Bad Conscience: Han min noon toon han toon han

Good Conscience: No, Jeff!

Bad Conscience: Han toon ran toon ran toon fran min han toon ran toon nan toon fram

Good Conscience: No no no!

Jeff: Man! This stuff is great! It's just as if Donovan himself had appeared on my very own TV with words of peace, love, and eternal cosmic wisdom . . . ! Leading me. Guiding me. On paths of everlasting pseudo-karmic negligence, in the very midst of my drug-induced nocturnal emission.

Good Conscience: Oh, I am your good conscience, Jeff. I know all. I see all. I am a cosmic love pulse matrix, become a technicolor interpositive!

Jeff: Okay . . . Where'd you buy that incense? It's hip.

Good Conscience: It's the same and mysterious exotic oriental fragrance as what the Beatles get off on.

Jeff: I thought I recognized it . . . Sniff, sniff . . . Mmm, what is that, MUSK? Sniff, sniff, sniff . . . mmmh!

Good Conscience: Jeff, I know what's good for you.

Jeff: Right. You're heavy.

Good Conscience: Yes, Jeff, I am your guiding light. Listen to me. Don't rip off the towels, Jeff!

Bad Conscience: Piss off, you little nitwit!

Jeff: Hey man, what's the deal?

Good Conscience: Don't listen to him, Jeff, he's no good. He'll make you do BAD THINGS!

Jeff: You mean, he'll make me sin?

Good Conscience: Yes, Jeff. SIN!

Jeff: Wow!

Bad Conscience: Jeff, I'd like to have a word with you . . . about your soul.

Good Conscience: No, don't listen, Jeff.

Bad Conscience: Why are you wasting your life, night after night playing this comedy music?

Jeff: You're right, I'm too heavy to be in this group.

Good Conscience: Comedy music . . .

Bad Conscience: Jeff, YOUR SOUL!



Oh . . .

He's

Too heavy to

Be . . .



Jeff: In this