Episode 206 – Tripping With Mike

Summary

In this episode, I am joined by my friend Mike to discuss some recent adventures and our trip from last Summer to the Museum of Shadows.

VIDEO VERSION COMING SOON

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This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

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Episode 205 – Ringing In The Long Dark

Summary

In this special scripted episode, I reflect on my recent journey with tinnitus.

Music provided by: Storyblocks

To read along:

Ringing In The Long Dark

In the deep recesses of the Midwest, there lies a place filled with restless spirits and unspeakable evil. At least, that’s what they told us.

To me, it seemed like a collection of creepy dolls, questionable grammar, and objects that may or may not have been picked up from Goodwill that week. So when we reached the basement, and I found myself in front of a large statue of Baphomet with a spot for offerings, I treated it like a bit. I dropped my dollar, and that was that.

Months later, standing frozen at work with a ringing in my ear, I’d be lying if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind: Did I just invite something in? The reality? It was far less dramatic and more terrifying.

I remember the moment happening right around the end of January. I had been battling a sickness that was lingering since Christmas break.

What the hell was happening? It sounded like an electric device on the fritz. I looked around the room and up at the bright, white ceiling. “Are you there, Baphomet? It’s me, Jeremy. You can cut the shit now.”

I left the room just to confirm what I had already feared. There was no device. The ring was coming from inside of me. What about the podcast or silent writing moments? Oh God. I had to calm myself. I didn’t even know the cause, and certainly not the permanence of it. I took a breath and began to think new thoughts. How could I have gotten here?

I’ve always had a very special relationship with music, thanks to my sister being an influence growing up. She introduced me to lots of great bands at the time, and we watched plenty of MTV. My parents weren’t huge into music, but I had some influence from some oldies compilation CDs they had lying around, and most certainly from my Mom’s love of The Beatles.

Eventually, I developed my own tastes and was proud to have owned albums from the likes of Weird Al, Fatboy Slim, and plenty of great 90’s rock. I was not so proud to have owned albums from the likes of Aqua, Savage Garden, and Chumbawamba. As a kid, though, a catchy tune was a catchy tune. If the single was great, surely the whole album could be. I really had no shame, and some would argue taste.

As I grew older, my love of listening evolved as my awesome sister would start taking me to concerts. I still remember going to the Warped Tour for the first time. For those familiar with Milwaukee, this was back when it was still at The Rave. Yeah, I’m pretty old. Anyway, the point is, it was magic. Multiple stages, extreme sports, and I even got to meet some artists. I remember someone from The Bouncing Souls coming up to me and asking me to say “Bouncing Souls are fucking awesome!” in front of a camera. I didn’t do it. I was far too shy. What a missed opportunity! If anyone from the band is reading or listening now, sorry! You’re awesome!

I loved live music, but did I attend more concerts than the average person? Enough to accelerate this issue? No way, man. Yeah, I can remember trying to get up front for a lot of shows, and no, I never wore any hearing protection, but it’s not like I was in the fucking band.

I snapped back to reality for a moment. Maybe I didn’t need to go over my entire life history. I was definitely overthinking, but I just couldn’t help myself.

My relationship with music didn’t end there. As soon as I knew what headphones were, there were lots of moments filled with music blasting in my ears. And I mean blasting. I used to think that if the volume goes that high, it must be designed to be listened to. Even when I knew better, louder just got me more amped up. Who wants to run to music that sounds like it’s being played in an elevator? I needed to feel it in my veins.

I didn’t know what I was dealing with, but the thought that something I loved so much could have contributed made me sad. I sighed. If I was being honest, it actually wasn’t so much the music, it was me. I could’ve tried to do more to protect my ears. I had no choice but to try to forgive myself and move forward. I, of course, knew how all this worked. This one just really fucking stung.

I continued on with the rest of my work for the evening. The Long Dark, sickness, and now this? The funny thing is, I was actually feeling very optimistic headed into this particular Winter season. Time away was going to be great; work was becoming a grind, and I was excited by the idea of some projects lined up that I planned on working on. On top of that, the break kicked off with a trip to a really cool historic car & other neat memorabilia museum. It should have been the perfect recharge. Instead, a weird feeling falling over me after the trip, full-blown sickness during Christmas, and then the eventual ringing journey.

When I got home, I did one of the worst things that a person in this situation can do: I doom scrolled and did my own internet “research”. I read threads on Reddit, mostly horror stories. People saying things like, “Developed a ringing and my life sucks now! I envy all of those who still know true silence!”. I also searched for medical information, doing the classic move of running down the list of causes and thinking of every possibility. I got so desperate at a certain point, I even tried turning to AI; something I once thought was the enemy.

Back in my room, at the end of that panicked evening, I wondered if sleep would be a problem. There was also a tinge of hope left that maybe by morning it would just be gone, like a quick glitch in a game.

The next morning, as I got my bearings, I was greeted to the familiar “eeee” sound. I remember being young and hungover, lazing in bed, hating the sound of birds. Now? I would have given anything for just the birds.

The exact timeline is hazy now, but I believe I gave it just under a week before I decided I needed to call a doctor. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started getting over the whole pick up a phone and get checked out thing. It was probably sometime after my knee issue. I came to the conclusion that the build-up is usually worse and this wasn’t so bad. I also decided that getting info whether good, or not so good, beats not living. Living is good.

In the week leading up to the doctor visit, of course, I spiraled. I went to work, scrolled some more pages, and even started to do some weird decongestant exercises that I saw on YouTube. It was from some new age type of channel. The moves were a series of strange rubbing motions on my face and lots of nose blowing. I’m not even trying to knock this stuff. It could have some positive effects, or even some actual evidence, but this is just an example of some of the ridiculous lengths my brain would go.

When the day of the doctor visit finally arrived, I was still in my head, yet also had some relief in knowing that I’d gain more info and get some peace of mind either way. I explained my situation to the doctor, that I was pretty damn sick at the time, but also have not been kind to my ears in the past. His suggestion was for me to take an oral steroid every day for a week, and get back to him if it didn’t help.

That week began with lingering congestion. I didn’t think my nose was ever going to clear up or stop running at certain points. I tried to distract myself as much as I could. Normally, a long walk could help, but it was brutally cold, and it would have taken some inspirational miracle spark of some kind to get my ass out there. David Goggins would’ve had to come to my house and scream in my face while dragging me.

The next best thing was to just veg out and play video games. Well, the next best thing was probably just another form of activity, like hitting the treadmill or using literally any item I had inside my exercise room. I chose video games, though, what can I say? It was a struggle, and while it didn’t provide me with any movement, it was an excellent distraction. Within just a few minutes of getting into a game, it was like, “What ringing?”

The week limped along. My distractions mostly worked. I watched a few YouTube videos about the topic, but it never became an insane rabbit hole. With each day, I’d wake up and wonder, could this be the morning of silence? By the weekend, with a still ringing ear, I stopped asking that question. My wishful thinking was turning into something else. I knew it was time to schedule a follow-up.

I was really getting annoyed with all the visits I was making to my doctor. Not long before all of this, I was in the office for a separate issue. Of course, that issue involved seeing a specialist, so it wasn’t just the one visit. It was the visit, then follow-up, then wait for the specialist…you get my drift.

During this visit, he seemed a bit puzzled by my appearance. Did he not say, follow-up with him in a week if the ringing persisted? Was I supposed to call and leave a message? Wait, was I? I didn’t know how all this worked. Before all these recent health issues, I missed a lot of yearly check-ups, and had no other reason to go to a doctor. Stupid to not get checked up? Maybe, but that’s not the point.

I sat there a bit puzzled myself, waiting for more. He asked me if I had scheduled an appointment with the ENT doctor and basically said I was kinda just shit outta luck.

Um, what? Couldn’t he have just sugar-coated it a little bit? Okay, it wasn’t like he actually said, “shit outta luck”, but he may as well have said that. He could have even just straight-up lied to me. I would’ve been okay with that.

I made the call to the ENT office as soon as I could. Even if they didn’t have great news either, it would still be news. It would help me move forward. I was feeling a sense of urgency; the rest of the world apparently was not. I would not be able to get an appointment until May. At the time of the call, it was the beginning of February.

Okay, well, maybe it will just go away on its own by then, I thought. Sure, and money will fall out of the sky, and we’ll all get ice cream. No matter how much doubt, though, I had to remain positive.

For the rest of the month, I remained in my head. I thought of future projects, and wondered if anything would ever be the same again. I had to come to terms over the past year, that maybe the previous manic days of creating may never come back in the same form, however, I never once feared I would lose my ability or voice. This season was so brutal, it was starting to convince me that I was.

Things always slow down for a while after I upload the Christmas Special. It’s usually a large endeavor, and a break is well earned. It just becomes difficult to stop the break and get back to it. Breaks are a great comfort, and the long dark is a bitch. Most of the time, I will do some writing, or an idea will spark, and the floodgates will open back up. As I sat in my hot tub on a random 20-degree February night, I strained and stressed. I tried with every ounce of my being, but I couldn’t come up with shit.

I looked up at the clear night sky, at least being able to appreciate how beautiful all the stars looked. A person can’t just lose it, right? I questioned myself, trying to rationalize. What if I just re-visited an old project? That could be a great stepping stone. I had an entire list of things from the previous year that I really wanted to accomplish, and sadly, had not really done anything from it yet.

Various items from the list danced around in my head. Most of them were kinda meaty. The thought of trying to tackle one, just to build momentum and check a box, seemed daunting. Maybe that wasn’t the best place to start. I continued to reflect.

How about another essay? Last time I found myself feeling a little stuck, writing helped get that momentum back. Also, it would just be nice to get some of these more recent challenge and reflections documented. Documented? Hey, wait a minute. Maybe this whole ringing thing could also become a documentary. I could interview people and show what my experiences have been. The floodgates were officially back open.

I have a pretty bad habit of getting an idea, getting hyped about it, and then shelving it for an unknown future date. By mid-April, the tinnitus documentary looked like it was becoming one of those “on the shelf” things. I had not made much movement with it. The ball had already been dropped, as I had already missed filming some good “real” moments that I had experienced along this high-pitched journey. Yet, I was still grateful. I was still riding the wave of momentum and could see the spark. If nothing was going to come from the documentary, that was fine. It was the catalyst for everything else. It was enough in that moment to make me believe again.

One of the first podcast related activities that I did was record a “state of the podcast” address. It was just some free-form audio to help get me back into the vibe, while addressing my long list of uncompleted projects from the previous year.

Before and during recording, I worried about my hearing. Would I keep hearing the phantom sound and be thrown off? Would I keep adjusting the levels unnecessarily? I pressed on and did eventually stop thinking about all that. This was starting to sound like all those what-ifs that played in my head during the process of going back to college in my 30’s. Guess what happened with that? I was sitting there recording with a degree up on my wall. The worries were just delusions of the mind. My brain was probably just trying to get my back, and while some things maybe would never be the same again, I was still the same tenacious, resilient, and creative guy from the past.

For the rest of the recording, I locked in. It wasn’t long before I had the familiar feelings again. Ah yes, my free therapy. Ramble on. Ramble even if no one cares right now. They may not care right now, but they would never if the rambling ceased. Besides, it’s not about them, remember?

From April into May, it’s not like there was some insane turnaround, though there were some things starting to brew. It seemed that instead of working against me, the universe was starting to conspire for me. Maybe not in every aspect of my life, but certainly creatively.

Late winter into spring, I stumbled upon a bit of a solid writing routine and started digging up some old work to take some more passes on things. I ended up reviving and revising an old pilot that I had originally written in 2020. Back when I first wrote it, it was exciting, and I’m sure I probably thought it was ready to shoot. Now, it was more like: “Holy shit! This thing is really ready.” I also started working on my book of essays for the first time in probably over a year.

Not only that, but my buddy surprised me with 28 days worth of shorts made from preexisting videos from my channel. I could post daily, grease the algorithm, and essentially pick up free subscribers. This would all be while learning a lot of useful information along the way. The whole thing actually ended up being a lot more work than I had initially imagined. Instead of being able to upload via just the desktop or just mobile, I had to use both options in order to fully complete my process. On desktop, you could uncheck the box that alerts your subscribers that a new video is available, but can’t make a custom thumbnail, while on mobile, it’s the opposite. Make it make sense!

I had no room to complain too much, as it was all gifted content. Work was still work, however, and it served as a reminder that most things always take longer than anticipated.

With all of this newfound momentum and the fact that another Winter had passed, I had actually felt like I was starting to adapt better to the ringing.

Sleep was the first thing that I was able to make a relatively normal return to. I still had my moments, but I also had podcasts and cricket masking noises. Other ways in which I noticed a shift happening were more subtle. Sometimes I’d just have a packed day, get to the end, and realize, “Hey, I didn’t even think about the ringing today.”

May 5th, the day of my appointment, eventually arrived. I was nervous, yet also very eager to figure out what the hell was going on. When I got into the office, the first thing I had to do was take a hearing test. I got into what looked like a recording booth, sat down, put on some headphones, and waited for the doctor to arrive on the other side of the glass across from me. The test involved mostly the repeating back of a series of words and raising my hand if I heard certain sounds. I thought I was nailing it; the chart with my results at the end said otherwise.

The hearing results on my left ear were a straight line, while my right ear’s results looked like a sledding hill. I didn’t know how to interpret the data, but I did know enough that my right ear was altered. Dare I even say, fucked.

Right after that, I was moved into another office to meet with another doctor. She looked at the results, and it was believed that I had experienced nerve damage from a virus. Excuse me, but what the serious fuck? I didn’t even know that was possible.

Just to rule anything else out, she wanted me to get an MRI. Oh, good, back to the waiting and anticipating game. Luckily, this time it was scheduled for just later that same month. I would not have to distract myself for long.

Walking away from the first appointment left me rather unfulfilled. Sure, I got answers, I got clarity. It was nice to not be in the dark anymore. What I also got, though, was basically another person saying, “You’re shit outta luck…oh, and we have to make sure there’s nothing wrong with your brain.” I get it, it’s not that simple. If this was truly a permanent thing, I wasn’t really out of luck. People had overcome far worse situations and thrived.

It would be like quitting substances or going back to college: a fucking battle. One in which you keep getting smacked, often want to just find a corner and weep, but you keep getting up and showing up. Life has begged me so many times to throw in the towel. “Come on, man, just quit. Look around you, what’s the use? I beg you, turn that foolish optimism into proper cynicism.”

Foolish optimism had won every time and was going to continue to be undefeated. Life sucks, but it’s also beautiful, and we all deserve to find out what-if? What if I could adapt, and what if my wildest dreams are still waiting behind the door? What if the ringing becomes just another part of the story? What if?

The weeks leading up to the MRI were a bit of a roller coaster. Expensive car issues hit me pretty hard, but a couple of great trips helped to soften the blow. When the day of the appointment finally arrived, I again felt a mix of many things. Mostly, I was pretty psyched to have a day off.

The scan seemed like serious business. I had to answer the same series of lengthy questions 3 different times. The scan was delayed due to an emergency. Well, what’s another hour on top of the months I already had? The waiting area had a recliner and a TV, so it wasn’t a bad wait at all.

The scan went pretty well. I never felt any moments of panic, just lots of urges to touch my face. It was a pretty lengthy experience. At times, I imagined being on an alien ship, in some sort of observation tube. I know one thing about my brain, at least; pop culture has warped it.

When it was all over, I made the walk of shame in my gown, down the long hallway, through the lobby, and back into the changing room. I was told that it’d be about 3 to 5 days before I would find out my results.

One long holiday weekend and one workday later, I got the call. Everything was fine. Well, the ringing was still very much there, but my brain was fine. No matter what, I had to be grateful for that.

So, here I am, about to cap this essay off in June. The saga isn’t over. I have a follow-up in August, consisting of another hearing test, and the possibility of a hearing aid. Life is far from normal, yet it also goes on. I sit on the table outside, on a beautiful evening, with an almost finished essay. When that’s over, I have plans for 2 books, shooting some video projects, and who knows what else.

It’s not the same, and if I’m not careful, the momentum could crash. However, the fact that there even is momentum right now either way means I never lost my voice. Most importantly, I’ll be okay.

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This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

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The 2026 State of the Pod

Summary

In this first annual audio-only State of the Podcast, I address where I have been and where we are headed.

The MPS Merch Store is now open @ www.mpsmerch.com

This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support

Episode 204 – The 2025 Christmas Special

Summary

It’s Christmas again at MPS studios, and it’s time to celebrate. Will it be a last-minute scramble? Did I get everything I wanted? Can this Christmas be just as magical as the others? Find out in the 2025 Christmas Special!

Special guests:
Ron Jordan
Jaime Jordan
Nicholas Pepin & Justin Doffek

Music provided by:
Storyblocks

VIDEO VERSION:

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This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support

Episode 203 – The 2025 Halloween Special

Summary

3 contestants battle it out for ultimate Halloween glory. I drew a lot of inspiration from Double Dare this year. There’s a lot of visuals this year, but listening on audio is just fine! I hope you enjoy, happy Halloween!

Special guests: Garrett, Mitch, and Johnathon

Music: Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio

VIDEO VERSION:

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This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

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Episode 202 – Hide: A Short Horror Story

Summary

In this special spook-tacular episode, I present another horror short story. The story this time is called Hide. It was inspired by a Japanese game about summoning a spirit. It was something that I’d read about years ago online, and I thought that it would make for a great story. This is the story about a kid and the internet, and the lengths he would potentially go for an audience. Enjoy if you dare!

Music: Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio

Various sound FX: Storyblocks

TO READ ALONG:

Hide

By Jeremy Jordan

“What’s up, guys? It’s your boy, Xenophage69, back at it again with another challenge. Last time was a total amateur hour, so let’s try and really bring it this time!”

Timmy, or ‘Xenophage69’ as he liked to be referred to online, was shooting another video for his YouTube channel. It was 2006, the internet was still a bit like the wild west, and Timmy was having a blast. He had a few friends in real life, but online, he had a massive audience. They’d leave comments, both good and bad. Timmy ate them all up. He loved the attention and was willing to do just about anything to keep his fans entertained.

However, this wasn’t always the case. When Xenophage69 first started uploading videos, he was vlogging about the comics and movies he was particularly into at the time. He would often review or rant to a small but loyal audience. It was an enjoyable hobby that provided him with a nice outlet for expressing himself and his ideas. Once he eventually hit the magic 1000-subscriber number, everything changed.

When it came time to celebrate this milestone, he thought he’d do something a bit different. Instead of making another pop culture-type video, he decided to do a challenge. Videos of this nature were starting to trend as the age of the internet star and influencer was just beginning. The challenge was a very simple one to start with. Timmy mixed various condiments and downed the nasty mix quickly on camera.

The video caught fire within the first couple of days and ended up being the most popular thing he had ever recorded up until that point. It was something different and totally gross. People ate it up. He received lots of positive comments and feedback. Things such as, “Awesome! Next time, add horseradish!” or “Love it. Let’s see what else you can do!”

Likes poured in while Timmy’s subscribers and confidence grew. By the end of the week, Timmy decided to shift from Xenophage, the pop culture guy, to Xenophage, the challenge guy. It wasn’t a quick shift, however. He still had a passion for his hobbies and loved to talk about them. On the other hand, Timmy also really desired fame, and so far, had come to see two potential paths ahead of him. The quick path was challenge videos, of course. He knew it could be more humiliating and physically draining, my God, what a large audience he could amass.

At first, he thought that he could direct his large audience from the challenge videos to his other videos. It was a valid idea, but things just didn’t work that way. Most of that audience just wanted to watch the random chaos that came from a wacky challenge.

6 months into this new way of doing things, Timmy had eaten plenty of disgusting and spicy foods, trespassed in a couple of places for an overnight challenge, and even sustained a few injuries. In his mind, this had all been worth it. He’d grown his subscribers to a number he could only previously dreamt of, and felt that in spite of it not being the path he originally envisioned, he was finally somebody.

In the present time, Timmy was continuing on with his recording.

“I was scrolling through the comments on my latest challenge last night and came across some joker who suggested I do a challenge he referred to as ‘solo hide & seek’. Confused as I was? Well, since we are deep into October, I’m going to entertain this and elaborate. I looked it up, and it turns out that it’s some kind of ritual where you try to play hide and seek with a spirit. What a sack of bullshit! Of course, I will be taking it on for my next video. Why? Because your boy is never one to turn down a challenge, no matter how corny. Let’s get spooky!”

Later that evening, Timmy sat hunched over his computer desk, further researching the challenge, while creating a list of supplies. The instructions stated that the first thing that he’d need is a doll that he was to give a name to. He would then have to cut the doll open, remove the stuffing, insert a mix of rice and his own fingernail clippings, and sew it back up with red thread. From that point, he’d have to declare 3 times that it was his turn first while closing his eyes. After that, he’d have to place the doll in the tub, and it was game on.

Timmy did not believe in any sort of paranormal things, but he felt uneasy as he made his way to the end of his research. At the bottom of the instructions was a long list of bold warnings. There were a lot of things that you should not do, with a heavy focus on the dangers involved in doing any sort of spirit ritual like this.

While in bed that night, Timmy had a horrifying nightmare about a doll slowly creeping down his hallway. It would lift its small hand to its head while searching in various doorways. In the doll’s other hand, a knife. When it reached the end of the hallway, it slowly tilted its head back and began to bleed from its eyes while letting out a blood-curdling scream.

Timmy awoke in terror. Sweaty and panicked, he turned to check the phone: 3:00 am. This had to be a coincidence, he thought. He’d been focused on research for hours before bed. Of course, there was the potential for a nightmare. He shook it off and tried his best to drift off to sleep. He thought of his grandparents, warm cookies, his pets, and his adoring fans. After a few minutes, the mission was accomplished. Timmy was back in a deep sleep.

On his way to school the next morning, Timmy continued to think about his upcoming challenge. It was hard not to. Outside, there was a chill in the air, and the town was all decked out for the season. Lawns were littered with webs and other types of creepy decor. Bradbury was already a very unsettling place, and the Fall was just the icing on the creepy-ass cake.

At lunch that afternoon, Timmy spoke with his good friend Gary. There weren’t many people that Timmy felt he had a real connection with, but Gary was solid company. They grew up together, shared many interests, and knew many details about one another. Gary was well aware of Timmy’s online persona and success. He had many thoughts about what his pal was up to, but rarely ever shared them for fear of coming off sounding insensitive.

“Thoughts?” Gary wondered.

“Huh?” Timmy’s mind was elsewhere.

“I said, did you watch Detective Danger last night? Dude, the estranged daughter showed up? Who ended up being a cyborg? Holy shit!”

Timmy swirled his peas around a bit with his fork before replying, “No, I was busy researching a challenge. Thanks for the spoilers, though.”

“Oh, sorry. I just assumed you’d be glued to the screen for this one. To be fair, Detective Danger gets up to way more cool shit beyond what I just mentioned. He had quite the evening. Anyway, what’s the challenge this time?” asked Gary, right before stuffing a nugget into his mouth.

Timmy hesitated a bit at first. He was feeling both a mix of embarrassment and fear. Eventually, he muttered, “It’s gonna sound real silly, but it was a fan suggestion and I think it could bring new eyes to the channel. I’m doing a paranormal ritual. I’m going to try and get an entity to possess a stuffed animal, and the two of us are going to play hide and seek.”

Gary was a bit surprised. This was certainly something that was out of Timmy’s normal realm, yet he knew the lengths his friend was willing to go for an audience and internet points.

He had just one question, “Why, though? I know you’re not a believer in that stuff.”

“Exactly!” Timmy declared, “It will be an easy-peasy challenge for October, and I’ll get tons of views and engagement! It’ll be great!”

Gary took in the information while continuing to scarf down his lunch. He tried to think of a few things to say, yet his mind remained blank. The two friends sat in a prolonged, awkward silence for about a minute.

Timmy polished off the rest of his chocolate milk and offered another thought, “One kinda weird thing, though, I had this crazy nightmare last night. I’m sure it was just because of all the research and prep I was doing before bed. Still, though, I’m having a hard time getting those warnings out of my head. I know it was just a silly wiki page…I just can’t shake this feeling of dread.”

This was a rare moment of honesty from Timmy, at least within the past year or so. Once Xenophage69 really started blowing up, Timmy started growing more and more distant. The internet fame was sudden. It grabbed onto Timmy immediately and gripped tightly. The lines between his personal life and online life blurred. There was an eventual change in the way he spoke and dressed as well. After enough time passed, Gary just figured this was how things were going to be. He remained good friends with Timmy, but would have to accept the new version of his pal if he wanted to continue the relationship.

It was very encouraging to hear his friend’s thoughts. He had a reply readied almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, man. You’ve got a huge, loyal audience. It may disappoint a few people, but everyone will have moved on by the time your next challenge video comes out.”

Timmy looked up in thought for a second, “Sure, it’s just that-”

Before he could continue, SPLAT! A very large and very juicy helping of creamed corn smacked Timmy in the face. He didn’t even have to wipe it from his eyes to figure out who this corny bandit was. Though Timmy wasn’t super popular, he also didn’t have a lot of enemies or bullies. The only one who truly gave him a hard time was Derek the Dick, you know, because he was kind of a dick. He seemed to be driven by pure hate and was capable of some really cruel things.

Timmy wiped the corn from his face while hurling an insult, “Hey Derek, it seems you accidentally hit my face with your meal instead of your trough, you fucking pig!”

Gary’s eyes shifted down to the ground. Timmy sat up a bit straighter; he was pleased with himself. He thought he was quite clever. Derek, however, did not. He made his way closer to Timmy until he was close enough to give a solid push off his seat. That was then followed up with another solid helping of corn and a “fuck you”, before walking away. Gary got up and attempted to help.

“You alright, man?” Gary wondered.

Timmy returned to his seat while wiping away the remaining food.

“Yeah, yeah,” he started, “fuck that guy.”

Gary nodded in agreement.

Timmy continued to clean up while they sat in silence. It quickly dawned on Gary that they were in the middle of an important conversation. He tried to get back on track.

“So anyway, it sounded like you had some thoughts on the challenge?”

Timmy leaned back a bit, trying to exude a confident swagger. His reply was brief.

“You know what? I’m good. I’m going to do it. It’s a stupid fucking internet challenge. Ohhh scary! Watch out for the spooky stuffed animal! Thanks, though.”

Gary nodded silently while letting out a small sigh. The two of them then proceeded to finish up their lunches.

On Timmy’s walk back home from school, he pulled out his cell phone to make a small intro for his new video.

“Hey guys! It’s your boy Xenophage here. I’ve been doing some serious research and prep about this challenge. Tonight, it is on. Not only am I not scared, but I will also totally crush it. I may even have a few laughs along the way. No scary stuffed animal is going to make a fool of me!”

And with that, he stopped the recording and made his way back home. It was a Friday night. Timmy would often still try and carve out some time for his friend Gary on the weekend, but tonight would be different. Timmy prepped and mostly sat anxiously in front of the TV watching horror marathons until it was time to begin. According to the wiki page, he was to wait until 3:00 am, thus providing him with lots of buildup and anticipation.

The stuffed animal that Timmy chose was a stuffed bear that was given to him by his Grandma when he was very young. Timmy loved his Grandma very much. She, of course, loved him very much too and loved to spoil him. Timmy was an only child with very busy parents. His father was often away on business trips, while his mother worked most mornings as a substitute teacher. When not working, she juggled housework, errands around town, and a side hustle where she made keychains. A lot of Timmy’s childhood involved walking to his Grandma’s house after school. They were close and did a lot of fun things together. He watched his first horror film there, ate more cookies than he could’ve ever imagined, and just generally did all the things a kid that age loved to do.

When his Grandma died, Timmy was 13. It absolutely gutted him. He mentally checked out for about a year after that. His parents, still just as busy as ever, tried their best to help, but Timmy mostly needed time and an outlet.

The stuffed bear was Timmy’s most prized possession. It was light brown with a cute little black vest and two button eyes. His Grandma gave the bear to Timmy one evening after he had been having some bad dreams. The bear had been sitting, undisturbed, for years on a shelf. Timmy’s Grandma thought it might be a valuable collectible one day, but after the incident, she thought it would be better suited as a protector.

“Timmy, I’d like to introduce you to Sir Bearington. He will protect you from all the scary monsters and bad dreams. Pretty cool, huh?”

Sir Bearington was now a dark brown bear with a torn vest and one button eye. It still gave him immense comfort, and though it seemed odd that he’d be potentially possessing it, there was no other toy he’d rather share the room with. The bear sat upon the cold bathroom counter as Timmy watched the clock and returned to his camera.

With the simple push of a button, Timmy was rolling and ready to address his fans, “What’s up, guys?! It is now 2:50 am. I’ve got my supplies and a filled bath. In about ten minutes, I’ll be performing the ritual. You may be asking yourselves, does this guy know what he’s messing with? To that I say, ha! Ha, ha, even. If you think your old pal Xenophage69 is afraid of a ‘wittle’ stuffie, then I don’t know what to tell ya. It must be your first day on my channel. In which case, make sure you hit that like button and subscribe for more killer content! Anyway, time for a bit more prep. I’ll check back in when it’s time to begin.”

Timmy set his camera down on the counter and picked up the bear. In his other hand, he grabbed a knife that he had placed nearby. Slowly raising it, he spoke softly to the bear, “Sorry, Mr. Bearington, I’ll stitch you right back up.”

In one swift motion, Timmy cut open the bear. Then he removed the stuffing and filled it with some of his nail clippings and rice, as instructed by the website. The next step was to sew the bear back up with red thread. He’d watched YouTube tutorials on sewing in the few days leading up to the challenge and luckily had absorbed enough knowledge to do so. When he was finished, he wrapped any of the remaining string around the bear. This was supposed to ‘bind’ the spirit. With the bath full and stuffed animal prepped, Timmy turned his camera back on.

Before addressing his audience, he turned the night-vision setting on. Another component of this challenge was complete darkness, aside from a lone TV tuned to static.

“What’s up, everyone? It is now 2:59 am, the lights are off, and it’s now or never. Time to dunk this bitch and start the game.”

Timmy grasped the bear tightly. He gave it one last look before chanting, “first tagger is Timmy, first tagger is Timmy, first tagger is Timmy.”.

And with that, Timmy dunked the bear and left the room so he could find a place to start counting down from 10. The instructions specifically said not to look back. Doing so would run the risk of causing the spirit to get angry and attack. Timmy was very curious and still had a hard time believing all this, but as he scurried down towards the end of his hallway, he didn’t look back. He leaned his head up against a random spot on the hall wall and started to slowly count down. When he reached zero, he went to look for the bear. As he anticipated, it was still inside the tub.

“I found you, Sir Bearington!” shouted Timmy.

He then proceeded to stab the bear with a knife. It was now time for the bear to find him.

With his eyes closed tight, he chanted: “It is now Sir Bearington’s turn, it is now Sir Bearington’s turn, it is now Sir Bearington’s turn!”

The next part of the instructions, Timmy found to be very bizarre. He was to keep salt water in his mouth for the remainder of the game and by no means swallow it until he was ready to end the ritual.

Timmy decided he’d pick the closet as his hiding place, as it was the first location that came to him, and he knew there was plenty inside to potentially cover himself strategically with. Would that really be required, he wondered to himself. He was starting to think this was really insane. The reality of the situation was hitting him, and he felt a bit foolish. Without another thought, though, he turned on his camera and tried to gesture to his mouth, indicating to his audience that he could not speak, but would still be showing as much of the process as possible. His eyes darted back and forth between the forward-facing LCD screen of his camera to random dark areas of the closet. With his free, non-camera hand, he clasped a nearby blanket. It wasn’t much other than a small feeling of security. He was sure that if spirits were real, blankets probably wouldn’t deter them.

A couple of minutes into his hiding, he had to set the camera down on a nearby stack of storage containers against the back closet wall. His whole arm started to itch, then burn. It felt like there were hundreds of fire ants crawling all over his skin. He wanted to scream and scratch, but he also wanted to remain as still and silent as possible. Sweat started to drip from his forehead as the sensation moved up from his arm to his shoulders and neck. This had to just be some weird psychological trick, he thought. He looked into the camera and tried to gesture with his arm. It was very difficult for Timmy to communicate with his audience without the use of his favorite tool. It was a messy series of head nods and eye shifting, which he knew probably looked ridiculous, yet better than no footage at all, he thought.

The sensations built to a crescendo, and just when he thought he could no longer take it, there was a sudden sound of a distant creaking noise from the other room. All at once, the itching and burning went away, and Timmy’s focus shifted. The noise was followed by more creaks and the sounds of various drawers opening and closing. Timmy’s face went pale while he continued to roll footage and act like the situation wasn’t as creepy as it actually was. He listened intently to the sounds. It still sounded like lots of searching going on; things moving, small cabinet doors opening, those types of things. Timmy tried to remain rational about this. No one was home, but perhaps he was being pranked. It could be someone from school who knew about the channel and challenge, he thought.

The noises continued as he sat frozen in fear and thought. If this were someone playing a prank, they would’ve had to have access to the garage or just broken in. That seemed extreme, but if not that, then was it really a spirit? Timmy strategically pulled down some clothes and the small blanket he had been grasping to put over himself. He kept a small opening for air and the ability to still listen.

He continued to track the sounds from the other room while attempting to make himself as tiny as possible. The noises shifted back into the main hallway. They grew louder and louder until it finally sounded like the bedroom door started opening. Timmy tensed his whole body up. Whatever was out there was coming straight towards him.

The next noises that Timmy could clearly hear were the sounds of scratching from outside the door. The camera continued to roll while sitting on the storage containers. He’d not even thought of picking it back up, feeling that he’d have to be prepared and would need both his hands free for whatever could arise. He tried hard to keep his breathing silent. The combo of the small space and clothes-based hiding spot made things very uncomfortable, though. Sweat continued down his forehead as the scratches made their way toward the closet. They inched closer to Timmy’s location until suddenly stopping completely.

Timmy thought that this was it. If he’d summoned a spirit, this was the end of the game. He’d been found. He expected that next the doors would slide open, but instead, a familiar voice.

“Timmy? It’s me, Grandma.”

This sent chills down Timmy’s spine. It sounded exactly like his Grandma, but he knew that couldn’t be possible.

“Please come out of there, Timmy! You’ve been so distant lately. Don’t you have any time for me anymore? Remember that wonderful afternoon in the pumpkin patch?”

Even if Timmy wanted to scream and run away, both those options would be off the table since he was completely overwhelmed and frozen with dread.

New sounds started from just outside the door. There was a low groan that lasted for five seconds, followed by a series of taps. The taps started just outside the closet, on the wall. They traveled slowly and methodically over to the closet door.

The nasty sweat continued, some getting in his eyes as he attempted to wiggle some extremities to try and unfreeze himself while also contemplating an exit strategy. The instructions stated that if found by the possessed object, the hider would be stabbed by the object originally used to stab it. There was also a risk of possession of the hider by the spirit.

To make sure this didn’t happen, Timmy thought that he’d somehow have to see the bear before it saw him. He didn’t want to believe it, but if that door suddenly swung open, that could be it. He decided that the only thing he really could do was try to build the clothes up to make a decoy pile and slide himself stealthily to the other side of the closet. From there, he could attempt a sneak attack from the side. This was assuming that the entity decided to stick to one side and was somewhat able to be tricked. He listened intently to the taps and was sure they were still coming from the side that he was currently on.

Moving as quickly and as quietly as he could, Timmy started by shoving all of the layers enveloping him into their own body-shaped pile. Next, he picked up his camera and got into a ready position. He listened for any sort of possible signal that the entity was about to slide open the door. After about a minute of steady tapping, there was silence. This was it.

Timmy took a breath. It was now or never, he thought. In one swift motion, he waddled to the other side, keeping one hand on the camera and the other on his closet door. As he reached the other door, he realized that his assumptions were correct. The other door in front of his previous position was starting to slide open. The race was on as Timmy quickly started opening his door. When he had enough space for his head, he quickly popped it out and swallowed the salt water.

To his shock, the bear was still upright with one hand on the door. It was still in the act of slowly sliding open the door and searching. Timmy, now fully out of the closet, used this window to pin the bear down.

“Ha! I won!” Timmy shouted as he reached for his remaining salt water, still using his foot to keep the bear down.

To end the ritual, Timmy circled the bear with the rest of the water. He took one last look at the bear before closing his eyes and chanting, “I win!” three times.

After ending the ritual, Timmy picked up his camera to record a quick outro for his audience.

“Hey guys, it’s your boy Xenophage again. I just finished the solo hide-and-seek challenge, and I just wanted to put a warning out there. You should not mess with this stuff. It’s not worth it. I’ll have more info later, but I just needed to get that out. Oh, and your boy totally crushed it! Xenophage69 out baby!”

-Epilogue-

Timmy awoke late the next morning to the sounds of birds and the smells of coffee and bacon. His folks were sitting at the table conversing while his dad read the paper and his mother enjoyed her coffee. He’d made it. After all that fear and excitement, he’d actually made it. He breathed a sigh of relief as he got up, put on his robe, and made his way into the kitchen.

When he arrived, his parents were mid-conversation. He waited for a lull before popping in with “Morning. When did you guys get in? I didn’t hear a thing.”

To his surprise, they continued to face each other and say nothing.

“Hello?” Timmy asked, wondering what this was about.

His father closed the paper and went over to the sink to start some dishes while starting up another discussion with Timmy’s mother.

“It sure is late. Did Timmy stay at a friend’s house last night?”

His mother looked up in thought for a second, “Hm, not that I’m aware of. Maybe he had a long night. You know how he is with that video channel.”

Timmy tried one more desperate plea, but still his parents did not turn towards him. He started walking in the direction of his father. This had to be some kind of prank. It was the only rational thing that Timmy could come up with. His dad was still turned in the direction of the sink when Timmy approached.

“Dad!” Timmy shouted.

He attempted to tap on his shoulder; however, instead of touching his shoulder, Timmy’s hands passed right through.

Suddenly, Timmy’s eyes grew wide and his stomach turned. It was starting to hit him. He was no longer “here”.

After a few hours, Timmy’s parents started to panic. They looked all around the house, called multiple people who may have had information, and yet still had no answers.

Days passed, his parents continued, not giving up hope. They, and a large group of community members, continued search efforts. Timmy’s mom made desperate pleas to the local media, “Timmy, if you are seeing this, we love and miss you so much. We won’t stop searching!”. Timmy was watching; he saw everything, but there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.

After a few weeks, the search efforts had started to die down, and Timmy’s folks became drained. They walked around the house like zombies, either burying their heads in various vices or desperately searching for any type of clue that could give them any idea about their son’s whereabouts.

One late evening, Timmy’s dad was having one of his desperate searching type of nights. He rummaged through Timmy’s bedroom for what was now the 50th time. He fumbled through drawers, looked under the bed, and all over the closet. Suddenly, an item on Timmy’s nightstand caught his eye: the camera. He’d passed it many times, yet for some reason, never thought to check it for any clues. Quickly, his father grabbed the camera, opened the LED screen, and checked out some footage. Minutes into watching, he started getting sick to his stomach. He closed the viewfinder for a moment and called loudly down the hall, “Hun? Hunny?! I found something that you’re going to want to take a look at.”

THE END

VIDEO VERSION COMING SOON!

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This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

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Episode 201 – Fears

Summary

In this Season 5 premiere episode, I’m joined by special guest/my sister, Jaime Jones. We discuss all things fears: rational fears, irrational ones, childhood fears, and fears we currently have.

Strap in tight. It’s that time of year again. Let’s get spooky!

Music: Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio

*UPDATE 10/26* – Now with improved audio!

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This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support

Episode 200 – The Quest For 200

Summary

After struggling to come up with ideas and experiencing some eerie visions of death, I decided to ask some friends for some help.

This episode features many surprise guests that I don’t want to spoil here, but I encourage you to listen through to the end to hear the full credits.

Music provided by:

Storyblocks &

Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio

Video:

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This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support