Eric: So hey, look, I'm really sorry about your mom. And, uh, I mean, are you okay?
Donna: I don't know. It's weird.
Eric: Yeah, well, you know, it won't make you feel any better but for some reason, I brought you a casserole. I mean, why is it that every time something bad happens, grown-ups always think you need food? You lost your job? Congratulations, you get a bucket of chicken! I mean, the last thing you want is to-
Donna: [eating] Are these crushed potato chips?
Eric: Look- Donna, look. I know we broke up but I still, you know... I still care about you. [Donna kisses Eric and starts to undress him] Okay. Okay. So... [Eric clears the table]
Donna: Eric, in the bedroom.
Eric: Oh, yeah, I knew that. I'll just- I'm gonna-