[Eerie music]
(Narrator) You unlock this door with the k e y of ima Gina t/on.
Beyond it is another dimension...
A dimension of sound,
[glass shattering]
A dimension of sight,
a dimension of mind.
You're moving into a land of both shadowand substance,
of things and ideas.
You've just crossed over into the twilight zone.
[Harmonica plays melancholy tune]
[Hoof beats approaching]
Whoa.
[Snoring]
[Taps on counter]
What's your pleasure, sir?
Cold beer.
Cold beer, she is.
[Sigh]
That'll be a nickel.
It's a lovely little town.
What's that?
I was just remarking about your town.
It's a beautiful, peaceful little place you've got here.
It's the name that really gets me.
Happiness, Arizona.
Yeah, that's what she's called...
Happiness, Arizona.
Let's see, she's been called that
about ten months now.
Oh? What was she called before that?
Called before that? Oh, various things.
Satan's stage stop.
Dead man's junction.
Boot hill village... You passed it.
Boothill town cemetery.
128 people buried there.
Every one of them shot to death
except one who died of natural causes.
Well, that's life.
Ah, this town wasn't a fit place to live in.
Wasn't a night
you wouldn't have to step over a dead body.
That a fact?
All of them shooting every night.
There were more citizens biting the dust
than there was attending Sunday services.
Ah, do tell.
And then, do you know what happened?
I can't even begin to guess.
Exactly... town took stock of itself.
Got itself a real effective sheriff.
Put the kibosh on firearms.
Built itself a jail and a gallows, enforced the law.
Next thing you know...
Happiness, Arizona!
Where a man can walk down the street
and have himself a drink without having to check the mirror
and see who's gunning after him.
Now, that's progress, mister.
Well, it's this kind of thing
that kind of brings tears to my eyes.
Oh, now, you don't have to be scared
to show any emotion, sir.
I know the feeling.
Been living with killing and violence
all your life, and then suddenly
it's kind of like...
It's kind of like the sun coming over a dark cloud
and shining on you with its warm rays of beneficence.
I do a little preaching on the side too.
What's your line, sir?
My... my line?
What do you do?
I'm on the road a good deal of the time.
Selling!
In a manner of speaking.
Services are my supply.
Services?
Well, what sort of services?
Maybe I can throw a little business your way.
You might at that.
This is a town that could use me.
What sort of services you supplying?
I bring back the dead.
[Glass smashes]
Introducing Mr. Jared garr/ty, a gentleman of commerce
who /n the la tter half of the 19th century pl/ed h/s trade
in the wild and wooll y hinterlands
of the American west.
And Mr. Garrity, if one can believe him,
is a resurrector of the dead, which on the face of it
certainly sounds like the bull is off the nickel.
But to the scoffers amongst you,
and you ladies and gentlemen from Missouri,
don't laugh this one off entirely,
at least until you've seen a sample of Mr. Garrity's wares
and an example of his services.
The place is happiness, Arizona,
the time about 1890,
and you and I have just entered a saloon where the bar whiskey
is brewed, bottled and delivered from the twilight zone.
What'd he say his name was?
He didn't say.
He's got a sign on his wagon.
It sa ys garrity,
tha t could be his name.
By golly, that's deduction.
You know why we got law and order in this town?
Because we've got a sheriff
that uses scientific deduction.
I wish I'd thought of that.
You know, if you don't know a fella's name,
you just look at his wagon.
Well, that's really no great shake
of a deduction, lapham,
but it does point up the fact
you can't stop thinking on this job.
It's really kind of a think, think, think proposition.
Now some men depend on this all the time
when they should be using the old... the old bean.
By golly, nobody could be righter.
And when you use the head instead of the gun,
you save money on bullets and burials and labor.
Now he said what to you, Jensen?
(Jensen) Oh, he said he could bring back the dead.
[Laughing] Well, tha t's what? t he said his line was...
"Bringin' back the dead."
Tell you, I almost keeled back in my tracks.
Bring back the dead, I'm thinking.
Well, he's either a lunatic
or he's trying to gull me.
Tha t's when I ran over to your office
and got you, sheriff.
And when we come back, he done and left town.
He probably figured you'd gone after the sheriff
and decided to get out of town.
By golly, that's good reasoning, sheriff.
That's just what he done.
He's obviously some sort of a con man.
And when he saw Jensen here leave the saloon,
he knew he was going for the lawman.
So, uh, he felt he was in trouble,
and he got out of town.
[Slurring] Now that's a very fine piece of deduction.
Except hows come he left his wagon?
Gooberman, you're a very embarrassing man to have around.
Whyaska quest/on like thatfor?
"Hows come he left his wagon?"
How come he did leave his wagon?
Sheriff?
Way I figure it,
he probably didn't get out of town after all.
The way I figure it, he probably checked into the hotel or something.
By golly, sheriff, you're exactly right.
That's just what he done.
You've got a job here for the rest of your life
if I've got anything to do with it.
Jensen, give the sheriff a drink on me.
You're a real sport, lapham.
That's real kind of you, lapham, real kind of you.
(Drunk man) Real kind of you.
Here's to lapham.
Sheriff.
You're, uh... You're Mr. Garrity?
That's my family name.
Is that your wagon outside?
Yep, that's my wagon.
Says garrity on it?
That's my family name.
Well, Mr. Jensen here says
that you bring back the dead.
Now, that's a figure of speech, ain't it?
You don't actually bring back the dead.
On the contrary, that's exactly what I do...
Bring back the dead.
Well, now, you wouldn't mind telling us
how you go about doing this, would you?
Well, now, sheriff, no offense...
Uh, bartender, please...
But it's kind of like a professional trade secret
kind of like a magician.
Now, he doesn't tell how he does his tricks
and I don't tell how I bring back the dead...
But I do.
The fact is, I heard about your town here.
128 dead in boot hill up there.
Happiness, Arizona,
with the biggest cemetery west of Chicago
and all of them departing the earth
with unspeakable violence.
All but one.
And that was my dear wife, Zelda,
rest her soul.
A fine healthy strapping woman of 247 pounds,
but not unattractive, mind you,
and suddenl y I I ost her.
And that's why I drink...
From a broken heart.
How much loss can a man stand?
[Wagon rumbling]
[Dog squealing]
[Wagon stops]
(Man) Killed him, poor little tyke, ran right under my wagon.
Must have struck him alongside of the head.
Hasn't got a Mark on him, but he's sure dead.
Well, it's accidental animal homicide.
Well, that's decent of you, sheriff.
No fine or nothing?
No fine.
You obviously couldn't help it.
Anybody know who the dog belongs to?
Stray is what it is.
I never seen it before.
(Man) I'll take him out and Bury him.
Ladies and gentlemen!
The proof of the pudding is in the eating
and the proof of the service is in the performing.
Hallelujah!
Now that dog is certainly dead, is it not?
(All agreeing)
And gentlemen, I shall return it
to the land of the living.
I shall resurrect that dog.
Now, please, stand back all of you.
Oh, I want to ask you one thing.
In order that I might perform the operation
completely and satisfactorily,
would you all turn around so that you're not watching me.
If you don't mind, please.
[Garrity chanting]
[Chanting]
[Dog moaning]
[Barking]
Eureka!
(Garrity) Oh, you good dog.
Oh, you good dog!
There we go.
[Barking]
(A male voice) Look at him go!
[Iaughz'er, dog barking]
My dear friends, ladies and gentlemen,
citizenry of happiness, Arizona,
it is with no small degree of pleasure
that I stand here
on this quaint picturesque main street
performing whati might modestly claim
as an accomplishment of some dimension.
As you have all seen,
I have just brought a dog back to life.
It's devil's work!
Black magic is what it is.
It is not black magic and not devil's work.
It is the application of scientific principles
which I have picked up over the years
while traveling exclusively in the himalayan mountains.
[Gasping]
What I did for that dog I can do for your loved ones...
May their souls rest in peace... momentarily.
You mean, you can bring back my Zelda?
And my former partner?
And my late husband?
Tonight, dear friends, tonight at midnight,
happiness will reign in happiness, Arizona.
The dead will be returned to you.
[Crowd murmuring]
[Clock chimes]
H-He's still up at the cemetery.
He's been there four hours now.
That place freezes my insides at high noon
with the sun shining down.
Imagine how it is after dark.
I don't like the proceedings.
I believe when you're dead, you're dead.
Imagine my little blossom,
my own Zelda.
All those lonely days and lonely weeks
and tonight at midnight, she comes back to me.
Good evening, gentlemen.
Good evening to you all.
Whiskey, please.
You know, the cosmic impulses tonight are incredible.
Absolutely incredible!
I have just been up on boot hill.
All finished up there now?
All finished.
Now they'll all come filing down any moment now.
Ahead of schedule, too.
I hadn't gone five minutes into the ceremony
before the earth started to heave.
Some mighty anxious folks up there.
Mighty anxious.
Ah, but it'd do your heart good to see them wiggling around
under the sod, just like some happy colts
raring to face life again.
That's your beloved brother,
isn't it, Mr. Jensen?
Uh, John, he was killed by accident last march.
We had a gunfight in here and he got hit by a stray bullet.
The same size and shape as you
with a kind of a limp?
[Glass shatters]
How did you know?
Your brother was the last man buried, Mr. Jensen,
and the last buried are the first ones
who'll be coming back down.
Coming back down?
Ha! I believe that's him coming now.
Mr. Jensen...
It's your own beloved brother John
and a more decent, honorable citizen
never pulled a cork from a bottle, so I'm told.
[Whispering] Mr. Garrity, he was a lowdown thieving skunk.
He spent more time tapping the till and stealing whiskey
than he did waiting on customers.
You dishonor the man.
And here he returns to you from the grave.
And after that unfortunate, accidental bullet
that caught him between the shoulder blades.
Mr. Garrity.
What do you charge
to bring back these dead people?
Room and board, but my major source of income
is the pleasure I derive
bringing happiness to my fellow man.
Well, how would you like to increase
that source of income?
You'll have to speak a bit plainer.
What would it take to put my brother back?
No, that would be a difficult procedure.
You see, Mr. Jensen,
after the resurrection has taken place
it requires a maximum effort
to make them die all over again.
Well, would $100 help the effort?
Shall we say $1,000?
Well, what does 500 do for you?
It warms me a little but I still feel drafty.
Let's settle for, uh... 750, shall we?
It's a deal.
He disappeared!
He just plain disappeared!
He came walking toward us
and I would have bet money
it was your brother John.
And he was walking toward us
and then he plumb disappeared!
That's life.
But now don't fret, friends.
He'll be followed by all the others.
All the others?
Including your beloved wife. Your lonely hours are over.
Your Zelda will soon be back with you
to bring back your peace of mind.
No disrespect, uh...
What I mean is that Zelda was the flower of all womanhood
but on six different occasions
she broke my left arm and this poor thing was in a cast
so many times that I developed a list.
Your point, Mr. Gooberman.
Oh, I would hate to disturb Zelda's rest
so how much would it cost to put her back?
Oh, that's a difficult assignment, Mr. Gooberman.
$500.
For me it was $750!
[Gasping]
I'm ashamed.
I'm truly ashamed.
Your own dear brother.
And you, gooberman, your dear wife.
As a public official of this town, I apologize for these men.
I am humiliated. Nothing less than humiliated!
I don't blame you a bit, sheriff.
And I could perceive immediately
that you're made of sterner stuff.
I didn't see you ouake in your boots
just because lightning Peterson
will be one of the departed returning this night.
Lightning Peterson!
You killed him yourself,
didn't you, sheriff?
He was the fastest gun
in the territory.
Balderdash. I say balderdash!
"Lightning" Peterson.
You killed him once, sheriff, in an honest showdown
and if his incarcera tion hasn't ta ught him anything,
well, you can do it again.
[Exclaims]
Something, sheriff?
You're going to resurrect that gunman?
Well, it was a mass operation.
As a matter of fact, sheriff,
it will give you a marvelous opportunity
to dispel those ugly rumors I heard
that you actually shot Peterson in the back...
Late at night...
When he was alone and unarmed
and you had six deputies alongside of you.
Seven.
Now, I know that you faced up to him in broad daylight
but this will give you an opportunity to shoot him down,
if need be, face-to-face.
Well, now, the fact is, Mr. Garrity,
I don't think that Peterson should be resurrected.
Actually...
He's a menace to society.
The fact is, sheriff...
He's already on his way down.
I don't mind facing up to him
but why go to all that trouble?
Would, uh, you think $500
would keep him back up there?
Lightning Peterson?
You do him an injustice, sheriff.
He was quite a lad with the gun
and mighty active at that.
No, no, no, this will be a $1,200 job.
Sold.
Jensen, a whole bottle please.
Happen to see a scrawny little man out there,
kinda gimlet-eyed.
His name?
Perkins. Ephraim Perkins.
Relative?
Ex-husband.
No tighter man ever squeezed a silver dollar.
And the thing of it is, I'm married again.
And if the truth be known,
I never did care for Ephraim while he was living
and I don't see why I should go through it all again.
What would I do with two husbands?
A hundred dollars?
Five, madam.
Five?
Mm-hm.
My father-in-law...
My father-in-law's a big man,
asked to be buried with a bull whip.
There's just no reason why he should...
No, no, no.
Oh, thank you, thank you.
My wife looked very pretty
when she was buried.
Couldn't we keep her that way?
Five.
The rest of you just put your names here.
The amount's $500.
Thank you.
Five.
[Dog barking]
Whoa.
Come on, boy!
Come on, spot, come on!
[Whistling]
Come on, spot, come here!
[Laughing]
Oh, you nice, nice puppy.
Oh, you're a nice dog.
I got a big bone in the wagon for you.
Your reward for playing dead.
You're late!
Oh, ace, I couldn't help it.
This town is the ripest pear we ever plucked.
They couldn't get rid of their moneybags fast enough.
What was the take?
Considerably more than you earned on the stage, dear boy.
Played my part uncommonly well.
Uncommonly.
I've been checking over the itinerary.
Our next stop is Tucson.
We'll get a good night's sleep,
you go in there in the morning, get a line on the place.
We'll see which of the dear departed
you can im/ta te tomorro w night.
Real sorry, friends,
tha t I couldn't perform what? t I laid claim to,
so rest in peace, all of you.
Let's go.
Old spot, now come on over here.
There you go.
You sit here.
[Chuckles]
Giddy-up.
[Earth rumbling]
The man don't do himself justice.
The actor that played you wasn't worth a darn.
But that there garrity
sure can do a job of resurrecting.
I can't wait to get back into town.
I've got a lot of drinking to catch up with.
There's a yellow skunk of a sheriff
I aim to settle a score with, too.
And there's a little pipsqueak
of a sot just waiting to get his arm broke
and I'm just the gal that can do it
or my name ain't Zelda gooberman.
(Narrator) Exit Mr. Garrity, a would-be charla tan,
a make-believe con man
and a sad m/sjudger of his own talents.
Respectfull y submitted from an empty cemetery
ona dark hills/de
that/s one of the slopes leading to the twilight zone.
(Male presenter) And now, Mr. Serl/ng.
The subject next time is automation.
Our area of concern:
The replacement of men by machines.
It happens to be not only a current industrial phenomenon
but potentially a sizable can of peas,
that, once opened, carries with it
some very special story material.
On the twilightzone next time, we open that can of peas
and present a battle between the men and the machines.
Richard Deacon and Paul newlan star in
"the brain center at whipple's."