Lighthouse Horror Podcast - The puppet on set COMES ALIVE at night | Scary Stories

Episode Date: August 24, 2024

Something is very wrong with this puppet... Scary Story exclusively written for the channel by Alonso Solis Cover Art from Ninerio More of the artist’s works at ninerioarts            ��    Original YouTube link: The puppet on set COMES ALIVE at night   Merch: lighthousehorror.shop  For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

Do not let your kids watch the Mr. Smiley show. I've always had a knack for making bad decisions, but this time I might have outdone myself. My name is Dennis, and I used to be a washed up TV producer. After a series of flops, my career was on very thin ice, but desperation breeds creativity. Or, in my case, a complete lack of common sense. The idea hit me one Thursday as I was cleaning up a pile of bills and empty pizza boxes. I needed a hit. Something cheap to produce, but catchy enough to go viral.

And then it struck me. A children's TV show. The merchandising opportunities alone would be a money printer. But it can't just be any show. This, it needed to be something really unique, something that would stand out. I spent the next few weeks hold up in my cramped apartment. I lived on a diet of desperation and instant coffee. Okay, so my concept was simple.

The Mr. Smiley Show. It'd be a show where toys come to life, teaching kids about friendship and all that good stuff. It sounded decent enough too. But the twist in the execution. You know, I wanted this to have an edge, something to make it very memorable. And that's when I found the puppet.

I saw Mr. Smiley on a dusty shelf in the back of a local thrift store. At first glance, he seemed like any other puppet. He had a colorful outfit and big, glassy eyes. But it was his big grin that caught my attention. It stretched across his face in a way that felt, well, if I'm being honest, unsettling. Yet there was something about him, you know, I couldn't resist. He was memorable, all right. I saw the potential in Mr. Smiley. Kids these days, you know, they want something with bite, something that makes him feel like adults. I'd found my star. But as I paid for him, the cashier

gave me a look. It was as if she wanted to say something about Mr. Smiley, but decided against it. I didn't care. I was just excited about the possibilities. This puppet could be the breakthrough I needed, a character that would capture my audience in a way that no other props can. It was my way back into the limelight. That's what I deserved, you know, after all those sleepless nights. The Mr. Smiley Show was green-lit immediately.

I knew the big studios would never go for something like this. That's fine. They can keep their boring, sugary crap. Instead, I went to this indie production house. They needed a breakthrough just as much as I did. But it was going to be on my terms. I needed full creative control to turn Mr. Smiling into an icon. The first day of production started smoothly enough.

We had the first scripts and the theme song worked out, but it didn't take long for things to go south. It began with the light. They flickered like a storm was raging outside. We all joked about it, saying no wonder our paychecks were late if the studio couldn't even keep the lights on. Hey, we were working on a tight budget. But next came the equipment malfunctions.

that were perfectly fine one minute refused to turn on the next. Full batteries ran out of juice after just five minutes of shooting. And then the edits, I'd spend hours cutting scenes together, only to find them altered the next day. It was like the footage had a mind of its own. Scenes in dialogue would show up that we never shot. Even the actors noticed. They swore they never performed some of the lines that appeared. The crew started joking about the ghost director. But the laughter died quickly when we realized how much work we were losing. I tried to brush it off. Technical difficulties were normal in the business.

But the food. It was the worst of it. My God, the food. It started small. Coffee would turn sour. Bagels would mold after an hour. We'd open our box to lunches to find the food had already rotted away. Even the packed lunches people brought from home weren't safe. The smell.

My God, it was horrible. It smelled so bad. It clung to your clothes and hair. Complaints for it. from the crew grew louder each day, and I couldn't blame them. I remember one incident vividly. We just received a new batch of food trays, inspected and cleared by the caterers themselves. Yet within hours the food was swarming with maggots and flies, the sight of them crawling

through the meat. It was enough to make one of my cameraman duck for the nearest bucket. The caterers were shocked. They insisted the food had been fresh when they brought it in, but the evidence was right there, decaying before our very eyes. Everyone chose to go out for lunches after that, which of course meant more delays in shooting. We fired the caterer, of course, but not before they spread the rumor that the set was cursed. The morale on set plummeted. production was turning into a nightmare faster than I could handle.

Not even a pack of cigarettes could calm my nerves. As the days wore on, I found a strange comfort in talking to Mr. Smiley. It was after a very tough day at the studio that I started venting to the puppet. You would not believe the day I've had, I said. Yes, I know it sounds crazy. talking to a puppet like an old friend. But you haven't seen this puppet. Mr. Smiley, he's different.

He always listens, never interrupts me, and he always smiles. The weirdest part, I started feeling like he understood me. One night after I finished ranting about the latest disaster, Mr. Smiley, he seemed to nod. I swear it. I laughed at myself for being so fried that I was seeing things. But then things that got even weirder.

The next day, one of the problems I'd vented about, it just fixed itself, like Mr. Smiley had waved a magic wand. Probably a coincidence, but in all the chaos, I'll take it. Mr. Smiley, he became a lucky charm, and my friend. But rumors began to spread among the crew. Everyone's nerves were fraying at the edges. The showrunner talking to a creepy puppet was the rotten cherry on top. Some of the staff, they started avoiding me. Others talked about leaving the show altogether. I told them they were worrying about nothing. This show, it was going to save our jobs. It was going to save our lives.

I poured everything into this show my whole life. I wanted to make something bigger than myself. I wanted a legacy. I began to resent the crew. They couldn't see the vision I had. My nights became a blur of rehearsals and conversations with Mr. Smiley. I was convinced that if I could just make this work, everything would change. And I was right.

The show took off faster than I possibly could have imagined. It wasn't just a hit. It was a phenomenon. Kids loved Mr. Smiley. Parents thought he was creepy. But that didn't matter as long as they poured money into our bank accounts. Merch flew out the shelves. Shirts, toys, posters, you name it.

They couldn't get enough of them. Then praise started flowing in. Critics, they were singing my praise. I was hailed as a genius. I was the man who'd brought something truly unique to children's TV. And with it, it came more money that I'd ever seen in my entire career. Calls started pouring in. Entorsement deals, broadcasting rights, even afloat at Macy's Thanksgiving parade. After years of struggling, I was finally getting the recognition I deserved. The success of the show, it had proven to everyone that I still had what it takes. I could walk down the street right now and see a kid with Mr. Smiley on their lunchbox.

But as the raining skyrocketed, I found my son. I was having more and more time alone writing scripts. The entertainment world is tough, you know. I was used to have indoors slammed in my face. I knew there was only one way to survive, and that was to do anything to stand out. Anything. It started small, almost unnoticed. The skits and jokes I wrote with Mr. Smiley, they became darker.

The kids noticed before I did. But eventually, I started getting emails from parents. They were concerned about the strange dreams their kids were having. Dreams about Mr. Smiley sitting on the edge of their bed, talking to them, telling them things no kid should hear. I'll be honest. I didn't really care at first. Nightmares, what kid doesn't have him, you know.

But more and more emails arrived. They were all about kids screaming themselves awake in the middle of the night. The parents blamed me, of course. No one wants their five-year-old to be crying their head off when you have to work the next morning. But really, what could I do? Mr. Smiley was bigger than ever. I can't change the entire show just because some toddler was having a tantrum.

Look, don't judge me, okay? At the end of the day, ratings were what is most important. Lots of people work on this show. They need me to keep this going, and I need to keep this going. And then the email that changed everything. I was already on edge the day it came in. The subject line caught my eye immediately. I'm suing you, made a red.

My heart was racing at that. It was from someone named Lauren, a mother out in Wisconsin. She blamed Mr. Smiley for her kid's behavior. She said the puppet sent her kid to the hospital. I had to read that twice to figure out what she was saying. The mom wrote that her son Kevin was watching the show one Saturday. He was laughing and talking to Mr. Smiley, as if he were right there in the room. Kind of weird, I thought, but hey, kids play pretend all the time.

But then as soon as the show finished, Kevin ran out to the backyard. He was five years old and shouldn't have been able to open the locked sliding doors. Before she could stop him, the boy started shoveling dirt into his mouth, just hands full of dirt and mud as he sobbed uncontrollably. He was crying and saying that Mr. Smiley told him to do it, that it was the only way they could play together forever. Relax, relax, okay? The mom managed to calm him down before he choked on something.

And when she took him to the ER, doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong. aside from having a stomach full of worms and potting mix. And of course, little Kevin can't stop crying about Mr. Smiling. They had to sedate him when he started biting the nurses. Would you believe that she blamed me for all of it? She was flying over my studio to serve me the papers personally. It would have been easy enough to dismiss the whole thing. Who would believe the ramblings of some kindergartner?

But this bitch had emailed every top dog in the studio she could. The board was furious, and the producers were scrambling to keep this from the press. They called me in for an emergency meeting. I tried to laugh it off. Guys, guys, it's just some kid's overactive imagination. Okay. The show only got as big as it did, because it's edgy, you know that. People need to get a grip, I told them. But the decision had already been made. As the complaints kept piling up, they'd have no choice but to cancel my show. On the other hand, they didn't want to lose their biggest cash cow.

A rebranding was the way to go. They wanted to start fresh with a spin-off, pushing me and Mr. Smiley completely out of the picture. They believed a new crew in a different direction would save them. You know, in TV, I should have known this wasn't about the kid. It doesn't matter whether or not it is. That's fine. If this Lauren went public with this, the media frenzy could destroy everyone's career. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

My vision, my show, being pulled out from under me. You guys are making a huge mistake. And I said, Mr. Smiley is the heart of the show. Without him, there's no show at all, idiots. And the decision was final. The studio had everything they already needed from me. And you cannot believe the The betrayal I felt at this.

I was going to lose everything I worked for. Without another word, I stalked out of the meeting room my mind racing. The injustice of it all consumed me. They didn't understand. They couldn't see what Mr. Smiley brought to the show to the audience. In that moment, all I could think about was proving them wrong. I fumed in my office, thinking about how I could save this show. The puppet was on my desk, his grin as wide as ever.

I sat there, looking at Mr. Smiley. I had everything right now, fame, fortune, respect. The thought of losing all that again. It made my stomach drop. They just don't see the bigger picture like I do. Isn't that right, Mr. Smiley? But we'll prove him wrong. I said, and just like the old days, he gave me a tiny nod. The next few days were tense. Every morning, I'd sit at my desk and turn on the paper shredder. Waiting for me was an ever-growing pile of angry letters, petitions, and email.

They were from concerned teachers, upset parents, and even my fellow producers, all of them voicing their concerns about the show. But I found it easy to ignore them. The only thing that mattered to me were those ratings and they were better than ever. More and more people were watching with each episode. Wasn't just toddlers now. Mr. Smiley has kids of all ages eating out of the palm of his fuzzy hands. The buzz around Mr. Smiley and the show, it was undeniable.

It didn't matter what the parents said. The numbers did not lie. As long as those stayed high, everything, it was going to be fine. After all, if the show was so bad, why were people still watching? And it wouldn't have been possible without all the work I put into it. I'd churn out scripts week after week. I'd be the first on set every filming day and you better believe it I was the last to leave. I fought with actors when they went off script and of course Mr. Smiley was there with me

every step of the way. As long as we kept this momentum going, the execs couldn't pull. Pull the plug, I needed everything to be perfect, to the point that I also started going through newly shot footage myself. It was during a run-through of the latest episode that I saw them for the first time. There were faces in the background of a shot. Children's faces that shouldn't have been there. I was pissed.

The crew weren't allowed to bring their kids in. during filming, come on. I told the editors that they needed to remove those faces immediately. But they all just looked back at me, confused. I pointed at the screen. There was a row of kids clearly behind Mr. Smiley. But their confusion only grew. There was nothing there, they said.

Nothing but a blank wall. I couldn't believe it. The faces were as clear as day to me. This had to be a joke. As I stared at the footage, the kids continued to smile. Their mouths were wide, stretching across their faces. Their eyes were wide open, too, almost bulging, fixed on the camera. The most disturbing part,

It was how their heads moved. They bopped along to the theme song in a rhythm. But the way their heads moved was too precise, too perfect, almost like puppets. I mean, couldn't the editors see this? I pointed to one of the faces in particular, a blonde little boy in a red sweater. he was the most rambunctious of the kids, waving his arms and jumping up and down to the music. In a burst of anger,

I accused the editors of sabotaging the show, and their denials only fueled my rage. I did not believe that they couldn't see the children I was pointing at. So I fired him on the spot. It was a rash decision. but look in my mind, there was no excuse for this behavior. They had to go. Even if it meant I had to scramble to find replacements,

the show could not afford mistakes like this. The atmosphere on set changed a lot after that. The remaining crew started to keep their distance from me. A few even resigned. They cited a hostile work environment. meant as their reason. I did feel a little guilty, yes, but I convinced myself that making tough decisions was part of success.

Worse still, the faces in the background, they never went away. I went through rolls of footage. There was one afternoon where I locked myself in the studio alone to edit the damn clips myself, but they were still there. No matter what I did, the kids were in almost every shot, bopping their heads to the music. That was my life for the next few weeks. I began losing sleep over it, but none of that prepared me for what came next. I walked into work that day, expecting the usual.

Instead, security was holding down a woman. She was rabid. demanding to see me. When I got closer, the woman screamed louder. Tears streamed down her face, but her anger was unmistakable. She fought against the bouncers, cursing at me. She said I was the reason her Kevin vanished. She shoved a photo in my face, and that's when I saw it.

It was the blonde little boy from the footage. The one in the red sweater. Before I could even process it all, she slapped me. It's all your fault, she said. My Kevin ran away because of you. The cops arrive soon after that. They took her away. I told them I'm not going to press charges.

I don't want anything to do with that woman. I just want to make her go away. Try as I might, though. I couldn't forget her words. I locked myself in my office, head pounding. I can't ignore this anymore. Those letters, emails, I need to know what the hell is actually going on.

I fired up my computer. I looked for cases of kids going missing recently. Kevin's name. popped up immediately. A five-year-old from Wisconsin, who disappeared from the psychiatric ward he was staying at. The article didn't mention why he was in there, but I could take a guess. No one knows how it happened, but they discovered that their restraints holding him down had been chewed through.

My hands started shaking as I read. The report mentioned. that Kevin is the latest disappearance in a disturbing trend that was happening all across the country. At first, people didn't think the disappearances were related. That is until someone figured out that they all happened at around 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Right when Mr. Smiley was on. No matter the time zone, no matter the state, a couple kids, they would just vanish.

Parents had started pulling their kids from school in the afternoons. They'd keep their houses completely locked up, not letting their kids out of their sight. But even that didn't help. Some parents swore they only turned their heads for a second, and then their kid was gone. and one by one, the faces of the missing children appeared on my screen. Each photo was a punch to the gut. I recognized them. They were all the same faces that had been showing up in my footage for weeks.

The realization hit me like a wave, and I couldn't breathe. This can't be a coincidence. These were real kids, children who had families searching for them. And somehow their faces had ended up in our show's footage, staring back at me. I tried to find a logical explanation. Maybe someone, I don't know, maybe this is a sick joke, inserting those images into our footage as some sort of twisted message. But the more I thought about it, the less it made any sense.

My life had changed since the show boomed. People on the street recognized me, respected me. My bank account had ballooned beyond my wildest dreams. I thought back to the days before Mr. Smiley when I was barely scraping by. Now, I was living my dreams out in real time. Mr. Smiley had given me everything I ever wanted. But at what cost? The thought of going to the authorities terrified me.

I didn't want to be linked to any of those disappearances. I looked over at Mr. Smiley, staring at me from my desk. I searched his big, glassy eyes for answers. I was stuck between two. options. I could either continue with the show earning more money than I ever imagined, or I could end it all with that damn puppet. No more Mr. Smiley, no more missing kids. It should have been an easy choice, but the idea of having to lose it all was tougher to accept than expected. And then suddenly, the thought, the thought,

fire alarm went off. The smell of smoke hit me, and I heard loud banging on the doors down the hall. People were rushing past my office now, shouting about a fire. My heart pounded. I had to make a decision quickly. I could leave the puppet here. I could let it burn in the fire. That would end everything. All the questions, all the doubts, all the missing cases. All the missing But as the flames grew closer, a part of me couldn't let it go. It's just a puppet. You know, this is crazy. It's just a puppet. The smoke grew thick. I could see the flames spreading down the hallway as I looked outside. The heat was unbearable now. I glanced down at the puppet in my hands.

and I knew what I had to do. I tucked it into the crook of my arm, and I ran. Standing outside with the rest of the casting crew, I watched as the studio building went up in flames. Everything we'd worked for, gone. I saw some crew crying.

I bet for many of them this was the last straw. The fire department came out soon after. I heard one of the set designers mentioned the mother from this morning. She was spotted in the back lot after the police took her away. No one knows where she is now. I decided to hightail my way out of there before reporters came to me. As I walked away from the building, I heard something. I heard Mr. Smiley.

laughing. That's the last thing I remembered from that day. Even with all the controversy, the show was still making a ton of money. We built a new studio right on top of the old one, and I held onto my job through all of it. Afternoon lockdowns became the norm for kids everywhere. It's a dark time, but through it all, Mr. Smiley was right there. on the dot to cheer up everyone who stuck at home. But then more disappearances happened. And every night, I see their faces in the footage, faces that nobody else seems to see.

I tell myself it's just a coincidence. But deep down, I don't know. As for the producers, many of them left after the, the fire. I heard one of them got into a car accident soon after. Another moved halfway across the country and cut contact with the rest of us. Good riddance. The new ones are more my style. They understand my vision. They didn't care about any of the emails. To them, Mr. Smiley was a one-way ticket to early retirement and a vacation home in the Bahamas. Besides, it's not like there's a lawsuit a good lawyer can't fix.

We had money for anything now. But when everyone's gone home and it's just me locking up, I hear things, whispers, giggles, footsteps, but I don't care. I'd rather stay up all night than deal with the dreams. Every night those kids visit me. They don't say anything. I just see them smile and move their heads to the music. Their eyes are terrified.

They look like they're pleading with me, and new faces show up every night. Even ones that the news never finds out about. There's another thing, too. As the studio burned down, I overheard. some of the old stage hands talking. They were industry dinosaurs, been around longer than anyone. And they were talking about how they couldn't believe this was happening again. So I went looking until I found an old news article online. Fifty years ago, another indie studio was producing a puppet show, but the studio burned down before it aired. Most of the studio,

Most of the crew died in the fire. But what caught my attention was that it wasn't just the crew that was trapped in the building. You see, the show was supposed to have a live studio audience. They'd brought in some school kids to film the premiere. The article didn't provide many details, but it did mention that only one thing survived that fire. A puppet.