The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 127 : I Hear A Studio Audience // Stud Finder Product Review ***

Episode Date: May 27, 2026

Lot 127 : I Hear A Studio Audience // Stud Finder Product Review ***   I Hear A Studio Audience Consigned by Manen Lyset Starring Addison Peacock Kevin Seaman   Stud Finder Product Review *** Consigned by Chris Hicks Starring Jarret Griffis   Many thanks for patronizing our curious little establishment through the Rocket Money and Shopify links below. Your continued support helps keep the lamps lit and the shelves full of peculiar treasures. We are most grateful. Rocket Money: http://rocketmoney.com/SINISTER Shopify: https://www.shopify.com/tash   Theme music by The Newton Brothers   Produced by Kevin Seaman   Additional music by CO.AG ([e-mail])   Clement Panchout   Vivek Abhishek   SUBSCRIBE to them on YOUTUBE: / vivekhsihba   LIKE them on FACEBOOK:  https://rb.gy/nhgn0i Follow them on Spotify/ iTunes/ Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/rxdcjqt Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

The following lot contains descriptions of animal violence. Visitor discretion is advised. For an ad-free experience, visit the obsidian covenant.com. U equals... Ah, a familiar face among unfamiliar things. Oh, those little wishing branches. Hmm, yes. We stopped displaying them near the register after the incident.

But, tonight's acquisition arrived in two separate containers, from two separate consigners, delivered three days apart by couriers who insist they never entered the shop at all. Curious that. First up, a heavily damaged commuter bike, following a traffic accident in late August of last year. It's been placed in long-term storage after repeated complaints. from staff regarding persistent noises that seem to follow it. Attempts to discard the item have proven unsuccessful. Take a ride with this one called,

I hear a studio audience at all times, and they're getting creepier. Before we begin, I want to point out some of the customers whose names have been etched in brass on this beautiful plaque I had made above the... the front desk. These are some of the members of the inner circle of the antiquarium. We go by the Obsidian Covenant.

Recent initiates include Tim Alves Rules, Maria Perez, Consuelo Babb, Angela Silly, Curtis, and Laurie Ann.

We are ever appreciative of your devotion to the order. Go to theobsidiancovenant.com to receive the sacrament. Sounds harmless enough, right? Welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings and odd goings on. This is going to sound like farce, but ever since I suffered a concussion last summer,

I've been hearing a live studio audience around me, 24-7. The doctors reassured me they were merely auditory hallucinations brought on by the bump to my noggin, and that they'd eventually go away on their own once my brain healed. It was actually kind of funny at first. I mean, once I got over the initial shock and fear of hearing the unsolicited reactions of a bunch of strangers. They started off more entertaining than disturbing, but that balance eventually shifted, and I'm afraid of them now. The very first time it happened was the day I was discharged from the hospital. It was a beautiful August day, and I was psyched to finally go out in the warm sun.

Eric, my boyfriend, picked me up from the hospital to take me back to our apartment. I was in high spirits, despite a persistent headache, which had followed me since the bike accident. Kids, wear your helmets. Eric made a joke, and suddenly a flurry of hysterical laughter came flooding in from every corner of the car. I screamed at Eric to turn off his surround sound system, covering my ears to drown out the noise. But the laughter only got louder. I could tell by the freaked out look in Eric's eyes that he hadn't been playing a practical joke on me. Once the truckles subsided, I explained what happened.

Eric turned the car around and drove me straight back to the medical facility. A brain scan, a few blood tests, and countless hours later, the doctors assured me it was a harmless side effect of the concussion, and not a case of sudden onset schizophrenia as I had feared. It was perfectly normal. Well, as normal as hearing a room full of easily entertained spectators could be. They told me to go home and rest. It took me a few days to adjust to the auditory hallucinations. But I eventually started to see the humor in my predicament.

Meetings at work were a lot more entertaining, what with the peanut gallery projecting annoyed groans whenever my boss slipped into a boring tangent. Didn't even have to secretly roll my eyes. The voices in my head were the perfect vessel through which I could express my innermost feelings without getting in trouble. At home, my captive audience laughed at each of my jokes, even when Eric failed to react to the punchline.

When I went to bed, they'd... As I wrapped my arms around Eric, and again, when my cat curled up between us for warmth, the voices even became a sort of early detection system. warning me of unseen dangers through a series of suspenseful gasps. It started going downhill about two months ago when I was taking a shower alone in the apartment. Eric was out of town that night,

and I had this lingering fear that I had forgotten to lock the front door. As I was pouring conditioner into the palm of my hand, I heard the studio audience gasp in fear. It startled me enough that I spilled the coconut-scented beauty product near my feet, My spectators continued to breathe in a stressed manner that suggested I was about to get attacked by a psycho-murdering home invader. I could feel myself tensing up as I stood there naked and unprotected. Thinking I heard footsteps, I took a step back and slipped on the small puddle of conditioner. I remember feeling my feet flying towards the air while my upper body swung towards the floor.

With a sharp pain to the side of my head, everything went black. But the time I came to, the water was running cold. I called my dad, and he brought me to the hospital. I was rewarded with nine stitches to the temple. It's amazing what peer pressure can make you do, even when your peers don't actually exist. In a matter of weeks, my captive audience managed to completely disrupt my life. After the shower incident, it was as though they were no longer on my side.

One morning I was crossing the street when I heard them gasp. I stopped thinking a car was heading my way. Fortunately, the street was empty. Unfortunately, my rapid stop caused me to slip on the ice and break my wrist. They laughed. Several days later, I had an important marketing presentation at work. The studio audience kept making disapproving noise. sometimes booing me, mid-presentation.

It got me so tongue-tied that I messed up the whole sales pitch. The worst was what they did to my relationship with Eric. Whenever we fought, they conveyed to me through... That Eric was a complete scumbag. I'm not even sure what our last fight was about. I think it started with asking him to close the laundry room door. It was such an insignificant little fight, but made worse by the advice and reactions of a bunch of imaginary strangers.

They made me doubt my feelings for him until I finally cut him loose, much to their delight. My relationships with my parents and friends devolved in a similar manner. It was shocking for me to hear what my subconscious mind actually thought about the people that had surrounded me all my life. After a few more incidents at work, my boss fired me. I was left without loved ones, friends, or a job. I felt so isolated despite being accompanied at all times by the voices in my head. Alone in my living room, I drunk-diled my ex, and he came over to cheer me up.

We got back together that night, and it was wonderful. Everything went back to normal after Eric and I rekindled our flame. I still heard the constant and distracting. laugh track, but I tried my hardest to ignore them. I was happy again. And slowly but surely, and then did every bond I'd broken. I even got my old job back. Apparently my boss couldn't handle the workload without me, or so I've been told. For a while, all was right with the world, until long dreadfully. I was half asleep when I heard a knock at the door. I peeked through the window only to find a squad car in the driveway.

My heart stopped, and my faithful audience. I opened the door. But of all the things those cops told me, all I remember hearing was this. I'm sorry, ma'am, there's been an accident. The studio audience roared with laughter and applause. Eric had died. My heart broke, but my spectators continued chuckling wildly. When Eric's casket was lowered into his grave, they laughed even harder.

Tears streamed down the sides of my face, but they did not stop giggling and snickering the whole time. I must be some kind of sick monster, because I can't keep them from laughing whenever I think of him. I just can't get them to stop. A gentle reminder from the Antiquarium. If you ever begin hearing laughter at moments grief should silence a room. Do try to determine whether the joke is actually yours. Now then, the shop must briefly close the floor to customers while the acquisitions department responds to a structural concern

somewhere behind the western walls. Apparently, something down there has started knocking back. I'll return shortly. The knocking has regrettably spread. While the lower corridors are being reinforced, I thought at best we continue the examination of lot one, two, seven. Specifically, the second item. It arrived in an ebony presentation case,

sometime after three in the morning, despite no delivery service appearing on the exterior cameras. It resembles a common handheld stud-finder. As you will soon learn, it is at the center of much more than that. Let's hammer home this constructed tale called StudFinder Product Review, three stars. StudFinder Product Review, three stars. I recently purchased Belfigor's four-in-one deep scanner walled multifunction tool.

Until now, I've never felt the need to ride a bit. you about a product, but this time, well, I'm scratching my head on what to do next. I purchased the stud finder because my wife had some things she needed hanging, picture frames, knick-knacks, and this huge relief sculpture that almost threw my back out when I carried it down to the basement. I wasn't putting off completing this little honey-do list. It was just never a priority. Things pop up. Bigger fixes need fixing, and we never go in the basement anyway. So it's not like a anyone's going to notice the bare walls or the stack of assorted what-nots piled in the corner? She went down to swap out the seasonal decorations from the storage room and found everything still sitting in a pile.

She demanded that I hang everything that night. I did most of it, but being the craftsman that I am, I wouldn't hang the heavier items until the supports were nailed into a wall start. Do the job once and do it right, I always say. This led me to your website in search of a quality stud finder to get this honey-do list, Honey Done. My order arrived within a day of placing. You know, now that I think about it, it didn't even take a full day. I woke up to the chime of the doorbell camera sometime after 3 a.m.

I expected it was those Lawson boys teething our trees again. Oh, kids. But when I got down there, I found the scanner waiting in an exquisite ebony box. I didn't hear a delivery truck, so I can only assume you've converted your fleet to electric. Very nice. It was whisper quiet, like literally. I could hear the faint whispers all around me as I picked up the package from the stoop. I also appreciated that the packaging was made from 98% recycled materials,

even though the primary material listed was skin. This has no impact on the product's performance, but like your electric delivery fleet, it's a nice touch to know that I'm purchasing from a company that cares about the issues I care about. And my wife came downstairs while I was unboxing, wondering what all the commotion was. I turned and showed her the scanner, putting it on my chest.

This thing's broken, there's a stud right here. That's usually good for a laugh, but at 3 a.m., she wasn't much for jokes, or perhaps she was unnerved by the high-pitched shriek when the device touched my skin. This leads to my first nids. pick. Lack of a volume control knob. I can't be too upset since the scanner came with batteries. That saved me from rummaging through the junk drawer for loose triple A's. Nice touch.

She went back to bed. I probably should have as well, but at that moment, I was compelled to go to the basement. I can't quite explain it, but it was almost like the device was pulling me where it needed to go. It pulsed in my hand, throbbing like a beating. heart. I hadn't even touched it to the wall, and it was already leading me to the stunts. Talk about craftsmanship. Wow. Entering the basement led to my next issue with the scanner. My dog Rufus had an adverse reaction to the waves, or beams or whatever electromagnetic energy the scanner was emitting. When I pointed the scanner at him, his barking took on a completely different tone, almost sounding like a human voice speaking a language that I didn't understand. Like,

Something you'd hear from one of those Norwegian death metal bands my nephew's always going on about. He also took a massive shit on the floor, rolling around in it until he was completely covered. The dog, not my nephew. If this is expected, you might want to print a warning somewhere to avoid using it around dogs. Also, small nitpick. Printing the user manual in a language other than ancient Sumerian would be helpful. I placed the scanner on the wall where the wife wanted me to hang the relief sculpture that she bought on vacation in Honduras. I pressed the buttons on the side of the device and slid it against the wall as I watched the indicator.

I was expecting an arrow, an X, or something when I landed on a stud. But instead, the device vibrated wildly in my hand, which I took as a good sign that what I was searching for was right there. I marked the wall and went to my toolbox to get my hammer. I picked it up and squeezed the handle tight to my fist. Even then, I knew it wasn't for the wall. Rufus knew it, too. He crawled over to me, still warbling out that awful bark that called me both with dread and jubilation.

I gave him one last scratch behind the year. He sat before me, head lowered, a calm resignation as he awaited his blood. blessing to become the first sacrifice. He was Bales chosen. I'm pleased to say he didn't suffer. One swing was all it took. Like I always say, do the job once. Do it right. I drained his blood, trying to get out as much as possible. I didn't know how much I would need, as the instructions did not specify how much blood. was required to generate a blood seal to bring forth the true king of hell. I utilized a piece of bone from the hole in Rufus's skull to draw the sigil. Sure, I could have used something else, maybe a pen or a dowel rod, but like Belfigor,

I prefer to recycle as much as possible. My wife was not pleased when she found the mess that I'd made. I don't recall when she found me. Time seemed to move differently now. From the light through the basement window, it had to be late morning when she came down to check on my progress. She was, in a word, shocked. She screamed almost as loudly as the scanner had

when I put it against my chest for the stud-finder joke. That is never not funny. Between her screams and the guttural thrum of black mass reverberating over, and over, wiggling like corpse-eating worms deeper into my brain, well, it's enough to drive a man crazy. At first, I wasn't sure if she was screaming because of the bloody sigil on the wall or Rufus with his skull-caped in. I got up to apologize for my stereotypical male behavior. Fix one thing, leave an even bigger mess behind. As I was standing up, I felt the sting.

in my chest. That was when I remembered carving the symbol of bail into my flesh with the ceremonial knife that I ordered via your mobile app. It arrived within minutes. Kudos to your delivery team. I must have been a sight. Also, I had Rufus's shit-cake skin draped all over my naked body like a cape. I get cold sometimes. Bad circulation runs in my family.

The scanner vibrated on the floor in front of me. It was... Calm at first. But the vibrations grew more violent, bouncing on the ground as if it were in the middle of an earthquake. The unholy voices from within it chanted to me as it spawned pointing to my wife. It slid across the floor and stopped at her feet. The hands-free functionality was a nice, unexpected touch. My wife wasn't as thrilled by the scanner's unique abilities, and...

as I was. She ran screaming up the stairs, all frantic and fearful, clutching her crucifix as she recited the Lord's prayer. The scanner followed, hopping up the stairs and clipping at her heels as she tried to escape. It was quite a sight. The symbol carved in my chest, tugged me in the direction of the scanner, beckoning me to follow. I caught up to my wife on the top stand. I tried to call and tell her how her sacrifice would bring us one step closer to the return of the one true king of hell. But she seemed less thrilled about this than I was. Turns out what caused her to scream the loudest was the ceremonial knife in my hand. She would become the second sacrifice for bail. One given willingly, one taken forcefully. Such is the balance of things. Both were necessary.

And both will be rewarded for the blood they gave to foster the gateway for his return. I spend most of my waking day in the basement now, seated on the floor next to a chair made from the bones of my sacrifices. I don't dare sit in not because of concern over craftsmanship, but because it's not my chair. It's his chair. Bay up my dark king. the one I serve. This leads to my final net day. It's been three weeks,

and although I still hear the voices and whispers tearing at my brain when I stare into the simple, I don't know what to do next to bring about his return. Is there like some sort of incantation I need to do, or do I need more sacrifices? I'm getting deep in the weeds on this,

and I need to know what to do. The lack of detailed instructions in modern language is truly a short-sighted gaffe on the part of the product designers. One thing I've noticed, I want to put the scanner on my chest now, instead of the high-pitched streak from before it, it drums like a heartbeat and pulses one word in vibrant red bladders. Vessel. Including a troubleshooting guide that explains what all the symbols and messages mean would be. immensely helpful. Herein herein lies the quandary.

Without proper instructions, I can't say for certain that the scanner is working as expected. I've returned the extended warranty card in hopes that a translation of the operating instructions can be sent so I can complete the ritual. Because of this, I can only give your product three stars. I look forward to your response. Until then, I sit anointed and awaited by the bloodgate, eager to complete my master summons.

Q N-H-J-A-N-R-W-C-Q-N-F-J-U-N-F-J-U-B-F-J-L-Q-R-W-P. Thank you for your patronage. Hope you enjoyed your new relic as much as I've enjoyed passing along. sorted history. It does come with our usual warning, however. Absolutely no refunds, no exchanges, and we won't be held liable for anything that may or may not occur while the object is in your possession.

If you've got an artifact with mysterious properties, perhaps it's accompanied by a history of bizarre and disturbing circumstances. Maybe you'd be interested in dropping it and its story by the shop to share with other customers. Please reach out to Antiquarium Shop at gmail.com. A member of our team will be in touch. Till next time, we'll be waiting for you whenever you close your eyes. In the space between sleep and dream. During regular business hours, of course, or by appointment, only for you, our best customer right now.

The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings. Lot 127 StudFinder Product Review, Three Stars, Consigned by Chris Hicks, starring Jared Griffiths. I Hear a Studio Audience, Consigned by Manon Lizet, Starring Addison Pee. E. Cock and Kevin Seaman, featuring Stephen Knowles as the antique dealer. Production and sound design by Kevin Seaman. Theme music by the Newton Brothers. Additional music by Coag, Vivek Abyshech, Clement Panchout, Nicholas Redding, and Conan Freeman. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings is created and curated by Trevor and Lauren Shand.

Follow us on Instagram and Twitter at Antiquarium Pod. Call the Antiquarium at 646-481-7197.