Narrator: You're looking at a tableau of reality, things of substance, of physical material: a desk, a window, a light. These things exist and have dimension. Now this is Arthur Curtis, age thirty-six, who also is real. He has flesh and blood, muscle and mind. But in just a moment we will see how thin a line separates that which we assume to be real with that manufactured inside of a mind.
Sam: No, he isn't drunk, Mr. Brinkley. I-I tell you, he's cracked! His mind is gone! He swears he's Arthur Curtis, swears it... That's right, Arthur Curtis... the character he's playing in the picture!
Narrator: The modus operandi for the departure from life is usually a pine box of such and such dimensions, and this is the ultimate in reality. But there are other ways for a man to exit from life. Take the case of Arthur Curtis, age thirty-six. His departure was along a highway with an exit sign that reads "This way to escape." Arthur Curtis, en route to the Twilight Zone.