Original subtitles

Good evening, please come in.

These little objects d'art that you see surrounding me,

you won't find in your average art museum.

Because these are unusual paintings and statuary that come to life

or death, whatever the case may be, because this is the Night Gallery.

It's a measure of our current mores

that we base an economy on a credit plan.

We do things on time, so to speak.

Purchase the item, use it while you're paying it off.

And this adds up the intriguing premise of this painting.

In which, the faith between seller and buyer is the ultimate.

It's called Die Now, Pay Later.

Walt! Walt! I'm sure you've got 101 good excuses, Walt.

But what I'm trying to tell you is that this sale of yours

has got to come to an end. Pronto!

Why if it don't, half the people in this town's gonna wind up dead.

Why, whoever heard of such a thing! Look at this!

Just look at this! "Giant January Clearance sale.

"Once in a lifetime bargains."

Why, I never heard of nothing so disgusting!

Everybody else does it.

Every other businessman in town gets rid of surplus merchandise in this way,

why should I be any different?

Because you're an undertaker!

Undertakers don't have yearend clearance sales!

I don't see why not! I've got all these caskets I've got to get rid of.

I need new stock and it's not just the caskets,

it's all these lovely flowers, wax flowers,

visitor's books, these candelabra. Here.

Here, this lovely crematory jar.

For $150 plus tax

I will sell you this lovely crematory jar.

Now don't go getting carried away, Walt.

It just isn't as simple as you make it seem.

All right, Ned, you go ahead and explain. It's not like you

to stand in between a man and his business.

Not unless you have changed radically in the last five years.

Five years! Has it been that long?

Since Etta. Since you and Etta tied the knot.

Oh, I don't play checkers much anymore.

That old Jake Barker dropped by once in a while for a game,

but I'm always so tensed up waiting for him to cheat,

that I can't really concentrate on my game.

Oh, Ned!

Why don't you just drop whatever you think you're doing

and come on over here. Sit down. By the fire.

Have a rest and maybe drink a beer.

And we could play a game of checkers.

Like in the good old days.

Listen, Walt, the thing about this sale of yours is this,

well, since it started the death rate in Thornton has gone up sky high.

Don't tell me you haven't noticed it.

Well, I have been almighty busy ever since I put the ad in the newspaper last Monday.

But, what about it? All these good folks here getting a rare old bargain.

My January clearance sale.

I wish you would stop calling it that.

Doesn't it seem to you like more than a coincidence that

everybody'd start dying off this week?

What are you getting at, Ned?

I've got reason to believe that

those people are lying in there, in your half priced caskets

didn't all die of natural causes.

In fact, it's my bet that darn few of them did.

Your bet or Etta's?

Well, Walt, folks talk.

Etta talks.

Now she's my wife, Walt, can't we leave her out of this?

I can.

Can you?

(CHUCKLES) Oh, Ned!

Are you trying to tell me that some of those good folks

lying in my back parlor have been murdered?

I'm trying to tell you just that.

There's going to be a ruckus around this town if these deaths don't stop.

Been accidents mostly. Sarah Hodasty, she fell off the back porch

and broke her neck.

And Wes Gannet who everybody's known for a coon's age

that if he didn't stop messing around with canned heat,

why, he'd wind up in trouble.

Coincidentally, and Tom Franklin...

They're more than coincidences.

I'll grant you, you've been too clever for me so far.

There hasn't been a case of poisoning or anything else that I can prove.

But, the fact of the matter is, that these folks that's been dying off

was all folks that, well, other folks have been wanting to see dead for a long time.

Relatives and others that had to pay the funeral costs.

Oh, now, it might be true, but, is that any reason for me to stop my sale?

Sarah Hodasty,

now, everybody knows that she left $20,000 to her nephew Jake.

Jake, good old Jake.

Jake, well now, let's see here,

Jake did come home for Christmas, didn't he?

Yeah, he did. Just in time to shove her off

the back porch and collect his inheritance.

And then there was Wes Gannet.

Now Wes gave up that canned heat five years ago

when he wound up in the hospital.

But, here lately, why, Wes was

running around with Grayson Brackett's wife

and, you know, there was some folks that think they saw Grayson

down there by the railroad tracks with Wes the night he died.

And then there was Frank Laster.

Now Frank's been working at that box mill for going onto 25 years.

Strikes me as kind of odd that he'd pick this week to

lose his balance and fall into that saw.

And I don't suppose that I can prove that just because Wilbur Parker was

standing behind him when he slipped and fell has anything to do with Frank

winding up sliced up like a sausage!

Frank was a bit hard to fix up proper.

But I'm beginning to see what you mean.

You know, Frank was telling all around that Wilbur

didn't pay his bills, wasn't he?

That's right.

My point is, if you go on with this sale, why...

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Well, excuse me, Ned.

Yes? Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Oh, that is shameful!

Aw!

Aw, a real shame.

Yes. Yes.

I'll be right over, ma'am.

Was that another one?

Yeah, Lucy Crockett

is gone, seems she fell into the mill pond.

Well, that will be one that will be impossible to prove.

Everybody in town hated Lucy.

Walt, if nothing else, this ought to convince you.

Why, if there's just an outside chance of there being a tie in

you gotta give up this sale.

Yes, I'm beginning to see what you mean.

It's a shame though, folks are taking advantage of the sale.

I mean, and you know I've got such beautiful oak caskets,

with pink satin lining and beautiful fancy pillows.

Now, I over-bought on all this stock back in '58 and

I forgot that folks around here like things simple.

So long as they have to pay for it themselves.

Oh, dear, that's a shame though.

Now they're going to lose out on a real bargain.

Shame.

You know, I never could understand what Etta had against me.

Why was she so dead set on busting up our friendship?

She swore she'd leave me if I didn't.

But why? What did she have against me?

Promise you won't laugh if I tell ya.

How long have you known me, Ned?

You know, Etta had some folks in Salem.

According to her people

there was a Peckinpah that got his self burned at the stake for witchcraft.

Etta claims that he was a relative of yours.

That is my great-great-great-great-grandfather.

That was over 200 years ago.

Well, it don't make Etta no never mind.

She says a thing like that just naturally runs in the family.

Like a high hairline.

Well, she thinks I'm a warlock, huh? (MEOWS)

She actually believes I am a warlock.

Well, I never did claim that she was too high on intelligence.

Well, what she lacked in logic, why,

she made up for it in plain mule headed stubbornness.

A warlock! What do you know!

That's why you gotta call off this doggone sale, Walt.

If you don't, why Etta's gonna have it all over town that it's you

casting your evil spell, slipping the devil into people,

that's upped our local death rate.

Yes, that would cause a terrible mess now, wouldn't it?

Amen to that, brother.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Excuse me, Ned.

Hello? Etta! Oh, it's you, Etta!

Ah! Ah! Yes. Yes, he's here.

(SOFTLY) Etta.

I swear that woman's got built in radar.

Yes, dear.

Yes, dear.

Yes, dear.

Yes, dear.

Yes, dear. I'll be right home.

Yes, dear. Bye now.

You know, Ned, wouldn't hurt to let this sale go on

for one more day now, would it?

Might even help.

Yeah. Might at that.

As usual, following the course of the old switcheroo

on Night Gallery, a painting called Room For One Less.

Sorry, folks. That is the limit.

Hey, Mac.

Quite.

A bizarre little item here offered to the gourmet,

who takes his banquet seriously.

If sometime you were invited to a picnic under the moon

you might best check the other guests.

The ones who didn't arrive in automobiles.

Who as a matter of fact, parked their brooms in the corner of the meadow.

This little nocturnal clam bake is called Witches' Feast.

(WITCH'S CACKLING LAUGHTER)

Hand of monkey.

Brain of cat.

Eye of weasel.

Tail of rat.

Juice of mugwort.

Mastic, merle, all within the pot we stir.

Oh! I'm hungry.

Patience, child, patience.

Here is the foam of a mad dog's lips.

Gathered beneath the moon's eclipse.

Ashes of a shroud consumed.

In a deadly vapor fume.

These within the mix I cast.

Stir the cauldron.

Stir it fast!

ALL: Over mountain.

Over valley.

Over woodlands.

Over waste.

On our count.

Broomsticks riding.

We have come.

In frantic haste.

I'm ravenous. Absolutely stark-staring ravenous.

Then I tell you, you'll just have to wait.

(GROANING)

Stir the water.

ALL: Demon's daughter.

Till the tempest

gathers over us.

Till the thunder

strikes with wonder.

And the lightning

flash before us.

Heat the water,

demon's daughter.

Brew and seize our foes

and slaughter.

Oh, please tell me how much longer will it be.

Until she gets here.

Heat the water.

Demon's daughter.

See the tempest

cast over us.

(CLAP OF THUNDER)

Lightning flashes.

Thunder crashes.

Wild winds sing

in lusty chorus.

What's keeping her?

She had to go all the way to the warlock for it.

Oh! I could have formed a coven.

And held black mass.

Sacrificial version and all, in the time it's taking her.

Oh! Juice of poppy.

Bruised with black hellebore

infused. Go!

Ah, mandrakes' bleeding roots.

Mixed with moonshades'

deadly fruits.

Viper's fang with venom filled.

Taken ere the beast was still.

And escape.

Food! Food! If she just stopped talking about it.

Horn of hawks

and stir ox red.

Lapwings' blood

at midnight shed.

In the heated pot, we burn.

And in pungent vapor turn.

By this strong fumigation.

And this potent invocation.

(CRACK OF THUNDER)

Ah! It's about time. All right, all right.

I'm sorry I'm late, but you know the warlock

when he gets to gossiping.

Oh, no matter. As long as you've got it.

Oh, I got it. (SHRIEKING WITH DELIGHT)

I got just what I went after.

Now, let me see. Who had...

Ham on rye, hold the lettuce?

Shh!

Our next painting on Night Gallery

tells the story of an illusion.

An invisible specter which guides and motivates and drives.

And though you'll never see her, this childish wraith,

you'll know she's there.

And we venture to suggest that

you'll be chilled by the knowledge.

Our painting is called Little Girl Lost.

That's him.

It's his mind.

I can see.

What we're asking won't be difficult.

Physically, that is.

Colonel, when did this happen?

COLONEL: Six months ago.

BURKE: How?

COTTRELL: A hit and run driver, police never did find out who.

The mother?

Died in childbirth.

What, uh... What's the little girl's name?

COTTRELL: Ginney.

COLONEL: Well, what's your reaction?

Well... Why me?

You cleared security.

And I'm loathe to mention it,

but our Professor Putman has a natural sympathy for the afflicted.

Oh, you mean my aluminum leg

due to a slight malfunctioning of the ejection seat.

It's important that he like you.

He certainly doesn't like any of us here.

Look, I can't do anything

if you don't tell me why I'm doing it.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say

that the future of this country depends on the professor.

He was working on something

when his little girl was killed.

It destroyed him.

He only began working again

after he established his delusion.

Now he refuses to work here.

And we can't keep him here, except as...

Well, as you saw him.

Now, we want his genius.

And in order to get it, we have to play the game his way.

And let him work when he wants, where he wants.

Exactly!

And he needs protection.

But you're not only his bodyguard, you're his friend.

Pass over his findings to us

and above all, keep him happy.

Well, does he give any reason for wanting to leave here?

He says "It's not the right place to bring up a young girl."

Considering his delusion, of course,

he's perfectly right about it.

So we have to let him go.

Well, Mr. Burke?

In other words, you want me to be

a nursemaid to a ghost.

That's about it.

Ginney. Very pretty.

Was this taken on her eighth birthday?

Well, Ginney was... Ginney is

very pretty.

Oh, good morning, Mr. Burke.

Good morning, Professor.

Well, good morning, Ginney.

Did you have a good breakfast, huh?

I'm afraid not.

The weather, I think.

But a trip to the seaside will be the antidote for that.

Some sunshine will do her a world of good. Yeah.

She is a bit pale. But what about your work?

Oh, that won't interfere.

You see, we'll each have our own... Our own rooms.

Well, my darling. When would you like to leave, hmm?

(CHUCKLING)

Right away. (LAUGHS)

Well, it'll be fine with me. I'll...

I'll pack.

And, Ginney, I won't forget your favorite red dress, huh?

Ah! Now, I might have forgotten that.

I do forget things, you see.

The hackneyed concept of the absent-minded professor.

Well, laymen don't understand.

Laymen?

Laymen.

I've often wondered who they really are.

Ordinary people, I suppose.

But what's ordinary? Is it, uh,

good or bad? Is it frail or strong?

Answer me. What is ordinary?

People with faults.

Faults?

Faults. Yes, that's the word.

And one must protect against those faults

that can be so dangerous.

Well, children, you see,

now, what chance have they against those of us

who commit mistakes and justify them as

ordinary?

Now, don't you worry about that.

We will protect you.

(RIDERS SCREAMING WITH DELIGHT)

PUTMAN: Come in.

Ah, Mr. Burke.

Ginney tells me you two had a wonderful time today.

Yes, she really has some appetite for cotton candy.

(LAUGHS) You found out about that, eh?

And her swimming.

You didn't let her go out too far, did you?

Oh, no. No, sir.

And I didn't trust her to the lifeguards either.

You kept her in sight the whole time?

Oh, absolutely, sir.

Good, Burke.

Incompetence, you know, that's another thing.

Oh, it's easy to deal with deliberate evil

but think of what the incompetence...

And, sir, if you remember,

she really doesn't need anyone to watch over her.

That's right.

Half fish, I'd say.

Here, sir. Let me do that.

You? Yes.

Ginney, you don't mind if I brush your hair, do you?

No, I won't hurt you.

As a matter of fact, I brush my own hair every day.

And, look, if I catch a snag

then I promise I'll tell you a bedtime story, huh?

Oh, oh, honey, I'm sorry.

Well, I promised you if I hit a snag

I'd tell you a bedtime story.

Which one?

Well, she told me today that her favorite was The Three Bears.

You're right, she adores that one.

(SIGHS)

There you are.

Now, we're all done.

Kiss your daddy good night

and then I'll take you and tuck you in bed. Hmm?

Oh. Come on now.

Here we go.

Perfect.

Just...

Now,

once upon a time,

there were these three bears.

The papa bear,

mama bear, and the little baby bear.

And they...

They lived in the forest in a pretty, little cottage.

One day,

the three bears went out to look for food.

(VOICE TREMBLING) And while they were gone,

a little girl came to the forest and

she saw the cottage.

And

she thought it was pretty.

And she went inside.

And...

Asleep? Yeah. Yes, sir.

Of course, it took me Little Red Riding Hood too.

You got yourself a fine girl there, sir.

Well, thank you, Tom.

May I call you Tom?

I'm honored, sir.

You know, I'm glad she's taken to you.

I'm too old for her.

Science, immersed in abstracts, theories.

No time for normalities, humanity.

As you might expect, it was a...

A late marriage.

Efforts to conceive.

And then her mother, dead.

Well, I've tried to do the best I can but...

Ginney needs to be around young people more.

It's funny, you know, I really feel that I can get down to this now.

Uh, don't you have any curiosity about this?

Oh, no, sir. No?

None at all?

Doc, I've conditioned myself against it.

Against what?

Well, what's none of my business.

Well, this is your business.

This is the business of all mankind.

But unfortunately, mankind is not privileged to find out about it yet.

Well, if you'll excuse me, sir.

A young girl can lead you a merry chase.

I think I'll turn in.

Oh, fine.

Goodnight, Tom.

Yeah, he's working.

But I don't like it. Neither do I.

I'm a doctor of the mind. My job is to heal.

What would you think of a doctor who deliberately encouraged cancer in a man

because it increased his IQ?

Well, I think that would depend on what he does with that IQ.

Well, I can't tell you what he's working on.

I will say I feel he'd be much better off dead.

A stranger, some incident.

Any number of a thousand things

could make our professor realize that he's been living in a dream.

If you can't live with something, you escape it.

He's escaping by forgetting.

And the trouble is he can't forget enough.

So, he keeps on trying.

Dementia praecox.

It isn't very nice.

Yeah, I know, but with the proper therapy...

Oh, proper therapy, man!

Damn it, they won't allow us time for that.

They want what he can do now!

So, they give him his dream

until he's done his dirty work and then...

And then what? Forget him? Let him go mad?

Why not?

What better way to safeguard the knowledge?

By allowing his mind to lapse into total insanity.

Now, what possible good could he be to any foreign power then?

No, we wouldn't do that.

Oh, wouldn't we?

Mr. Burke...

My profession is in understanding the human mind.

You take a group of men, split responsibility,

avoidance of guilt,

add a dash of security, fear, patriotism,

the natural desire to follow the easy path,

and the even more natural desire to be all-powerful.

Surely you can see our professor doesn't stand a chance.

Well, Ginney, I imagine that after two weeks of cotton candy and sweets

I wouldn't be very hungry either. (CHUCKLES)

She does look wonderful though.

Nothing like sea air.

Hmm, I'm sorry, sir, this seat's taken.

Oh, it is, huh?

Then where's the plate?

The...

(SIGHS)

Now, listen you, there's not another chair in the place, and I'm hungry.

(SPEAKING SPANISH)

There's a larger table just over here.

Please.

I'm sorry, sir. Oh, that's okay.

Tom.

The world is full of bad people.

Oh, that guy? Forget him.

Forgive me if it's a delicate subject but

your leg... A mistake.

Mistake? Well, not at all deliberate, I assure you that.

Assembly of the modern aircraft today,

as if I need to tell you, involves a great number of people

doing a great number of complicated tasks.

And someone was incompetent.

Well, the ejection mechanism there.

Of course.

That's what I mean. Excuses

in the name of human frailty, when all it amounts to

is that the world is infected with destroyers

of one kind or another.

Just criminals, murderers, people that would be better off dead.

Sometimes... Sometimes, Tom, I wish that something would happen

where they would all just die.

Look, forget about him, sir.

I mean, that's life, you see.

Well, it takes all kinds to make a world, doesn't it?

How's the work, huh?

Oh.

It's finished, you can have the results tonight.

That's what you wanted, isn't it?

The final set of equations

so they could begin testing?

Look, Professor...

Tests on controlled fission of non-radioactive materials.

Bigger and better bombs at a fraction of the cost.

Oh, the demented fools. Why don't we get out of here, huh?

Why don't we take Ginney for a walk, huh?

Why don't we buy her dolls?

Such eagerness.

A general himself

fetching the papers.

Enjoying the ride, honey? Well, good. Oh, we'll stop for lunch soon.

Murdering fools. (TIRES SQUEALING)

Sir, that kind of talk, I'm afraid, is scaring Ginney.

Sir! Sir, Ginney!

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(BURKE YELLING)

You could have killed both of us.

I know, I'm sorry.

Okay, I'll drive.

Yes.

You drive.

Wherever.

Keep your voice down.

And what then?

I took the wheel.

Well, anything else? Did you do something, say anything?

I said, uh...

He could have killed us both and he... Both of you?

Dear God.

You...

You stopped him just in time

from committing suicide.

But why should he want to kill himself?

I don't know.

You know, a funny thing, last night.

We went to this restaurant for dinner

and some guy came over and he tried to take

the chair I was saving for Ginney.

Well, it...

It, it was... It was resolved and...

And? Afterwards, for the first time,

he asked me about my leg.

Yes.

I told him the truth.

That someone in assembly had made a mistake

that caused the mechanism to malfunction.

And he gave you the papers.

The papers have arrived by now.

And they're hard at work on the tests.

I, uh... I want to see the professor.

PUTMAN: Oh, Ginney, Ginney.

We'll all be with you soon.

Me, Mommy, Tom.

You like Tom, don't you?

(SIGHS) The world is rotten, darling.

Bad men, all bad.

Better dead.

All the same, all together.

No matter, he can't hear us now.

What do you mean, Doctor?

You can't fool the subconscious.

He knows she's dead.

Oh.

I didn't mean to... Oh, it's not your fault, Burke.

It's us, all of us.

Can a man remain a genius when his mind is clouded by delusion?

No.

But by your pretending that Ginney was still alive,

you took over his delusion.

He could be objective and finish his work.

But he was talking as if he was going to see her.

Yes, and the only way to do that is to die.

And he can't commit conscious suicide, you see, that's the conflict.

The conflict that leads to insanity.

And the desperate need to escape from opposing problems.

And that is the man

who worked out the means to create fission

with non-radioactive materials.

What are you saying, Doctor?

Do I have to explain?

But look, it's madness to give them the wrong formula.

Madness or perhaps the perfect solution.

Is it... Is it too late?

I'm afraid it is.

When our world goes up in flames,

he'll be revenged on the murder of his little girl.

And at the same time,

he'll be with her in the only way he can.

(RUMBLING)