In this segment, which Theodore J. Flicker adapted from the Harry Turner short story, and also directed, stoner hippie Randy Miller (John Astin) crashes his car, resulting in his death, and while on the way to Hell, encounters 3 angry demons (played respectively by Flicker, Gene Kearney, and producer Jack Laird) who accuse Miller of committing a wide variety of sins. When Miller arrives in Hell, he discovers that it has a waiting room...and rules of conduct...and a fat lady (Jody Gilbert) who yells at people if those rules are broken. Miller isn't greatly concerned, though. He envisions the real Hell to come, complete with tormented souls, capering demons, and the Prince of Darkness all awaiting him to appear. A fire door opens and he passes expectantly into the waiting hell mouth of... A sitting room, which is furnished with dull furniture and drab wallpaper. Miller is pleased to see a jukebox in one corner of the room, with a stack of records on the changer, but when he selects the first record, instead of rock and roll he gets a decidedly boring big band tune, and is unable to get the record to stop playing. A simple, boring farmer (Hank Worden) appears in a rocking chair, and Miller asks this guy what his thoughts are concerning the disbanding of the Beatles, only to hear from the Bore that you get rid of beetles using boric acid, in addition to telling Miller about such uninteresting subjects as baby's croup, crop rotation, and the Farmer's Almanac, to name a few. Hell is turning out to be a real bummer. At this point, a vacationing couple (John J. Fox and Ceil Cabot) appear, along with their slide projector and 8,500 slides of their Tijuana trip. As Mr. and Mrs. Tourist launch into their dissertation on the joys of touring Mexico, Miller's patience is exhausted, and he demands that the Devil show his face. Satan (played by Flicker) appears, calm, unimposing, and quite short. Sure, he's got the horns, the beard, and the pitchfork, but he isn't quite as awe-inspiring as Miller had envisioned him to be. Miller asks him about the whips, the chains, the snakes, and the boiling oil, all the things that Miller thinks Hell should have. Satan tells Miller, "This is it. My dear boy, Hell is never what you quite expect it to be. For you, this is it. Don't you like it?" Miller tells him, "No, it's a real downer." Satan responds, "Yes it is, isn't it? You know, they have a room up in Heaven just like this one, and while this room is Hell for you, absolute, beastly Hell, up there the same room is someone else's idea of Heaven. Think about it. Bye." And with a wave, the Devil is gone. Hell's latest initiate, Randy Miller, clamps his hands over his ears in an effort to shut out the yammering voices of the Bore, Mr. and Mrs. Tourist, and that gratingly boring big band music, and he moans repeatedly, "Bummer, bummer, bummer," as he does so. I found this to be a rather enjoyable absurd view of Hell thanks to Theodore Flicker's direction, his script, and the performances of the cast. Spoiler alert: Theodore Flicker was to have directed more segments of Night Gallery after this, but refused to because of the temper of the cinematographer assigned to him, Lionel Lindon.
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