Mark: "Hi, friends. Now just be honest about it, friends and neighbours. Did you ever consider the possibility that your penis, and in the case of many dignified ladies, that size of the tities themselves might possibly provide elements of sub-conscious tension . . . "

Howard: See, the trouble here, Frank, lies in the fact that on that sheet it says "that size," it doesn't say "that the size" therefore . . .

FZ: Get a pencil and write in "that the size"

Mark: Could I have a . . .

Howard: Well, I'm sorry

Mark: " . . . weird, twisted anxieties which could force a person to become a politician, a policeman, a narc, a casket maker . . . "

FZ: An usher!

Jeff: A musician

Mark: "Or in the case of the ladies, the ones that can't afford a silicon beef-up, become writers of hot books!"

Howard: "I placed my burning phallus between her quivering quim!"

Mark: "A carmelite nun!"

Howard: "She placed my burning phallus between her quivering quim!"

Mark: "Or jockeys! There is no reason why you or your loved one should suffer. Things are bad enough already without the size of your organ adding even more misery to the troubles of the world! If you are a lady with munchkin tits, you can't console yourself with this age old line . . . "

FZ: No, "you can console yourself"

Mark: "You can console yourself with this age old line from . . . "

Howard: Simmons!

POOO-HHH! POOO-AHH-AHH!

Mark: "And if you're a guy . . . "

Howard: "Anything over a mouthful . . . "

Mark