Work Text:
“You’re Italian! Cook the fucking meatballs right! They’re raw!” the young chef shrieks.
She cannot believe she has to work with these men today. Gordon suggested that the remaining Hell’s Kitchen contestants need to be able to work with anyone.
What she didn’t expect was a bunch of men with one foot in the grave.
“If you bring me one more raw meatball, Terzo, I’ll make you eat it. I swear to God.”
“Yes, chef. Right away, chef.”
The man scurries away. The chef turns her attention to the man named Copia, who has been laughing at Nihil for the entire duration of this dinner service.
“Copia, focus on your fucking pasta, or so help me, I will shove it up your ass.”
Copia throws his hands up in surrender. The angry woman looks at Secondo. “Take Nihil’s sleeping ass and drag him out of my kitchen.”
“With pleasure, chef.”
Secondo leaves his station, grabbing one of Nihil’s arms. The old man looks like a ragdoll, being tugged across the floor.
“Thanks, Mr. Worldwide.” She couldn’t help herself. He looks so much like Pitbull.
Primo has been a dream to work with. His fish station is pristine. Every dish has been cooked to perfection.
“Primo, how long on the sea bass?”
“Three minutes, chef.”
“YOU ALL FUCKING HEARD HIM. THREE MINUTES, AND YOU ALL BETTER BE READY!” The man himself, Gordon Ramsay, enters the kitchen with a red face.
“We’ve had three dishes from this kitchen get sent back. Not again. You fucking wankers.”
“Yes, chef!” The Italian men all say the phrase in unison. Secondo jogs back in.
“Hey, hey. Mr. Clean, going for a brisk walk, eh? How about you cook some fucking food, you dick.”
The young woman opens her mouth to defend the shiny-headed man. “I told him to remove Nihil from the kitchen, chef.”
“Oh, come on!”
“He was sleeping, chef.”
Gordon walks out of the kitchen. She looks at Secondo with a nod. Her eyes focus on Perpetua, who has been doing random poses all night.
“Perpetua, where’s my garnish?”
“Coming up to the pass in thirty seconds, chef.” He flips his hair, then does the Nosferatu hand pose.
She shakes her head as Terzo chuckles.
“Lord, give me strength.”
The men give her a satanic pause. They can’t believe their ears.
“Nah, you don’t want to pray to that guy!” Copia says.
“You won’t be praying to anyone if you don’t focus on the food you’re FUCKING BURNING!”
They only met her today, and she has not shied away from the verbal attacks. She’s red in the face, tears forming in her eyes. She continues to expedite while wiping her eyes.
Primo quickly leaves his station, grabbing a paper towel. He walks up to the pass, quietly placing it down for her. He doesn’t say a word as he returns to his station.
She dabs her eyes, and Terzo can’t believe Primo has gotten none of her wrath. Well. He can be nice, too.
“How about I take you to a real Italian restaurant, chef.”
The others stare at him. Copia is pissed that he didn’t think of it first. Secondo seethes that his brother would say it. Now, the woman will surely summon fire and brimstone to the kitchen.
“Oh, so I wouldn’t need to eat your cooking? How sweet. How about we focus on the last ticket!” She can’t believe this. These old geezers have been a thorn in her side side they arrived. The bickering between Copia and Terzo, Copia and Nihil…don’t get her started on Nihil. That man did nothing. Just an extra body in her kitchen.
The men start to bring the food up to the pass, and she quickly checks the quality. It looks good.
“Hallelujah. Service, please.”
The men exchange glances with each other. They know what they must do.
Perpetua clears his throat. “You know, chef, we think you’d—“
“I don’t want to suck any of your dicks, thank you. Clean up.”
The woman may be a lost cause. Conversion may not be possible. Little do they know, she wears a grucifix necklace under her chef jacket.
She’s a huge fan of the Ghost project.