Original subtitles

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

NARRATOR: 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.

MAN [INSIDE]: Now, here is this prizefighter

who made this vow to this girl.

If this one ain't surefire, I'll cut off both my hands.

I'll absolutely cut off both my hands.

You ready? Are you ready?

Champion of the World, Kirk Douglas, maybe.

Burt Lancaster.

You want to make him younger?

Tony Curtis.

I give you Tony Curtis.

I appreciate it.

So now he's champion of the world

but he's made a promise to this girl never to fight again.

You know, like a vow.

Vow, Mr. Hugo. It's like a promise.

I mean, like solemn.

And now, comes the meat.

This is what grabs you right here.

He's got to fight, but he promised his girl.

And when he tells her, she's aghast.

This broad is palpitating.

She calls the champion a filthy, rotten, dirty…

She's adamant, is that what you mean?

Oh, is this girl adamant.

She's adamant like nobody ever was adamant.

WOMAN: Mr. Hugo?

You're wanted on line one.

Bless you.

Excuse me, Julius.

See, the beauty of this story

is you can couch it in so many terms.

Maybe he ain't a prizefighter.

Maybe he's a cowboy, a top gun,

and he promised his girl never to carry a gun again.

Maybe it's the girl's kid brother

who has this incurable disease. [CHUCKLES]

What's the matter?

That don't grip?

Why don't you go downstairs

and cross the street against a red light?

HUGO: Bye.

How about if it was a science fiction piece?

This rocket man makes a promise to his girl

never to go up in a spaceship again.

You've been here all morning.

I'll give you this.

I've been an agent for 23 years

and I have never heard

of so many variations of the same story.

Would you mind going home?

I've got a big deal cooking, it's very complicated.

A big deal!

You, you, you mean actually like a big deal?

Oh, you doll baby.

You absolute doll baby.

You were saving it for a surprise, weren't you?

That's what you were doing,

bet you made a sale, right, Mr. Hugo?

You made a sale.

Ah, the zombie story!

I should have known it.

The minute I wrote it, I knew it was surefire.

Absolute surefire.

It's a fantastic yarn, honey.

It's about this dame who marries a guy

who walks on his heels all the time.

She thinks he's punchy, but it turns out he's dead.

All the time they're married, she don't know he's dead.

Julius, let me put it to you this way:

The zombie story didn't sell.

The love story where the lady scientist falls in love with a robot?

That didn't sell.

Your Western where the president

of the Union Pacific Railroad

turns out to be Belle Starr?

That didn't sell.

Your idea of changing The Millionaire

into The Multimillionaire

and making an hour show of it?

This they laughed me right out of the office with.

So I have to put it up to you.

I really simply have to put it up to you.

Why in the world do you persist?

Can you answer me?

Why do you persist?

Why don't you go back to doing what you did before?

A streetcar conductor?

Mr. Hugo, it's like progress.

There ain't no more streetcars.

Besides, I get travel sickness.

Let me put it to you this way:

Number one, you will never make a writer.

Number two, you'll starve to death if you try.

Number three, you're wasting your time,

my time, producers' time, everybody's time.

Phone Jerry Bauscher at Paramount.

See when he's through there.

Tell him I've got a television series.

But that's my meat, a television series.

Mr. Hugo, don't you get it?

It's like a bolt from heaven.

I got so many television series ideas

I don't sleep nights.

I got television series ideas

what nobody never thought of.

Boy meets girl.

Every week, a different boy and girl.

-Julius… -How about a quiz show?

Pick Your Own Embalmer.

The contestant, when he kicks off…

Julius, what do I have to do,

what do I have to say to get you out of here?

Give me a chance.

Give me first dibs at this, uh,

this… this television series thing or whatever it is.

Let me do the pilot, please.

Julius, my boy, sit down.

Julius, I'm not a hard man.

I'm not a mean man.

But the television industry is looking for talent, for quality.

They're preoccupied with talent and quality.

And the writer is a major commodity.

Let me give it a try.

Let me give it a whirl.

I mean, let me walk it around the block

a couple of times.

What about this series?

Maybe it and me can go together.

Well, that's the point.

This particular series and you go together

like the black and tan at an Irish Republican Army picnic.

The series happens to be about black magic,

conjuring, that kind of thing.

Now…

What do you know about black magic?

[LAUGHING] Oh, ho… Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.

What do I know about it?

[LAUGHING] What do I know about black magic and conjuring?

Oh, come on.

I could research it.

Julius, would you leave me now?

Please.

Will you let me get back to my work?

Oh, let me have a try at this series, please.

Why can't I research it?

Look, Mr. Hugo, Mr. Hugo, my career is on the line.

Give me till next Wednesday.

Make it Tuesday?

Look, look, in a pinch,

I'll have something for you by Monday.

All right, all right, Julius.

Latch on to a couple of books, knock out a rough draft,

and let me have it by four o'clock Monday.

I'll submit it for you.

Why, I'll never know, but I'll submit it for you.

Oh, Mr. Hugo, you won't live to regret it.

And I mean it from the cockles of my heart.

You're probably dead right, Julius.

And I mean it from the cockles of my heart.

Oh… thank you, thank you.

NARRATOR: You've just witnessed opportunity,

if not knocking, at least scratching plaintively

on a closed door.

Mr. Julius Moomer, a would-be writer,

who, if talent came 25 cents a pound,

would be worth less than carfare.

But in a moment, Mr. Moomer,

through the offices of some black magic,

is about to embark on a brand-new career.

And although he may never get a writing credit

on The Twilight Zone,

he's to become an integral character in it.

[SHOP BELL RINGS]

[BASEBALL GAME PLAYING ON RADIO]

MALE ANNOUNCER: A slider that broke outside, one and one.

Now Tom Haller jogs out to the mound to talk to Sanford.

That might've been a missed signal there.

Haller seemed to be looking for the fastball.

-The one and one pitch. -[BAT CONNECTING WITH BALL]

Chacon swings and lifts an easy fly ball to center field.

Willie Mays in and makes the basket catch.

That brings up Gil Hodges, one down, bottom of the sixth.

What do you think about him?

Who?

Gil Hodges.

Can you explain how anybody in their right mind

could get rid of Gil Hodges?

Well, I, I suppose…

Suppose that's all in the point of view.

Precisely. Absolutely.

You've got a good mind, young man.

Extremely good mind.

Th… Thank you.

It's the top of the sixth,

the Giants are leading the Mets, six to two.

Excuse me a minute.

[RADIO SHUTS OFF]

He's out.

Who?

Gil Hodges.

Now, uh, what will it be for you?

Well, um… [CLEARS THROAT]

Um… I'd like to see a keat.

[LAUGHING]

That's a man's name, not a thing.

And it's not a very uncommon name at that, Keats.

There was a third baseman, came up from Newark

played for the Yankees one year.

They used to call him Beanball Keats.

He held the American League record two seasons in a row

for getting beaned the most times.

[LAUGHS] Old Beanball Keats.

[LAUGHS NERVOUSLY]

Well, you learn something new every day, don't you?

Did you ever hear of a pitcher named Slattery?

String Bean Slattery?

Well, I, uh…

There was a beanball artist.

Um, he could hit a batter when he was still in the dugout.

As a matter of fact, he did one day.

Hit a third base coach.

Now, where were we?

Well, I, I don't think

it makes too much difference.

You see, what I came in to ask about, uh…

Well, I wanted to know if, uh…

Well, what I have on my mind is, uh…

What do you got on black magic?

Black magic?

I'm Julius Moomer from television.

Now, what is it you wanted?

Black magic.

Books on black magic.

Oh, I'm afraid not.

I'm afraid that one eludes me.

[THUD]

Ye Book of ye Black Arte.

Hey, lady, do that trick again.

This book and I have never been introduced.

We're total strangers.

Here, you want black magic?

You got black magic.

It's been a real pleasure meeting you.

A real pleasure.

You didn't happen to play third base

for the Elmira Pioneers one year, did you?

How much do I owe you for the book?

Oh, nothing, nothing, accept it as a gift.

You're a wonderful ball player and a credit to the sport.

It's been wonderful having this chat.

Va-va-voom.

Za-za-zoom.

Va-va-voom.

Ipsy-dipsy.

Va-va-voom.

DRIVER: All right, buddy.

This is public transportation,

and there's rules about bugging the driver.

Who, me?

You! Out!

Ara-gatum… basilitant-ee…

Roga-bottom-um… nordoff.

Hey, Julius, what's the bit?

What are you doing?

Ah, whatever I was doing,

I wasn't doing it right.

Ah. Black magic, black schmagic.

There's more here than meets the eyeballs.

I done everything it says and nothing.

Ye Book of ye Black Arte:

Being a Step-By-Step Education in Conjuring.

So tell me, Faust, to what end?

Cora, I am standing on the threshold.

I… I mean, I'm hovering.

One of these days

there's gonna be a big long limousine parked down below

-with two lizardy coachmen… -Liveried.

That's what I mean.

In uniform.

And they're gonna rap on your door

and invite you and your old lady downstairs

for a night on the town with their boss

that eminent, well-known, highly popular

beloved Wurlitzer Prize-winner…

Pulitzer.

That's the guy.

Who you gonna find on the back seat

smoking a buck cigar? Hmm?

Modesty prohibits.

Just as a point of interest, Julius,

what are you doing?

[SCOFFING]

Don't you dig?

I'm conjuring, baby, I'm conjuring.

Conjuring who?

Who knows? I just read this here book

and I got me all the ingredients

or most of them, anyway.

Man.

"Four tufts of feathers from a falcon…"

I got 'em from a pigeon.

Uh… "Sand from Egypt…"

I still had some in my sneakers from Jones Beach.

"Three legs of a spider…"

I found me an ant.

Well, anyway, that and with a few improvisations

I got me a spell working here.

When my mother finds out what you're doing,

you better conjure up the Army and the Navy.

You're gonna need them.

Anyone ever tell you you were a dirty rotten kid?

Why don't you go take a cold shower?

Go ahead, get out of here.

I'll turn you into a frog!

Oh, I don't know exactly what's going to happen

but it better happen soon.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Za-za-zoom.

Ala-kazam.

Va-va-voom!

Ah, what's the use?

[SIGHING]

Oh.

Oh, man.

What do they think I am, William Shakespeare?

Now, look, pal.

I, uh, I don't want you

to take this personal, but, uh,

like a guy should maybe knock

when he comes into a room, huh?

I mean, uh, some people ain't as with-it as me.

They take one look at you and they get a blast of a coronary.

They get all shook up.

Now, me, I can handle these things.

I mean, I'm with it.

Give me a stick, I'll beat it to death.

I await your pleasure.

Look, look, what do you want from me already?

Prithee, good sir, ask not what I want of thee

but what does thou ask of William Shakespeare.

Would you try that one again?

It appears I must speak

in the parlance of the time… your time.

I simply said, good sir, it was you who conjured up me,

and I'm at your service.

What would you ask of me?

Look… level with me, pops, will you?

You mean to say that you're the Shakespeare?

Man, you've been dead a thousand years.

It is true, of course.

But death is relative and need not be the end.

You required a service of me.

Hence, I am at your disposal.

"He speaks, yet he says nothing."

Romeo and Juliet, act two, scene two.

Quaint.

Decidedly quaint.

A writing machine, perchance?

I presume that is the mission.

You would ask me to compose a sonnet, perchance, or a play?

You have but to ask, mister…

Moomer, is it?

You… You mean…

You mean you could knock me out a couple of pieces?

Good sir, you have but to ask.

What nature of authorship would you require?

Well, um… how about if, uh…

How about if…

I'm going to waste William Shakespeare

on a lousy half-hour pilot?

I got me an idea, Will.

You don't mind if I call you Will?

"What's in a name?

"That which we call a rose by any other name"

would smell as sweet."

Oh, man, what language.

Don't let nobody knock your stuff, Will.

Man, you got potential.

You are loaded with potential.

Here's what we're going to do.

You and me are going to collaborate.

What I mean is, you do the rough draft

and I'll do the polishing.

Now, I'll tell you what.

We'll go slow at first, just till you get the feel of it,

and then, we'll do an hour film.

Something with, um, star attraction.

You know, like, uh… Ingrid Bergman.

Ingrid Bergman?

You never heard of Ingrid Bergman?

Where you been, pal?

Never mind, don't tell me.

"A comely woman, I take it, one fairer than my love.

"The all-seeing sun ne'er saw her match"

since first the world begun."

Solid, Will, now that's the kind of stuff

that's going to win ball games.

You just start writing,

anything that comes to mind.

Uh, maybe a twist on the Romeo-Juliet thing.

Oh, swear not by the moon,

that crazy moon.

Go ahead, bubbee, write.

[BELL RINGS]

If you don't mind.

Mind? Will, baby, I don't care if you write with your feet.

Here, here, I'll move the typewriter for you.

Give you some ink. There we are.

Go ahead, Will, you create.

I'll go make some coffee.

[SINGING TO SELF EXCITEDLY]

Gilbert and Sullivan.

Lerner and Loewe.

Rimsky and Korsakov.

Moomer and Shakespeare.

What are they saying?

I just asked you a question.

What are they talking about?

What do I look like, a radar set?

I presume they're talking about your script.

That's the point, honey, what's there to talk about?

That stuff is poetry, it's, well, uh, it's…

It's Shakespearean!

Good afternoon.

Is Mr. Bramhoff in there with Mr. Hugo?

We're from the network.

They're expecting you, sir, go right in.

Yes?

Something?

You got a light?

No, I don't got a light.

Look, it just so happens that you don't know

who you're talking to.

Bramhoff, the big-shot producer?

Two guys from the network?

Oh, man, I knew it was good,

but I didn't know it was that good.

It's just something I knocked off

in a couple of hours.

It's a shoo-in for the Emmy,

but I didn't know it was that important.

That's me, honey, I just don't know my own worth.

Monday, I knock myself, Tuesday, I knock myself,

Wednesday, I knock myself…

Got any outside openings for Thursday?

I'd like to make an application.

I don't know.

That's our feeling too, Mr. Bramhoff.

Sponsor-wise, the thing requires some noodling.

That is to say, we can't abruptly and perfunctorily

jump off the bridge with this one.

I mean, let's be cerebral, boys.

Well, I'll say this for it.

It's a beautifully written thing.

It's so archaic.

I mean, language-wise.

May I?

[CLEARS THROAT]

"As fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin, new-reaped,

"showed like a stubble land at harvest home."

"He was perfumed like a milliner"

"and 'twixt his finger and his thumb"

"he held a pouncet box"

and ever anon, gave it to his nose."

And, uh, "took't away again."

Well, you've got say this for it: It has imagery.

Imagery it has.

May I?

Oh, please.

"And if the boy have not a woman's gift

"to rain a shower of commanded tears"

an onion will do well for such a shift."

Onion?

Sponsor conflict.

Concur.

Could we make it a… turnip?

Solid thinking.

Turnip.

Very sociable.

Everybody knows about turnips.

You say turnip to the lady in Dubuque

she's with you.

I like it.

We could call the writer in now.

A tremendous talent.

A prodigy of mine.

What are his credits?

He was a streetcar conductor.

But a tremendous observer

of the passing scene.

An incredible judge of human beings.

You can see that in every line.

A modern-day chronicler of human foibles.

Solid.

Oh, excuse me.

[BUZZER]

AGENT: Send in Mr. Moo…

How are you, Mr. Hugo?

Wonderful. How are you?

You look fine. It's good to see you.

How are you, gentlemen?

[CHUCKLES]

Huh? Huh?

Like literature, huh?

It shows some promise.

Mr. Dolan here represents

the sponsor of Shannon Spectaculars.

The Shannon Food Corporation.

You've no doubt eaten their products.

Endlessly.

He's a Shannon booster from way back.

Man, like that's the truth.

That Shannon onion soup… this I dig.

We don't make onion soup.

That's French in origin.

We're an American firm.

Red, white and blue right down the line.

Man, I am glad you said that.

I always say, if it's good enough for the lady in Dubuque

it's good enough for Julius.

Well, let's get down to some business here.

The Tragic Cycle.

Written by… Julius Moomer.

Yours truly.

Read for you now by… yours truly.

[CLEARS THROAT]

"Act one, scene one.

The camera fades on with a shot of a garden."

PRESENTER: Twilight Zone will continue after station identification.

Well, the whole thing about writing,

the whole bit is simply that you, uh,

shouldn't get discouraged.

You gotta stay in there and keep punching.

All the time punching.

As Keats once said to the Paris edition

of the New York Herald Tribune, Keats said,

"keep punching."

Ladies and gentlemen, this is Celebrity Interviews.

Our guest tonight, Mr. Julius Moomer,

that rising young television author

whose drama production The Tragic Cycle

will be seen next week on The Shannon Classic Playhouse.

Now, a viewing reminder.

Each week on Celebrity Interviews

we bring you the personalities of show business

who make the headlines and the stories.

Playwrights, actors, actresses…

All the living legends of show business as it is today.

How about that, Will?

Verily, a most impressive performance.

Ain't that the truth?

This last question now, Mr. Moomer,

I'm told that you've been writing for some period of time.

As a matter of fact,

I think it was your agent, Mr. Hugo,

who showed me some of your earlier material.

You've come a long way, Mr. Moomer.

Well, it's like progress.

For example, one of the things I looked at was a zombie story.

Now, how about that?

That grabbed, didn't it?

Course, it was a bit controversial,

and that's why it didn't get on the air,

but I always did try to tackle controversial stuff.

I mean, ugly butchers and dog dames,

that's all right for Chayefsky, but Moomer aspires.

What I mean is, Moomer always thought tall.

There was another story you wrote, Mr. Moomer.

I seem to recollect

that it was a suggested series.

A kind of situation comedy

involving a multimillionaire.

Just plain J.P.

The whole thing there was

we're always seeing stuff

about typical husbands and wives and kids.

Why not give a nod to the… to the big shots?

I mean, what they call the "rubber barons," like that?

I mean, just because you're heeled,

that don't make you unhuman.

Hmm… I may try to reconstitute that one.

JULIUS [ON TV]: Just plain J.P…

The story that asks the question

"Can a man who makes $9 million a year

find happiness in a small mansion?"

But you gotta remember one thing.

In order to be a writer, you gotta suffer.

I mean, I still remember those…

Those cold nights in that dark attic,

with hardly enough strength to push a key.

And all the time, a small voice inside me kept saying,

"Go, Julius, go."

So I went.

Inspiring, Mr. Moomer, truly inspiring.

Ladies and gentlemen,

you've been listening to Mr. Julius Moomer.

That kind of got me.

Like here.

I, too, felt a twinge of a sort.

I believe I finished this last sequence.

Oh, good, good, good.

Ah, uh-huh, uh-huh.

Uh-huh, uh-huh.

Oh, Will, bubbee,

you got such a thing with words.

It comes from working in an attic, Mr. Moomer.

A little voice deep inside prods me

and keeps saying, "Go, William, go."

Hmm? Oh?

[CACKLES]

Oh, great, great, only great.

[SIGH OF EXHILARATION]

The Shannon Food Corporation presents…

[TOOTS LIKE A TRUMPET]

The Tragic Cycle, written by Julius Moomer.

[MORE FANFARE]

From an original story by Julius Moomer

with additional dialogue by… Julius Moomer.

[HUMMING ORCHESTRAL INTRODUCTION]

Man.

It's a good thing I'm modest, Will.

You know, a thing like this could go to a guy's head.

They're already talking to me about two and a half hour specs,

movie contracts, maybe a Broadway musical.

♪ A scub-a-dub-a doo ♪

♪ I love you ♪

♪ Put me on the stage, I'll be a rage ♪

♪ Scub-a-dub-a doo, a scub-a-dub-a doo ♪

♪ Julius Moomer will play for you ♪

♪ Racky sack, I'm flush. ♪

What's the matter, Will? You don't look good.

"Like a strutting player

whose conceit lies in his hamstring."

Troilus and Cressida, act one, scene three.

In short, Mr. Moomer,

you have not been prone to extend credit where it's due.

At no time, for example,

have I heard the name Shakespeare,

or any suggestion of collaboration.

Now wait a minute, wait a minute.

Will, baby, look, we got to play this one by ear.

How's it gonna look if I tell them

a guy named William Shakespeare helped me to write this?

They'd stick me in a rubber room in a jacket.

That as it may be, the point is, Mr. Moomer,

I finished my task.

I will now take my leave.

Take your leave?!

Are you out of your mind?

Why, this whole thing's coming up velvet!

We're riding on the gravy train.

You wanna creep back into some crypt and get forgotten?

Listen, man, you're making the scene big now.

Everybody's always talking

about how my stuff sounds like Shakespeare's.

Will, bubbee, I'm gonna make you a household word again.

With all due modesty, sir,

the name of William Shakespeare has survived the test of time

without the support of Julius Moomer.

You don't dig.

Fame flits.

I mean, who remembers yesterday's champions?

Sure, Ruth hit 60 home runs,

but it's Roger Maris they're always asking for autographs.

And Nijinsky was a pretty good dancer.

But who remembers her last movie?

And Will Shakespeare did some writing

but out of sight, out of mind.

Shakespeare is dead, long live Mickey Spillane!

Look, look, Will, baby,

Will, baby, come here.

Look, you can't desert the ship now.

I mean, what are people going to say?

That fink Shakespeare got no gratitude.

We can do it, baby, we can do it.

Look, we got a hundred projects we can do.

We'll go to Hollywood, California.

Babes out there are crazy about guys with beards.

I shall ponder it, Mr. Moomer.

Until when?

Until the morrow.

Since you have not seen fit

to invite me to the rehearsals of our play,

tomorrow I shall do precisely that.

I shall survey the actors performing,

and if justice is done to what I have wrought

perhaps I may remain for a time longer

and write other things.

Now you're talking, Will!

Now you're talking!

I think I will take a walk now.

"I am that merry wanderer of the night."

A Midsummer Night's Dream, act two, scene one.

"To be, or not to be,"

Mr. Moomer, "That…"

Go to the rehearsal?

How could he go to the rehearsal?

Will! Will!

Will, don't rock the boat!

DIRECTOR: All right, everybody.

Give me your attention, please.

We can walk through this one with scripts,

but I'd count it a personal favor

if we could get these lines learned

by Thursday at the latest.

I hate to throw complicated stage action

at you now at this point,

but you'll note that in this act,

we've got a real problem of movement.

I want to take most of this stuff in close shots

and some very rapid, sporadic cutting back and forth.

I think it'll heighten the piece tremendously.

Mr. Shannon, we feel ourselves extremely fortunate

to secure the services of Rocky Rhodes.

Rhodes, schmodes. I sell soup.

I don't nothing about actors.

Which one is Rhodes?

He's the attractive one in the sweatshirt.

That's an actor?

Well, he was brilliant in Streetcar Named Desire.

Streetcar Named Desire?

What was he, a conductor?

DIRECTOR: All right, people, we'll pick it up now.

Scene two, act two. Uh, Felicia…

Now, remember, Felicia, at this moment

life and death is waiting for you out in that hallway.

This is unequivocal.

It is life or it is death.

When Rocky comes through that door…

[IN BRANDO-LIKE DRAWL] Uh… Charlie…

Uh… question.

Question, Rocky?

Yeah, I mean, what is my, uh,

tertiary motivation here?

I mean, like, I walk through the door and, uh…

I see her.

Why?

Why what, Rocky? What's the question?

Exactly.

What is the question?

I mean, any slob can walk through a door.

Like, I do it every day.

But, well, now

maybe I shouldn't walk through the door

at that moment.

So I got to ask myself:

Would I walk through that door?

It's on the basis of that answer that I find my motivation.

So the question is what's my motivation?

Well, Rocky, baby,

why don't we just run through it

and see how it plays, shall we do that?

Let's take our places now.

Scene two of act two.

Right from the top.

[ACTOR MOOING]

[SNORTING]

[MOOS]

All right, let's go.

I don't care what you say.

If Jeremy comes here tonight

I have to go away with him.

Oh, come, Olivia.

Cast out those benighted colors

and… and gaze as a friend on Greenwich Village.

Let not forever with your veiled eyes

seek your noble boyfriend in the dust.

It is common, I know.

But all that live must die.

It's easy for you to say.

Quite easy.

But outside there, outside this room,

outside this building

is the harbinger of the worst of fates.

Is it Jeremy?

Or is it his killer?

Am I to be a correspondent of love…

Or a recipient of hate?

This is the question.

Who awaits me out there?

I ask you that.

Who awaits me?

I'm looking for Mr. Moomer.

Moomer?

Julius Moomer.

Oh, yeah, the writer.

He's sitting over there with a bunch of guys.

Thank you so much.

And your role?

My role is, uh… Jeremy.

What's yours?

Jeremy.

But Jeremy is a lad of 19,

fresh as a bridegroom.

And his chin, new-reaped

showed like a stubble land at harvest home.

Yeah, well, we changed all that.

A guy that feels love ain't no 19 years old.

The guy who plays Jeremy

has got to know what it's all about.

A mature guy, uh… who knows the score.

A guy with some 'zazz, with some moxie.

A guy who understands, uh, tertiary motivation.

DIRECTOR: Let's go, team, shall we?

May we continue, please?

Get ready for your cue, Rocky.

Rhodes is my name.

Rocky Rhodes.

You probably saw me in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?

And what, perchance, would that be?

It would be a play, Charlie.

A real play.

What are you, a Tennessee knocker?

Come on, Rocky, let's go!

It's getting so they let any uncultured uncouth ham in here.

ACTRESS: Go ahead, Seymour.

Speak the speech, I pray you

as I pronounced it to you trippingly on the tongue.

ACTOR: Shall I say it again, Esmeralda?

How's it look to you, Mr. Shannon?

Only great, isn't it?

The play?

Who knows about plays?

What about the commercial, where does that come in?

R… Right after the opening teaser, Mr. Shannon.

Are they lighting the soup?

That comes in the first commercial, Mr. Shannon.

I know when it comes in.

I want to make sure they light the label!

When the soup is Shannon's

I want 40 million people should know it's Shannon's.

Well, what is it?

What's he dressed up for?

U… Uh, that?

Th… That's my typist.

One of your staff, Moomer, is he?

Well, actually, he's a relative.

Cousin on my mother's side.

He's a little eccentric.

Eccentric?

Well, he has, like, you know, delusions.

One week they come, one week they go.

What about this week?

Um, well, this week, he, uh…

He thinks he's William Shakespeare.

Come on over, Will,

I want you to meet the boys.

Been telling them all about you.

Most impressive.

Would that we had

this kind of space at the Globe.

The Globe?

Uh, uh, why don't you

sit down, Will, here?

Have this seat here.

We're, uh, just going over

the second act.

Act two.

Ah, yes, the balcony scene.

A most delightful love sequence.

Love sequence, and on a balcony, yet.

I was gonna mention this to you, Will,

but Mr. Shannon asked us to make a little change

in the love story part.

Oh?

You know, the business on the balcony?

A thing of beauty.

"Oh, spirit of love

how quick and fresh art thou."

A red-blooded American boy and girl

going gigging around on balconies!

Who owns balconies these days?

Extremely valid point, Mr. Shannon.

No question about it.

You mean, no balcony?

Mm, uh, no balcony.

You see, Will, this here is television,

and you gotta grab the audience

right where they live, and you gotta do it quick.

That's why we're making this little alteration

on the balcony thing.

Instead of the boy climbing up the shrubbery

to kiss the girl, he, uh… uh, uh…

Meets her in a subway station.

A subway station?!

That's a bit. That's a bit.

See, she sprains her ankle, and this boy here,

he's kind of a Dr. Kildare, Dr. Casey type,

and he operates on her ankle right there

between the Brighton express and the Bronx local.

You, uh, you see, Will,

doctor stories are very big this season.

All right, cast, we'll take a short break now.

DIRECTOR: I want you to run over that last scene for lines.

Mr. Moomer, Mr. Moomer,

something has to be done.

Troubles, Will?

Troubles? Is that Esmeralda?

Yeah. Yeah, that's the chick.

Well, if what you told me is the case,

what reason for her suicide?

What is to motivate her long soliloquy

about love's labor lost?

Suicide?

What's with this suicide?

Oh, no suicide, Mr. Shannon.

That's definitely out.

I was gonna mention that to you, Will.

You see, we can't live with the suicide.

She don't stick herself with a shiv.

Instead she runs away with this bass fiddler

from Artie Shaw's Gramercy Five.

That was my wife's suggestion.

An inspired one, at that.

And the brother and father who burst into the scene?

My wife didn't like that.

She didn't like the idea of

the father and the brother, Will,

so the way we play it now

the two guys coming into the room are policemen.

Policemen?

Cops, cops.

And in the scene later on,

where the mother does all the talking

about the blood on our hands,

well, she's not the mother no more, exactly.

She's the gardener's wife

who did time for embezzlement.

But she has the most definitive line of the play.

In the epilogue I took it from Twelfth Night:

"If music be the food of love, play on.

"Give me excess of it, that surfeiting"

the appetite may sicken and so die."

Oh, fine, fine, fine.

Appetite sickening.

This is just fine.

The Shannon Food Company

is paying this kind of money

to make people sick?

Uh, Will, you'd better get with it.

You're taking the butter right off the toast, baby.

All right, here we go.

Let's hear the narration aloud please, for timing.

On October 30, the gardener's wife

returned to the crime scene.

The police had already arrived,

and, once again, the FBI…

Enough of that idiocy…

There's no soliloquy here!

What's going on here?

Who is that guy?

I'll tell you what he ain't.

He ain't no student of drama.

He runs around all the time knocking Tennessee.

Now, just as a point of interest… gleep,

what do you got against Stanislavsky?

What have I got against

this personage Stanislavsky?

You.

"Blow, blow, thou winter wind

thou are not so unkind as man's ingratitude."

That's from As You Like It, act two, scene seven.

Hey, Will. Will, Will.

Hey, wait a minute, Will, wait a minute.

What are you doing?

You'll louse up the whole deal!

What am I going to tell them?

Tell them simply

that "Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb

"like the sun."

It shines everywhere."

Act three, scene one, Twelfth Night.

And you, Julius Moomer, foolish mortal

who could have covered himself with a cloak of immortality.

To you, Julius Moomer who has succumbed

to the rankest compound of villainous smell

that ever offended nostril…

To you, Julius Moomer…

[IMITATES AMERICAN ACCENT] Lots of luck.

Hey, Julius, for a whole week now,

you look like somebody told you

to go out and scrub a lizard.

He finked out.

The guy finked out.

You want a couple words of advice?

Knock off the conjuring.

Get yourself a nice clean safe job on a streetcar.

"Whether 'tis nobler in the mind

"to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,"

or to take arms against a sea of troubles."

Yeah?

Did that guy have talent or didn't he?

Man! I was on my way.

They already talked about my next assignment.

A two and a half hour spectacular on American history.

What do you know about American history?

I know this much:

A writer named Julius Moomer died of malnutrition in 1963.

Za-za-zoom.

Ala-kazam.

Va-va-voom.

Ma, hey, Ma!

He's doing it again!

Who knows what it means?

But he's honorable, if nothing else.

This you've got to give him.

The what?

The American history thing?

Well, frankly, Mr. Bramhoff,

I haven't been able to reach him.

The fact is that I haven't…

Mr. Hugo, he's outside.

Who is?

Julius.

He's got some people with him.

Mr. Bramhoff? He's here.

He's come back to us.

The boy is coming back into our fold.

I told you you could count on Moomer, I just knew it.

Yes, I'll get back, I'll get back to you, in a minute.

Mr. Hugo!

Julius, my boy, where have you been?

The whole week you wouldn't answer the phone.

The networks are screaming for you.

The agencies are screaming for you.

The clients are screaming for you.

They want that American history thing.

I got it.

An absolutely fantastic notion.

I'm right in the middle of it now.

Me and my staff have been working on it.

Not that kook in the knee britches?

Ah, he cut out. Forget about him.

Now this show's about American history, right?

And you want it documented-like, right?

And you want it real authentic.

Authentic above all, yes.

I'd like you to meet my staff.

Send those gentlemen in, would you.

General Robert E. Lee.

General Ulysses S. Grant.

George Washington.

Abraham Lincoln.

Pocahontas.

Daniel Boone.

Theodore Roosevelt.

Benjamin Franklin.

NARRATOR: Mr. Julius Moomer.

A streetcar conductor with delusions of authorship.

And if the tale just told seems a little tall,

remember a thing called poetic license

and another thing called the Twilight Zone.