Where's the wellington? How long?
[comes up to Gordon] My wellingtons are going to be overdone.
Oh, for fuck's sake! Oh, come on!!
[cuts to the dining room]
I'm not waiting another minute for my main course.
Seventeen (wellingtons) on order and you've got three to send. We're fourteen short!
(to a female diner) You don't want to stay a bit longer?
Uhm, no.
[the customers have begun leaving. Jean-Philippe returns to the pass]
Chef, they are all walking out. To the left and 12, 14, from both sides, chef.
(to the red team) Stop. (calls the blue team) Come here. Hey, hello, chef (Josh), sabotage. Your tables are now getting up and leaving. Fuck off, will you, yeah? [gets the tickets from the pass, crumples them and throws them away] Get out. GET OUT!
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