A couple of antique store hustlers spot George Hanley at the door immediately after mentioning an “unsuspecting sucker.” They manage to high-pressure the rube Hanley into buying a brass lamp for $20 which is worth millions if properly used.
Of course Hanley, like every other character in a story like this, does not use the lamp to its fullest potential. He plans to give the lamp to Ann, a floozy in his office, for her birthday.
Oxymoronic alpha-bookkeeper Roger beats Hanley to the punch by giving Ann his present first. It is an entirely inappropriate gift of lingerie which one of the beta-bookkeepers suggests she try on in the office. This being the 60’s, it is all in good fun and not the basis for a lawsuit. Ann rewards Roger with a big ol’ kiss on the lips. Hanley is embarrassed at his gift, so takes it home.
He is greeted at home by his motley (or muttley) dog Attila. He opens up the brass lamp he bought for Ann. As he begins rubbing it white stuff suddenly shoots out of the tip causing a Genie to appear. This is a different kind of Genie. He is wearing contemporary clothing (although, that of a contemporary used car salesman) except for the velveteen Tinkerbell shoes. Also, sadly, he is not a hot blonde. The Genie also reduced the number of wishes from three to one as the 3-hour Twilight Zone has mercifully not been suggested yet.
The Genie offers Hanley his wish, but warns him against wishing for love, riches or a 10-inch pianist. He advises Hanley to sleep on it and let him know his decision the next day.
Hanley considers being the first man on the moon, a scientist, a general, or . . . what if Ann was a movie actress [1] and they were married! He fantasizes about them being America’s sweethearts. Unfortunately, Ann is so busy with her career, that she has put off their honeymoon for 6 months. I think we are supposed to believe this includes any sort of romance beyond a kiss on the forehead. Strangely, in this scenario, Attila has become a frou-frou little poodle.
Hanley sits at a piano and mopes. He spots a girl hiding beneath the piano who claims she is too young too drink. “In the years, I am a child. But I think I am mature.” This potentially interesting — and felonious — interlude is cut short when the girl discovers that Hanley is not a producer, just a stage-husband. Hanley discovers Ann is having an affair with her leading man Unable to get the girl even in a fantasy, he is yanked back to reality.
Further ignoring the Genie, his next fantasy is to be a rich bastard. I don’t know what kind of dog Attila has morphed into in this scenario, but the son-of-a-bitch is about 5 feet tall on his hind legs. He slips a newspaper urchin $100 for a paper and later donates $1.2 Million to a college. He is criticized by the ingrate college president for being ostentatious in his generosity. He finds having money is no fun once he can easily buy everything he wants. This insane fantasy also crumbles before the urchin has a chance to berate him for his $99.95 tip.[2]
He snaps back to reality to find that Roger has gotten a promotion that Hanley had hoped for. He decides that maybe power is what would really make him happy. He imagines himself as the president, being feted with a ticker-tape parade. This time Attila is a Scottish Terrier which seems a little un-American. Hanley gets to make all sorts of humanitarian gestures — meeting with scouts, giving electricity to the masses, pardoning a young soldier from the firing squad. It’s all fun and games until the earth is attacked by aliens and Hanley is faced with the destruction of humanity.
Back in reality, Hanley finally comes to a decision about what to wish for. We next see the brass lamp being retrieved from the garbage by a hobo-American. When he rubs it, out comes the Genie formally known as George Hanley. He has not only increased the Genie unemployment figures by one, he has diluted the wish-value by going back to three, and has embraced the Genie stereotype by dressing like Sinbad and wearing a turban.
The estimable Twilight Zone Companion takes a rare misstep on this episode. It suggests the episode is a failure partly because the Genie had already warned George that his dreams of riches and love would end badly. I think that is predicted, or at least 100% anticipated, every time we see a tale such as this, from The Monkey’s Paw to No Time Like the Past. Knowing things will end badly is not a weakness. Exhibit A:
Taylor: A planet where apes evolved from men? There’s got to be an answer.
Dr. Zaius: Don’t look for it, Taylor. You might not like what you find.
Then, POW, the best ending in movie history . . . you know, if it had not been spoiled a thousand times before anyone ever sees the movie as a kid by pop culture, The Simpsons, or the bloody movie poster and DVD case.
Post-Post:
- [1] Ouch, kind of a shot at mere TV actress Patricia Berry portraying Ann.
- [2] The real horror is that Hanley was in a 90% tax bracket at the time.
- I enjoyed the way people from Hanley’s life portray different characters in his various fantasies.
- Writer John Furia has 2 movie credits. Oddly, both are stories about nuns — Change of Habit and The Singing Nun.
- One month later, Howard Morris would make his first appearance as Ernest T. Bass.

Little things matter. Usually little things matter correspondingly little; but you never know. Thus, it was not taken as a good omen that the packaging for the series was among the worst in history, or at least since the
The Inside: Opening the case creates two disappointments. The first is immediate as a little black rubber ring falls out onto your lap and rolls under the desk behind the power-strip where it is difficult to reach and you realize how long it has been since you vacuumed (your yardage may vary). This is used to protect the the facing DVDs from scratching each other — that would be the double-sided flipper DVDs with no listing of the Titles on them.
The very first shot is simple but feels perfect — a nicely composed muddy road with the remains of a snowstorm still piled on the sides. An SUV roars by carrying the brain-trust of Point, Lemon, Diego and Navarro. Lemon is taking care of the injured Navarro in the back seat. Telling Diego to stop smoking like a chimney might have helped. We are left to put the pieces together, but it is pretty clear that they had a Reservoir Dog Day Afternoon — just with a lot more flannel.
After a few interesting shots of Lemon dragging the canoe across the snow, they arrive at an old fort. Again, the show exceeds expectations — this is not only a great, substantial wooden fort, it has an unsettling array of animal horns and antlers plastered across its face. As with every show I’ve watched for this blog, the men have no hesitation in opening the door and walking right in.
Virginia, quite the little Rambo, then manages to whack Lemon in the head and string him up by his feet. Point finds a room full of license plates hanging by strings. The girls have been luring men, and not in the good way. What appeared to be pieces that had fallen off the truck were actually junk left in the road by the girls to force stranded travelers to their fort. As long as they feed the creature, it will stay within the fort and not go out into the world. That is the titular sacrifice the girls have made.
Post-Post:
The Arrow B76 took off 2 days ago. Radar tracked it for 76,200 miles then it disappeared.
Out of the blue, Burns zings the officer by saying his father would have known how much it cost. They get word that the rocket has came down nearby at the ol’ Baker Ranch. We don’t get to see the spacecraft, but it returned containing a block of ice large enough to contain a
Dozier secretly sends the AR-76 up again, taking the ice back to outer space. To be sure it is destroyed in space, Dozier went up with the rocket. Burns regrets that two Doziers have given their lives for their country.
Rollins’ Intro: A monster has moved into 2460 Terrell Street. Family man Jim Osgoode must now battle the beast.
It pains me to say it, but the lawyer is the voice of reason here. He counters that his uncle collected race cars. Probably his unmarried uncle, but still. When the mob is just about ready to do a drive-by shooting from the Welcome Wagon, Jim talks them back down to sanity.
The grown-up mob reconvenes and they agree it is time to send this guy a message. The kiddie mob convenes at a sleepover and the girls dare Janey to go to the man’s unit, er condo, and bring back proof that she was there.