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@kingsmancaterer

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Gordon Ramsay asks Alex James the thing weâve all been wondering

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oxfordnotbrogues:
kingsmancaterer:
Chef looks up. Sees Harry. âAre you fucking kidding me?â
@oxfordnotbrogues
âAfraid not,â Harry said, âHow are you, Chef?âÂ
âWell, Iâm not surprised you always a stubborn fuckinâ bastard.â he scoffs. âBloody fuckinâ pissed that fuckinâ slag blew up headquarters.... I fuckinâ loved that kitchen, had everything perfectly the way I wanted it....â
scottishtech:
âFrom ma recollection Ah dinnae stutter.â Merlin responds in his normal no-nonsense trainer voice even if deep down he does have a tinge of fear when it comes to the chef. âAh am tellinâ ye it is a dishonor tae the whisky tae use it fer cookinâ when itâs a 20 year old bottle.â Even so he smirks at the slight threat of being smacked with a spoon. Letting the bottle go he shakes his head at being called a berk before spotting the shortbread and making his way over. âYe know yer a rude bastart.â
âThat isnât from your bloody collection.â he folds his arm and sets the bottle aside. âWere you bloody concussed too mate?â he leans back against the counter. âAh yes, I have been told that, but since I seem to do my job bloody well, and I survived an explosion, I think Iâm here to stay.â
stateswhiskey:
kingsmancaterer:
And Chef stares right back. Oh no. No no no no. Chef was a very angry man. He liked doing his work with little interruption and little idiocy. âWhat the fuck is that?â he motions towards the âsandwichâ on the counter.
ââŚThey ainât got sandwiches here in England?â He asks, still slowly chewing before swallowing.
âOh I make sandwiches, that...â he points. âLooks like garbage....â he walks over and looks at it, nose wrinkling. He shoos Whiskey from the sandwich and inspects it. âOh fuck this...â he takes the sandwich and throws it in the trash. âWait right there.â he points at Whiskey. He begins to move about the kitchen, grabbing various ingredients. Give it about five minutes and he turns around and holds out a plate. âThere....âÂ
The sandwich is made with ciabatta with grated fontina, thinly sliced prosciutto, sliced figs, and arugula.Â

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âWatch it pornstache.â he points. âAnd I do a job here, I didn't survive a bloody explosion to not work anymore.â
kingsmanpelleas-gaheris:
âI mean, thats who you are though, the chef yeah?â She said with a shrug, âIâm perfectly capable of cooking my own food anyway. Would you like some Oliver type thing? Please sir may I have some food?â She asked as she put on her best English accent
Chef just glares at her. âNot in my bloody kitchen while I am around.â he folds his arms. âNow what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?â
kingsmanpelleas-gaheris:
âI mean, youâre the caterer guy right? And this is the kitchen. Itâs hardly some sherlock holmes level mystery what I want,â Deryn said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes
âDid you just call me the caterer guy?â he looks at the small woman pointedly. Chef looks over at her. âYou keep up that fuckinâ attitude and I wonât be doinâ a bloody fuckinâ thing for you.â
âWhat the bloody fuck do you want?â
@kingsmanpelleas-gaheris
âYou bother me too much boy and I swear to christ Iâll put you down my self and Iâll fuckinâ make you into a bloody fuckinâ pie.â
@charleshesketh

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bulldog-innit:
Eggsy stopped in his tracks, tilting his head in confusion. He squinted at the man, putting his pockets in his trackies. ââScuse me, bruv? But what makes you fink Iâm cravinâ garbage? Just âcause I look like a pleb donât mean I eat like one.âÂ
He scoffed, taking another step into the kitchen, throwing caution to the wind, and honestly⌠knowing better.
âOh fuck off, it ainât got nothinâ to do with what I think you look like, itâs got everything to do with your age, all you kids eat garbage food.â he hisses. And then the other step comes and boy is the look on Chefâs face is MURDEROUS.
agentjackwhiskey:
âWhatân the hell did you just call me? Whatâs a fuck donut supposed to be?â
âYou, you fuckinâ twit.â he puts his hands on his hips. âNow why are you here?â