Spouse cake

The wife and I have retired for the evening. We are lying in bed late on a Saturday night (about 10pm), waiting for sleep to take its hold, so that we can get through the weekend as quickly as possible before the sweet relief of Monday morning eases us away from our marital bliss, when...

Wife: You know how those Argentinian rugby players crashed in the Andes years ago and the survivors ate the dead in order to stay alive?

(Awkward silence for about a minute, not knowing where she's going with this but feeling quite strongly that I'm not going to like it.)

Sad muppet: Yes.

W: Well, if we were in a plane crash and you died and I survived, would you mind if I ate your body?

Sm: Are there no other options?

W: Well I guess there will still be plane food, but I don't really like plane food.

Sm: Well in that case, I'm going to have to insist that you don't eat my corpse. Eat the plane food first.

W: But the plane food is designed to last for weeks, but your corpse is going to start rotting straight away. Surely it makes sense to rather eat your corpse first.

Sm: Um... I still don't feel comfortable with you eating me when there's another food source available. How long do you think you'd go without food before you start eating your husband?

W: (Thinks for a while) Probably a couple of hours.

Sm: In that case, no you may definitely not eat my corpse.

W: Why not?

Sm: You should only eat my corpse if it's to save your life.

W: But I'm peckish!

Sm: No!

Silence fills the room again and sleep starts to slowly take hold again.

W: What if you died in bed. Would you object to me eating your corpse?

Sm: Yes! Call an ambulance! Get a doctor over. I might not be dead. I might just be in a coma.

W: What if you were definitely dead?

Sm: How would you know? You're not a trained medical technician.

W: I checked by shooting you twice in the head. You're definitely dead.

Sm: Oh! Okay, so I'm dead. Why do you want to eat my corpse? Don't we have food in the kitchen?

W: Yes, but it's so far to walk and it's so much effort to make food and you're right here, ready to be eaten.

Sm: I'm sorry, but I have to put my foot down. No, you may not eat my corpse!

W: You're so mean.

And so sleep yet again enters the Muppet household and this time manages to take a firm grip on the happily married couple and drags them off to the land of dreams and possible death.

The next morning I'm woken to a sharp pain in my left arm. Oh no! What if I'm having a heart attack! My wife won't call for an ambulance! I must quickly try to get to my phone and call before it's too...

I look down at my left arm and find my wife gnawing on my arm.

She stops briefly, sensing that she's being watched and looks up.

W: Sorry. I thought you were dead.