"I'm the best, so do not test, the top of my profession." "The master of my chosen field, of that there is no question." "Serious." "Serious, profession." "Serious." "Serious, profession." "It is now mid december, in early spring I distinctly remember a questing of worthy bourguignon marinade." "Chef!" "Gratin dauphinois, Yes, Chef!" "Eight roast quail, nine coming leaping in a partridge in a wine stew." "Chef!" "Where the frig are they!" "?" "Yes, Chef!" "Having so many mindless zombies is lumbering about is "Night of the Living Dead"" "Gareth, I need to talk to you, now." "I don't know if you have noticed it Georgia but I'm just a tiny bit busy right now." "I'm cooking, you see, that's why I have got this funny clothes on." "That's what I am, a cook." "What you are, is a restaurant owner just like me and there is a problem." "Everton?" "Those fish will go off." "Couldn't you put them in the fridge?" "Right away, mrs." "Blackstock." "Janice, I don't want to row in my kitchen." "Great, then get your ass out of it, and let's have a row in here." "Lucinda." "Chef." "Take charge for a moment, would you?" "Yes, Chef." "I believe my wife wishes to consult me on a... managerial matter." "I'm sorry I gave you an order in your kitchen." "It's okay." "And don't say it like it isn't okay." "Of course it isn't okay, people have died an unspeakable and lingering agony for far less." "Your my wife, so this time I let you off." "Once more, and I'll be a widow looking up the number of Claus von Bulow's laywer." "What's this?" "Your kitchen's orders are phenomenal." "They are not." "Top one is from a mrs." "Courtney." "Ah, I love mrs Courtney, her produce is superb, under no circumstances am I giving her up." "That's for one month supply of herb." "Janice whatever it is, it is what it cost, all right?" "It is a very straight lovely, very genuine woman." "The evil grasping devious, warthfaced scrupulous little hag." "This is outragious." "Yes." "She's taking advantage of me." "Yes." "She never, ever darkens our doors again." "Hooheeh...." "Good morning, mrs." "Courtney." "Ooh, Obviously." "I'll handle this..." "Now, Gareth," "There is no need for any unnecessary unpleasantness." "Janice..." "I can be trusted to deal with a supplier, I'm not a child..." "I shall be firm, but you know.." "tactfull." "Okay." "I still need to talk to you." "Chef, can I give you the tiniest nudge these are four your Christmas requirements?" "Mrs. Courtney." "Chef." "We are not opening for Christmas and I hereby take your trug for the last time." "You see it just so happens that my boyfriend..." "What?" "Do not misunderstand me, Mrs Courtney, do not take this the wrong way." "Well, yes, yes..." "This is personal," "I want to be rude, I'm hoping to cause offence." "I have a lifelong abhorrence of violence inflicted on women, but I'm giving urgent in consideration to making an exception in your case." "Mr. Blacstock!" "I have just seen your bill." "It is the for the sort of money which rarely changes hands without the aid of a gun and a getaway car." "There are names at Loyd's sitting alone and in darkened rooms with loaded revolvers, who are less then this." "It's a disgrace!" "You're charging me so much money, you can afford to eat in my restaurant!" "Why don't you just take up drug traffic ain' you have done!" "Now, G..." "It would mean a sharp drop in your income granted." "Chef, you've never complained before." "This isn't a bill, this is..." "grievers bodely invoicing." "Just said you, mrs." "Courtney, bring me the best I said, and I'll pay what is fair." "Yes.." "And you betrayed my trust." "and you have done that, that which I dread most in all the world." "What, eh, what's that?" "You have proved my wife right!" "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." "I care nothing for your sorrow," "I care only for the site of your fast retreating back." "I never wish to see your grasping extortion and aboriginous, repulsious, usurious, devious and deceitful personage ever again." "Fare Well." "One more thing.." "What?" "Compliments of the season." "Gareth..." "Gareth." "Janice, I, I can't." "I'm sorry, you know, I'm just.." "I'm so tired." "The spirit is willing." "I've got some things, I want to talk about." "Talk about?" "It is in the middle of the night." "It is not in the middle of the night," "It is half past one." "Oh, silly me." "Lying about here in my bed, wasting my life." "I haven't to get up till six, I went to bed what, ten minutes ago now?" "I know, let's get some chums over crack open a bottle, and party till we puke." "Gareth, we need to talk, things are bad." "I think..." "I think we gonna have to open for christmas..." "Oh, no we're not!" "No way we're opening for christmas, I have to have a brake soon, I have to." "It's out of the question, do you understand?" "All right then... good night." "I mean it." "I know." "Night, night." "You know, I'm sorry, you know I don't just seem unreasonable or anything." "It is that I have to sleep know." "I simply have to." "All right, so how bad are things?" "I know, this is your department." "Yes." "So, I suppose I'm partly insulated from the full horror." "Totally insulated." "Totally, yes." "Yes, totally." "So, how about our things?" "Terrible." "Terrible?" "Simply desparate." "Night, night." "No, no, Janice, come on!" "Ooh.." "Gareth.." "I've heard of fortunate women whose husbands were not leaving them alone in bed" "This is not what's meant by that." "This is the worst of both worlds." "Please, I need very badly to be in a coma right now." "Oh, come on Janice, don't be silly." "Look, if... , if things are desperate, then we must talk them over obviously, and.." "there's a whole lot of planning to be done." "what planning?" "Well, if we are opening for Christmas we've left things very late." "Hate seeing ingredients walking about." "You don't want certainly being introduced to your supper, while it's still in the condition to repond." "These are free range, of course?" "They have coups with one suites, they eat organic food, they sleep under non allergenic duvets they take all of evening prumrose, and worry about there deltoids." "This is turkey heaven." "you know, there's the pinnacle." "well they sure cost enough." "Are you certain they'll actually taste better?" "Defenitely." "And a blind tasting?" "What... is this?" "Oh, that's the bag, the turkey came in chef.." "Everton, are there certain headlines you long to read?" "Hè?" "Thousands died, after eating at "Le Chateau Anglais"." "Bring back the news cry loved ones of deceased diners." "No chef, it was only there..." "Are you seeking a carreer in chemical warfare?" "Deadly bacteria developped in gourmet kitchen." "Bang new horror weapon pleads monster you all bruce Kent." "Piers!" "Chef?" "Consign this polymer to the flames." "Yes, Chef." "Chef, it's only that mrs." "Blackstock..." "what!" "?" "She said to me.." "Where are we?" "How do you mean, exactly chef?" "Everton, you are blessed with a rudimentary intelligence, scarcely develloped granted, but sufficient enough to be able, to place ourself in our time space continuum." "Where are we?" "In the kitchen, chef." "Who's kitchen?" "Well, your's but..." "Mrs. Blackstock is the finest example of her sex in the known world." "Yes, Chef, is some..." "I yield to know man in my unbridelled admiration for her many remarkable qualities, but here in my kitchen she is chopped liver." "Here, I am king." "That's understandable, chef." "I make no claims, to world dictatorship," "I do not expect to succeed Elizabeth Windsor when the sad day eventually comes, but here, in my kitchen I have ultimate and terrifying power." "With respect, chef, I just wanna say..." "And I don't believe that in kitchens intensive salmonella farms are to be avoided." "Call me old fashioned, but in my kitchen, lethal bacilae are shown the door sooner, rather than later." "Yes, Chef..." "As are tiresome kitchen assistants!" "Yes, Chef..." "Not another word." "chef......" "Are we ready?" "We are." "That one." "That one." "That's the one." "Defenitely that one." "Oh, this is Touser's wedding takle, no mistake." "It is simply perfect." "Oh, well there you are Jannet, I told you." "This is the finest turkey available, there is no alternative." "No." "All the more remarkable, because I bought it in the butcher's just outside Sirensester, yesterday." "third of the price of this one." "retail." "which butcher?" "what farm, did you make a note?" "Oh better then that." "Thank God." "I asked Everton to keep the bag it came in." "These were printed on it, the butcher the farm everything." "What's wrong?" "There's none left." "The bosses day off, and this guy can't remember where they came from." "Well, he must remember, did he really try?" "What?" "Well, if you concentrate hard enough, you can remember things that you have forgotten, you know, I mean, the police use hypnosis a lot." "People can recall a lot like that." "You know, I never thought of that, how stupid." "I just knit back and pop him in a trance." "You read the bag, you saw the adress!" "I did, it said "something" farm I told you." "Why couldn't you make a simple note." "And you can never do the simplest thing I ask." "Shut up, now just get comfortable." "You say "shut up" to me once..." "Shut up, take off the belt." "All right, relax." "Just.." "let... go..." "All right..." "Are you relaxed?" "Yessss." "Let your mind go clear." "Your looking at the lable..." "Don't look just right at it!" "Sort of... glance at the bag as a whole and then happen to "come across" the lable." "Surprise it." "Your looking at the lable..." "What does it say?" "Organic, free range turkey, with giblets nine pounds and seven ounces." "What else?" "Something "turkey farm"" "You said it said "something" farm." "Yes when now I come to think of it it said something turkey farm." "Wilts." "You see, it worked!" "Yes well it hasn't helped much has it, I had assumed it wasn't a mink farm, and Wilts is a big county." "If only you made a note of it..." "Right." "That's it." "You'll be hearing from my sollicitors." "Janice?" "I shall be suing you for your recipe and cookbook rights." "and I shall talk in court at great lenght about your unreasonable sexual demands." "What's unreasonable about my sexual demands?" "You don't make any!" "It never occurs to him that anyone has a life of their one of any sort." "No..." "I mean, I could have wanted to spend christmas with my boyfriend." "All right..." "Actually, chef I didn't know you had a boyfriend." "Of course, I haven't." "How could I have a boyfriend?" "I spend all my life in this kitchen." "Mmmm... true." "To find some guy with a low testosteron count who works all the time, who wants the company of a comatant female one night a week?" "What, like a cook, sort of thing?" "Where are you gonna spend Christmas Ira?" "Bed... ehhh...." "Thank you very much." "The Soil Association is selling us a list of organic farms." "We'll find it there." "Oh, why couldn't they read it out?" "It's thirty pages long." "Where is the Soil Association?" "Bristol." "We'll go there now, I can't take another day off." "We don't have to, I'll go." "Not alone, Gareth." "You'd pay the man three times the propper price." "I would not!" "We've left it very late, we need the best turkeys." "I do the deals, this is my only day, we are going now." "Janice, we are not going all the way to the Soil Association" "Don't tell me, we are going to have to fly to Salt Lake City and consult the mormons." "Wiltshire, Wiltshire, Wiltshire...." "Saracen Farm!" "I remember know!" "I always had the Saracen's head, your's even cut off." "Remind me of turkeys at christmas, Saracen." "Is it listed?" "It is." "Yes." "Saracen Turkey Farm...." "Nortman Magno Wilts." "Nortman Magno Wilts, I'm so pleased that you remembered, you saved us so much trouble." "We have christmas in Gomorra, my sisters... snow and stuff." "It's nice, I like Christmas." "Why that you don't have to work here?" "My chef made himself perfectly clear." "And what did he say?" "That I was completely free to do what I wanted." "So what did you do?" "I cancelled Vermont." "No answer." "We'll drive outthere." "Janice, get used to it, you are not driving us out to the wilds of Wiltshire now." "No, I'm not, you are." "One of us has to map read and next to you Mark Thatcher is Henry the navigator." "Where is Saracens Farm?" "Well, that sign must have been wrong." "We have made a great many turnings since that sign, all without benefit of further advice." "We have at all the times relied at exclusively on your singular navigational abilities." "Or, to put it in another way we are hopelesly lost." "Don't wish to appear waspish in any way but I do think a line of apology to Mark Thatcher is in order." "Gareth, you get stuck." "Oh, shut up!" "Don't say shut up to me!" "We're marooned on the only fragment of dry ground in Wiltshire," "A slurry lagoon in front of us, quicksand to either side, and a quart mile behind and you anounce, that you are afraid that we might get stuck." "We are stuck!" "We need a helicopter, a tractor or eight gramophone records." "And all because a can't be trusted to strike a simple deal with a farmer." "Well, you can't." "She'll be very upset..." "No, she'll be allright." "Hello, auntie Clarice, it's me." "To spot a bad news, I can't make it for christmas." "Can't somebody else make the dumplings?" "Oh, don't say that." "Auntie Clarice!" "Auntie Clarice?" "She was very upset." "What did she say?" "She said, she'd kill me." "And then she said, she'd break every bone in my body." "And then she wished my bad luck for the rest of my life." "That's always been the problem with auntie Clarice, she's always loved my to much." "If he's from Saracen Farm, don't say you want turkeys." "Of course not." "No, we've gone al this way, whatever we do, we mustn't end up with what we're after." "I'll let it him guess." "Don't be tiresome." "We mustn't seem to keen." "I know, I'll say that we're just passing." "Out for a drive." "Took a wrong term of the M4." "I don't think it is a guy, actually." "Oh, no." "What?" "It's mrs." "Courtney, what's she doing here?" "Oh, my god." "What?" "She was the one who told me about the Saracens butcher." "I remember now." "Your memory chooses the greatest times to kick in doesn't it?" "How rude were you to her?" "Let's hope she's nothing to do with Saracens Farm." "Her boyfriend owns it." "Well, well." "Come for some turkeys, have you?" "No, no." "No, ehm, we eh..." "It's nice around these parts, isn't it we, eh had a day off today, so whe come out for our joy, you know." "Good afternoon mrs." "Courtney." "I'm glad that we bumped in to you mrs Courtney, because it occured to me, that after we last spoke, I may have seemed a little... brusque." "Your stuck!" "Well, ehm..." "I can't imagine any normal person even trying to bring a car uphere." "No..." "You must be absolutely desperate, to get our turkeys." "No, hè, no no..." "Which is a shame, because every one of our birds is spoken for." "We'll pay double." "No, we won't!" "Double what?" "The going rate." "Gareth!" "Shut up, Janice!" "You, steady on, mr." "Blackstock." "Remember your lifeling apallance of violence to women." "Now, you see, that is a case in point." "When I said that..." "I mean, I can quite see, how you could have taken that the wrong way." "How can I apologise enough?" "You can't, mr." "Blackstock." "I'm going to treat you, of a view, of my fast retreating back." "We'll pay three times!" "Gareth!" "And reinstate your herb supply!" "Gareth!" "Just how many do you want, exactly." "We're fully booked for christmas, madam." "No room at all, I'm afraid." "Indifference with the season, if you're in the latest stages of pregnancy," "I can fix you up with a corner of the garage, but otherwise..." "Of course, madame but cancelations are extremely rare." "How many would it be for?" "Thirty, hehe..." "Thirty." "I think we might have a slight communication problem here, madame" "You see, what I had in mind, was the remote possibility, of the odd cancelation, you know, one or two." "Le Chateau Anglais, is not situated in the Bermuda Triangle." "This is not a war zone." "The black death has been very quiet around here in recent years, and I am not the chef on board the Mary Celeste." "mmm..." "We don't do cancellations in the region of thirty, madame." "But how many people this near the actual day, may I suggest you give serious thought, to a Mac Turkey Burger, and christmas pudding flavoured thick shake." "Farewell." "Bloody People." "Chef..." "Gosh, what a lot of turkeys." "Ehm..." "Bad news, while you were out." "The frobisher party cancelled." "The frobisher party was half the dining room." "Yes..." "Hello, Le Chateau Anglais here, I believe we spoke earlier." "Yes, amazing things happened and we might just be able to fit you..." "Yes, there has been a cancellation." "Amazingly." "The Oxfordshire Triangle, hehe, yes..." "Le Chateau Celeste, hehe, dear me." "You didn't know war had broken out in this part of the country, yes madame, I think we've done that one actually." "I have the clearest impression of a point having been made." "May I say, how much we are look forward to seeing you and your party on on the twenty fifth?" "What?" "Yes, of course we can madame, that's no problem." "Thank you." "What?" "They are vegetarian." "Merry Christmas, everyone." "Merry Christmas!" "Ça marche, one aspergus goulash, Chef!" "one roast kidney pie, Chef!" "one beef Wellington, Chef!" "one roast turkey." "Yes, Chef." "Actually, I'll do the turkey." "Oh, that'll be able for christmas, would have been ashamed to miss all this." "Yeah, sure." "Tragic." "Oh yeah, ça marche, seven broccoli and tofu crepes, eight spirit and almond strudle, twelve.... and a whole meal tagliatelli..." "I wonder when you have changed, if you like a quick drink, in the dining room before supper." "A drink." "Just a quick one hey." "And a happy new year." "So this is what the dining room looks like." "Hey, what you think we're having?" "Can't imagine." "I suppose the fact that he has more turkeys to unload than Michael Winner has anything to do with this." "Hehehe., heheh" "Hear, we got our own morons." "Ladies and gentlemen I want to take your orders for the mean cours." "I can offer you pouched salmon, rack of lamb, roast guinea fowl." "Unless any of you would like......" "I'd like... turkey, actually." "I'd like turkey to." "Turkey, if possible, Chef." "Likewise." "Certainly, please begin." "Have you really got, poached salmon and all that stuff?" "Don't ask silly questions, Janice." "Right, order." "I would like to wish the worlds finest chef de party a very Mary Christmas." "Marry Christmas!" "And I like to wish you all a Merry Christmas, as well." "I think, also you should get this christmas wish." "What's that?" "Bed." "Bed." "Bèèèd." "Want it." "Janice..." "What?" "Janice?" "What?" "Blimey, this must be christmas." "Shut up." "You tell me to shut up, once more..." "You, shut up."