There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man.
It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity.
It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition,
and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge.
This is the dimension of imagination.
It is an area which we call The Twilight Zone.
Right here, ladies and gentlemen! Special July clean-up sale!
Lovely things, calamine lotion.
Good for sunburn. How about binoculars?
Street scene: Summer. The present.
Man on a sidewalk named Lew Bookman, age sixtyish. Occupation: Pitchman.
Lew Bookman, a fixture of the summer, a rather minor component to a hot July.
A nondescript, commonplace little man whose life is a treadmill built out of sidewalks.
In just a moment, Lew Bookman will have to concern himself with survival.
Because as of 3 o'clock this hot July afternoon he'll be stalked by Mr. Death.
- Hi, Lew. - Hello, darling. Oh here here.
Oh my goodness. It was hot today, very hot.
What you selling today, Lew? Toys, Lew? Were you selling toys?
I show you what I was selling.
- Here's one for you. -Thanks, Lew!
That's all right, Meggie. Here's one for you, Ricky.
Thanks, Lew!
Now the Lew Bookman social and icecream hour takes place right after supper.
The regular turn now.
Don't forget!
Goodbye, don't forget the icecream hour.
You're the man I saw in the sidewalk today. You're writing in a book.
You are Lew Bookman, aren't you?
That's right, Lewis J. Bookman.
Is that something I can show you?
Maybe something in collar stays?
- I'll get that... - No no, Mr. bookman. I'm not here to buy anything.
Now let's get to the business, shall we?
Lewis J. Bookman, age sixty-nine. Right?
70 in September.
- Occupation, pitchman. Right? - Ah, that's right.
Are you a census taker?
Born in New York City, 1890?
That's right, 1890.
Father Jacob Bookman, mother Flora Bookman.
Father's place of birth, Detroit, Michigan.
Mother's place of birth, Syracuse, Newyork. Right?
That's right. My goodness, you got it all down that book there.
Yes, we have to keep these things efficient.
Now today is the 19th of July. And your departure is at midnight tonight.
My departure?
Oh, excuse me.
- Hi, Meggie. - The Key's bent, Lew. Can you fix it?
Oh, sure. Come on right in. Come on in. Let me see it.
Well, there's your trouble right there. See that little cogwheel?
Well, you've been pushing in that key when you were winding it. You see?
See? Now it's all right.
I'd introduce you two, only I don't know your name.
No need.
I think I got it now, Lew.
This gentleman came here to ask me a lot of questions.
What gentleman?
That gentleman.
What gentleman?
Mr. Bookman.
She can't see me or hear me.
- Why not? - Why not what, Lew?
Why can't you see him or hear him?
See who, Lew?
It works great now, Lew. Thanks an awful lot.
See you after supper, huh?
Now wait a minute. You haven't forgot your manners.
Aren't you going to say goodbye?
Oh, yeah. Goodbye, Lew. Thanks a lot.
No, no. I mean to the gentleman there.
Oh, it's a game. The invisible man.
Goodbye, invisible man.
See you after supper, Lew.
I can see you, yet she can't.
Only those who are to accompany me can see me. Understand, Mr. Bookman.
Mr. Bookman.
Only those who are to accompany me can see me.
Now don't you think you'd better start making your arrangements?
Arrangements for what?
For your departure.
My departure where?
You still don't get it. I just never will understand you people.
You get the idiotic notion that life goes on forever, and of course it doesn't.
Everyone has to go sometime.
- Go? You mean... - That's right.
And what I further don't understand is how little you appreciate the nature of your departure.
Think of all the poor souls who go in violent accidents.
These are the non-precognition victims. We're not permitted to forewarn them.
You, Mr. Bookman, fall into the category of natural causes.
Natural causes?
Number one, I find you a very devious sort.
Number two, I think that you're dishonest.
Number three, why don't you say what your mean?
Mr. Bookman, I've done everything but phone your own undertaker.
How much clearer do you want it?
If you still don't know who I am then you are the most dense man I've come up against.
- You... you're death? - Exactly, Mr. Bookman.
Now shall we get down to business?
Time of departure is midnight tonight. I trust that will suit you.
Preordination is for death during sleep.
I assume this too will meet with your approval.
You'll find this a relatively simple and painless and barely noticeable...
No, just a minute. I don't want to go!
No, they never do.
But there's no reason for me to go. I'm a very healthy man!
Outside of a slight cold I had last winter,
and a sliver that festered in that finger there,
I don't think i've had a sick day in 20 years.
That's as it may be, but departure time is set for midnight and departure will be midnight.
Don't I have anything to say about that?
We do listen to appeals. But...
Frankly, Mr. Bookman, there's very little here in the way of an extenuating circumstance.
There are three major categories of appeals. one is hardship cases.
Now do you have a wife or family who might suffer beyond a reasonable point your demise?
No, no family.
The second category is priority cases. Statesmen, scientists. Men on the verge of discoveries.
I take it you're not working on any major scientific pursuit at the moment.
No, no.
What's the third category?
I don't think you're qualified here either.
Unfinished business of a major nature.
Well, you don't have any unfinished business, do you, Mr. Bookman?
But I do!
Indeed I do! That's it, you see... I...
Yes, I have some unfinished business. Unfinished business...
I've never flown in a helicopter, that's it.
I've never flown in...
Insufficient, Mr. Bookman.
Anything else?
Now you look here, I've lived in this room for 21 years.
And you keep popping up in corners of the room that I've never even seen before.
Will you please stay in one place?
Is there anything else, Mr. Bookman?
Yes, yes. I have never seen a Zulu war dance.
Now that's the answer right there.
So you'll have to give me a couple of months let me go over to that Zulu country.
No?
No. Unfinished business of a major nature something is a man had yearned for
and something he might accomplish given an extension.
- Well, there is one thing. - What is it, Mr. Bookman?
Well, between you and me, I've never made a truly big pitch.
I mean... I mean a big pitch.
A pitch big enough to for the skies to open up.
You know... a pitch for the angels.
Of course it wouldn't mean very much to you, but it would mean a great deal to me.
It would mean that for one moment in my whole life I would've done something successful.
It would mean that maybe the children would be very proud of me.
The children?
Yes, I've always had quite a fondness for children, you know.
It sets that's all here in the record.
the problem here, Mr. Bookman, is that you'd require delay until...
Until I make a pitch.
The kind of pitch I was talking to you about then.
- One for the angels, you mean? - That's right. One for the angels.
I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Bookman. But no.
You see, these categories are fairly specific and...
When reference is made to unfinished business of a major nature,
the only interpretation to be made here is simply that...
What I mean is that unfortunately, Mr. Bookman,
an ability to succeed in a given professional venture is really hardly of a major...
Mean a great deal to you, does it?
A great deal.
All right, Mr. Bookman. Under the circumstances I believe I can grant you a delay.
Until?
What do you mean, "until?" Until you've made this... this "pitch" you're talking about.
I can live till then?
That's the agreement.
Oh, I think that's a fine bargain. I didn't get your name but...
Now about this pitch, Mr. Bookman. When might we expect it?
When? Oh, soon. You know.
Maybe not this year. Maybe not for a couple of years yet, but soon.
Mr. Bookman, I have the very odd feeling that you're taking advantage of me.
Oh, you have? Well that's a pity.
Because I am!
You'll never catch me making a pitch anymore.
You think you can fool me, eh? I'll hardly open my mouth from now on.
Really, Mr. Bookman?
This is much more serious than you imagine.
It's much more complex than you realize, what you've just done.
Here I've gone out of my way to help you and this is the way you repay me?
Mr. Bookman!
It' won't just end here, you understand? There'll be consequences, you see?
FYI! That means, for your information.
You made your bed and you shall have to sleep in it.
We made bargain that I don't have to go until I make a pitch.
And you'll have to wait till I make that pitch.
I can say this without the least fear of contradiction.
Have you got a long wait!
That may well be, Mr. Bookman.
But since you won't come with me, I've been forced to select an alternative.
Meggie, Meggie!
I swear I didn't see her.
She jumped right off the curb and I never had no chance to stop.
I swear to you I never had no chance to stop at all.
Well, then someone send for a doctor! Get an ambulance.
I'll go.
You're going to be all right, Darling. You're going to be just fine.
- Hi, Lew. - Hello, sweetheart.
- Lew? - Yes?
Lew, who's that man?
- Do you see him? - Yes, Lew.
Hey, wait a minute. You can't take her. No, sirree. You can't take her.
Now listen, I'll go. Never mind the pitch.
I don't even want to wait, I'll go right now.
You can't take her. I'll go with you!
The Twilight Zone S01E02 One For The Angels
- How is she, Doc? How's Meggie do? - I cannot tell. I can't tell.
- Doctor? - It's hard to tell.
She's very sick little girl but we'll know soon. She should have a crisis by midnight.
- By midnight? - I think by then.
He won't come here. I won't let him come here.
- Good evening, Mr. Bookman. - You've got business in there?
I most certainly do.
It's a quarter to 12. In 15 minutes, midnight. That's my appointment.
Mr. Death, that little girl is only 8 years old.
I'm ready now.
I'm sorry, Mr. bookman. But I had to make other arrangements.
It's impossible to change them now.
She's to come with me at midnight, so I must be in there at midnight.
And if you're not in there?
That would be pretty much unheard of.
You see, if I didn't get in there at precisely midnight,
then the whole timetable would be upset.
Oh my, no. It' unheard of.
Unheard of?
What are you doing, Mr. Bookman?
Oh, just setting up a pitch, that's all.
At this time of night?
Oh, I very often have a late sale. Very often.
- Not many customers. - Oh, they'll be here.
- They'll come around. You're here anyway. - Oh, Yes. I'm here.
But I'm afraid I'm not much of a customer.
How do you know? Have you seen my stock?
Now take this lovely tie here. Oh, Oh. Excuse me.
- What does that look like to you? - Look like a tie.
Feel it.
So...
Ladies and Gentlemen,
if you'll feast your eyes on probably the most exciting invention since atomic energy.
A simulated silk so fabulously conceived as to mystify even the ancient Chinese silk manufacturers.
An almost unbelievable attention to detail.
A piquant interweaving of gossamer softness.
Witness, if you will, a demonstration of tensile strength.
Feel that, if you will, sir.
Unbelievable, isn't it?
As strong as steel and yet as fragile and delicate as Shantung Silk.
Picture, if you will, 300 years of backbreaking research and labor to develop this.
the absolute ultimate in thread.
And what would you expect to pay for this fabulous?
I say fabulous, incredible, amazing development of the tailor's art.
Would you pay 30 dollars a spool? 25, 20, 10?
Very well, you might sir, if you were trying to puchase this at stores.
But this fantastic thread is not available in stores.
It is smuggled in by Oriental birds especially trained for ocean travel.
Each carrying a minute quantity in a small satchel underneath their ruby throats.
It takes 832 crossings to supply enough thread to go around one spool,
and tonight as my special get-acquainted, introductory, mid-July, hot summer sale,
I offer you this fabulous thread not at 20 dollars a spool.
Not at 10, not at 5, but at the ridiculously low price of 25 cents a spool.
I'll take all you have.
Sewing needles, yarn, odd lots of leather, marvelous plastic shoelaces.
Genuine static eradicator will fit any standard radio.
Suntan oil, eczema powder, razors, athlete's feet destroyer.
How about some nice simulated cashmere socks?
All right, all right. I'll take all.
And now for the piece de resistance.
An item never before offered in this or any other country.
One guaranteed, live, human, manservant.
How's that?
For what I ask you, sir, receive a willing, capable, worldly, highly sophisticated,
wonderfully loyal right hand man to use in any capacity you see fit.
How's that?
Me! Lewis J. Bookman. the first model of his kind.
He comes to you with an absolute guarantee. All parts interchangeable.
With a certificate of 4 years serviceability.
He eats little. He sleeps little. He rests only occasionally.
And there he is at your elbow. At your beck and call whenever who needed.
Mr. Bookman, you are a persuasive man.
I challenge any other store,
wholesale house or industry to even come close to matching what I offer you here.
Because, my dear man, I offer you... I offer you...
It's midnight. It's midnight and I've missed my appointment.
Give her the sedatives every 3 hours, Mrs. Polansky.
She will be all right. She just needs a lot of rest now.
She's all right.
One minute pass twelve, Mr. Bookman. And you made me miss my appointment.
Thank god!
A most persuasive pitch, Mr. Bookman. An excellent pitch.
Yes, quite a pitch. Very effective.
The best I've ever done.
It's the kind of a pitch I've always wanted to make. A big one.
A pitch so big... so big that the sky would open up.
A pitch for the angels.
That's right. A pitch for the angels.
- Well, I guess it's time for me now. - As per our agreement.
- Well, I'm ready. - After you, Mr. Bookman.
Oh, Excuse me. I forgot something. I'll be back in a minute.
You never know who might need something up there.
Up there?
Up there Mr. Bookman. You made it.
Lewis J. Bookman, age sixtyish. Occupation, Pitchman.
Formerly a fixture of the summer, formerly a rather minor component to a hot July.
But throughout his life, a man beloved by the children,
and therefore a most important man.
Couldn't happen, you say? Probably not in most places,
but it did happen in the Twilight Zone.
Rod Serling, the creator of Twilight Zone, will tell you about next week's story,
after this word from our alternate sponsor.
And now, Mr. Serling.
Next week, we invite you to take a walk down a Western frontier street at the elbow of a doomed gunman,
whose salvation lies in nothing less than a magic potion and... a Colt 45.
Mr. Dan Duryea stars in "Mr. Denton on Doomsday", next week on The Twilight Zone.
We hope you'll be able to be with us. Thank you and good night.
Subtitle by Rockstarr rockstarr8702@gmail.com
Kimberly-Clark invites you to watch Steve McQueen in Wanted Dead or Alive.
Saturday nights over most of these same stations.