Mouldy Head 1: I’m so lonely! No one phones me up. Writes. Asks me out to dinner. Do I depress them so much? Do I live in my head with no witty things to make a lively evening? Night after night I sit here hoping for the spark, for the look in the mirror that says I’m not getting older. Should I grow my hair long again just to prove I’m not past it? I hate them. I don’t want to see them. They’re off out having a nice time, being excited, exciting, experiencing life. I know why I’m left here alone. I’m broke. I have no social standing.
Mouldy Head 2: You’re dead.
Mouldy Head 1: No!
Mouldy Head 2: Living in the past. Dead in the present.
Mouldy Head 1: Then I’ve nothing to lose. Don’t shoot. I love you!