Gourmet writer Justus Walters is in his apartment working on his latest manuscript when the phone rings. He picks it up and tells the woman at the other end, Elizabeth Croft, that he doesn't want her to call. Justus hangs up and then listens to footsteps coming down from above. The doorbell rings and he yells at Elizabeth that he doesn't want to be disturbed. He finally goes to the door and she begs him to talk to her. Justus says that she's obsessed with 19th century novels and tells her that he has no interest in continuing a relationship with her. He only took her out to dinner once to be neighborly, but he's had enough and slams the door in her face. Elizabeth says one last thing through the door, that someday she hopes he'll need someone when he's helpless. She walks away, and then screams. Justus looks out and sees her on the steps. She claims to have tripped and needs help, but he immediately realizes that she's faking and closes the door again...Read the full recap
Host: Good evening. We welcome you to this palladium of art treasures that range from the kooky to the uncommon, from the bestial to the bizarre, and I'd like to take you on a guided tour through the Night Gallery. A collection of paintings on display for only the most discriminating, because it's best that they be seen both after and in the dark. The story behind this offering, a word which we've coined for just the occasion - arachnophobia. It means, for our purposes, a special distaste for those crawly little beasties with the multi-legged, hairy bodies. In other words, A Fear of Spiders - the title of our first painting in this, the Night Gallery.
Elizabeth Croft: Are you ill?
Justus Walters: Ill? Elizabeth, just because I seek out your company, is that supposed to be reflective of some illness on my part. You do yourself a vast injustice. It so happens that your charms are not lost on me. I--I happen to like you.
Elizabeth Croft: Oh, Justus. You only halfway like one person in this whole world. He lives inside your own skin, he's you.
Justus Walters: You actually want me to go down there and face a monstrous, hairy, eight-legged thing, a crawling nightmare, a devilish obscenity?
Elizabeth Croft: I think it's a marriage made in heaven.