Narrator: Portrait of a man at work, the only work he's ever done, the only work he knows. His name is Henry Francis Valentine but he calls himself Rocky, because that's the way his life has been--rocky and perilous and uphill at a dead run all the way. He's tired now, tired of running or wanting, of waiting for the breaks that come to others but never to him. Never to Rocky Valentine. A scared, angry little man. He thinks it's all over now but he's wrong. For Rocky Valentine, it's just the beginning.
Rocky Valentine: I don't like games.
Mr. Pip: Oh, but that isn't true, Mr. Valentine. Why, you like roulette, blackjack, poker, craps. And between the ages of 7 and 10, you were quite fond of mumbletypeg.
Rocky Valentine: Ah, you eat it.
Mr. Pip: Oh, I've no need. I haven't eaten in... well, it must be two or three centuries.
Rocky Valentine: Anything wrong with it?
Mr. Pip: No.
Rocky Valentine: Then eat it.
Mr. Pip: I can't. I've forgotten how.
Rocky Valentine: What's going on here? Where am I?
Mr. Pip: Mr. Valentine, do you remember when we met earlier today? I told you I was in a sense your guide. And you said you needed a guide like a hole in the head.
Rocky Valentine: Yeah.
Mr. Pip: Well, as a matter of strict fact, you had a hole in the head only a short time before. A bullet hole.
Rocky Valentine: Hey, Fats, I want you should get rid of that heap I've been driving.
Mr. Pip: Well, it certainly goes fast enough. Is there something wrong?
Rocky Valentine: Yeah, the ashtrays are full!
Rocky Valentine: Henry Francis Valentine. Ha-ha. Born 1923, Brooklyn, New York. Age of 6, slaughtered small dog. Well, why not, he bit me.
Mr. Pip: But the gambling, I thought you enjoyed that.
Rocky Valentine: I do! But--but--but when you win every time, that's ain't gambling, that's charity!
Rocky Valentine: Come on. Sit down, Fats. Sit down. Now, look, I don't know how to explain this, but it just ain't the same thing. I mean, what's the kick knocking off a bank if everybody knows about it, huh? And--and--and the dames! I never thought I would get bored with beautiful dames. Look, look, I wouldn't expect an angel to understand this, see, but, but, being a big guy with a chick--it don't mean anything if it's all set up in advance. And, I mean, everything is great here, you see, really great. It's just the way I always imagined it except that, that, well, just between you and me, Fats, I don't think I belong here. I don't think I fit in.
Mr. Pip: Oh, nonsense. Of course you do!
Rocky Valentine: No, no, I mean it. I mean it. Somebody must have goofed. If I gotta stay here another day, I'm gonna go nuts! Look, look, I don't belong in Heaven, see. I want to go to the other place.
Mr. Pip: Heaven? Whatever gave you the idea you were in Heaven, Mr. Valentine? This is the other place!
Narrator: A scared, angry little man who never got a break. Now he has everything he's ever wanted--and he's going to have to live with it for eternity... in the Twilight Zone.