- [first lines]
- Himself - Host: [Standing in front of a full-length mirror with a chair to the side, Hitchcock is tying up his dressing gown; he notices the audience in the mirror and turns to them] Good evening. I hope you'll excuse me for not being ready at show time, but my watch is slow.
- [Looks at wrist - but there is no watch on it]
- Himself - Host: As a matter of fact, it hasn't even gotten here yet. First I would like to announce a change in our program. Shakespeare's Hamlet will not be presented tonight. We don't feel it's suitable to show in the home - all those corpses, you know. Instead we are offering a story entitled, "The Hands of Mr. Ottermole". Most of our stories have taken place in the United States, or one of the other colonies, but tonight we offer a new locale. "The Hands of Mr. Ottermole" is laid in a far-off land of mystery and enchantment - England. And now suppose you continue squinting at this little screen while I slip into something more uncomfortable.
- [inclines his head slightly and walks off]
- [last lines]
- Himself - Host: [We see a large man's back, and it looks like he is strangling Alfred Hitchcock] Ow! Stop it! Stop it!
- [the man was trying to tie Alfred's bow tie as he is now in a formal dinner suit. Alfred shoos the man away]
- Himself - Host: I'll tie it myself. It won't take long. I'm sure it'll be ready by next week's show.
- [turns to the mirror to continue tying, then abruptly turns back and points to the audience]
- Himself - Host: And you be ready, too.
- [turns back to mirror]
- Whybrow's Nephew: Why would anyone want to kill them? There's just no reason for it!
- Sergeant Ottermole: Oh, there's a reason alright, must be. They're dead, aren't they?
- Mr. Summers: [last lines]
- Mr. Summers: Yes, his hands. Did you hear what he said about his hands? He said, ideas came into his hands.
- Reporter: He must have been insane.
- Reporter: Yes, I suppose so.