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
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