One of the doormen, a very likable and funny guy named Larry who had seen my show all week, happened to come in from the street, carrying a pair of pants on a hanger fresh from the dry cleaner. I looked at him, and he looked back, knowing he was in for it. He had a great sense of humor and didn’t mind a bit. I said disdainfully, “Oh, it’s Cleanpants. Mr. Cleanpants. You think your pants are so CLEAN. Well, CLEANPANTS, we don’t need your type around here…. WAIT, CLEANPANTS…where ya going? You think you don’t need us because your PANTS ARE SO CLEAN?” A better comic foil could not have been
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