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.

Role. Rod Sailing once said about the sport of boxing. What seems to give this idea the stature of tragedy is that the business of prize

fighting never allows for an alternative preparation for another field

of endeavour.

To be a fighter, you have to live as a fighter.

Everything you do, every action you take.

Every moment you live is a part of, and preparation for, the next fight on the schedule.

And when your career is finished, the profession discards you.

In terms of society, it discards a freak, a man able only to live by his fists and his instincts.

And too often a battered Hulk, covered with the unhealing

scars that are the legacy of his trade. And Rod Sailing's relationship with the sport

can be explored further in a series of articles and a book called The Twilight Roundsounds written by a friend of the show Christopher

Benedict. But considering how perfectly that quote fits tonight's episode, this one isn't from

the typewriter of Rod Serling. This one is from the typewriter of Richard Matheson.

When we step into the ring for tonight's bout in the fifth dimension, you will be forgiven

for thinking that we're meeting two men who are trying to dispose of a dead body, as they

wheel a humanoid shape wrapped from head to toe in fabric along the aisle of a city bus out into

the street. But while they do get the occasional odd look, what's going on is of no real

...