- The Clown: [of the Major] Very active chap. Quite a function. Compulsive worker.
- The Major: [still tapping the wall] You a big-time psychologist, huh?
- The Clown: I'm a clown. Which is neither here, there, nor anyplace. I could be a certified public accountant, a financier, a left-handed pitcher who throws only curves. What difference does it make?
- [singing to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne" while the Major pounds the wall]
- The Clown: We're here, because we're here, because we're here...
- [breaks off as the Major turns to stare at him, then brokenly starts up again as he resumes hammering]
- The Clown: Because - we're - here.
- [opening narration]
- Narrator: Clown, hobo, ballet dancer, bagpiper, and an Army major - a collection of question marks. Five improbable entities stuck together into a pit of darkness. No logic, no reason, no explanation; just a prolonged nightmare in which fear, loneliness, and the unexplainable walk hand in hand through the shadows. In a moment, we'll start collecting clues as to the whys, the whats, and the wheres. We will not end the nightmare, we'll only explain it - because this is the Twilight Zone.
- [closing narration]
- Narrator: Just a barrel, a dark depository where are kept the counterfeit, make-believe pieces of plaster and cloth, wrought in a distorted image of human life. But this added, hopeful note: perhaps they are unloved only for the moment. In the arms of children, there can be nothing but love. A clown, a tramp, a bagpipe player, a ballet dancer, and a major. Tonight's cast of players on the odd stage - known as - The Twilight Zone.
- The Major: Who are we?
- The Ballerina: None of us knows, Major. We don't know who we are, we don't know where we are. Each of us woke up one moment and here we were in the darkness.
- The Major: How can that happen?
- The Ballerina: That's the question we asked ourselves Major, a question with no answer. We're nameless things with no memory, no knowledge of what went before. No understanding of what is now, no knowledge of what will be.
- The Clown: [the Major has fallen out of the cylinder] Brave man. Not a very bright one.
- The Ballerina: He'll come back for us. I know he will.
- The Clown: He may be back, but it won't be to get us. He may have been right at that. He may have been very right. This may be Hell.
- The Major: Somehow I'll get you out of here. But none of us gets out until one of gets out. Now that is a logic you can live with.