Transcript of Did Andy Kaufman Fake His Own Death?

In his eulogy, the rabbi describes Andy as "courageous enough to do what he wanted to do, even though it was sometimes risky." His own instincts were the ones he would choose to follow. He'd introduced himself to America in a way that only he can, by lip-syncing the theme from Mighty Mouse on the air during the first episode of Saturday Night Live. The bit is silly, but also a comedic masterclass. The lanky Kaufman makes the audience uncomfortable by acting like he doesn't know the words, then sheds his faux-nervousness for the triumphant chorus.

The producers of the new ABC sitcom Taxi like Foreign Man so much that they hire Andy. They want him to turn the character into an eccentric mechanic named Lotka Gravis. The role makes him a Hollywood star. But instead of parlaying his newfound fame into his own network TV show or a movie career, he uses it to get... weird. Andy is intrigued by the theatricality of professional wrestling, which in those days does not bill itself as scripted.

He starts calling himself "the intergender wrestling champion of the world" and offers women a $1,000 prize if they can pin him. He also sparks what seems like a true feud with pro-wrestler Jerry "The King" Lawler and the grappler's hometown of Memphis, Tennessee. The rivals even face off in the ring. The King doesn't take it easy on Andy either. At one point, Lawler pile-drives the skinny comedian into the mat. The beef climaxes in the summer of 1982 with a joint appearance on Late Night with David Letterman.

That evening, The King attacks Andy with a thunderous slap, and Andy throws a cup of coffee at him. It is, of course, an act. Some of the women Andy takes on in the ring are likely plants, and Andy and Jerry are in cahoots. Now, Andy never admits any of that while he's alive. His public life is an elaborate ruse. It's as if he's designed it to make people question if what they're seeing is real or fake.

Talk about commitment to the bit. Some still believe that Andy Kaufman's death is just another prank he's pulled, and that's been the case since the day he died. That is, allegedly died. At Andy's funeral, his Taxi co-star, Carol Kane, is so unconvinced that he's actually gone that she walks up to his open casket and pokes his body. Even then, she's not certain. And really, how could she be?

After all, there are signs that maybe, just maybe, Andy hasn't left the building. Welcome to Conspiracy Theories, a Spotify podcast. I'm Carter Roy. New episodes come out every Wednesday. We would love to hear from you. So if you're listening on the Spotify app, swipe up and give us your thoughts, or check us out on Instagram @TheConspiracyPod. This episode includes discussions of death.

Consider this one deciding how and when you'll listen. Stay with us.

Gut laughter is where you don't have a choice. You've got to laugh. Gut laughter doesn't come from the intellect. It's much harder for me to evoke now because I'm known. They say, oh, wow, Andy Kaufman, he's a really funny guy. But I'm not trying to be funny. I just want to play with their heads." And boy, is he good at playing with our heads in his allegedly short time on this earth. Andy becomes famous for surprising people.

Sometimes he makes them angry. Sometimes he delights them. Sometimes he confuses them. And yes, sometimes he makes them laugh. He's the world's funniest con man, seemingly capable of fooling any audience or a whole country. Oh, and yes, by the way, Band-Aid on my hand. There was a cat fight in my house. Stupidly, I put my bare hand in there. Don't do that. Got scratched. Went to urgent care, and I am on antibiotics. Or maybe I'm not. Maybe I just put a Band-Aid on.

But the more specific my story, the more real it sounds. And so how do you really know? Did I get scratched? Or is it just a Band-Aid? So what kind of kid grows up to be a unique force of nature like Andy Kaufman? Well, Andrew Jeffrey Kaufman is born on January 17, 1949, in New York City. As a toddler, he loves bopping to music so much that his mother, Janice, sets up a record player by his crib. He spends his childhood in Long Island dancing with his mom.

And from an early age, Andy likes to play pretend. According to Lost in the Fun House, Belle Zemmy's biography of Kaufman, Andy has an imaginary twin brother he names Drupik. He learns that when he's not feeling like himself, he can just become Drupik. This serves him well later. Andy is a natural performer. At four years old, he's acting out his own imaginary television broadcasts.

Like millions of other baby boomers, he watches a lot of TV. And while changing the channels one day, he comes across pro wrestling. It's one of his obsessions. He and his brother Michael practice wrestling moves on each other. One errant headlock sends poor Andy to the hospital. Don't worry, he survives. By the time he's in elementary school, Andy is entertaining other kids at birthday parties by playing guitar and doing magic tricks, inspired by Nigerian musician Babatunde Olatunji's visit to his school.

Andy learns to play the conga drums. Andy's two grandfathers are big influences. He calls Sai, Janice's father, Papu. He dotes on Andy and sings to him. Stanley's father, Paul, is a prankster and a ham. It's Paul who helps introduce Andy to singers like Elvis Presley. Young Andy can move just like Elvis. Andy is clearly very bright. As a teenager, he writes fiction and poetry.

But academics aren't exactly his number one priority. After graduating from Great Neck North High School in 1967, he spends a year working odd jobs. Then he moves to Boston and enrolls at Graham Junior College. He hosts a show on the school's closed-circuit TV station called Uncle Andy's Fun House. It's basically a warped version of a children's program. Andy sits on a rocking chair and reads stories to college students who are playing little kids.

There are also strange puppets, including one that looks and talks like a beatnik. After graduating from college, Andy starts to perform in comedy clubs in New York. He hones his Elvis impression and his Mighty Mouse routine, trying out both on early TV appearances. It's the '70s now, and a budding comedy guru gets turned on to Andy's act. He sees it as a mix of conceptual art and entertainment.

The guru's name is Lorne Michaels. He's the creator of Saturday Night Live. To Lorne, Andy's sense of humor is perfect for his new sketch show. Lorne is particularly fond of the Mighty Mouse gag, saying that it instantly signaled to the brighter part of the audience that this was the kind of show we were going to do. Off the wall, provocative, and not so obvious.

That's early Saturday Night Live. And that's Andy Kaufman. After his SNL debut, he moves to Los Angeles as a regular at the Hollywood Improv. He works on his many characters. One of those characters is Tony Clifton. Well, now, who is Tony Clifton? He's a fake, sleazy lounge singer. Andy thought him up after seeing a real, sleazy lounge singer stink up the joint in Las Vegas.

The guy was angry and drunk, a loser, the kind of jerk people booed off the stage. In other words, he was perfect for Andy's act. Tony Clifton wears dark glasses, a pastel tuxedo, and a frilly shirt. He insults the audience and sings very poorly. Andy plays him in heavy prosthetic makeup. And sometimes Andy doesn't play him at all. Bob Zmuda, his friend and writing partner, occasionally suits up as Tony Clifton.

Naturally, the switcheroo confuses those who aren't familiar with Andy, and this probably delights him. By the late '70s, Andy has become a constant presence on TV. He appears on Good Morning America, The Mike Douglas Show, and The Tonight Show. Taxi makes him a household name. But as I alluded to before, he doesn't seem interested in being swept away by the mainstream. Andy's comedy veers between whimsy and chaos.

One night in 1979, he ends his show at Carnegie Hall by taking the audience out for milk and cookies. And another night in 1981, he wreaks havoc while hosting the ABC late-night show Fridays. He ignores instructions by the producers, makes it a little too clear that he's reading off cue cards, and breaks character in a sketch. His behavior almost results in an on-air brawl.

Now, the anger feels real. But is it? Much later, it's revealed that Andy has asked the executive producer of the show if he could, well, go wild. The producer said yes. But it's hard to know if anyone else is in on the bit. Andy's champion, the guy who really seems to get him, is David Letterman. Dave, who back then is an up-and-coming host, not a legend, has Andy on his show almost a dozen times.

In those days, Late Night with David Letterman is full of the most cutting-edge comedy on TV. On Late Night, Andy plays guitar in a diaper and a turban. And during one interview with Dave, Andy calls three young men to the stage. He claims he's adopted them. He hasn't. In July 1982, Dave also invites Andy and Jerry the King Lawler on to play out their ongoing feud on the air, which they notoriously do.

One night on Letterman, Andy brings out his parents before the three of them sit down to talk to the host. Andy tells Stanley and Janice that he's sorry for being so difficult when he was growing up. He also does something he claims to have never done publicly. He tells them that he loves them. A few minutes later, they're discussing Andy's life and career with Dave. Janice admits she's not fond of Andy's wrestling. Then they all sing, "Row, row, row your boat."

Andy's parents have always been very protective of him. When he's young, his grandfather Sai, Papu, dies of cancer. But Andy's folks don't think that their son fully grasps the concept of death yet. So they tell him that Papu is just traveling. When Andy asks when he's coming back, they say, "Never." Andy is devastated. When Andy gets older, Janice and Stanley eventually admit to him that it was all a lie and that they were wrong to lie.

But he doesn't forget it. He internalizes it. He learns that a lie like that is powerful. So powerful that it can reshape reality. One night in 1982, Andy goes to a party hosted by Jack Burns. Burns is one of the producers of the show Fridays, which Andy single-handedly blew up the year before. Burns' co-producer, John Moffett, is also at the party.

That evening, Andy approaches Burns and Moffett and asks to talk. Then the three of them head down to the basement for some privacy. Andy has an idea. What he proposes is preposterous. He tells the producers that he wants to pretend to be dead. His plan is simple. He'll disappear for a few months, then reappear on the show. Andy says, and I quote, "I think this is going to be the best thing I've ever done.

This is going to be the biggest." Alas, ABC cancels Fridays not long after that. Andy's plan crumbles, at least temporarily. Again, it's unclear whether this is all a big joke to him or not. But well before he has a serious illness, he's toying with the idea of faking his own death. In the early '80s, a mutual friend introduces Andy to a man named Alan Abel. Ever heard of him? Yeah, no, probably not.

But he's a career hoaxer who manages to scam The New York Times into printing his obituary while he's still alive. Andy is fascinated by this feat. He peppers Alan with questions about how exactly he did it. And Alan is more than happy to share his methods with his new friend. There's a fake funeral home in Utah, a fake funeral booking in New York, and an actress friend who shows up to The Times office right before deadline and cries on cue.

It's unclear what Andy does with all this information, but there's a chance that he files it away for future use. When John Belushi dies in 1982, Andy believes that he's faked his own death. He even thinks that the SNL star is stealing his thunder. He used to say that pulling off a trick like that himself is going to blow everyone's mind. Andy and Bob Zmuda have conversations about that very thing.

There are audio recordings of the two of them talking about Andy faking his own death. Andy is excited to give it a shot, though he openly wonders if people would hate his guts when they find out that he's really alive. Bob suggests that Andy could die a fake death every few months. Then no one will believe him if he actually dies. That is how you become immortal. Andy seems to like the idea. He says it could be a real masterpiece.

Now, there are times when Bob believes Andy is taking the faking his own death thing too far. Late one night at Canter's Deli in LA, Bob tells his friend that he actually wants no part of such a scheme. Bob argues that it's illegal when Andy tells a woman that he's going to fake his own death by pretending to have terminal cancer. Bob chastises him. At this point, no one knows if Andy is actually going to go through with this plan.

In the meantime, he still has a lot of living to do. But by 1982, it's pretty clear that to some people, his caustic shtick is wearing thin. That year, he falls out of favor at Saturday Night Live after appearing as a guest for almost a decade. Dick Ebersaal is the producer who takes over the show after Lorne Michaels leaves for a few seasons. He doesn't seem to be fond of Andy's energy. He bumps Andy from an episode at the last second.

They get into a screaming match about it backstage. What the public doesn't know is that it was Dick Ebersaal who first turned Lorne Michaels on to Andy's act. Eventually, Ebersaal claims that the public fight was something that Andy cooked up. But on November 20, 1982, Saturday Night Live puts Andy's place on the show to a vote. Viewers apparently don't think he's very funny anymore. They call in during the broadcast to make their choice.

In the end, almost 200,000 people vote to kick Andy off the show. He loses by almost 30,000 votes. In response to getting voted off the show, Andy records a message to the audience that airs in January 1983. In the short video, he says that he's been banned from SNL and that the only way he can come back is to buy commercial time on his own dime. He also says that he hopes there's another show that'll have him on the air.

Andy doesn't appear live on SNL ever again. Some of Andy's friends blame Ebersaal for allowing the ban to happen. They believe that Ebersaal's anger toward him is real. It's hard to know exactly how Andy feels about it, but one thing is certain, he no longer has a spot on Saturday Night Live. By then, some fans of Andy's comedy clearly have started to turn on him. Andy also starts losing other pillars of his life.

He is a dedicated practitioner of transcendental meditation, or TM. It's how he stays grounded. But the TM movement's leaders don't like that he's involved in professional wrestling. They find it unbecoming, so they distance themselves from him. Then in June 1983, the final episode of Taxi airs. All of a sudden, Andy doesn't seem to have many allies left in show business. That September, he appears again on Late Night with David Letterman.

When Dave asks what he's been up to, Andy says, "Nothing." He tells the host that he likes to accept the way things are, but he also says that he's having a good time with himself. That's the night when Andy brings his three fake adopted sons onto the stage. It's the kind of bit that Letterman loves. In fact, Dave has loved all of Andy's bits. They're always so well planned. Here's what Dave once said about Andy.

"He was the best for us. No one was as careful and thoughtful as was Andy about his appearances and performances. Each one was something that he had orchestrated, rehearsed, and figured out to achieve maximum impact. He would always tell us, almost beat for beat, what was going to happen. And whatever the impact, good or bad, he would just savor it. Nobody could blow the place apart like him."

Around that time, though, Andy's friends and family start to notice that he has a cough. It gets worse and worse. At the Kaufman family Thanksgiving on Long Island that year, he has coughing fits. When he returns to the West Coast, he keeps coughing, but he doesn't seem to be taking his symptoms seriously. Why? Well, because at a checkup six months before that, he had received a clean bill of health. He mostly eats healthy food. He takes vitamins.

His only vice is chocolate. He can't be seriously ill, but he is. In December 1983, Andy sees a Beverly Hills physician who orders a battery of tests. The tests uncover a malignant tumor on his lung. It's blocking his bronchial tube, and that's what caused the cough. The technical term is large cell carcinoma, an aggressive lung cancer rarely found in non-smokers.

It has already started to spread. Doctors tell Andy that his disease is likely incurable. Andy reacts to his diagnosis as if it's not as bad as it really is. He doesn't accept that cancer is going to kill him. He tells people in his life that he's going to use it to help him fake his own death. As he once said to Bob, it really would be his masterpiece. And when he tells his friends he's sick, they don't even believe him.

Years later, Danny DeVito, one of Andy's co-stars on Taxi, still can't believe it. Here's what he says about Andy's illness. "Now this is a guy who didn't smoke, didn't drink. He ate health food, did yoga, was a TM guy. It's a knockout. Talk about the guy who's pulling the rug out from under everybody getting the rug pulled out." Andy tries a variety of natural ingredients to cure himself, but when the pain becomes too much, he gives in and undergoes radiation therapy.

Even after that, he continues to seek out alternative treatments. He hears of healers who are known to magically pull disease out of sick people, like one who's known as the Miracle Man of Baguio. That's a small town outside of Manila. In the spring of 1984, a weekend, Andy and his girlfriend, Lynn Margulis, take a flight to the Philippines. In Baguio, Andy waits in line to receive daily treatment from the Miracle Man of Baguio.

His remedy is, well, the kind of trick that Andy likes. Andy strips down to his underwear, lies down on an operating table, and the healer works his magic. He presses his hands into Andy's skin and yanks out Andy's disease. But what the healer really pulls out is chicken entrails. Lynn says that Andy believes the ritual is helping him, but it's not. After six weeks in the Philippines, Andy and Lynn travel back to Los Angeles.

Andy's condition has worsened. In early May, he's admitted to Cedars-Sinai Hospital. His family and friends gather at his bedside. Michael Kaufman, his brother, says goodbye to Andy and tells him to have a great trip. On May 16th, Andy dies officially. Reporters from national publications like The Washington Post and The New York Times called George Shapiro, Andy's longtime manager. They want to know if this is yet another one of Andy's pranks.

At his funeral, the rabbi plays a recording of Andy singing a song called "This Friendly World." The chorus goes something like this. "The world is such a wonderful place to wander through when you've got someone you love to wander along with you." At Andy's funeral, Bob Zmuda doesn't cry. He has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing. Well, this has to be a prank. He says that everyone there expects Andy to jump out of the casket.

After the service, Andy is buried at Beth David Cemetery in Elmont, New York. His death certificate, which you can find online, cites metastatic carcinoma and renal failure. But this is Andy Kaufman we're talking about. So the question still remains. Is he really gone? Bob Zmuda has never seemed to believe that his friend is dead, which makes sense. Andy and Bob once wrote a movie script together called "The Tony Clifton Story."

Here's a line from it. "On June 12, 1980, Tony Clifton, at the age of 45, died of cancer at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Hollywood, California." It's the same place Andy allegedly passes away four years later. Bob also recalls one particular conversation he had with Andy about faking his own death. When he asks Andy how he'd do it, Andy says this. "If I was going to be a little boy about it, I'd go into hiding for one or two years.

But if I was going to be a man about it, it'd be 20 or 30 years." Remember, nobody is more committed to the bit than Andy. If he were to fake his own death, he'd go all out. He probably would figure out a way to go into hiding for four decades. And when the time is right, he'd reappear. Could he really pull that off? It seems damn near impossible.

But if he managed to do it, it wouldn't just be the best joke in the history of comedy. It would be the biggest, big reveal in the history of American pop culture. Imagine for a moment that you're Andy Kaufman. How would you pull off your greatest trick? There's no "so you've decided to fake your own death" instruction manual to follow. You'd have to cook up your own plan from scratch.

According to Bob Zmuda, Andy did have a plan. Bob outlined it in the book he wrote with Lynn Margulis. It's called "Andy Kaufman: The Truth." Finally, Bob claims that his friend wasn't really terminally ill, but he somehow found a body double who was. Andy then changed his own appearance to match the sick man. That meant losing weight and shaving his head. After doing that, he had photos taken of himself and released them to the press.

Leading up to his friend's death, Bob even noticed that Andy seemed to have the ability to turn his symptoms on and off. One day he looked completely normal. The next he appeared to be deathly ill. Bob claims that he and Andy privately called this the dying routine. According to Bob, Andy vows not to tell Lynn that he's going to fake his own death. Bob is disgusted by that part of the plan and tells Andy as much, but Andy seems unfazed.

He reminds Bob that this is who he is and this is what he does. And he also says that he's psyched to start a whole new life. A life that begins when his body double is buried at Beth David Cemetery. Here's where I should state the obvious. All of this stuff should be taken with a grain of salt. Bob Zmuda was, maybe is, Andy's close friend and creative partner. He's invested in keeping his famously deceptive buddy's legend alive.

A body double, the dying routine, playing dead for 30 years, patently ridiculous, right? Maybe so. But when Andy Kaufman is involved, anything is possible. About a year after his supposed death, a banner appears above the Sunset Strip. It advertises the return of the one and only Tony Clifton. The sleazy lounge singer is coming back for a benefit show at the comedy store.

Then Clifton comes on in his signature pink tux. He seems to be his typical rude self. In between songs, he tells people who'd been invited on stage to get the hell off. But is it Andy under that costume? Lawrence Christen reviews the event for the Los Angeles Times. Here's what he thinks. "Some things you couldn't double fake. The height, for example, on this guy was shorter and older.

The jowly jawline gave it away. He didn't have Kaufman's bone structure. He spoke with a faint Chicago accent. Kaufman grew up in Long Island." Maybe it's Bob Zmuda in all that makeup. He is from Chicago, but no one confirms or denies that. What's certain is that Tony Clifton is alive and unwell as ever. But what about Andy? Well, at the very least, his legend lives on.

In 1992, R.E.M. releases "Man on the Moon." It's the band's tribute to Andy. The lyrics reference his pro wrestling, his Elvis impression, and his supernatural ability to surprise the world. In the hit song, Michael Stipe sings to Andy, "If you're still with us, if you believe there's nothing up his sleeve, then nothing is cool." By then, nostalgia for Andy has started to build. In March 1995, NBC airs a comedy salute to Andy Kaufman.

In the TV special, his famous fans line up to reminisce, and not just his contemporaries. One of his admirers is the biggest comedy star in Hollywood at the time, Jim Carrey. Jim is obsessed with Andy. Four years later, he stars in "Man on the Moon" in Miloš Foreman's biopic. Carrey doesn't just play Andy. He embodies him. During filming, he stays in character even when he's not filming. Bouncing around in Andy Kaufman's head proves to be too fun to resist.

Around this time, Tony Clifton starts making the rounds again, naturally, but there's still no sign of the real Andy. Maybe he is gone forever, or maybe not. The theories about Andy being alive never fade away. In fact, the rise of the internet supercharges them. In 2003, an Indiana man named Stephen D. Maddox registers the domain name, andykofmanlives.com. Fans who believe that Andy faked his own death gather on the site.

They call themselves the disciples. Stephen is their leader. In 2008, he plans a press conference in New Jersey. Andy Kaufman is supposed to show up there. He does not. But afterward, Maddox organizes a conference call with the disciples. He has a secret to share, and it's a whopper. Maddox tells them that Andy Kaufman is his father.

The story goes something like this. His mother and Andy had him when they were teenagers, but Andy moved on. Then in the '80s, Andy reconciled with Maddox's mother. According to Maddox, Andy was so sick of his life as a celebrity that he swapped identities with the man married to Maddox's biological mother. Conveniently, that guy was very sick. Andy paid for his healthcare and then got a second chance with the love of his young life.

In Maddox's tale, the man in Andy's casket on the day of his funeral was actually his mother's husband. How on earth did that happen? Well, the Kaufman family and the Maddox family were obviously both in on the scheme. Allegedly. Maddox also claims that a relative has given him Andy's current home address. It's an apartment complex in Albuquerque, New Mexico. But Maddox disappears before anyone can confirm the details of his story.

Still, rumors that Andy is living out his days in the land of enchantment don't die. At one point, video surfaces of an older man who looks kind of like him. He's walking in a parking lot filled with New Mexico license plates. Local security camera footage of another man who resembles an older version of Andy also causes a stir. But once again, the real Andy never appears. Things are never really quiet on the Andy Kaufman faked his own death front.

And in 2013, as the 30th anniversary of his alleged passing approaches, something strange happens. That November, the Gotham Comedy Club hosts the ninth annual Andy Kaufman Awards. During the ceremony, the comic's brother, Michael, the host, tells a story about sifting through Andy's old writings and finding a piece that piqued his interest. It was something Andy had written saying he was going to, one, fake his own death, and two, reappear at a particular restaurant on a specific date in 1999.

Michael claims he went to the restaurant that day. Now, Andy didn't show up, but Michael says that when he arrived, he was handed a letter. In the allegedly real correspondence, Andy wrote that he's alive and living with a woman. Oh, and the woman is the mother of his grown daughter. One day, Michael says that he got a phone call from a young-sounding woman. She claims to be Andy's daughter. Michael says that the young woman knows things about Andy that strangers wouldn't, like Andy and Michael's secret handshake.

The award ceremony is almost over now, and Michael asked the audience if Andy's daughter is in the house. Right on time, a young woman approaches the stage. She claims to be Andy's daughter. She looks nervous, saying at one point that she's not there to prove anything. The young woman also says that her father thought about coming that night. When an audience member asks her what he's up to now, she claims he left show business to be a stay-at-home dad.

She also says that something in him needs to come out. Michael looks shocked. He hugs the young woman, but Andy never appears. Al Paranello, an old friend of Andy's who produces the award show, is adamant that this isn't a prank. Almost instantly, the media pounces on the story. The Hollywood reporter correctly points out that Andy does indeed have a daughter.

Her name is Maria Belu Colona, and she was born all the way back in 1969, a long time before Andy's supposed death. But there's no record of Andy having any other children. Pretty quickly, one news outlet seems to get to the bottom of the story. The Smoking Gun. The website reports that the young woman's name is Alexandra Tatarsky. She's a 24-year-old actress who, according to an anonymous source, worked at a Manhattan art gallery running a Kaufman exhibit.

It was called On Creating Reality, and that's where Michael met Tatarsky and then hired her to participate in the hoax. She is not Andy Kaufman's daughter. Her father is a psychologist. When TMZ reaches out to Lynn Margulis for comment, she tells the tabloid that Andy is indeed dead. She was in the room when he passed away. She says that Tatarsky is pulling an Andy.

During an interview with CNN, Michael claims to be trying to process what's happened when the anchor, Jake Tapper, asks Michael if the Smoking Gun report about him orchestrating the prank is true. He says no. It's Michael. His directors that he believed and. Is the victim of a hoax. Throughout the interview, Michael manages to keep a straight face, but look close enough and you might be able to detect the smallest trace of a smile.

He says yes, but it's complicated. Here's his answer. The part of me that says there's a glimmer, I'm not sure if that's coming from an obligation to Andy's legacy. You understand what I'm saying? Like, how could I say no, there's no way? Am I being untrue to Andy? So it's possible that's part of it. The other part of it, and maybe this is the better part of it, as far as Andy's legacy, Andy loved to say, you never know.

So did Andy Kaufman fake his own death? I'm not sure, but wherever he is, I bet he's getting a kick out of us trying to answer that question. After all, that was how he liked to entertain the audience by forcing us to figure out whether he was joking or not. Sometimes in life, you just never know.

Thank you for listening to Conspiracy Theories. We're here with a new episode every Wednesday. Be sure to check us out on Instagram at The Conspiracy Pod. If you're watching on Spotify, swipe up and give us your thoughts. Our sources for today's episode include Bill Zemi's book Life in the Fun House, the life and mind of Andy Kaufman, Alex Braverman's documentary, thank you very much, and Bob Zmuda and Lynn Margulis's book Andy Kaufman: The Truth.

Finally, until next time, remember, the truth isn't always the best story, and the official story isn't always the truth. This episode was written and researched by Alan Siegel, edited by Mickey Taylor, fact-checked by Sophie Kemp, and engineered, video edited, and sound designed by Alex Button. I'm your host, Carter Roy.