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Originally Posted by Woody Allen
I wrote a science fiction film which I'll tell you about. It's ten after four in the afternoon, and everybody in the world mysteriously falls asleep. Just like that, they are driving cars, whatever they are doing, bang!, they got to sleep, the Russians, the Chinese, the Americans, and the whole world sleeps for exactly one hour, till ten after five, and they wake up at ten after five, and mysteriously upon awakening everybody in the world find themselves in the pants business.
Stay with us, 'cause it's brilliant.
Everybody is making cuffs and flies and cutting velvet, y'know, And a spaceship lands from another planet, and men get out with jackets and shirts and black socks - no trousers at all. They say: "Are the pants ready?" We say: "No. Could you come back thursday?". They say they must have them, 'cause they are going to a wedding, and we work dillingently and make pants constantly and they come to get them, and when they come to pick them up, they leave us with socks, hankerchiefs, pillowcases and soiled linnen, and they say: "Do it!", and the president of the United States goes on television and says that an alien superpower from outer space with superior intelligence is bringing us their laundry, and they are foiled, 'cause they travelled a hundred and seventeen million lightyears to pick it up, and they forget their ticket.
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