You're traveling through another dimension.
A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind.
A journey into a wondrous land of imagination.
Next stop, the twilight zone.
Edna.
Huh?
What about gas and electric?
What?
The gas and electric bill. How many months is that?
Four months. That's one you better pay.
Huh. That's one I can't pay.
Oh, I wish...
How are you, mrs. Gumley?
Oh, just fine, mr. Castle. How have you been?
Oh, can't complain.
Been having a lot of rain, haven't we?
Mm, quite a bit of rain for this time of the year.
Really.
It's good for the flowers.
How's that?
An heirloom today, mr. Castle.
An heirloom, mrs. Gumley?
Oh, yes, Mr. Castle. Been in my family for years and years.
It's supposed to be very valuable.
Hand-blown glass is what it is.
Really?
Uh-huh.
Mrs. Gumley, it's just a plain old wine bottle.
Do you know what it's worth? Nothing.
If you could find the store where it came from, that's what they would g/ve you for it, mrs. Gumley. Nothing.
I could let it go f-for a dollar.
Mrs. Gumley, if I could spare a dollar, I'd give it to you, believe me I would, but...
Well, things have been rough here. I'm so in debt myself...
I wish I could make it more. I really do.
Thank you, Mr. Castle.
You're a wonderful man. God bless you.
Mr. Castle, it's not an heirloom, you know.
I found it in an ash can.
Please, Mr. Castle, forgive me for lying.
Aw, that's all right, Mrs. Gumley.
Who knows? Maybe it'll turn out to be an heirloom.
Yeah.
Thank you.
Gorgeous.
She has to eat, doesn't she?
You don't?
Arthur, we're just around the corner from bankruptcy.
You promised me, no more handouts.
Look, edna, maybe all I've got left is to try to find some poor clod who / could feel sorry for.
Maybe a man can be a failure for only so long, and then, then...
And then it catches up with him.
Look at it, edna! Look at it!
The legacy of a hundred years.
My grandfather owned it, and it broke his heart.
And then, my father. It k*lled him, too.
Look at it. Look at it. The meanness of it, the shabbiness of it, the hand-to-mouth of ithit isn't just an antique shop where you pick up the pitiful remnants of other people's failures.
It's a shrine to failure itself, that's what it is!
It's a mausoleum, a burial ground for, for people's hopes.
Edna, what happens to us anyway? What happens to us?
We're not old people, and yet this place is making us old.
There must be years ahead of us that come without scrimping and counting, and picking over checkbooks and budgets and final notices and old bills.
Hey.
Hey!
Mr. And mrs. Arthur castle, gentle and infinitely patient people whose lives have been a hope chest with a rusty lock and a lost set of keys.
But, in just a moment, that hope chest will be opened, and an improbable phantom will try to bedeck the drabness of these two people's failure-laden lives with the gold and precious stones of fulfillment.
Mr. And Mrs. Arthur castle, standing on the outskirts and about to enter the twilight zone.
How do you do?
Rather than go into any lengthy generic explanation of my existence, suffice it to say that I am a genie.
That's quite correct. A genie.
I can offer you four wishes with a guaranteed performance.
Well, Mr. Castle?
Mrs. Castle?
What have you in mind?
Arthur, what's happening to us?
He's a hypnotist or something.
Nothing of the sort.
I grant four wishes to the owner, then go back inside the bottle for a century and a year until a summons comes from the next owner.
Now, I think the business at hand is for you and Mrs. Castle to decide upon the nature of your four wishes, keeping in mind, of course...
Edna.
That each wish is irrevocable.
Once made, it is fulfilled. And, once fulfilled, it is a matter of record.
It can only be altered by yet another wish.
Clear, Mr. Castle?
I think we'd better call the police.
Wish for them.!/ can bring you scotland yard, the federal bureau of investigation, or every bobby in the city of london.
Is it the police you want?
No. That is not what we would wish for.
Arthur, you out of your mind? You believe him?
Please go on, mr. Castle. You were saying?
Well, if I had a wish, just for the sake of argument, I'd say I wanted that broken glass in that case to be fixed.
Would you like to make it official, Mr. Castle?
Well, mr, castle, is that your wish?
Yes, that is my wish.
I want that glass in that display case to be repaired.
Well, Mr. Castle?
You have three wishes left.
Three wishes.
Three wishes, edna, three wishes.
Anything we want. Well, think, think. What do we want?
Nothing, arthur. I want nothing.
A new shop. An expensive shop on fifth avenue.
We could have that just for the asking.
Or money, edna, money!
$100,000!
$200,000! A million!
Edna, edna, we wouldn't have to grub anymore.
We wouldn't have to sit here and waste our lives away.
Arthur, no. There's something unholy about this.
Clothes, edna, expensive clothes.
Jewels, a beautiful house! Anything we want, edna!
No more worries for the rest of our lives.
Money.
Money? The simplest, mr. Castle.
How much, and in what denominations?
How much do we want?
I don't know. I don't know!
Uh, yeah.
A million dollars, right here on the floor, in five and ten-dollar bills.
That's what we want! A million dollars!
Ask and you shall receive, Mr. Castle.
Edna, edna/!
Edna! A million dollars, edna!
A million dollars! A million dollars!
Edna, look!
A million!
Wait, wait, wait. So... wait, wait, wait. So he says, wait. So he says, "money? So much money for me."
I thought maybe she's a go-outta-style!
Here you are, my friend. Here you are.
You pay off that mortgage and have yourself. Start living again. That's it.
Here you are, my dear. You take yourself that vacation.
And bring back a boyfriend. Don't forget.
Mrs. Gumley. Oh, my dear.
Here. Here. More. More!
Mrs. Gumley, god bless you. God bless you.
Here you are, my dear.
No, no, no, no. You take that home with you.
Here you are, reverend. Don't you worry. This is honest money.
You take it and get that church painted. Yes, sir, and thank you.
Yes, dolly, here you are. Come here.
You tell angelo to get himself a new truck with red wheels. Remember.
Here you are, my...
No need. My card, mr. Castle.
Office of internal revenue.
Yes, that's correct. There's a matter of an income tax, Mr. Castle.
Just send us the bill and we'll pay it.
But send us the bill in a hurry, would you, please?
My wife and I will be taking off for europe very shortly.
Dependents?
The whole neighborhood.
Oh, no. They don't count.
Uh... what does that figure there mean?
A million dollars, mr. Castle.
Taxed on the basis of a husband and wife, using the standard deductions, you owe the government approximately $907,000.
What?
Yes, that's correct. Then, in addition, there's a state income tax involved which using thumb rule the whole thing comes to a total of, roughly, mind you, $942,640.
Arthur, we've already given away a lot of money.
Well, now, if you'll just fill out this form and send it to us with your check?
Oh, uh, if you want to use the installment plan, we'll send you a statement after the form has been analyzed.
Uh, Mr. Castle?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just send us a bill.
Well, we'll be seeing you, mr. Castle.
Good evening, mrs. Castle.
Well?
Wait.
910,530.910,535.910,540.
We gave away almost $60,000.
And this goes to taxes.
And this...
And this...
$five?
Yeah.
Quite a wish, arthur. Quite a wish.
And we haven't even paid those bills, yet.
Mr. Castle.
It was my suggestion that you reflect very carefully, Mr. Castle.
Very, very carefully.
Now, had you made a wish that took into account the taxes involved...
Oh. Look, you.
Plenty of sweet talk and promises and the whole thing, and all the time you're nothing but a con artist.
This time I want the million dollars, but I want it after...
Arthur! No more money.
You gotta wish for something else.
Something else.
How about ten more wishes? Or twenty?
Don't be in such a hurry, arthur.
Then you think of something!
I'm afraid wishing for more wishes isn't permitted, Mr. Castle.
Frankly, I'd be afraid to have you try for fear of the consequences.
What consequences?
Why do you keep losing your temper?
Well, you're no help for me. That's for sure!
Here we stand in this crummy little shop with the whole world out in front of us, with anything to wish for that we want, and you just stay on my back...
Arthur!
Edna.
Wha... what's happening with us?
What's going on?
Oddly enough, Mr. Castle, this is the normal pattern that seems to be generally followed.
Great excitement, great emotionalism.
Strangely enough, hard to believe though it may be, only a modicum of happiness.
Well, you got a couple of cheap customers here, mister.
People that haven't known much happiness.
What? What? What do we wish for?
I wish I knew, arthur. I don't know!
What about it, genie? What can we wish for now?
Wha-what can come to us without tricks?
Without tricks! I question the semantics here, Mr. Castle.
There are no tricks involved.
There are simply normal and understandable outgrowths and conditions that go with any windfall.
No matter what you wish for, you must be prepared for the consequences.
Something without consequences.
Something dead sure.
Something anchored, something airtight.
Edna, I think I got it.
I think I know what it is.
What, arthur?
Power. Power, edna.
To be in charge of something.
The boss. To be a leader.
We could wish for that.
Possible. Very poss/ble.
President of a corporation? That sort of thing?
He could go bankrupt.
Mayor of a city?
You get voted out of office. Then what?
Wait a minute, wait a minute.
I know what.
Head of a country. Ruler of a whole country.
That's it.
What about it, genie?
I wanna be the head of a country who can't be voted out of office.
Do you want to be more specific than that?
Wait a minute.
Let me give it to you this way.
I want to be the head of a foreign country who can't be voted out of office, but it must be a contemporary country.
Contemporary?
Within this century.
No problems.
What about consequences?
Consequences, Mr. Castle?
I've already told you.
You run the risk of consequences no matter what you wish for.
All right, then.
Go ahead, arthur. You wish for that.
I want to be the ruler of a foreign country, just as I've described it.
Go ahead, genie. Take over.
As you wish, Mr. Castle.
From now on, it's just a mass su1c1de.
Well, what about it, fuhrer?
Head of a country. Can't be voted out of office.
I'm h*tler. I'm in a bunker.
It's the end of the w*r.
Mein fuhrer.
What you asked for.
Very quick, and very painless, mein fuhrer.
And we have the gasoline outside for you and Miss braun
when you finish.
I wish... I wish I were back where it all started.
I wish I were arthur castle again!
What's the matter, arthur? You look so funny.
What happened?
I had a wish fulfilled.
Number four.
All the wishes ended the same way.
In fragments, little pieces.
Funny thing, though.
This place, this...
This place doesn't look half bad.
You all right?
Oh, I'm fine.
Well, maybe we'll stop wishing for a while.
And, since we obviously can't afford a brand-new life, suppose we give the old one a paint job or something?
I think that's a very good idea.
What are you laughing at?
We came out of it ahead anyway.
Shouldn't be a total loss.
A word to the wise now to the garbage collectors of the world, to the curio seekers, to the antique buffs, to everyone who would try to coax out a miracle from unlikely places.
Check that bottle you're taking back for a two-cent deposit.
The genie you save might be your own.
Case in point, mr. And mrs. Arthur castle, fresh from the briefest of trips into the twilight zone.
Rod serling, the creator of the twilight zone, will tell you about next week's story after this word from our alternate sponsor.
And now, Mr. Serling.
Next week, we take you into this eight by eight hotel room, and we watch a penny-ante crook make a decision.
You better ask the room clerk the number of this room, and then come on up.
Mr. Joe mantell is the nervous man in the $4-room.
That's the twilight zone next week, and we'll be waiting for you.
Thank you and goodnight.