Stories from the Twilight Zone
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Rod Serling became a cultural icon of the 20th Century with his creation 'The Twilight Zone,' which more than 50 years later was nominated by the Writers Guild of America as the third best written television series of the past seventy years. Of the 156 Twilight Zone episodes, Serling wrote 92. In the early 1960s, Rod Serling, novelized nineteen (19) of his scripts and published them in three volumes - this is the first. In this volume, you will read about a baseball pitcher with magical powers; a self-centered hypochondriac; a nostalgic journey back to childhood; a self-righteous domineering husband getting his comeuppance; the panic of a man with no memory finding himself alone in an empty town; and the destructive combination of fear and mob mentality.
nightstand next to him was a tray full of bottles. There were pills, lotions, antibiotics, nasal sprays, throat sprays, ear drops, nose drops, three boxes of Kleenex and a book titled, How To Be Happy Though Bedridden. He stared dourly up at the ceiling then cocked an irritated eye toward the bedroom door, beyond which he could hear his wife’s footsteps walking from kitchen to living room. Ethel his wife was healthy. Oh God, she was healthy! Like a horse was Ethel. Never even had a cold. But he,
odd hour?” Cooper sat down on the other chair and studied his client. “Mr. Bedeker,” he said grimly, “you may not realize this, but at the rate things are going this case will go to the jury by tomorrow.” Bedeker nodded and continued to spoon down ice cream. “How do you feel, Cooper?” he asked. Cooper squirmed with frustration and put his briefcase on the floor. “How am I? I’m miserable, Mr. Bedeker. I’ve been miserable since I took your case. I’ve had tough clients before, but nobody like
joke. Very funny. I love your town. I love the sense of humor. But now it’s not funny any more. Understand? Now it stinks. Who’s the wise guy who locked me in here?” Now he kicked, shoved, pushed at the door until the sweat rolled down his face. He closed his eyes and leaned against the glass for a moment and then suddenly looked down to see the door hinge arched toward him. He gently pulled and the door swung open, bent and out of alignment, but open. He’d been pushing on it instead of pulling.
is—” He cocked his head to one side, suddenly remembering something and he grinned at the image. “I just remembered something. Scrooge said it. You remember Scrooge, old buddy—Ebenezer Scrooge? It’s what he said to the ghost, Jacob Marley. He said, ‘You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard. A crumb of cheese. A fragment of an undone potato. But there’s more of gravy about you than grave.’” He put the spoon down now and pushed the ice cream away. “You see? That’s what you are.
He pitches like nothing human!” Mouth McGarry and Dr. Stillman looked at one another. Dr. Stillman’s quiet blue eyes looked knowing and Mouth McGarry chewed furiously down the length of a piece of grass, his last bite taking in a quarter inch of his forefinger. He blew on it, waved it in the air and stuck it in his mouth as he turned toward Stillman, his voice shaking with excitement. “Look, Grampa,” Mouth said, “I want that boy! Understand? I’ll have a contract drawn up inside of fifteen