

if I was asleep asleep right now,

would you tell me?

What?

That's kind of heavy stuff to drop on a sleepy person.

Just

bear with me.

If I was asleep right now, like dreaming, you know,

would you tell me?

Well,

I feel pretty real.

Do you think I'm not real?

Of course not.

We got ready for our day.

I couldn't stop thinking about my dream, though.

I noticed that when I tried really hard to space out at work and listened closely enough,

I could hear the hospital sounds more clearly.

I was naturally concerned about this.

That night, I went to bed early.

And just as I thought, I was transported immediately to the hospital bed.

I felt the thin sheets beneath my fingers.

I opened my eyes, and Sarah was reading a book in the same chair as before.

I just looked at her for a long time, trying to discern if she was real.

She certainly seemed real enough.

She turned pages with the same flourish that she always had and chewed on one of the temples of her reading glasses.

Eventually, she looked up and met my eyes.

You're awake again.

Victoria!

Paul,

My parents entered the room moments later, looking excited.

I talked with them all for a long time.

Of course, my parents too denied the fact that I was asleep, but that topic passed quickly.

Instead, we discussed my condition.

I had been in a coma for almost three months with little response.

They had been slowly losing hope for my recovery until my brain showed signs of activity.

Since that time, they had been visiting me frequently, hoping that I would wake up.

It seemed a pretty convincing story.

After many hours of talking, I had to stop.

I was legitimately sleepy.

Of course, they all understood and I fell back asleep.

Only this time, I didn't wake up in my own bed.

I woke up in the same hospital bed a few hours later.

I had to think about it for a very long time.

But eventually concluded that I must have imagined my miraculous recovery and had been in a coma the whole time after all.

As you can imagine, it was hard to accept at first.

Since then, I've been making a second recovery, which has been slower and less successful than the first.

That's why for a long time I was mostly convinced that I'm really awake this time.

Nobody walks after getting blindsided by a train, at least not without lots of hard work.

I've still only left my wheelchair on crutches, and it's been six years.

It probably sounds like a bittersweet ending, and at one point I agreed.

I was prepared to live happily ever after in my wheelchair and maybe even graduate to crutches someday, except for one thing.

When I'm getting ready for bed, after I turn off my lamp and my head hits the pillow, I can still hear them.

The faint sounds of a busy hospital.

I know that many of you will say, but I'm real.

This is real life.

Of course, you're awake,

but that's what you're supposed to say.

Nobody's going to tell me,

I'm fake, you're dreaming.

Wake up.

I'm still asleep, and I've learned to deal with it.

I know that nobody I meet during the day is real.

But I'm tired.

So I just pretend.

and that

will have to do.

J W

M C Q N B C J

A B

X O Q N J

E N

W

O N U U D W

C

X C, Q, N,

N, J, A, C, Q.

Thank you for your patronage.

Hope you enjoyed your new relic as much as I've enjoyed passing along its sordid history.

It does come with our usual warning, however.

Absolutely no refunds.

No exchanges, and we won't be held liable for anything that may or may not occur while the object is in your possession.

If you've got an artifact with mysterious properties, perhaps it's accompanied by a history of bizarre and disturbing circumstances, maybe you'd be interested in dropping it and its story by the shop to share with other customers.

Please reach out to antiquariumshop at gmail.com.

A member of our team will be touch.

Till next time, we'll be waiting for you whenever you close your eyes

in the space between sleep and dream

during regular business hours, of course, or by appointment, only for you,

our

best customer.

You have a good night now.

The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings, Lot 072.

I've come to terms with the fact that everything I know is a dream.

Written by Tia Fwans, starring Jared Rivet, featuring Dee Quintero as Sarah.

The M-Show Fan Club, written by Lena Lona, narrated by Mig Windows, starring Jade Shand as Brandy, featuring Stephen Knowles as the antique dealer.

Engineering production and sound design by Trevor Shand.

Theme music by the Newton Brothers.

Additional music by COAG and Vivek Abishek.

The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings is created and curated by Trevor and Lauren Shand.

Follow us on Instagram and Twitter at Antiquarium Pod.

Call the Antiquarium at 646-481-7197.

Hello and welcome to the world of Scare You to Sleep.

I'm your host, Shelby Novak, a show for those of us who need something a little stronger than counting sheep, who find horror to be a strangely relaxing escape.

Here you'll find a myriad of fright-filled tales, from fictional to true stories, to high strangeness to guided nightmares, where I take you on a journey through your own personal nightmare.

So come get lost in the terror with me.

Listen to Scare You to Sleep, wherever you listen to podcasts, sweet screams.