Listen to this. I was watching one night the Ed Sullivan Show, and Sullivan had on a hypnotist called The Great Renaldo.
And Renaldo got four guys up of the audience, and he hypnotized them, and he said to them "You think you are a fire engine".
And I'm home watching and I get drowsy and I fall asleep.
And I wake up an hour later, I turn the set off, and suddenly I am seized with an uncontrollable impulse to dress up in my red flannel underwear.
Which I do, and I'm looking at myself in the mirror.
Suddenly the phone rings, I burst out the front door and start running down Fifth Avenue fast, making a sirens noise.
At Fourteenth Street I hid a guy at an intersection, who was also wearing red flannel underwear.
We decided to work as one truck.
We start running down to the Village. Suddenly two guys in red flannel underwear pass us running uptown.
We figured, they must know where the fire is. We turned and followed.
At Eighty-sixth Street a cop flags us down, because there is four guys in red flannel underwear running in the street.
He said, "You’re coming down to headquarters, get into the car."
I start giggling hysterically, because this jerk is trying to get a fire engine into a lousy little Chevy.
And down at the station there is hundreds of guys in red flannel underwear.
These...I should just add, parenthetically, these stories are true. These things actually happened to me.
I don't make them up. My life is a series of these crises that I came home one night, some month ago, and I went to the closet in my bedroom, and a moth ate my sports jacket.
He was laying on the floor, nauseous, you know.
It was a yellow and green striped jacket, y'know.
The little fat moth laying there, groaning, you know, part of a sleeve hanging out of his mouth.
I gave him two plain brown socks. I said, "Eat one now and eat one in a half hour."