First Aired: December 11, 1963
(Introductory Commercial: Man in suit is smoking a cigarette.)
Man: Men, have you ever stayed up all night because you didn’t want to stop smoking? That leaves you pretty tired at the office next day! Do we ever have the answer for you. Treat yourself to TwiLights, the first cigarette you can smoke in your sleep. Buy a carton now and get a free TwiLighter. That’s right, say goodbye to matches with this ultra-modern, sleek, indestructible cigarette lighter. Yes, indestructible! You may not survive the fire you set in your bed, but your lighter will!
TV Announcer: Tonight’s cast includes Anne Francis as Lizzie, Inger Stevens as Emma, Burgess Meredith as Mr. Borden, Joan Blondell as Mrs. Borden, Jack Klugman as Uncle John, and Donna Douglas as the maid, Maggie. Here is your host, Rod Serling.
(Rod Serling stands before the camera. He is smoking a cigarette.)
Serling: You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into... the Twilight Zone.
(Fall River, Massachusetts. July 4, 1892. The first scene takes place in a dark, unkempt bedroom, with heavy mahogany furniture, vintage late Victorian period. An elderly man in a tobacco-stained suit is assiduously trying to hang himself. Enter the maid, who opens a bureau drawer.)
Mr. Borden: (Testily) Cannot a man go hang himself quietly from the clothes rod in his bedroom closet without these constant interruptions?
Maggie: (In an Irish accent) Sure, and I’m only trying to find Miss Lizzie’s spare eyeball.
Mr. Borden: It rolled under the horsehair sofa when the cat was playing with it yesterday. If you ever swept under the furniture, you’d have known that. (Going to the bedroom doorway) Mrs. Borden! Lizzie! Emma! I want you all in the sitting room immediately. I have an announcement to make.
(The family, including Uncle John, convenes in the appointed space.)
Mr. Borden: I don’t see Emma here.
Lizzie: Emma has gone to Fairhaven to get an abortion.
Mrs. Borden: For shame, Lizzie! That was Emma’s little secret. You wouldn’t want me to tell Uncle John here about your webbed feet, would you?
Mr. Borden: (Clearing his throat loudly, spitting, and missing the spittoon) I didn’t convene this family meeting to listen to your idle chatter, Lizzie. I have done so to announce that my staunchest belt is missing from my drawer. I need it to hang myself from the clothes rod in my bedroom closet. Lizzie’s garter belt won’t do, substantial though it may be.
Lizzie: Father! I cannot believe you pillaged my bloomer drawer! How unseemly!
Uncle John: (Peering at Lizzie) Niece, why are you squinting? (Slaps his knee) Ah ha! You’ve taken out your glass eyeball!
Mrs. Borden (Gleefully) Tell us again how you lost your eye, Lizzie. Uncle John never did hear the whole story!
Lizzie: And he never will! What goes on between a young woman and her bird is her own business!
Uncle John: Now that you mention it, I see you have replaced your flock of pigeons. How did you manage on your slim allowance?
Mrs. Borden: Ha! That’s the only thing slim about Lizzie.
Lizzie: This, from a woman who could have her own zip code! To answer your question, Uncle John, I bought the pigeons with my soap money.
Uncle John: What do you make the soap out of?
Lizzie: My toenail parings.
Mrs. Borden: (a tad belatedly) If having a zip code means I’m fat, you’re in for it, Missy!
(Mr. Borden exits the room.)
Uncle John: By the way, Lizzie, I have a mouth organ you might be interested in.
Lizzie: Why, yes, I’d like to play it.
Uncle John: It’s in my pants. Come get it.
Fade to Black and... Commercial Break:
(Man in suit, and smoking a cigarette, holds a box of laundry detergent.)
Man: Ladies, have you ever thrown your hands up in despair on wash day when you can’t get the mysterious red stains out of your husband’s collars? Or the blood stains on Johnny’s school uniform after Sister Mary of the Multiple Miseries punched the little dickens in the nose? No need to panic! Our new miracle detergent, Grime, will add soil to any clothing with permanent stains-- to even out the look of the garment-- and make Monday “Fun Day” in the laundry room. And this week only: Buy the large box and get double green stamps! You’ll need all the green stamps you can get after your husband and his lady friend abscond to South America!
(Mr. Borden re-enters the sitting room, covered in feathers.)
Lizzie: Father! You haven’t killed all my pigeons again! Have you no heart or no conscience? How do you sleep at night?
Mr. Borden: (In triumph) Diagonally! I have another announcement to make... Daughter Emma has returned from Fairhaven!
(Emma, somewhat wilted, enters.)
Emma: The temperature is 94 degrees and climbing. I believe that’s a record here in Fall River.
Mrs. Borden: Just the right sort of weather to heat up yesterday’s pancakes, last week’s mutton, and those cookies that have been moldering in the cupboard since last Christmas!
Lizzie: Bah! Exactly the breakfast we had yesterday.
Emma: Why would you heat up the cookies?
Mr. Borden: Don’t forget the tumblers of fresh, frothy milk, Mrs. Borden!
(Maggie, overhearing this, pokes her head through the kitchen doorway.)
Maggie: Pardon me asking, Mr. B., but do ye mind if the fresh, frothy milk has a thin coating of scum on the surface?
Mr. Borden: Even better!
Emma: How shall we celebrate Independence Day?
Mr. Borden: Why, we shall all attend the Fourth Annual Fall River Fireman and Fiddlesticks Festival! The Borden family axe will be on display!
Lizzie: (Chuckling) Father is in for a Fourth of July surprise!
Mr. Borden: What? What is it? Are my pants on fire?
Mrs. Borden: Think, Mr. Borden! Wouldn’t you be the first to know?
Uncle John: Has the fire house burned down?
Lizzie: (Winking) Not yet, Uncle John!
Mr. Borden: I demand to know, Lizzie! Have you done something with the family axe?
Lizzie: Let’s just say we won’t be seeing Emma’s suitor at the festival tonight!
(A collective gasp from the rest of the family.)
Mr. Borden: Shame on you, Lizzie! Just when we thought we were about to unload a persistent, forty-one-year-old, financial burden!
(The cat, who has been digging beneath the horsehair sofa, bats an ovoid, dusty object from its hiding place. The object rolls slowly towards Lizzie’s size 11 feet. Lizzie plucks it up eagerly, and without brushing it off, pops it deftly in where it belongs.)
Lizzie: There! My eye’s in its socket, and all’s right with the world!
(Fade to Black)
(Introductory Commercial: Man in suit is smoking a cigarette.)
Man: Men, have you ever stayed up all night because you didn’t want to stop smoking? That leaves you pretty tired at the office next day! Do we ever have the answer for you. Treat yourself to TwiLights, the first cigarette you can smoke in your sleep. Buy a carton now and get a free TwiLighter. That’s right, say goodbye to matches with this ultra-modern, sleek, indestructible cigarette lighter. Yes, indestructible! You may not survive the fire you set in your bed, but your lighter will!
TV Announcer: Tonight’s cast includes Anne Francis as Lizzie, Inger Stevens as Emma, Burgess Meredith as Mr. Borden, Joan Blondell as Mrs. Borden, Jack Klugman as Uncle John, and Donna Douglas as the maid, Maggie. Here is your host, Rod Serling.
(Rod Serling stands before the camera. He is smoking a cigarette.)
Serling: You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into... the Twilight Zone.
(Fall River, Massachusetts. July 4, 1892. The first scene takes place in a dark, unkempt bedroom, with heavy mahogany furniture, vintage late Victorian period. An elderly man in a tobacco-stained suit is assiduously trying to hang himself. Enter the maid, who opens a bureau drawer.)
Mr. Borden: (Testily) Cannot a man go hang himself quietly from the clothes rod in his bedroom closet without these constant interruptions?
Maggie: (In an Irish accent) Sure, and I’m only trying to find Miss Lizzie’s spare eyeball.
Mr. Borden: It rolled under the horsehair sofa when the cat was playing with it yesterday. If you ever swept under the furniture, you’d have known that. (Going to the bedroom doorway) Mrs. Borden! Lizzie! Emma! I want you all in the sitting room immediately. I have an announcement to make.
(The family, including Uncle John, convenes in the appointed space.)
Mr. Borden: I don’t see Emma here.
Lizzie: Emma has gone to Fairhaven to get an abortion.
Mrs. Borden: For shame, Lizzie! That was Emma’s little secret. You wouldn’t want me to tell Uncle John here about your webbed feet, would you?
Mr. Borden: (Clearing his throat loudly, spitting, and missing the spittoon) I didn’t convene this family meeting to listen to your idle chatter, Lizzie. I have done so to announce that my staunchest belt is missing from my drawer. I need it to hang myself from the clothes rod in my bedroom closet. Lizzie’s garter belt won’t do, substantial though it may be.
Lizzie: Father! I cannot believe you pillaged my bloomer drawer! How unseemly!
Uncle John: (Peering at Lizzie) Niece, why are you squinting? (Slaps his knee) Ah ha! You’ve taken out your glass eyeball!
Mrs. Borden (Gleefully) Tell us again how you lost your eye, Lizzie. Uncle John never did hear the whole story!
Lizzie: And he never will! What goes on between a young woman and her bird is her own business!
Uncle John: Now that you mention it, I see you have replaced your flock of pigeons. How did you manage on your slim allowance?
Mrs. Borden: Ha! That’s the only thing slim about Lizzie.
Lizzie: This, from a woman who could have her own zip code! To answer your question, Uncle John, I bought the pigeons with my soap money.
Uncle John: What do you make the soap out of?
Lizzie: My toenail parings.
Mrs. Borden: (a tad belatedly) If having a zip code means I’m fat, you’re in for it, Missy!
(Mr. Borden exits the room.)
Uncle John: By the way, Lizzie, I have a mouth organ you might be interested in.
Lizzie: Why, yes, I’d like to play it.
Uncle John: It’s in my pants. Come get it.
Fade to Black and... Commercial Break:
(Man in suit, and smoking a cigarette, holds a box of laundry detergent.)
Man: Ladies, have you ever thrown your hands up in despair on wash day when you can’t get the mysterious red stains out of your husband’s collars? Or the blood stains on Johnny’s school uniform after Sister Mary of the Multiple Miseries punched the little dickens in the nose? No need to panic! Our new miracle detergent, Grime, will add soil to any clothing with permanent stains-- to even out the look of the garment-- and make Monday “Fun Day” in the laundry room. And this week only: Buy the large box and get double green stamps! You’ll need all the green stamps you can get after your husband and his lady friend abscond to South America!
(Mr. Borden re-enters the sitting room, covered in feathers.)
Lizzie: Father! You haven’t killed all my pigeons again! Have you no heart or no conscience? How do you sleep at night?
Mr. Borden: (In triumph) Diagonally! I have another announcement to make... Daughter Emma has returned from Fairhaven!
(Emma, somewhat wilted, enters.)
Emma: The temperature is 94 degrees and climbing. I believe that’s a record here in Fall River.
Mrs. Borden: Just the right sort of weather to heat up yesterday’s pancakes, last week’s mutton, and those cookies that have been moldering in the cupboard since last Christmas!
Lizzie: Bah! Exactly the breakfast we had yesterday.
Emma: Why would you heat up the cookies?
Mr. Borden: Don’t forget the tumblers of fresh, frothy milk, Mrs. Borden!
(Maggie, overhearing this, pokes her head through the kitchen doorway.)
Maggie: Pardon me asking, Mr. B., but do ye mind if the fresh, frothy milk has a thin coating of scum on the surface?
Mr. Borden: Even better!
Emma: How shall we celebrate Independence Day?
Mr. Borden: Why, we shall all attend the Fourth Annual Fall River Fireman and Fiddlesticks Festival! The Borden family axe will be on display!
Lizzie: (Chuckling) Father is in for a Fourth of July surprise!
Mr. Borden: What? What is it? Are my pants on fire?
Mrs. Borden: Think, Mr. Borden! Wouldn’t you be the first to know?
Uncle John: Has the fire house burned down?
Lizzie: (Winking) Not yet, Uncle John!
Mr. Borden: I demand to know, Lizzie! Have you done something with the family axe?
Lizzie: Let’s just say we won’t be seeing Emma’s suitor at the festival tonight!
(A collective gasp from the rest of the family.)
Mr. Borden: Shame on you, Lizzie! Just when we thought we were about to unload a persistent, forty-one-year-old, financial burden!
(The cat, who has been digging beneath the horsehair sofa, bats an ovoid, dusty object from its hiding place. The object rolls slowly towards Lizzie’s size 11 feet. Lizzie plucks it up eagerly, and without brushing it off, pops it deftly in where it belongs.)
Lizzie: There! My eye’s in its socket, and all’s right with the world!
(Fade to Black)