"Introducing Mr. Jared Garrity, a gentleman of commerce, who in the latter half of the nineteenth century plied his trade in the wild and wooly hinterlands of the American West. And Mr. Garrity, if one can believe him, is a resurrecter of the dead - which, on the face of it, certainly sounds like the bull is off the nickel. But to the scoffers amongst you, and you ladies and gentlemen from Missouri, don't laugh this one off entirely, at least until you've seen a sample of Mr. Garrity's wares, and an example of his services. The place is Happiness, Arizona, the time about 1890. And you an I have just entered a saloon where the bar whiskey is brewed, bottled and delivered from the Twilight Zone."
Mr. Garrity promises the townspeople that at midnight, all the inhabitants of the town cemetery will get up and return to life. As the time grows nearer, people start to have second thoughts and convince Mr. Garrity, for a price, to cancel his services. As he leaves town he fails to notice the cemetery and all its inhabitants rising and returning to town."Exit Mr. Garrity, a would-be charlatan, a make-believe con man and a sad mijudger of his own talents. Respectfully submitted from an empty cemetery on a dark hillside that is one of the slopes leading to the Twilight Zone."