[Tim is cooking dinner for his parents]
(voiceover) Lets not forget: Tim is a head chef.
Fucking hell! [pulls out the croutons for the French onion soup and they are on fire; he blows out the fire and they are scorched] I burned them, yeah.
[laughing] Last thing I said was, "Don't forget your croutons!" He's managed to fuck them over at his Gran's house! [hits his head repeatedly]
Ladies first, this is some French onion soup.
(voiceover) Minus the croutons.
What are we going to do with this numb-fuck?
[Serving Chicken Kiev] Look at that, superb.
(voiceover) Torched on the outside and pink in the middle. As for the lemon meringue pie, he would've gotten a better reception if he threw it at them. Tim's family wouldn't dream of criticising him. But the paying customers on Valentine's night won't be as forgiving.
(to Tim) We've got 44 booked this Saturday night.
Mm-hmm.
And you fucked up for four. What chance have you got for 44? I'm now starting to shit myself.
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