>>15511914http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBHx9S_gxoM"Why the hell was everything raw?"
The fellow--whose name you discover to be "Gordon" thanks to the tag on his person-- looks up at you, "Because my entire BLOODY crew consists of nothing but straight novices who couldn't cook a microwavable BURRITO if the directions were ON THE WRAPPER ITSELF. Can you imagine the look on my face, the LOOK, when I have to tell those peachy dicks that you have TO PRE-HEAT THE OVEN BEFORE YOU PUT ANYTHING IN IT? IT'S STAGGERING. I hate this. I hate them, they're all rookie cunts at the most simplest shit."
"Well, are they at least trying? I mean if they're putting an effort, even a shitty effort, it at least has to mean they care a lot about their job, right?"
Ramsay takes a deep inhale through the slits of his teeth, "Kid. Most of the incompetent arses I work with don't even have the skill to make a five-star dish, but they at least know how to stuff a FUCKING Farfetch'd. These guys, these TWATS, they just THROW SHIT IN THE OVEN FOR HOWEVER LONG THEY BLOODY WANT, TAKE IT OUT, SEASON IT: "HERE MR RAMSAY IT'S DONE :DDDDD"-- NO. IT DOESN'T BLOODY WORK LIKE THAT-- IT'S RAW, YOU DO WHAT YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DO OR YOU CAN JUST FUCK OUT OF THE KITCHEN."
"W-Well maybe they messed u-"
"IT'S FUCKING RAW, KID. YOU CAN'T SERVE THAT TO A PERSON. THIS ISN'T TORCHIC-FIL-A, THIS IS A BLOODY PALACE WITH QUALITY STANDARDS EXPECTATIONS, THEY EXPECT SOMETHING THAT ISN'T SHIT! I need to come up with a whole buffet before tonight's crappy ball, or I'm definitely going to get lynched."
You raise your hands in self-defense, sweat trickling down your forehead, or Ramsay's spit, whatever, "O-Okay, g-got it!"
A) "What cat-attack?"
B) He needs to chillax, give him some aspirin or something.
C) Offer to help Ramsay out in his time of need.
