 Lost media is a popular topic of interest, with often the most mundane of shows or commercials targeting any age group, suddenly taking on an aura of mystery, or sometimes even the specter of a curse. Online sleuths seek the reason that an episode went missing, as much as they try and find the absent media itself. Taboo content, film vault fires, on set accidents, the death of a cast member, copyright and licensing issues, or a bad reception, can all result in the disappearance of artistic content. Other times, it's all from a simple mistake, such as a misplaced master file, or an unplanned deletion of backups. Media hunters have pulled off some miracles over the years, managing to dig up digital copies of things long thought loss in the deepest recesses of the internet, or someone's personal collection of old VHS tapes. There are cases where an anonymous uploader supplies a highly sought after video file that only they had access to, because they worked in or with the studio that produced the web's latest hot disappeared item, regardless of how old the media is. It's kind of amazing to me, how people manage to discover just what is missing in the first place. There are so many obscure shows adrift in the world, just as there are obscure episodes of popular shows. Yet titles fill up a bulk of lost media, partly since they get coupled with those fuzzy childhood memories that make some of us confuse the late night tibiality with an adolescent fever dream. I'm aware of an episode of a show that I don't think will ever be found, and hasn't been talked about anywhere in all of my online searches. I didn't want to be the one to call attention to it, but this doesn't deserve to be forgotten, and at this point, I believe it's up to me to call attention to it. In 2006, I had just gotten my degree in telecommunications, and I was looking to get my start locally, right where I grew up in the Quad Cities area of the States. An old family friend got me a post-grad summer job, while I began my search for a career. Temporary stuff, but paid. In a region with multiple cities close to each other, we had a number of public access to the channels to check out when the rest of the cable offerings failed our entertainment needs. I never took community television seriously, usually spending no more than a few seconds on them while channel surfing, and then moving on to the mainstream networks that used cameras actually made in this century. At most, they were good for a few minutes of riffing at drunken parties back at college. So, it wasn't an exciting prospect, that I would be working for a couple months at a small, rundown studio, that was shooting one of these public access shows. It was readily available, and I'd make a few hundred bucks from it, and get in some experience right after school. On the other hand, it wouldn't even really take advantage of my degree. I wasn't working on the actual show in any way, but rather, I'd just be taking photographs for posterity and publicity. Photography had always been a side hobby of mine, not a main pursuit. Regardless, this family friend told me that the show creator was looking for someone who still shot in black and white, on film, which I was all about. They wanted something classic and timeless, that was printed professionally and would hopefully translate to investors or executives taking the show seriously. Digital cameras were still fairly new and low resolution back then, anyway, it wasn't as if photographers like me were hard to find. On my first day at work, I was actually almost impressed. Sure, the studio itself was in a poor part of town, and was within an old renovated warehouse that had a weirdly lingering smell. But the set was surprisingly not bad. It was elaborate, and had plenty of props. Nothing spectacular, we aren't quite talking network television quality, but it definitely had the appearance of a bootstrap production with some funding behind it. Me being basically a contract worker with only a secondary connection to the show, I was always on the outside of things, and liked first hand accounts of how it got started and the progression of it. I was only ever brought in on the first day that each episode was taping, so I was limited to seeing just about the end every work cycle. Any editing was done quickly, as I remember seeing the premiere only a couple months after coming in to shoot the set, cast members, and then sticking around for the rest of the day and getting to see what scenes were getting shot. I didn't come back to see an episode's filming rep, but since it was a speedy process, I'd see about a third or so of an entire episode filmed on each of my three visits. My brief time there gave me a good idea of the script, plot, and general vibe of the production. The set design was centered around an underground bunker of some kind. Clean post-apocalypse chic, I'd call it. Think of a concrete nuclear survival bunker, but with a lot of fun, colorful, nonsensical props and tools for the characters to interact with, or I can be for the viewer. First thing I thought of when I saw it, was if Peewee's playhouse had taken place underground. The five cast members were all on set when I arrived, and started taking snapshots of them going through the latest script revisions. They consisted of two women and three men, with one of the guys on puppeteer duty inside an intricate robot costume. The teen man looked like a friendlier terminator cyborg. They also wore a black robe with colorful frills on his metal exterior, suggesting he was a professor of some kind. A robot would make a good educator in a fallen world, I suppose, being able to retain all that knowledge and teach tirelessly. While my knowledge of the show was limited, while I was taking production steals, it was easy enough to glean from what I did see to figure out the rest of the characters. The youngest man, who looked fresh out of college like myself, played the young hero of the show, a boy named Polly, who wanted to go on adventures, and of course, often got in trouble. But he always pulled through at the end with his boundless enthusiasm made a broken world. His little sister Eunice was played by one of those smaller girls who can get away with portraying a child up into her late twenties. She was cheerful and bright, but scared easily from the monsters in rubber suits that patrolled the cavernous underground of the show's world. At least, that was her character. The actress, who was older than the guy playing her big brother by a few years, actually swore like a sailor, complained about everything, and always took a smoke break out back during downtime, no matter how hot it was out there. A good actor though. She could turn back into her bubbly character with the smack of the clapboard. The adult characters, who had no relation to each other or the kids, acted like their guardians. Alton was the grumpy utility worker who always showed up to fix things, including problems, and spent most of his off-screen time down in the bunker's power plant, helping to keep the power on. He had a gruff exterior, but was reliable and played the part of the old dude there, to dispense wisdom and lessons. His character also spouted off old-timey catchphrases you've heard a hundred times. A bit too dimensional, but the actor played the part well, and much attention was paid to his dirty overalls costume. Each time he'd show up, he'd have a new stain on his clothes from who knows what. Judy was the engineering nerd and scientist, and the cause of each episodic adventure. Of the three stories that made it to air, the stories always began with some discovery she made about the great underground, which was followed by a misunderstanding by the kids who would then go off to try and prove that they were grown up. At the end of each story, they would learn a lesson given out by the patient and understanding Judy, who would also manage to mix in a message about both responsibility and the scientific process. Roll credits. And in the next ep, it's as if the kids have learned nothing, and make the same mistakes all over again by trying to do things without asking an adult for help. The lessons and messages were all over the place, but I'm sure they would have tightened up by theoretical second season. Director and background characters were played by members of the crew, put into an assortment of extra outfits that looked like they were stolen from one of the local community theaters. Given that only six people worked behind the camera, at least that I saw while I was there, I think the director and creator would have had to start inviting people off the street to expand the cast variety after a few episodes. Or even hire more actors, because based off of the few interactions I had with him, the guy seemed pretty loaded. Bernard Schmidt enjoyed fancy suits, nice shoes, cigars, and keeping his thin and gray hair styled. I'll be using his real name here, because screw him. I still have no idea where he had come from, or how he had got in his cash. He didn't strike me as old money. More like a poser, trying hard to fit in by throwing his new found cash at everything. He struck me as constantly nervous, like someone who would be looking over his shoulder all the time, if it weren't for the fact that he was working closely with about a dozen people. A director is supposed to exude confidence over his project. If he looked worried, you're going to get bad results from everyone else. As the mostly ignored set photographer, I probably got a more candid look at Schmidt than anyone else. I couldn't be sure, and he did a good job at hiding the accent, but I came to believe while working under him, that he was from somewhere in Eastern Europe. Not that I had a problem with him, coming here to try and live out the American dream in fast forward. But it might have explained some of eccentricities. He was a perfectionist on set, though always anxious. Yet I didn't see him get hostile or rude with his crew and cast. He lacked some common manners and courtesy, but didn't get angry with mistakes and let the actors try all the takes they needed. Still, by the end of this story, you'll hate him as much as I do. All right, young lady. I remember him saying, when we first met in person shortly before the first scenes were shot. I want you to get some really professional looking photos today. When we have 100 episodes and get syndicated, and there's a movie deal in the works, I want to show all of our fans how we started. We're selling a success story here. Understand? Bernard was tenacious, trying to brute force his way into stardom, even while clearly not being very good with his money. His need to become famous with a beloved show rate of desperation. In the end, he was either scared of the people out to get him, or had thrown away his morality and was ready to do anything to succeed. Sad thing is, he would have been laughed out of Hollywood as soon as he stepped foot there if ever actually given the chance. My time at the studio was both brief and strange, giving me memories of an explainable behavior from the creator and ominous vibes from the entire production, but also a few good moments with the colorful cast. I'm glad I got to meet them and learn about how they had arrived at this show and where they planned to go next. All of them honestly had some talent and a shot at bigger projects. Trying to build up my connections to people that might be in the bees for years to come, I got all of their contact information. Doing so made writing this story and my own investigation possible much later on. Spaceship Earth debuted in October 2006, right as the mainstream shows were getting into their fall seasons. Since it was on public access, it was barely advertised, and it was hard just to get a solid answer on the schedule with it being bumped around before airing for the first time. Then again, having no idea when to air a show may be par for the course with community-driven TV. I resorted to watching the right channel four hours after dinner, just to make sure I wouldn't miss the airing. And I set my VCR to record it, in case reruns never happened. I was really only curious to find out what the show was actually about. The scenes I saw being shot were heavy on exposition, and I hadn't gotten the chance to see the title screen while I did my small part for the production. If the first episode sucked, I didn't plan on watching the rest. The premise of Spaceship Earth tracks pretty close to its fairly an original title, though it is oddly somewhat dark for the age group I assume it was targeting. Something happens to the sun's gravity, and the earth is ejected from orbit. Fortunately for humanity, the change took time, and scientists realized what was happening early on, so preparations could be made. The 30-second long opening titles, a fully hand-drawn flash animation that looked like it was made over the course of a weekend by college students, summed up the backstory pretty well. Earth was leaving the solar system and headed out into space, so people built a massive network of underground cities connected by train. Earth would eventually be captured by another star in a few thousand years, but until then, everyone would have to stay warm down below, where ancient monsters lurk. The characters come around a hundred years later, and now the surface was a dark wasteland with cities frozen in time. The sun was only again dot in a twilight sky, but still the brightest star. I got a feeling for what the show was going for while working there, but seeing the first episode in full confirmed it for me. It was one of those rare shows that was for twins and young teens that had a dark edge to it, while being semi-educational along the way, a method of reaching an audience going through the pains of adolescence who might have been too angsty to take lessons or advice from cute talking cartoon animals anymore, but could maybe still accept watching a funcast trying to make the best of a cold and utilitarian world. Hell, I think I would have enjoyed it in my own early high school years. The characters were called back to the Bidon days of Saturday morning cartoons, Chipper Heroes. Only they had been dropped into a gloomy world where survival had become a struggle and luxuries were a thing of the past. In the second episode, they even ventured up to the cold surface to find an old earth tool that their city's ancestors had forgotten to bring down, just so a washing machine can be fixed. And those scenes were filmed in a completely different location that I hadn't gotten the chance to see. The actor's breath was visible and their shivers seemed genuine, but it wasn't as if they could have filmed outside in the summer to get the authenticity. Either the warehouse's AC could be turned down really low or Bernard had found an industrial freezer for those scenes. In the third episode, the wastes are visited again after Eunice has a lousy birthday party and runs off to the surface, leaving Paulie to find her, which ends the episode with a tearful reunion and a lesson about temperament. Long after I saw all three episodes, I started searching on the internet for information about it every now and then. As far as I know, reruns did air for a year or so, but it never got picked up by any of the networks or cable channels, which I thought was a shame because regardless of however Mr. Schmick got his money, he was clearly passionate about the project and the cast seemed to enjoy themselves from what I saw. It really could have gone somewhere. Other than an occasional thought around whether or not there was another batch of episodes that got made, but never aired, I stopped thinking about the show and time moved on. Its appearances on TV ended and while there was a small fan base around Spaceship Earth for a while, none of the websites about it seemed to be around anymore. Like most every other public access show, it faded into obscurity, even despite its bigger than usual budget. And then something happened in 2020. I had moved to California, got in my selfish career as a producer of independent films you've likely never heard of, found a loving boyfriend and have a kid on the way. My first real job was in the distant past and details were being lost in the thought of time. While I was cleaning out some boxes in our small apartment, my old book of contacts dropped onto the floor. My first thought was, how quaint, scribbles for the few dozen people I knew way back, my moderate smartphone having about a hundred contacts. But on the very first page of the book was the list of cast members from the first show I worked on and it all came flooding back. I had to set an urge to finally try and find out what had happened to all of them and see whether or not any of them made it big. Just for the hell of it, before the idea no longer interested me and I forgot about it again. What followed were several months of intense conversations over email and messaging services and some disturbing research on my part. I was sucked down a nightmarish rabbit hole where things only ever got worse. I tried all of the phone numbers and email addresses I had written down for the cast, each of them 14 years old at least. Only one went through and got me a response, Polly's old hotmail account. However, by convincing him to help me learn what happened, he reluctantly shared the current contact information for the others. And yes, I'll call him Polly. Since I'm going to conceal their real names anyway here, though they are all listed in the credits, I figured I'd keep things simple and just use everyone's character names. I'm editing all of the written responses I've had with the cast so that only the important details are in this story. The following is taken from many conversations, often spaced apart by weeks. I'm leaving out my replies as they aren't interesting. I mostly just ask the obvious questions, mixed in with a few holy shits when reacting to the more insane parts of this demented incident. Right. In the order I talked with each of the cast, here we go. Yes, now I remember you, the photographer. You were young and still had stars in your eyes back then. If I'm recalling this right, I don't think you ever stuck around to see the latter half of each episode being filmed. Well, I'm glad you're doing okay. It sounds like you're finding some success out there in Hollywood. But to be honest, I wouldn't pursue this. Please, don't worry about what happened on Spaceship Earth. I know that any normal person is only going to get more curious when someone tells them this stuff. I get that, but I really recommend not looking into anything and moving on with your life. Figured you wouldn't let this go. All right, fine. I'll tell you what I know, but it isn't much. I was kind of isolated more than the others about the whole thing. I didn't see everything they did, thank God. But they've told me, and we keep in touch. Kind of as a very exclusive online support group. I was spared the worst of it, but just being aware of what happened to the others makes it hard to sleep at night. Even all these years later, you didn't see it, but Schmidt was a sick bastard. I don't know if he was always that way or carried the potential to become one all his life. That show was supposed to be a launching pad for my career, but I gave it all up after that and changed my pursuits entirely. I play black metal now with an indie band up here in Seattle. Good have guessed, right? Little Polly, the great explorer of the icy world. Always a smile on his rosy face, even if he's phrasing to death. Grow up to shred a guitar and slice open his fingers on steel strings. It would make sense if you knew what I went through, even if it wasn't the worst of it. To be fair, the first episode was pretty fun to make. I had my first post high school crush on Eunice, and Walton was like the grandpa I never got to know. Guy was patient and friendly, full of life wisdom. He shouldn't have been forced to see what he did. The set was great, partly because we worked together to make it. Schmidt had a carpenter for the sets and a painter for the scenery backdrops, but no one in charge of props, so we made a lot of that biker ourselves. Filled it with old toys, spray-painted broken appliances to give them that post-apocalyptic grunge and rust. But whenever you, an outsider and the closest we had to a PR rep, left after that first day, Schmidt changed. He was quick to anger and started rushing us along. He suddenly wanted shots done in one take, and he didn't like any improvisation, but not because he was dedicated to his script. He just hated to waste time on it. It was a big change in attitude, but it didn't get too bad until we started shooting the second episode. By the third, he was a tyrant. We have no idea where he got his money, but we are certain he was beholden to some third party because of it. He brought dangerous debts onto the production, all because of his vendetta against other production companies that had run and belittled him, laughed off his ideas because he was a nobody with a funny accent and no experience. Think of a slightly more talented Tommy Wiseau, but without the charm. For me, the worst it ever got was when we were shooting the last scenes for the third episode. Bernie had been particularly ornery those final few days, especially while we were off raising our asses off for the surface scenes. Man, I hated that place. It made me glad that I wouldn't have to go in there again after things fell apart. There we were, shivering away and more concerned with our body warmth than getting our lines right or working on the perfect surprise faces for the big moment where I find Eunice building a snowman and he's yelling at us. I mean, at least I got to hug her. That was nice. But I was not looking forward to shooting episode four, which Bernie said we'd be doing the next weekend at a special time. I'd rather not get into that. Wait, you never saw the freezer? Ha, makes sense he didn't want any production stills taken in there, couldn't let it get out where we were shooting or what he was putting his actors through for the sake of authenticity. He didn't even want to wait for winter and have us do the surface scenes at dusk or something. It would have been warmer outside than in that ice box he stuck us in. Prick, I take it, you also didn't know about the studio itself. You keep calling it a warehouse, but it was actually a meat packing plant he somehow rented out. That explains the stink in the air and why there was a giant freezer, doesn't it? Yeah, just imagine the documentary that he wanted to put out eventually with your photos. Here's the original cast in the early days of Spaceship Earth, which was shot in a slaughterhouse. Not the best publicity, is it? Or maybe it actually would have helped the show. Who knows? People are weird. Since you keep asking, I racked my brain and did my best to remember just what he was so pissed off about that last day of shooting. I know he had recently found out that the show was given the 10 p.m. Wednesday night slot months from then. He wasn't happy about that. Wasn't even grateful that the channel would be showing it at all. He went on about how no one would see it, but it could have been worse. We could have been on at two in the morning. Looking back, I think my mind blot out most of what happened and he actually had a total meltdown between the takes. He kept telling about scheduling and what they'll do to him if the show doesn't make it big. He never elaborated about who they were, but he was clearly afraid of them. But like, how the hell was he expecting to even pay these people back in the first place from a public access show? Merchandise sales? I don't think he fully understood just how long it can take to get a show to air either, even one that's easy to produce. If he was on a time limit to pay what he owed, he should have chosen a line of business with faster results. Okay, I'll give you one more thing, but please don't bother me anymore afterwards. These last weeks of talking to you have been bringing up some hard memories. I'm not going to tell you what happened on the supposed episode four, because I wasn't there and I don't want to pass the story around second hand. You'll have to try and convince one of the others to let you in on it. It's not going to be me, but I'll give you the contact info for Eunice. If you ever expect her to respond, approach her as politely as you can through email and try to convince her that you aren't with the press. The last time I was in that building was when I went there late at night, the day before episode four was going to start shooting. The circumstances were strange, but so were a lot of other things about the production. So maybe I didn't question it as much as I should have. Schmidt had me come in and set up cameras inside the freezer. I asked why he couldn't just have the crew or cinematographer do it, and he, in so many words, told me that I knew the most about technology out of everyone in the cast and the crew was actually getting paid more than us actors. I just thought he was cutting corners. Either way, he had already made me drive out there by myself, so I just did as he asked as quickly as I could. It makes sense to me now, the real reason he had me do it. I wouldn't question it merely as much as the crew. I was less likely to talk about the odd job and spread it around, which would start rumors. And back then, I rationalized it by making myself think that he was just doing something to benefit the cast, after all the complaints we had about the freezer. The guy had me set up three digital cameras in that ice box, all fixed and shooting at different angles. They were hardwired and ran through to the next room over, directly into a laptop. In my mind, it provided a different way to shoot the surface scenes. Have less of the crew in there, also phrasing. Maybe us actors would feel less pressure on us to get the scene right in a hurry. Hell, I also thought that it would give us an excuse to not spend more than a few minutes in there at a time. We'd get directions in normal temps, run in and do a few takes, then run back out again if we needed more direction. Quick in and out tips like that would have made shooting in the freezer not really a problem at all. I even pictured myself playing the hero on the next shoot with Eunice and the others thanking me for making their work lives more bearable. Stupid. I was a goddamn idiot, trying to think it all away, put my own spin on something I should have known was suspect. I'll never stop blaming myself for what happened, for not telling the others. And the worst part? I wasn't even there. I could have helped stock it, or at least just help in some other way. As soon as I'm done, Schmigg pats my shoulder like we're about to have a father-son talk, and he says to me, we won't need you for the Saturday shoot. You aren't in any scenes yet. Take it easy tomorrow, call you when I need you. To this day, I'm not sure why I was spared. One of the others probably knows, but they won't tell me. Don't want to add to my guilt, I'm sure. Now, please don't contact me again. I'm sure you want to write a story out of this, and maybe try to find us some justice, but too much time has passed, and I doubt anyone will ever find that sick piece of shit again. Sincerely, Polly. And that was last I heard from Polly. I did try to contact him further later on, but he stopped responding. While he provided me with many details that made me feel ill, and realized that my whole life could have been in danger way back then, I had many more questions. I needed specifics, and the end of the story. I couldn't leave it with something that happened in the freezer. I had to know. Polly did attach Eunice's contact information though. She was even more reluctant to talk to me than he was, and once she did acknowledge my existence, she was as combative as one can be through digital mail. Several times, I thought my research would end with her. She replied in short snippets spread across long waiting periods, so I don't have as much from her as I do the others. Still, I did get some more info from her, and a good idea of just how terrifying and life altering the incident was for the cast. For the sake of this story, I'll tone down her language. Just a bit. What the hell do you want, Lady? I don't give a shit if Polly gave you my email address, because you dropped by for some scrapbooking a few times at that meat plant. We aren't buddies, and for all I know, you're just seeing a chance at some book deal here. Or maybe a shitty lifetime movie recreation. What that asshole did to us was real. We are real people. Take your investigative journalism and piss off. Okay. I'm sorry, kind of. I might have misread your intentions in the previous emails. It's hard to convey emotion through text, right? I get mad easily. Triggered, I guess the kids call it now. But, just for your information, you're making me tap into some traumatic dark shit by even just bringing up 2006 at all. Why should I tell you, pretty much a stranger, more than I tell my therapist? I've been in and out of rehab three times since then, and if you send me on a fourth trip, I'm making you pay for it. Give me another week to gather my thoughts. Two weeks pass. Yeah, I get it. I'm volunteering personal info about myself like it's nothing. My brain got rewired after what happened. I can blab on and on about how messed up I am in a real life conversation too. I'm like a runaway freight train. I've lost a lot of friends because of it. Therapist says it's a coping mechanism that I talk about the shit I do, because it helps me keep the shit I don't want to talk about buried and locked away. Damn it, now you got me shaking. I'm going to take a hit of something and get back to you at around three in the morning. Right before bed is when I'm slightly more comfortable talking about the world's twisted side, the crap people pretend they don't want to hear. I wake up the next morning to see an email sent at four 12 a.m. I hated being on that show. I've never even watched an episode of it, and I hope that any videotapes that might have a recording have been burned. Still, it was a job, and I was getting paid. The college debt was already screwing me over. Walton and Judy, they were nice. The robot guy, I forget his real name, he was a little weird. But we really only ever saw him inside the robot suit with a digitized voice. We all joked that he must have been a method actor, and it might have been true. He still checks in on us, so I have his email. But every day, literally every day when we were unset, Holly would put on his charms around me. I couldn't read the room, or get the hint that I wasn't interested. Granted, I guess, I never actually told him no to any of his off-the-job propositions. My fault on that. I left everything up in the air back then. Maybe, was the one word I used to say more than whatever. These days, I have no problem saying no, usually with a hill preceding it. The two of us are on good terms now, though. We might even be long-distance friends, actually, which I could really use more of. He really grew up since then, but he was kind of forced to. I wish he'd stopped taking all the blame. It's eating him up inside. That's his way of dealing with it, thinking feeling guilt soothes the torment. It does not, never will. I'm still a small girl, and back then, I had a mild-eating disorder that kept me thin on top of it. And that asshole director, I'll never say or write his name, was always making me wear these pretty little kid dresses for my scenes, with nothing on my legs but a pair of tights. Still have nightmares about that freezer. My memories of that night are hazy, out of order, and like I experienced them in third person, happening to someone else, disassociation. So, don't expect too much from me as far as getting it right and in good detail. We had to come in for a weekend shoot. Saturday night, but just one hour, he tells us. I believe he gave us some excuse about running the freezer on full blast, while the electricity rates were lower. Got me thinking, great, we are shooting a blizzard scene. I tell myself, if this one hour sucks, I'm off the show. Not like I signed a contract or anything. I could quit any time. It turned out much worse than any of us could have imagined. He never had us sign a contract because he didn't give a shit about his cast. We were all disposable in his pursuit of art. Maybe he liked Polly enough to spare him, but I'll never know what he was thinking. Not like I'd ever want to do any digging around in that prick's skull. Hope he's burning in hell, wherever he is. Like I said, it's a blur to me. I was in survival mode and my mind was shutting down to try and shield me from what was happening. I can't give you specifics. Even if I could, I don't think I'd be ready to relieve that night and write it all down. With all the build-up I'm giving you, you probably think he was performing some evil ritual in that Fraser, trying to summon a demon or some shit. But it's a lot simpler and more human than that. We took turns being hurt, badly. Don't remember the reason, if there was one, or how he picked Goo to hurt next. He had brought in these two huge guys we hadn't seen before, and I don't think they ever said a word. Even our boss seemed afraid of them. They were the two that did all of the hurting. He didn't want to get his hands bloody, who knows. Want to know what was really messed up? Two of our torturers wore the show's monster costumes the whole time. The cold just made the pain worse. It's bad enough to get bruised all over and crack some ribs on a warm, sunny day. When your skin is frigid and numb, it's all amplified. It stings far longer, and it's like your body can't even start the healing process. I also can't remember what happened to my left pinky finger, at what point I lost it. But I can see that it's definitely still gone as I type this out. Guess I blocked that part out. I hope that was the worst of it for me. Speaking of hope, I hope that it was those two maniac thugs that caught up to the show's brilliant creator and sent him to hell for skimping out on the demands of whatever sick bastard was financing him. I'd be extra happy if something awful happened to the pair right after that. But God knows the karmic system is a crock. Bad guys get away with evil shit all the time. That's all I'm telling you. It's just about all I can say, anyway. You've put up with me these past weeks, and I appreciate your kind and supportive words, even if I haven't said that until now. So, I'm going to give you Walton's email. But, try to be even more respectful and patient with him. His perspective on all of this is confused, skewed. That night broke a nice older man, all the more reason to never forgive the people who put us through terror for the sake of an idiotic kitty show. Walton went into that freezer a healthy and talkative guy, and he left it mentally scarred and in need of permanent care. Good luck with your story. Goodbye. With love, Eunice. Eunice gave me the personal account I wanted of what happened that night, though it lacked details, which was understandable, given what such an experience could do to people, along with the passage of time. I contacted Walton next, who would be in his early 70s at this point. Unlike Eunice and Polly, he responded and opened up to me right away, like he had so much ready to share to anyone who asked. It soon made sense to me why. Eunice was right when she told me about the way he viewed things. Walton types with severe spelling and grammatical errors, and some of his words are entirely run or out of context as well, meaning that I had to decide for his responses and I may have assumed some of his meanings incorrectly. Out of respect for his dignity, I'll write down his emails as I fixed them up, as accurately as I possibly could have done so. Hello, friend. It is so good to speak with someone else from that nice show I worked on. There are a few of us. I wish I could track down the crew and talk with them too. I always like talking about the days gone by. So you took the photographs? Were they ever developed? I bet they are lovely. I would very much like to see them, if just to help me reminisce. My memory is not as good as it used to be. I want to remember more from the show. It was the only time I really acted, although I was in a few commercials when I was younger. Mr. Schmidt was always kind to me. How is he doing? My other friends won't tell me. If you don't know, then that's okay. Episode 4 filming went by so quickly for me, that I can't really remember much of it at all. But I can recall some things from the script and the plot. The others have forgotten so much. I think because of the accident. All they can remember is the accident, which is sad. We worked together to make a nice story with a good twist at the end, but Judy had an accident and the show was canceled. We didn't even get to finish that episode. Polly was missing somewhere on the surface, so we all got together to look for him. We made the surface seams in a freezer, where it's very cold and dark. Polly's sister ran away in the last episode on the surface, so our characters thought maybe he did the same thing. But there were monsters waiting for us. They were mean, and they terrified Judy and Eunice. The machine man was calm, since he never had any feelings anyway. I tried to be brave for Judy and Eunice, but then the monsters started hurting me. This was not in the script, so it was a surprise and I didn't know how to react. Judy and Eunice shouted at the monsters to stop getting me, but I was okay with it. Just as long as they didn't hurt the girls. They broke my bones, but the machine man used the tools attached to his arms to try and help me. I'm not sure why we were being hurt in a real way. Maybe our director was trying to make a scary scene where we felt true pain and terror. Before I could ask him when it would end or how our characters were meant to react, Judy had an accident and fell down. The floor was slippery in there. When Judy fell, the director panicked and ran off, and I think the two monsters ran after him. I remember Eunice saying that we had to leave right away before they came back. The machine man took Judy to the hospital in his car, and Eunice brought me to a different hospital where a doctor helped me get better. One of Eunice's fingers was missing and I'm not sure why, but she drove her car anyway, and a nurse put a bandage on her hand. We didn't do the show anymore after that. I don't think I got paid for the fourth episode either. All of that pain and the best acting I ever did, and I never even got a check. It was a very strange experience, and I'm sorry if I got some of the facts wrong. I guess we all remember the show in different ways. Oh, you want to know some more about the robot? Well, since you saw the show, you must remember that he could attach all sorts of tools to his arms. It was a part of the costume, and the character used things like a wrench, drill, hammer, and circular saw in the episodes we did make to solve problems and fix broken things. The costume's actual hands couldn't hold objects very well on their own because they were so big and clunky. That's why we made it, so that tools could be attached to the arms. I should know. I helped make the robot suit. I used to do metal welding, so I talked the costume designer a few things, and I would say we made a very good costume that was the perfect fit for the puppeteer. I wish I could see it again, and that we made more episodes too, of course. I always wanted to see an action figure version made of it if the show became a hit. Sadly, it was not meant to be. I wonder where the costume is now. I still have every episode on tape, and like to watch them now and then, although I have to be sneaky about it. We aren't supposed to use the VCR here ourselves. It's the last one we have, and the caretakers are worried we'll break it. But I have very steady hands, even if the rest of me shakes. The following is the last topical email I got from Walton. No, I don't know Judy's email. The robot contacts us sometimes, but with a new email each time, that is just numbers, so I can't really share it. I'm sorry. But thank you for your correspondence. It was nice to talk to someone about the old days. Let me know if you find the fourth episode. I would like to see how it turned out. Sincerely, Walton. My emails with Walton didn't stop entirely, like with Polly and Eunice. While we didn't talk too much about the show, as he had given me everything he could, I did feel sorry for him and wanted to give him someone to chat with. He had somehow held onto a sense of humor and warmth, despite what he experienced. His mind really must have blocked out or forgotten most of the terror of that night. Unfortunately, that also made him an unreliable source. Even so, he did make me turn my attention onto the robot character. It was true that the costume's arms could hold all sorts of attachments, any one of which could double as a torture instrument. I had to wonder if the actor slash puppeteer was in on it in some way, or at the least, had no problem with some torture in a freezer. In the show, he is a knowledgeable machine and a Swiss army knife of equipment and ideas that can fix any situation with a little help from his human friends. The character really was known simply as the robot, and that's how the name appears in the credits. But with no IMDB page for the show, it isn't easy searching for any of the actors to see what else they might have been in. Googling the name of Guy in the Robot Soups revealed no social media, but I did find some simple information from media and military sources. He was a discharged soldier from Iowa, who served in Afghanistan, and he would have been around 35 when the show's production was going on. But without contact information for him or Judy, my search had nowhere else to go. He only ever reached out to the others when he wanted to, and apparently, Judy had left the internet altogether, I assumed for the sake of her mental health. My only hope of getting in touch with the puppeteer seemed to rely on one of the cast telling him about being a response to one of his emails from a temporary address, and then he'd need to willingly reach out to me. It was a long shot, and I accepted that my investigation was probably over. Polly wasn't there at all that night, and Eunice and Walton both suffered so much that they could no longer give me clear and consistent details. Months went by, and gradually my interest faded away again. I rewatched the show several times to try and pick up on any hidden meanings or subtle visual clues. What kinds, I had no idea. Just anything that seemed off. There wasn't really. Other than its dark atmosphere and some serious themes, the series was fairly straightforward and didn't leave much to dissect. You could argue that I was trying to find out something that only happened around the show. It was vile, but had little to do with the production. For no rational reason, Schmidt basically sabotaged his own show. He owed money to someone, fine, but did he really think he'd get away with it? That his cast would come in on Monday to get back to shooting, missing fingers and toes, with broken bones and all? He'd have to start the entire production from scratch. If anyone from the cast was meant to survive, they would have told the crew and then old Bernie would have to flee the country if he wanted a chance to try making his show again somewhere else. And unless he found a bank willing to give him a loan, he'd likely end up making a cycle of the whole thing. I don't know. It was around the three month mark of my investigation when I finally took a step back and got a good look at how ridiculous the whole thing was. Schmidt was either never right in his head or he made an incredibly stupid deal with a scumbag who later took him by complete surprise by making him set up torture night in a meat locker. I tried looking into who might have financed the whole thing, but got nowhere. The end credits don't list or thank anyone for signing the checks. And while I did get information on the old meat plant where the show was shot fairly easily, it was another dead end. There's nothing dubious about the company that once owned the building, which has long since been demolished. There was a full production with people I could talk to about it, and yet due to the nature of its obscurity and unfascated traumatic memories, I had nothing but a few fuzzy first hand accounts of that night. It was frustrating to say the least. Answers always felt just out of reach. Then in the middle of 2021 and right around the time I was getting ready to give up and move on with my life, the actor and puppeteer who played the robot suddenly emailed me out of the blue. We only responded to one another a few times, but he provided the greatest detail yet of what happened because his memory wasn't clouded. I think I'd be better off had I not known of this perspective and version of the truth, but I feel obligated to include his take. Hello, is this the photographer? Respond within three days or you'll miss your chance. The others have told me you wanted to talk. I can't say for certain when I'll be in touch again. I seldom check on them anymore. I send a reply within the first five minutes. Okay, I assure you, I haven't been ignoring you or trying to hide. I simply was not aware of your investigation into all of this. Maybe you can shed some light on it. Maybe not. The rest of us have been over everything more than enough. It's now a tired story to us and I feel guilty making them revisit it many times, trying to wring out the last tiny droplets of detail from a dirty sponge. I don't think there's anything left to learn at this point. I've never been able to find the person or people truly responsible for that night and I know again about looking into things myself. This is coming from the guy who would emotionally and mentally survived the most from what happened if you couldn't tell already. You've already talked to the others so there's a good chance you suspect me of being more involved than they were. I get that. I was always in a robot suit and spoke with no emotion so of course I'm going to be seen as less than human or unfeeling by them, even if just unconsciously. But we've had many chats and they trust me to some degree. Despite not even knowing my face as far as I can recall, I always came in before them and left after because it took a half hour just to get in or out of that elaborate costume and I think old Bernie liked it that way. The cast never got to know me so their acting reflected that. To them, I basically was an automaton they had little need to show any attachment towards but there was always a person in that metal. Yes, I did serve in the Middle East, but not for long. I did things there that I am not proud of which I still hate about myself. My discharge from service was neither honorable or unjust. Without the benefits and coming home as a broken man, I was desperate for money and some sense of purpose again. I never expected where that chance would come from. Out of the blue one day, Mr. Schmidt calls me and asks if I want to be in a public access show that had great promise. I don't know how he found my number or why he chose me specifically. I think it's a joke or a scam at first but he makes himself sound legit and I stay on the phone with him. Eventually, he gets to the compensation part of the conversation. It's a lot, much more than you'd ever think someone would get on a show maybe only a few hundred would ever see. When I stepped foot inside that warehouse a few months later and met the rest of the cast, while in the robot suit, always in the robot suit, I already had no doubt that I was by far the highest paid among them because I had a special purpose, it would later turn out. I'm not an actor, not even a blip in my mind. Mr. Schmidt doesn't care, tells me my voice will be replaced by a digital one in post. I've never worn a complicated costume before either. Doesn't matter, he goes on. He needed someone used to hauling around heavy gear all day feeling okay being confined in body armor while lugging around materials. The robot suit would be a natural fit for me, he says. Then he adds what is most important that I don't fright him easily, that I knew how to hurt people. Red flag, right there. I'm thinking he's trying to get me to do some sadama such as to crap on a porno he's making on the side while he has this warehouse rented out. No, no, don't misunderstand. I remember him telling me, I just have this idea for an episode later on where you malfunction and become a bad robot for a bit. I want you to be able to strike genuine fear in the other characters. And I have defense routines so I can protect the others so I'd be beating up people in rubber monster suits on occasion, as well. He doesn't want me flinching or hesitating in those moments because he wants the fight scenes to look genuine. Real perfectionist, this spy. Trying to show the world his grand vision. But I couldn't argue with the pay so I agree and sign on. The first couple episodes go great. It's a new experience for me and I enjoy playing a character where I just have to move around in some bulky metal and don't need to worry about my wooden delivery if everything was going to be dubbed over anyway. He doesn't even give me directions most of the time. I just recite my dialogue, move where I'm supposed to and use the power tools that attach to the suit what necessary. Back then I thought I simply didn't need much direction. All these years later, I get why I either intimidated him or he didn't want to provoke me and get on my bad side before what was coming. You already know the rest so I'll skip ahead to that night. I have to change into the suit by myself since none of the crew is there and I don't have my usual helper around. But Mr. Schmidt doesn't look agitated with me when I finally join the others in the Fraser despite causing a delay. I notice that Polly isn't there and U.S. Judy and Walton all have these looks like they know everything about this shoot is run yet aren't ready to run off into the night and save themselves just yet. They probably didn't believe that whatever they thought was about to happen actually would at that night was real. Bernie doesn't say a word until these two giant guys wearing the show's monster suits come in. They barely fit and their muscles are clearly breaking the seams. But know what? I feel safe in my robot get up. At first, it's just an absurd situation to me. Guess you had to be there. Short of it is, Bernie gives the directions while his two goons stand idly by, looking threatening. I'm to follow instructions exactly, he says. I notice he has an earpiece. He's listening to someone, but I never found out who. The orders are simple and clear. I'll inflict pain on the others. If I refuse, I'll be punished and the monster men will do the deeds instead. He knows I got the power tools so he adds that if I try to run or be a hero, he'll detonate a remote explosive located somewhere in my suit. Guy had lost his mind. And to this day, I don't know if he was telling the truth. I was too much of a coward to fight back or look for a stick of C4 or whatever he supposedly had in an outfit that I had no way to get out of easily. Chances are, he was lying, but I believed him. The bad shit goes on for just 20 minutes, but it feels longer. I'm not going to get heavily into specifics. I remember it all, but it's my choice not to tell you exactly what happened. I mean, I hope you're not the kind of person that has to know everything that goes on inside a damn torture dungeon. There's yelling, crying, cursing, a heavy mix of emotion, and the cast is also comforting and trying to help one another. I refuse a few times and watch the monsters get them even harder than I would, and the old bolt cutters, one of them is armed with arse low and painful, so I end up forcing myself to do things as much as I can, just because I know I can throw my punches a little. As bad as it is for me to hurt the girls, it's even worse doing it to Walton. Guy was always so nice, and he had no idea what was happening. Minute by minute, I see his humanity drain away until he completely shuts down. It's after I, and I'm sorry for typing this out, take off one of his toes that the orders to hurt him further suddenly stop. Judy becomes the sole victim after that. I got no idea why Shamik is directing all this wrath towards her. Bastard just stands there throughout it all, chewing something nervously, bouncing a leg up and down between shouting new orders every minute or so. Then it all makes sense to me, like my subconscious had been putting the pieces together, while I'm doing all this reprehensible shit to people I had come to consider friends. On my way into the freezer, I had seen a laptop set up on a table near its door, with wires connected that disappeared into a hole in the wall. I didn't think of it much at the time, but when I glanced at it earlier, I saw some website with a dark background and a box of scrolling text. Positive it was a chat room. You figure it out yet? I'm 99% sure that Shamik's financiers made him pay back his debts by setting up a red room. It would explain the seemingly random methods used against the cast and how they were chosen. Six thugs from all over the world are throwing money at their screens to see pain. Highest bidder gets their request pushed through. Once they've sampled the menu, they decide to gang up on Judy. Want to make her the star of the show. I wonder about two things the most. How much money could have come in by the end of the night, and how far it could have gone? Don't think I'll ever find the answers. It all ended early, as quickly as it began. When Judy fainted and collapsed to the floor, Ulyss and Walton tried to help her, and the monsters rushed over to pull them off, not caring at all about Judy's health. That was when Shamik must have panicked and saw his chance. The goons might have been keeping him a prisoner in there as much as they were us, and with their attention elsewhere and no longer guarding the door, our fabulous director ran off into the night, almost slipping on the frozen floor as he did so. That was the last I saw of the guy. The muscle ripped off their stupid masks and went after him, and we were left alone. We also wasted no time in escaping. I know what serious bodily distress looks like. Saw plenty myself while serving. I still keep this from the others, but Judy had actually gone into cardiac arrest. She just couldn't take it the whole night. They scared her into a heart attack, and I think Shamik saw it too, and bugged out when he realized where this was going. Of course, he was probably only worried about himself, getting caught and going away for a long time. Couldn't make it easy showed from a cell. I had to get her to my car and to the hospital, and save myself as well. So forgive me for not grabbing the laptop when I had the chance. I had forgotten about it in the moment, and it would have been hard to carry with me, even if I hadn't. Leaving it behind is another regret, but I try to tell myself that there was nothing on it that would have helped us get people to prison or simply reveal why this was happening and I could be right, maybe it was just a murder machine, there to stream a video and nothing else. Hope I'm right. So, despite my best efforts, Judy didn't make it. Her heart just couldn't take it. And, thinking back, I might have seen her take pills on our breaks before, so she may have been on medication for a pre-existing condition. Not like the doctors would have told me, or that it even matters. Fact is, they scared her to death. She'd still be here if not for what that piece of shit put us through. The others still don't know. I could never bring myself to tell them. When I email them, I lie, say I'm still in contact with Judy, that she says hi, and he's getting better. Not sure why I'm telling you. Maybe I can't bring myself to lie to one more person. But please don't tell them. I know it's wrong, but if they find out, it'll just make everything even worse for them. After everything I've seen, I can handle it without breaking. Not so sure about Walton or Eunice. I wish I could get justice for Judy, but I doubt we'll ever hear from her about Schmidt again. I haven't even been able to track down the crew from the show. For all I know, one or more of them may have been in on it too. Oh, one more thing. I haven't trusted Polly since he told me about the cameras a few months after it went down. I never really liked him to begin with, honestly. Eunice gets along with him and disagrees with me when I tell her I just find it too suspicious that he wasn't there that night. He could have been running the stream from the safety of his bedroom, and he has yet to really convince me otherwise. Eunice just tells me to chill about it. She says that a young white guy wasn't the preferred demographic of the people watching. On the other hand, plenty of market for two girls and an old kind dude, right? But it's whatever. Not like I'll ever find the truth or be able to do anything about it. I can tell the others don't fully trust me and never will. I was the black sheep of the cast and was forced to brutalize them, so I get it. Though if they think I left that phraser without any scars untouched by Schmidt, they're wrong. I probably got it the worst, having to do what I did. Well, second after duty. Schmidt was wrong too, about his reasons for hiring me. You never actually get used to hurting people. If only we could find the producer who gave Schmidt the money and means in the first place. In all likelihood, they were also the one that hired us based off of the audition tapes we all sent in since our director didn't really compliment anyone's acting and I never got the impression that he was the one who chose us. Follow the money trail, right? If only it were at all possible. Whole production was shady, done under the radar, didn't even use contracts. I have no plans to contact the others, or you again. I could change my mind in a few years, but for now, I think I'll disappear for a while. They still think that's what Judy did, so I'm sure they'll understand. With any luck, you'll get something out of your look into this darkness. Kind regards, the robot. Following the robot's responses, I took a long break from everything. And when I tried to get back to the search for any information at all, I quickly gave up. I don't want to go any further. I feel both drained and like I've already done enough. I also don't have a baby that will take up my focus as well. That's why I'm posting my findings on this lost media message board. I'm not sure where else to ask for a call to action. You guys know what you're doing, and while I know that this case is a bizarre one, that is a bit outside the usual, all I'm asking for is a community effort from the professionals. All of the preceding was posted in late 2021. In the end, making all of this public may have been a mistake. I was hopeful at first and got some new perspective from the dozen or so members that reached out into the world for clues about the production or the whereabouts of the crew and director. While some among the crew were actually found and contacted, they had little to add and none of them had any knowledge of that night before or after. We just got the same opinions about Shmick from them, that he was strange or a creep, and they also all had the thought back then about where he got his money. There was something else that caught fire in the thread I started, and it led me to have doubts about all four of the cast members I had talked with. As Eunice had said in an email, emotion is hard to convey through text and with no eyes to look into, so is intention and truth. None of the four had hair tight alibis and reasons were brought up on why any of them could be the mastermind. I mean, even Walton became a suspect to us. The least likely, sure, but that would be the point. He could have faked his condition to make himself seem innocent, and searches have been done to try and find out what care facility he might be staying in, with no results. Granted, that isn't easy information to get hold of, but there's almost nothing at all about the guy online. You'd think Eunice would be spared too, but her intensity came off as a little forced, maybe even completely faked to those helping in the search. I had posted her original and uncensored emails to me, where she's even more spiteful, and they really don't come across as fully genuine. She likes Polly, when he's arguably just as suspicious as the robot. And if she hated being on the show as much as she did, why didn't she just quit? She could have easily been replaced. All of them could, really. Schmidt saw the cast as disposable, literally. And of course, Polly wasn't even there. We didn't buy the idea about him not being in demand. If some psychos wanted to pay to see the cast being tortured, he and his happy-go-lucky attitude would have been on the list. There's no way that someone didn't want to turn his smiles into screams. He also set up the cameras. He had to have known something was going on. He could have gone home to run the chat room from bed and then easily play innocent. Judy, we just don't know enough about. From my brief interactions with her, she struck me as an aloof person and hard to read, at least when she wasn't in character. She didn't seem to be in need of money, either. I saw her park her Mercedes the morning that the second episode started shooting. Only the robot was with her following the main event, and it could be that he helped her fake her death and vanish without a trace. We didn't find any stories online about her demise, not even an obituary. As for the robot, the uncertainty we had with him came from all the same old reasons. He did the torturing, comes off as emotionally unaffected, and we still don't even know what he looks like. Everything he told me was reasonable, but just not enough to clear himself of involvement. I feel like I can speak about the cast this way now, because I have doubts I'll ever get to talk to any of them again, or that they'll read any of this. When I say that getting a community involved may have been a mistake, it's not from lack of trying. They dug up the episodes and watched them, they got interested, and they did try. Too hard though. Despite my wishes, they tracked down alternate emails for Polly and Eunice, and I made an error in my posts that also gave away Waltons. As a result, the three were asked too many questions and borderline harassed. They stopped responding to everyone within a few days and disappeared themselves from the internet. The thread got out of control, and my involvement in the investigation ended. I blame myself. Eventually, about eight months ago, I stopped checking the message board altogether, once each reply was nothing but speculation and bad leads. Right now, it's late 2022. The story worked itself into my mind again recently, so I went ahead and gave the thread a look just to see where it had gone. After so long, I thought, maybe someone had found something. I wasn't going to delve back into it myself, not when I have a family to manage, but I was always going to have some lingering curiosity. Unsurprisingly, the thread had devolved into baseless theories and insults. All meaningful conversation died off about six months ago, with no substantive new information. The last real post simply read, that this show. That's not quite where this all ends however. The second to last post was made just a week ago, with someone asking, hey, any updates on this? And does anyone have fresh links for the show? I wanted to watch it again, but sources keep getting removed for some reason. The thread was locked shortly afterwards, by one of the moderators of the message board. That moderator had been on the forum for many years, long before I had even first posted the story. Yet they hadn't left a reply in my thread, until the day that they locked it. Here is their message. Locking this for the Necrobump. This thread is dead. Not like it was getting anywhere. Might as well reveal to you guys that I've been lurking in here for a while, and it's sad watching you all bumble about with no answers. I worked on this show. Actually, I both produced it, and acted in it. So, you got that much right. To everyone who hates Schmidt, don't worry. I took care of that idiot long ago. I'm not sure what to make of this claim, especially coming from one of the message board's staff. I contacted an admin, but never even got a response. Maybe they're investigating, but keeping quiet about it. I haven't seen any posts from that moderator since then, but then again, it's only been a week. And it could just be a sick joke. Who knows what will happen from here? I'll just continue to be thankful that I wasn't more involved with Spaceship Earth. But it was one hell of a first job.