Let's Eat Dinner.. I found this funny

SCENE: A SMALL, DOMESTIC KITCHEN SOMEWHERE IN AMERICA. A YOUNG MAN NAMED STAN SITS AT A DINING TABLE IN THE DARK, WEARING ONLY BOXER BRIEFS. HE HOLDS A FROZEN DINNER IN HIS HANDS; THE BOX FEATURES A LURID PICTURE OF A NAKED CHICKEN; HIS HANDS ARE SWEATING. THE DOOR OPENS. HIS WIFE SARAH APPEARS.

Sarah: Stan, are you in here?

Stan: Oh yeah…

Sarah: Why are you sitting in the dark?

Stan: You mean what am I wearing in the dark?

SARAH FLIPS ON THE LIGHT. STAN GETS UP AND RUSHES TOWARDS HER, DROPPING THE LURID CHICKEN.

Sarah: Ew, quit it!

Stan: Come on, you know you're hungry. Let's dine.

Sarah: Get your hands off of me! Jesus, is this why you had the lights off?

Stan: I thought it put you in the mood!

Sarah: [pushes him away, notices the chicken dinner] Stan…is that a Lean Cuisine on the floor?

Stan: No.

Sarah: [picks up the chicken dinner] I can't believe it.

Stan: It gets me worked up, all right?

Sarah: But you said you'd hidden them!

Stan: Well, what did you expect?

Sarah: I told you: I don't care if you keep them around the house, as long as I don't see them. [Holds up the box, pointing at a breast] This makes you hungry? And Lean Cuisine of all things…you think that breast is all-natural? My father used to keep Stouffers around the house, so I can understand a good hearty meatloaf. But Lean Cuisine?

Stan: [quietly] Stouffers doesn't do it for me anymore…Come on babe, I wanna chow.

Sarah: Don't use that word.

Stan: Sorry…I meant, let's make dinner.

Sarah: I'm not in the mood.

Stan: But we never have dinner anymore!

Sarah: We're definitely not going to now. I wasn't hungry anyway.

Stan: How can you not want dinner?

Sarah: Stan, we had dinner last night. You had dinner twice last weekend!

Stan: So what? In some cultures people eat dinner every night!

Sarah: Oh, so now we have to be like everyone else?

Stan: I didn't say that.

Sarah: I told you when we got married, I like dinner. Some nights there's nothing I want more than a nice, candlelit dinner, with you, you moron. It's just that I just don't need dinner?-

Stan: But I do! I love dinner. I love dinner regularly. When I come home I want to enter my house, I want to see my wife, and then I want to have dinner with her. It's what every man wants! What's so wrong with that?

Sarah: There's nothing wrong with that.

Stan: Exactly.

Sarah: There's something wrong with that chicken though…

Stan: Forget the chicken. Baby, Mr. Stomach is growling.

Sarah: [sighs loudly] So go have dinner with your friends.

Stan: Oh, so now you're Mrs. Funny?

Sarah: Better than having a "Mr. Stomach."

Stan: You know Bob Wiley? He and his wife have dinner twice a day.

Sarah: So that would be…lunch?

Stan: Soon it'll be Miss Funny if you keep starving me like this.

Sarah: Oh, so now you're starving. Now there's a famine around the house.

Stan: Last night wasn't exactly a big meal.

Sarah: Well, you ate pretty quickly, didn't you? And frankly I could have used a little dessert.

Stan: [laughs, pulls her toward him] Girls are all the same. Look, let's not fight.

Sarah: Honey, you know I like dinner. I'm just exhausted, and I've still got that cold. Can't we have dinner on Saturday?

Stan: Baby, of course. We'll take our time. Maybe we can mix it up a bit. I've got this fantasy going, where you're working in a restaurant -

Sarah: [pushes him away, leaves the room] Forget it, sicko, you can make dinner for yourself?-and you're doing the dishes!

SARAH TURNS OFF THE LIGHTS AND SLAMS THE DOOR BEHIND HER. STAN PICKS UP THE LEAN CUISINE AND STARES LONGINGLY AT THE CHICKEN.

Stan: [whispers woefully] No one cooked like mom…