Jez Moonbeam is explaining to us why he has invented a giant pocket. He has got a blackboard and a pointy stick and he looks very professional, even though he is clearly some kind of looney nutjob. Anyway, he starts talking at us, and it goes like this:
"Why would anyone want to invent a giant pocket?" he asks, then goes on to answer his own question. "Well, very useful if you've got a giant jacket to put it in, but dudes who rock those kind of massive threads are thin on the ground. In conclusion: there ain't no bread in it, man. But pockets can be useful for other things, can't they?"
Oliver stuck up his hand. "Please sir, you can put things in them."
"Sure, but we've kind of covered that."
Dodger raised a hand. "Cor blimey, mate. If you had somefink really big, then you could stuff it in yer big pocket."
"Well," said Moonbeam. "That's sort of exactly the same thing your buddy said. No, you see pockets have a natural ability to produce pocket lint. And the bigger the pocket, the more lint."
There was silence. Professor Moonbeam obviously thought we would be impressed by this. We weren't. "Who the bleedin' 'ell wants pocket lint?" asked Dodger.
"Upholsterers," said Moonbeam. "Manufacturers of loft insulation. It can be used to stuff cushions, grit roads, all sorts of groovy stuff. But man, listen up, all this is just a by-product of the main research. Thing is, nobody knows where this lint comes from. It just appears in pockets spontaneously. Freaky, right? Well, one theory suggests that it's actually bleeding into our dimension through wormholes in the fabric of the pocket. Now, the bigger the pocket, the bigger the wormholes. Hence my work." Moonbeam paused and took a breath before making his revelation. "Yes, that's right. My big pocket is a gateway to another dimension."