Truman Bradley reminds us that animals are smarter we think. He shows us a chimp named Terry operating a kind of typewriter. The li’l fella plunks keys that bring up cards stating [TERRY] [LIKE] [BANANAS]. Fortuitously, the machine does not include cards for [RIP OFF] or [FACE]. We also see a smart snake and brainy bugs.
Then he brings out a dog that “has been exposed to large doses of radiation in an experiment to see how much radiation a living body can safely carry.” Awwww. Don’t worry, they have “shielded the animal’s spleen”. He is “given constant care, daily baths, regular blood transfusions, attendance by a staff of veterinarians, feeding from a special kitchen, and certain new drugs.” Thus, Truman tells us, dogs like this “can live a normal life.” Yeah, normal except for the spleen shielding, constant care, daily baths, regular blood transfusions, attendance by a staff of veterinarians, feeding from a special kitchen, and certain new drugs.
At the atomic research facility, security chief Davis thinks Dr. Maxwell Carnaven might be stealing secrets. Director Scott wisely points out that he would be stealing secrets that only he knows. On the other hand, Carnaven was probably a Nazi 10 years ago, so who knows. Davis also complains that Carnaven and his secretary go in through “the back gate” but I don’t feel that is any of our business. The director says allowances must be made for a genius like Carnaven.
Still, Davis is concerned that Carnaven has been irritable lately and has access to the nuclear button and the Kuerig machine. He brings in psychiatrist Dr. Frake. Scott asks if Davis has a point about Carnaven’s irritability. Frake wisely says, “Diagnosis by hearsay is impossible.” He and Scott might be the smartest guys ever on SFT. Frake does say that tension and overwork can lead to a breakdown.
Frake is introduced to Carnaven, but seconds later, there is a crisis at the nuclear facility — one of the radioactive dogs has escaped. Davis’s team jumps into action, bringing on another shift, and arming the men with scintillometers, although I think geiger counters would have made more sense. This plan aggravates Carnaven so much that he declares this to be the dark ages and storms out.
Now that Dr. Frake has had a full 20 seconds to observe Carnaven, he feels qualified to make a diagnosis. He says Carnaven is overwhelmed by guilt and seems to be hiding something. While the search is on for the dog, another scientist alerts Davis that four pounds of fissionable material is missing.
The dog is found, coincidentally, near Carnaven’s house. The whole area is showing signs of radioactivity. Dull story short, Carnaven has been atoning for his atomic research by building a “benevolent bomb”. Combining radioactivity with choroplasm, and exploding it over the desert should turn the sand fertile.
Sadly, Carnaven has been exposed to lethal doses of radiation. He surrenders peacefully to the authorities, shrewdly putting Uncle Sam on the hook for his long, painful, and expensive death from radiation poisoning.
Other Stuff:
- C’mon, according to SFT: A History of the Television Program, a big star like Whit Bissell was only paid $200 for this episode? But then, this was before his groundbreaking work in I Was a Teenage Werewolf.
Director Alfred Hitchcock gets things off to a frightful start as we get a close-up on the face of some uncredited sap in the dentist chair. There are instruments and swabs stuffed in her mouth, and the whir of the old-fashioned drill is spine-tingling. The real revulsion, however, comes in realizing this isn’t a real dentist. This is just a jerk actor cramming his mitts into some poor struggling actress’ mouth. My God, those fingers could have been anywhere!
Hmmm . . . this is starting to make sense now. Mrs. Bixby is played by Audrey Meadows from The Honeymooners. Clearly this episode is an hallucination of Alice Kramden. Alice is in the dentist’s chair, knocked out by Nitrous Oxide or perhaps her dentist had leftover salmon for lunch. She dreams of being married to her dentist, rather than a fat, surly bus driver. She is so immersed in this fantasy that “Alice” no longer exists. She has no first name credited, she is just Mrs. Bixby. Yet, there are still inescapable traces of her dull life and abusive husband as the dentist has money problems and ignores her for bowling.
As she waking up from the dentist’s sedation, her fantasy world begins to unravel. The Colonel ends their relationship. She discovers Dr. Bixby is drilling his hygienist, and not in the mouth. Well, not only in the mouth. Alice returns to the cold reality of a Bensonhurst dental office warmed only by the puzzling realization that her fantasy-lover’s name of Bixby was so close to that of her best friend Trixie.
Inexplicably, he decides to go to the property that night. Or maybe he ate room service and watched an Ancient Aliens marathon all day like no one I know, and went the next night. Anyhoo, it is the same or second consecutive dark and stormy night. As he drives, he flashes back to the last time he saw his father. Dangerously, the flashback is shown in a heads-up display on the windshield where visibility is already limited by rain and wipers.
All this is projected on the windshield through the wipers and rain. To be fair, it is a very nice composition, but it goes on for almost 4 freakin’ minutes.
Ray pours 
Mary and Joseph, er . . . Marie and Justin have not been able to make a baby, so they go to the shady Tilford Institute for help (shady = TV-speak for anything having a Christian affiliation).
It is stated that this is not Tilford’s first attempt at cloning Jesus, but nothing is made of that. There is an intriguing mention that this is not the Son of God but just a kid with a freak telekinetic mutation; that also goes nowhere. Luckily, this is the kind of cornball, on-the-nose entertainment that I like.