Narrator: Ramos Clemente, a would-be god in dungarees, strangled by an illusion, that will-o'-the-wisp mirage that dangles from the sky in front of the eyes of all ambitious men, all tyrants - and any resemblance to tyrants living or dead is hardly coincidental, whether it be here or in the Twilight Zone.
Narrator: This is the face of Ramos Clemente, a year ago a beardless, nameless worker of the dirt, who plodded behind a mule furrowing someone else's land. And he looked up at a hot Central American sun, and he pledged the impossible. He made a vow that he would lead an avenging army against the tyranny that put the ache in his back and the anguish in his eyes. And now one year later, the dream of the impossible has become a fact. In just a moment, we will look deep into this mirror and see the aftermath of a rebellion - in The Twilight Zone.