 Tired of the everyday routine? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Want to get away from it all? We offer you Escape! Escape! Designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight, we escape into the mind of a man who has been sentenced to die. A man who attempts to refuse the bitter fate society is imposed upon him, as James Poe tells it in his seething tale of violent death. Present tense, starring Vincent Price. Through the dim pain, the cold dark land wheels away, and the hills beyond below the stars are black and sharp. Dead hills, dark sky. Cold steel below my feet, cold as the face of the officer at my side, cold as the cuffs which link my arm to his, which join us on this journey to the prison where I die. Want a cigarette? No. Come on, take one. No, I don't use them. Oh. Has this happened to you before? What? Being handcuffed to a murderer. Has it happened to you before? Sure. Plenty of times. To an axe murderer? Yeah, there's nothing special, brother. Lots of guys ax their wives, lots of them. I could have escaped after it happened, but I didn't, and now it's too late. Late. Late ever too late. Never too late. Too late. Too late. Escape. Escape. If the train were to be wrecked, if the detective were to be killed. Late. Late. The sweet escape. The light escape. The crash escape. The darkness. Where am I? The cars must have gone down the gully. No lights and those people in pain. This thing fastened to my wrist, went halfway through the glass of the door. Keep back. Keep back from his blood. I don't seem to be hurt. No broken bones. Escape. Now the key in his pocket, his bloody pocket, and the cuffs are off. His gun and the wallet. His face. His face is gone. His own mother wouldn't know him. I'm free. Fire. You lawyer. I must get away. Here. My ring under his finger. There. That completes it. Yes. A Beverly Glen above sunset. I'll show you where. Gotcha. Read about the big train wreck. Yes. Understand almost a hundred were killed. Here you are. Keep the chain. It looks so small, so shabby. No one took care of it during the trial. No one cared. No one. No one cares now. But that's good. I like that. I'll be alone and I won't let the neighbors see me and I'll sleep and figure out where I go next. The light. Someone's in there. She's dead. I know she's dead. Framed it so good that even he thought he killed you. What was that? You're funny, you know that? You're real funny. Open the kitchen door so quietly. And walk softly. Here on the wall by the stone. The cleaver. I see them now. It is she. How did they do it? How did they trick me into imagining the murder? I am innocent. Soft, weak, white neck fat on his arms, pig. Walk like a feather. He shall be versed. Soft, white neck. I... Honest, I hear something. What's the matter, sweet maids? What's the matter? I was innocent and I thought myself guilty and now I am truly guilty and never in my life have I felt so innocent. Dream like a nightmare. The confession, the conviction, the sentence and now once more dark night cold steel the sound of wheels just as I lived it before while even the cold face of the silent officer hit my side, hard cold face so much like that other face. Want a cigarette? No. Go on, take one. Oh. Has this happened to you before? What? Being handcuffed to a murderer. Has it happened to you before? Sure, plenty of time. To an axe murderer? Yeah, you're nothing special, brother. Lots of guys axe their wives, lots of them. But were you ever cuffed to an axe murderer who killed two people, two people at once? What are you talking about? My sin, my crime, what I did, I killed them both. Blame me, brother. You only killed your wife. Just her, just one, that's all. It has been raining for some days now and beyond the barred window, the leaden sky bleeds sorrow on the barren land the lonely land, the land beyond the prison wall the sky was blue when first I came here blue, so blue and now it has become as the walls of my cell of all our cells, dark, cheerless cells these lifeless cells, these cells of men who wait to die, that wet sky, gray sky, cheerless sky but it is beautiful I have twelve hours left of life, twelve hours left to live beautiful sky, beautiful, beautiful, wet and fresh and alive oh, rather would I spend eternity at a world's bottom but with one patch of that to gaze upon then leave this life then leave this earth then leave this sky but leave it I must the God told me no man has ever escaped San Quentin's death row locks and bars, guards and guns lie between me and the world beyond no escape, not from here but wouldn't it be nobler to gamble my life in bold attempt and lay it down in reckless resignation, eh? so, now to get out of this super-guarded area what's wrong, what's the matter with you? my gut, here, it's killing me gut, huh? I'll call a medic as I press, you tell me where it hurts everywhere, oh, all over down here don't touch that place again call the ambulance all right, this man's got appendicitis do something what do I do? why didn't they send somebody with you? the interns are all tied up, they're giving shots today oh, he's acting kind of crazy let's get him over to the hospital block, now hurry I can't drive any faster, my windshield's steamed up so, wipe it you got a rag? yeah, here, you could use my hand okay, pal, give him the hand oh, my God keep right on driving through the gate or the top of your head comes off you won't get away with this I will, I'm betting my life that I will how far back is the prison? about 15 miles, at least that okay, pull over I'm taking her from here and you two, I want your money, your clothes then you can walk back and explain about me explain about him it's not at the bottom of that canyon now I I cross the border on foot and into Mexico good drink, senor oh, thank you see, when does the next bus leave for Mexico City? at 12 o'clock, senor a little card bought in a back room with no questions asked and I become a tourist four days' growth of beard and I become poor an empty suitcase with a butterfly net strapped to its outside and I become a source of amusement a funny dumb gringo and who looks with suspicion on the funny dumb gringo tourist who is poor? because city is beautiful but not when you are hungry not when you are an American who is hungry Americans aren't supposed to be hungry what can I do? all I know is writing, the writing of poetry there is one place I might sell some poems Palin, his magazine prints some English stuff perhaps, why not? I have three pesos left buy some paper, a pencil, sit in the park right and storm the bastions there's a school here do you like them, Mr. Palin? well, excuse me Lucida I have some poems here the raredouble dreaming-droppled faster passion of my soul ah, muy bueno yeah, yeah, that is just what I saw you are too kind the poet should read his own words that drips, sweet droplets passions, goblets fates thy role Lucida likes your stuff and I like what Lucida likes she says we do a book of your stuff oh, too much when the book, right I'll get them, Smith so true, please do good day and I'll be back with the poem America miles below the bleak brown mountains the desert yellow and red my home, my native land my advance money went for a new clothing and a round-trip plane ticket to Los Angeles and my new lease on life in a small file under the eaves of the little house in Beverly Glen there are poems, more than a thousand of them poems which no one has ever seen poems written in the evenings after work and Sundays now with the beard and the hat and the glasses no one will recognize me a cane, I ought to carry a cane too get the poem does someone live there in the house? does someone bought it? no matter, get the poems and then get back to Mexico City someone is living here, I wonder who the hedge is trimmed and my hammock someone's put on a new canvas cover the face it's merry but I thought I killed her who is it, baby? well, what is it, mister? what do you want here? are you the lady of the house? ah, who shot at the door? some creep with the beard yeah, I'm the lady of the house but I don't want to buy anything well, what is it, Santa Claus? what do you want? are you the man of the house? yeah, I'm the man of the house and sweet means I'll say so what of it? I'm making a survey I'd like to ask a few questions may I come in? well, I don't know ah, let him what's the difference? thank you first your name name? yes, please Fred Snead hey, where is he going? mister, what do you want in my kitchen? the cleaver, merry don't you know me? put it down know me, know the man you tricked into San Quentin? no, don't put down that him yes, merry yes no confession, conviction, sentence, transportation and oh, again again the death cell as before but when I came here, they promised I could keep the beard they promised I could keep the beard and it's gone gone I can't remember when it's time to go, my son time to go you've refused my help up to now but perhaps you'd like to walk with me rather beside you, Padre than beside one of these mercenaries my legs the muscles quiver, not with fear no, but with the desire to feel themselves moving, straining, acting while yet there is time I'm not afraid, but this body I hate the thought of it's being killed by these men my beautiful body, soon it will be dead cold rotting dead, it will rot no, they must not do this to me you must be brave, my son years I spent with the great corporeal master, the Yogi learning my bodily purpose, my bodily care the use of willpower to control my body the Yogi my teacher, yes I shall use yoga to spend my breathing and become invulnerable to their gas to spend my body functions to the point of death and fool their doctor, of course oh yes, the greatest escape of them all and this time I must succeed oh miss, so small somehow I had imagined it would be larger and here is the chair yes, draps hood and over there the glass small pane with the dark faces seen dimly through the witnesses lay your arms along these the whole room is like some strange sort of time machine machine for launching a man into another dimension so true I must begin to prepare myself relax must relax it won't be easy have you any last words my son yes, one request do not allow my poor body to be dissected or embalmed but on the third day after my death cremate it that will be arranged as you desire thank you God be with you my son remember what Christ said to the two criminals in this day shall thou be with me in heaven now move your head forward a little I like to put the hood down now now when you hear the pellets drop into the air so don't try any tricks just breathe deeply see fumes don't hurt see just cooperate with us make it easy on yourself pal you know what I mean as the yogi taught me body, limp, all muscles, tendons, joints relax, all slow the bloodstream rock the breath hold suspend all bodily functions hold fix the eye in suspended animation fix the mind on time ease the beating of my heart time as a picture on the screen of my mind slower slower my perception is slower the time seems to spin by now go slow my disc go on clearing the air of the poisonous fumes now the doctor will come with his stethoscope I will my limbs to stiffness my flesh to coldness all right it's clear doctor you can go on in let's see now respiration ceased heart stopped by the authority vested in me by the state of California I pronounce this man dead will myself to consciousness in six hours time it's dark here and cold so cold I I must get up and see oh the prison morgue it worked but I'm cold so cold what's this on my toe tag too dark to read it but I know what it says it has my name prison number time of execution yes now to look around because the next step must be played just right this should be it a coffin crate ready for shipping some cadaver being returned to a sentimental family well thought to be just right with him on my slab my tag on his toe and the most perfect escape of all time underway here we go I will my body to return from its state of suspended animation and to come immediately out of trance when next this coffin shall be opened poor Trello must have a bad heart let's see now it's going well let's hope he's out for a while this must be the workroom light hanging over the work table and there are locker with a suit fine and here in the desk might not be some sort of yes here a petty cash box and it's quite full and the old boy apparently doesn't believe in banks and now and now that Lazarus has returned from the dead this newspaper I was executed four days ago now I find myself resurrected in Indianapolis Indiana Los Angeles California this is Los Angeles you can claim your baggage in the station or on the platform I returned to my home beautiful time to return home my old hammock is there and my flowers my yard the house is empty the lawyer said he had it cleaned up books my pictures here's my old pipe I haven't smoked it in years and Mary didn't like it but now she's gone I don't hate her anymore tobacco still fairly fresh fill the pipe there's that detective story I never got to finish now I'll have time now I'll have lots of time time to smoke and read and write and rest wonderful time to get outside oh sweet air wonder what kind of birds those are my hammock and relax wish I could remember what page I was on no matter I can begin again I've got all the time in the world the rest of my life birds the sun is slipping out of sight death of the sun I read the sky how soft those clouds so lovely birds playing in the fish pond look at them happy birds that is him the neighbor is turning on his lawn sprinkling system lie here and smell lie in the gathering twilight death of the day birth of the night the roughness of the summer night coming soon to start oh it's lovely, heavenly just by the authority vested in me by the state of California I pronounce this man dead escape is produced and directed by William N. Robson tonight we have presented present tense by James Poe starring Vincent Price as Roger featured in the cast where Charles McGraw is Fred Snead Joan Banks as Mary Harry Bartel as the Doctor and Ben Wright as Pollen also heard were Tom Telly, William Lallet, Jeff Corey and Paul Fries special music was arranged and conducted by Del Castillo next week you are alone at the controls of an experimental rocket aircraft about to be hurled 40 miles out from the earth's surface to the limitless boundaries of space into a nothingness from which there may be no escape next week we escape with Graham Doher's imaginative and widely discussed story of a rocket pilot who receives the strangest and most terrible warning in the history of man the outer limit goodbye then until this same time next week when once again we offer you escape when Bob Hope visits Bing Crosby on Bing's CBS show tomorrow night they'll be singing a duet called Have I Told You Lately that's a good theme for Bing and Bob for you know and I know that when the two lads get together the gags about each other's shortcomings fly thick and fast tomorrow night with National Sauerkraut Week as the spring board Bing and Bob promise one of their most hilarious meetings so don't miss the CBS Bing Crosby show which is heard on most of these same stations now stay tuned for Pursuit which follows immediately on most of these same CBS stations this is CBS where Wednesday night is Bing Crosby night the Columbia Broadcasting System