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| CUT TO: CLOSE UP OF STAN TAKING FRIED CHICKEN OUT OF THE BUCKET. IT'S CONGEALED INTO A GREASY, GLUTINOUS MESS. SHOT WIDENS | ||||||
| STAN: Which do you prefer - breasts. . . or thighs. . . ? | ||||||
| BARBARA: It doesn't matter. | ||||||
| STAN: Whatever floats your boat, huh? I love that in a woman. | ||||||
| HE DEPOSITS SOME CHICKEN IN FRONT OF BARBARA AND TAKES SOME FOR HIMSELF. | ||||||
| BARBARA: Thanks. | ||||||
| STAN: Y'know, it's kind of warm in here, isn't it? You don't mind if I unbutton my shirt, do you? | ||||||
| BARBARA: No, go ahead. | ||||||
| STAN UNBUTTONS HIS SHIRT AND RUBS HIS CHEST. | ||||||
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