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Arthas: Glad you could bake it, Uther.
Uther: Watch your tone with me, boy. You may be the waiter, but I'm still your superior as a chef.
Arthas: As if I could forget. Listen, Uther, there's something about the cake you should know.
Arthas: Oh no. It's too late. These muffins have all been overgrazed. They may look fine now, but it's a matter of time before they turn into paperweights.
Uther: What?
Arthas: This entire buffet must be purged.
Uther: How can you even consider that? There's got to be some other way.
Arthas: Damn it, Uther. As your future sous-chef I order you to purge this buffet.
Uther: You are not my sous-chef yet, boy. Nor would I obey that command if you were!
Arthas: Then I must consider this an act of work misconduct.
Uther: Misconduct? Have you lost your mind, Arthas?
Arthas: Have I? Lord Uther, by my right of succession and sovereignty of my spatula, I hereby relieve you from your command and suspend your chefs from service.
Jaina: Arthas, you can't just...
Arthas: It's done! Those of you who have the will to save this restaurant, follow me. The rest of you... get out of my sight.
Uther: You've just crossed a terrible union, Arthas
Arthas: Jaina?
Jaina: I'm sorry, Arthas. I can't watch you cook this.