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I don't know who you are, Mark I can't I can't no turn that off

Turn the fucking thing off this is over Mark

Wait wait Wait! When I took on this investigation, I thought it would be a fun look into the oddest

corner of collector culture I could imagine.

Maybe it was even my revenge on all those people who outbid me on tales from the Quad Dead Zone on eBay a few years back.

I could sit here and dig into this small group of collectors and judge their hobby or passion or obsession or whatever it is but like most

insular groups of fans and nerds collectors whatever you want to call them the majority of these people are just fun-loving

weirdos like me who just want to know everything about the things they love the most.

But now bad stuff is happening.

Our composer friend, Kat, was in a traffic accident that put her in a coma.

Jacob Manders, the first person I ever talked to who actually knew about the video ballast as the brick and mortar place that it was. He's dead.

Someone broke into our apartment and all of our hard evidence is gone and now Tamra, my partner in crime in all of this.

She's gone too. Out of this investigation and maybe even out of our relationship.

Again, I can't find a way to believe that my investigation or the white tapes could have in any way caused what happened to Cat or to Jacob or even myself.

But as Tamra pointed out, this stuff isn't happening in a bizarre

folklore story about some weird ass video store. It's happening in our lives.

Maybe she's right.

Maybe it's me. It's me. I have a jemma's police.

I'm really sorry about what happened.

...