Which triggers an even further recidivistic excursion into ... radio!
Inner Sanctum.
Some badly damaged still living something or other crashes into the house downstairs. Silence. Stumbling around, crashing around, then big zapping sound and howling and (we're told) house plunges into darkness as the creature somehow is fried by an errant refrigerator.
Until ... heavy steps ... slowly ... one by one ... unearthly low breathing and slobbering ... coming up the stairs toward us, the terrified listeners magnifying the monster beyond belief in our own private worst case imaginations!
Radio. Still listen to one occasionally in the car. And most the characters still look more vivid in the imagination than in reality.
Back to the thread: Twilight Zone. Yeah. Good recall. Karen Black with her narrow eyes like an old Saturn car getting forked by a doll running amok.
Never again did I ask, What's in the oven?
