The Twilight Zone

Right this way.

The octopus salad is amazing.

So, I was thinking we could just get

a bunch of little things and share?

That way we can try everything tapas-style.

Don't know what half this stuff is.

I've been wanting to come to this place for months.

What?

Ever since Clara Bordeaux won Chef Boss,

it's, like, impossible to get in here.

- What is it? - Hmm?

Well, you, you're looking at me weird.

Oh, am I? I'm sorry.

Sorry.

Anyway, she won last season of Chef Boss, and...

It's just, your hair.

What about my hair?

It's... it's curly.

Uh

I feel like, in your profile photo, it was

I feel like it was straight.

Um...

Okay.

It's not that curly.

- See? Uh, straight. - Mm-hmm.

Uh... curly.

I wear it both ways.

Okay.

Do you not like it, or something?

Yeah, it's fine.

So, I read on Yelp that the squid ink paella

is a must, so...

- Hello? - I'm really not crazy about

I'm sorry. What-what did you just say?

That the squid ink paella is a must.

Hello?

Ooh, and do you like croquettes?

'Cause they've got pork or chicken.

Is someone there?

Um, hello?

Wait, wait, you can actually hear me?

What is... what's going on?

- This can't be real. - Uh, if that's okay with you,

I'm gonna get chicken. And it comes with four,

so we could each get two.

Yeah?

Are you okay?

Hmm? Hmm?

Uh...

I... am fine. I'm fine.

How are you doing this?

- Stop. Stop it. Stop it. - Uh, so maybe not the croquettes, then?

- Stop it. S-Stop it. - Unless you want them.

- Stop it. Stop it. - Oh, my God. What is happening?

So you do.

I don't understand. Can you hear me?

Yes. Of course I can hear you. I'm talking to you.

Or I'm thinking at you, I guess. What is happening?

- Is that what's happening? - I have no fucking clue. Excuse me?

- Are you still there? - What? No. I'm sorry.

- What? That wasn't for you. - Hello?

Okay.

Look, if you don't want them...-Yes. Yes. Yes.

- Hello? - Yes.

Okay, you're not listening, are you, Phil?

- Hello? - Okay.

Yeah, okay.

Hey. Hey, hey, could you excuse me

for just one moment?

Uh... yeah.

Shit.

Am I going crazy?

If you're going crazy, then I-I guess I am, too.

Okay.

Ha-ha.

This is...

This is very funny... Uh...

Who is this? Get out of my head.

You get out of my head.-No, you get out!

What are you, some... are you some kind of psychic?

No! I was just, I was just minding my own business at home

and your voice just suddenly popped into my head.

Oh, no, no, no, no... Okay.

- You listen to me. - I am listening to you.

Whatever the hell this is, I don't like it.

You don't like this? I don't like this!

Great, so stop talking to me.

And you stop talking to me.

- Deal! - Deal!

A voice in your head can mean a few different things.

A conscience, divine inspiration,

or madness.

But what if, instead, it were a case of crossed wires,

one made through the tangled, enigmatic switchboards

of The Twilight Zone?

You're traveling through another dimension,

a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind.

It is the middle ground between light and shadow,

between science and superstition.

And it lies between the pit of one's fears

and the summit of one's knowledge.

You are now traveling through a dimension of imagination.

You've just crossed over into The Twilight Zone.

Um...

Are you there?

Yep.

So, then I told her

to get out, but this morning she's still here.

- "She" being the voice? - Yeah.

Hmm. How did the rest of your date go last night?

As expected. Shitty.

You know, I dropped 200 bucks for nothing.

It's not a transaction.

No, of course not, I don't want a transaction.

I want something meaningful with someone awesome.

Mm-hmm.

I want to go back to this voice that you heard.

Can we discuss the possibility

that the voice was perhaps you?

Well, we spend a lot of time

in here talking about how you're "doomed to be alone,"

and how all these women, e-everydate you bring up, in fact,

you say it's their fault that you're unhappy.

Okay.

So, can we discuss the possibility

that this voice could, in fact, be a coping mechanism?

A fabrication that you made up to get out of a date

that you knew wasn't gonna go any further?

I-It wasn't going any further regardless, okay?

She was vapid, she was boring.

Her hair...

- It was different, but... - It's okay, Phil.

It's okay to have high standards,

but life isn't a romantic comedy.

And the perfect woman doesn't exist. So

maybe you and I can come up with some strategies

- so you can compromise. - She could've compromised.

"She" being the voice or your date?

Well, the voice and I actually made a deal

to stop talking to each other.

That's a, that's a compromise, isn't it?

Yeah.

Philip, are you familiar with the term

dissociative identity disorder?

You might have heard of it referred to

as multiple personality disorder.

What, are you telling me I'm crazy?

No, that's not what I'm saying.

Yes, Doctor, I have some anxiety, and who doesn't have

a little existential dread these days? But come on.

Yes, you're right. Anxiety.

I'm bored.

- What are you up to? - There she is.

She is talking to me. She is talking to me right now.

This is not a good time. Okay? My shrink

is currently telling me that I'm...

Let me guess, that you're nuts?

And what's she saying?

That you think I'm crazy.

Oh, here it comes.

Philip,

the symptoms of dissociativeidentity disorder often overlap

with a number of...

Well, now she definitely thinks I'm nuts.

That is just great. Thank you so much.

Hey, you're the one

who checked in with me this morning.

What happened to our deal, huh?

Look, I wasn't trying to start a conversation

in the middle of therapy.

Well, I'm sorry for being bored.

- You know what's funny, though? - Huh?

My shrink tried to tell me the same thing

when I told her about you. God, what quacks.

Totally. Actually... She doesn't even know

I stopped listening to her, like, a minute ago.

That is, that is not an expert.

Mm-mm. Yeah, they're real experts

at telling us what's wrong with us.

How's this for a diagnosis?

My life is shitty, therefore I feel like shit.

Uh-huh. Yeah.

You're right. I don't have to listen to this.

You sure don't.

And the only way they know how to deal with it is by cutting

off from their thoughts and their feelings.

It's almost like they're watching themselves,

like they're watch.

Philip?

Are you okay?

Holy crap.

Did you actually leave

- in the middle of a session? - I did.

- Yeah, I did that. - Wow.

I would pay money to see her face

when you walked out that door.

Okay, all right, look, whoever you are,

this is freakin' weird.

You're just here, spying on me all the time.

My thoughts are private, okay?