Hell's Kitchen (uncensored)/Season 2

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Hell's Kitchen is an American cooking reality show based on the British program of the same title, where Chef Gordon Ramsay puts aspiring chefs through different challenges and dinner services to decide who is the best.

Episode One [2.01][edit]

Gordon: Jesus!
Rachel: [steps forward] That's mine, chef. (interview) I am proud of being a redneck. I don't have to be the big dog. But, uhh...I'm not going to let anybody run over me.
Gordon: What is that on there?
Rachel: It's a butterfly shrimp and chocolate sauce.
Gordon: Uh, fucking hell. Get me back to London. And what's all the little bits on the uhh...lemon?
Rachel: Uh, that's a chili pepper. I wouldn't eat it if your mouth is on fire, sir.
Gordon: No, sweetheart. My mouth's fucked. It's not on fire, it's fucked.

Gordon: Fuck me. Who is this?
Polly: It's mine. [steps forward]
Gordon: And, uh... first name?
Polly: Polly.
Gordon: How long you've been cooking?
Polly: Most of my life. (interview) I have had six sons, I had them all naturally and if I can endure that, Hell's Kitchen's going to mean nothing for me. I take that back, I meant Fuck's Kitchen.
Gordon: And just explain to me what it is, please.
Polly: Um, it's an undone focaccia bread with a garlic dipping oil.
Gordon: Undone, what does that mean? Undone?
Polly: It means it's not done.
Gordon: Oh, so...half-baked? Focaccia bread? [picks up undone focaccia bread and examines it] Oh, my God. Right now, I'd rather eat poodle shit than put that in my mouth.

Gordon: And whose is this?
Maribel: That's mine, chef.
Gordon: And first name?
Maribel: Maribel.
Gordon: Maribel. What is it?
Maribel: It's a Argentine planton soup.
Gordon: [tastes the soup and spits it out] I'm so sorry. It's garlicky, it's hot, and it looks like baby vomit.
Maribel: (interview) It was a disaster. He spit it out. [pretends to spit] I don't think it's too spicy, I don't think he takes the spice, he's a wimp when it comes to that.

Virginia: It's my coconut and pomegranate root salad.
Gordon: And what's cooked on the plate?
Virginia: Hmmm.... the nuts are toasted.
Gordon: [sarcastically] The nuts are toasted?
Virginia: Yes.
Gordon: Well fuck me! We've toasted nuts for 29 minutes and then grated a coconut! [tastes her food] It's fine. [Virginia smiles] As far as rabbit food goes because it's all raw and crunchy.
Virginia: (interview) I'm really proud of that salad. I know it's a good salad. A rabbit might like it, I–I don't think rabbits like coconut milk.

Tom: [as his signature dish is revealed] It's me. Fuck.
Gordon: Whose is this?
Tom: It's me, chef.
Gordon: Now, um... You're very sweaty. Are you alright?
Tom: I just... I'm a schwetzer. (interview) I sweat. I sweat all the time. I'm a schwetzer! Don't worry about that.
Gordon: What is that?
Tom: It's a shrimp scampi with Caesar salad.
Gordon: It's the first time in my entire life I've been served a cooked Caesar salad.
Tom: I understand that, chef.
Gordon: Sounds disgusting. Let's move the Caesar salad off. Just give me your hands, please.
Tom: [holds hands out] Okay.
Gordon: Thank you. [eats shrimp]
Tom: It's hot!
Gordon: [spits out shrimp into the bin] Tom, fuck off back with your Caesar salad.
Tom: Thank you, chef. (interview) I'm a man, I can take it. It's no big deal, and you know what? If he didn't care, he wouldn't break my chops!

[During prep, Tom is sweating into the boiled tomatoes]
Gordon: Tom!
Tom: Yes, chef?
Gordon: You're sweating in the fucking food! We're in danger of being closed down before we even open. Get it in the bin and start again.

Man: I don't see any pumpkin.
Jean-Philippe: There seems to be a problem here.
Man: There's no pumpkin!
Jean-Philippe: There's no pumpkin?
Woman: There's like these little bits.
Man: I don't want it.
Jean-Philippe: You don't want it? Oh, you finished it almost.
Gordon: Service, please. Pick up!
Man: There's no pumpkin in it!
Jean-Philippe: And?
Man: This is like ordering risotto with no rice!
Gordon: Table one, VIP, yes?
Man: [comes up to the hotplate] Gordon?
Gordon: Let me just serve this table.
Man: Why is there no pumpkin in my risotto?
Gordon: Right, can you get out of the way? One spaghetti, one risotto. Yes?
Man: I want the next pumpkin risotto.
Gordon: Oh? Are you always going to be that rude and interrupt when I'm trying to talk?
Man: I just want more pumpkin, that's all I want.
Gordon: Right, well I'll give you more pumpkin and I'll ram it right up your fucking arse. Would you like it whole or diced? Can we get security and get Knob back to the seat please, yeah?
Man: I just want pumpkin.

Gordon: Okay, four minutes to the window. [notices the stove on fire] Tom, you're on fire!
Tom: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Get a grip, big boy! Four minutes to the window, one risotto, one salad. Four minutes to the window!
[Tom blows on the fire and accidentally spills water over the stove, causing the flames to spread]
Gordon: Oh my God almighty! You're about as far away from your own restaurant as I am from fucking home!
Narrator: Tom's fire has slowed the blue kitchen down. Meanwhile, in the red kitchen, Polly is making her fourth attempt at her first ticket.
Gordon: [to Polly] Madam, this has been open for an hour and a half. We have served fucking zero!
Polly: Yes, chef.
Gordon: I've put more food in the bin tonight than I've ever seen in ten years! Polly, stop what you're doing! You're now the kitchen donkey! Heather, get on the fucking appetizers!
Heather: Yes, chef.
Polly: (interview) From there it just went downhill. Just like nice doesn't always cut it, sometimes your best doesn't always cut it.

Narrator: While Heather tries to relight the fire in the red kitchen, the blue team is flaming out.
Tom: This isn't hot.
Gordon: Tom, the stove is off! [Tom looks at Gordon and says nothing] And, hello?! I'm standing here, and you're there! And I know the fucking thing's off from here!
Tom: (interview) When the water spilled all over, it put out the pilot light. [laughs] That–that's what it was!
Gordon: Tom, if nothing's happening and your pan's stone cold, think, big boy!
Tom: Alright.

[With Polly on appetizers, nothing has come out of the red kitchen in 90 minutes. Heather is now on appetizers and has brought them to the pass.]
Gordon: Service, please.
Sara: Yay!!! [Heather tries to shush Sara] Sorry. Sorry.
Gordon: What's going on?
Heather: Nothing, chef. Nothing, chef.
Gordon: Who's shouting and screaming? Hey, Sara, let me just tell you something. You're not a fucking cheerleader so stop acting like one. Because we have nothing to fucking smile about. And listen, ladies, that has been one hour and forty minutes for four starters. And personally, I wouldn't laugh, or scream, or start wetting your knickers, because that is fucking embarrassing.
Heather: Yes, chef.
Sara: (interview) Nobody deserved to be shouted at. I feel like a little worm on a big fucking hook right now!
Gordon: Just take one good look at yourselves in the mirror, 'cause it's a fucking disgrace!

Gordon: [touches beef wellington brought by Virginia] Virginia, come here a minute! The meat is not cooked. Get it in the bin!
Virginia: Okay.
Maribel: (interview) Virginia, she just freaked out. You know, I wish I would've been on the hot station doing everything with the meats. I couldn't believe that he had me standing there like a big schmuck!
Gordon: Let's go! Two chicken!
Virginia: The wellingtons aren't cooked yet! They're not cooked yet.
Gordon: How long for the wellingtons?
Virginia: I don't know. [to her teammates] They're... It's about six dragging, and... [shrugs] Sorry, you guys! All of them are raw!
Gordon: "It's raw."
Heather: [to Virginia] Put them back in the oven.
Gordon: Virginia, why in the hell did we open?
Virginia: [sighs] I don't know. I'm trying my hardest, I don't know. I'm unprepared, I don't know the menu, I don't know the times. It's just...
Gordon: Twenty-four hours...
Virginia: I know. I'm screwing up!
Gordon: ...to prepare this?! Whatever you got cooked, I don't care if it's not ready! I just want some food now!
Virginia: I don't know what to do! (interview) It was horrible. Like, I'm so discombobulated.
Gordon: Oh, come on. What a disaster.
Virginia: What do you guy think we should do about the sauce?
Rachel: What have you got?
Virginia: I have a whole bunch of lamb stock and... that's all I got.
Maryann: This is veal stock! This isn't lamb stock, this is veal stock. There's no way in fuck we can pass this off as fucking lamb sauce.
Virginia: (interview) I was totally desperate. Desperate enough to go over to the other team and ask them for some lamb stock. [crosses into the blue kitchen and goes over to Giacomo] May I have some lamb stock, please?
Giacomo: I don't think so.
Keith: [laughs] No way! Get out!
Virginia: Please, you guys?
Keith: No way!
Virginia: You guys don't want to share any with me? You guys don't know if you might need something in the future.
Keith: I don't give a fuck.
Virginia: (interview) It was horrible. It was horrible. No matter what I did, something was messed up.
Gordon: We are so fucked, it's unbelievable.

Narrator: Three hours into opening night, customers have received plenty of wine but very little food.
Gordon: Listen to that shit! [to Jean-Philippe] I can't take it anymore. Shut it down. [to both teams] Stop! Turn it off!

Episode Two [2.02][edit]

Gordon: [to the blue team] Okay, listen up, here we go. On order, two covers table 24. Appetizers: one spaghetti, one Salad Saint-Jacques. Entrées: one duck, one chicken. Let's go, all together.
Tom: Would you please repeat it chef?
Gordon: Move your fat arse, and read it yourself, okay?
Tom: Fair enough, chef.
Gordon: Four minutes to the window, one spaghetti, one Salad of Saint-Jacques.
Gabe: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Four minutes?
Gabe: We need two quails, chef, with that?
Gordon: Two quail? Gabe—
Gabe: No, no, I know chef—
Gordon: Sh–shut the fuck up...
Gabe: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Would you MIND not being so rude?!
Gabe: Yes, chef.
Gordon: There's quail nowhere on that ticket!
Gabe: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Just listen!
Gabe: Yes, chef!
Gordon: Concentrate!
Gabe: Yes, chef!
Gordon: Four minutes to the window! One spaghetti of lobster, one scallops!
Gabe: Yes, chef!
Gordon: Now, would you like me to fucking e-mail that to your BlackBerry?
Gabe: No, chef.
Gordon: Move your arse!
Gabe: Yes, chef!

Gordon: Oh, my God almighty! [to Maribel after she spilled the spaghetti] Right now, here's what I suggest you do: buy a restaurant and put one table in there. Any more than that, you'd be fucked!

Gordon: One duck and one chicken!
Tom: I have a duck and a chicken ready for it's sides.
Gordon: [to Giacomo] And taste that. Taste that there. Just taste that. Why has he fried the cabbage?
Scott Leibfried: I don't know chef.
Gordon: It's like glue! Is that what you want to do is to start sneaking things in there?
Giacomo: No chef.
Gordon: So, you agree it tastes like shit.
Giacomo Yes sir, and I still served it.
Gordon: You still served it?
Giacomo: Sorry, chef.
Gordon: Hey, hey, and you want a restaurant in Vegas?
Giacomo: A lot of work to do chef.
Gordon: Hey, why don't you become a hairdresser? Poncing around with women's hair?
Giacomo: Sorry, chef.
Gordon: Now get the cabbage on.

[Gordon sees a plate of busted tortellini sent back to the pass]
Gordon: Look, it's burst.
Maryann: Virginia, please come here!
Gordon: Virginia! VIRGINIA!
Virginia: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Look, one's fucking split and...
Virginia: I know they're all stuck. They're all...
Gordon: They're all stuck together?
Virginia: ...doing that, chef.
Gordon: So it's the tortellini's fault, not yours? In your restaurant, would you serve that?
Virginia: Yes.
Gordon: S–Say that again?!
Virginia: Yes, I would, chef.
Gordon: So that's good enough for you?!
Virginia: Yes!
Gordon: I'm going to ask you one more time! Would you really serve that?!
Virginia: [beat] I'll make some more, chef.
Gordon: I think that's a really sensible idea!
Virginia: (interview) It's not like I put the tortellinis on there broken and fucked up because I manhandled them! I fondled it with care, but, um...of course he's riding me, like he always rides me.

Man: All I want to know is we're going to eat tonight or not.
Gordon: Honestly, for the first time in my fucking cooking career, yeah? I'm in a kitchen with Muppets. Thank you, sir.

[the customers have left Hell's Kitchen]
Gordon: Ladies, just come here. Just stand there and tell what you see in the dining room. [crosses over to the blue kitchen] Hey, you, hello? Gabe. You, [to Tom] Sinbad. Shut it. [to Giacomo] Mop-head, hello? Just come here. Just come here all four of you. Just stand there and tell what you see in the dining room. Right in front of your very own eyes: a death of a restaurant. [cuts to the empty dining room] Pathetic. Shut it down!

Episode Three [2.03][edit]

[In the challenge. The blue team has three dishes while the red team only has two.]
Gordon: So, blue team. Tortellinis, but sadly, no sauce.
Tom: [slouching against the counter] May I speak?
Gordon: No tortellinis...
Tom: May I speak?
Gordon: ...from the red team. [to Tom] May you speak? May you stand up straight and stop acting like a slob?
Tom: Well I'm trying... no, I need to-
Gordon: No no. Cut the fucking bullfuck, will you? Just stand up straight, at least look like a fucking cook!
Tom: Yes, chef.
Gordon: [mocks Tom] Do I slouch and slob and talk like this like some big fat fucking slob?
Tom: (interview; hands on hips like some bimbo) Who do you think you're talking to? He doesn't want to get into a street fight with me. Trust me.

Narrator: A half-hour into dinner service, with the customers enjoying Sara and Keith's appetizers, the teams are off to their best start ever. But the night is young.
Giacomo: Chef Scott, this oven is cold. It's coming out cold.
Scott: What, you're just noticing this now?
Giacomo: No, I noticed it earlier.
Scott: Dude, you don't have the fucking gas on, stupid!
Gordon: Why is the oven not on? Hello, dirt-brain! Why is the oven not on?!
Giacomo: I'm not sure, chef.
Gordon: You're not sure? YOU DONKEY!!
Giacomo: (interview) Sometimes, I do a really good job, and sometimes I don't, and it's tough because I want to make him happy, you know? And it’s really tough to do that.

Gordon: [with a pan of mashed potatoes] Tom, it's two turbot, yeah? There's only enough there for one, Tom.
Tom: We don't have any more mashed potato.
Gordon: Oh, get out of here! You've ran out of mashed potato?
Keith: Where the fuck did all the mashed po-fucking-tatoes go?
Tom: I'm looking for them, chef.
Gordon: How many wellingtons have we sent? We've only served two fucking tables their main course, Keith!
Keith: We prepped them, I don't know where they went. He said he burned them.
Gordon: Have you burnt the potatoes?
Tom: Yes, I did.
Gordon: You've stopped caring now. I can see it in your attitude.
Tom: No, I haven't.
Gordon: Yes, you fucking have. You stopped caring now. What do you care about?
Tom: I care about making an ass of myself right now.
Gordon: Really? Hey, congratulations. Exactly what you're just doing.

Narrator: It's an hour and ten minutes into dinner service, and Sara and Virginia are helping Heather get out the entrées for their fifth table...while the men once again are waiting on...
Gordon: GIACOMO!! [Giacomo ignores Gordon and keeps cooking] Hey, bozo.
Giacomo: Yes, chef?
Gordon: Tell me how pink that duck is.
Giacomo: Not pink at all, chef.
Gordon: Nowhere near it, donkey. Have you got another duck breast in?
Giacomo: Yes, chef!
Gordon: Where?!
Giacomo: Right here, chef!
Gordon: Show me!
Giacomo: [picks up small piece of duck meat from the pan] One...
Gordon: Why are you lying to me now?!
Giacomo: Chef, I–I had one here, and I–I knew I had a half one that'll be cooked enough for you!
Gordon: Why are you lying to me?!
Giacomo: I'm sorry, chef. I didn't mean to lie.
Gordon: You're fucking fuckless, you know that?
Giacomo: (interview) Tonight was one of the worst nights that I've personally ever had in my whole life.
Gordon: Come on. Fucking fuck!

Narrator: Giacomo working the meat station has brought his team to a standstill, and Chef Ramsay to the breaking point.
Gordon: I've had enough. And I'm about to do something I've never ever done in Hell's Kitchen before. I'VE HAD ENOUGH!! [to Giacomo] Giacomo.
Giacomo: Yes, chef.
Gordon: I've had enough, now. I've had enough! We're gonna switch sections! Get off of that section and get on the fish!
Giacomo: Yes, chef!
Gordon: He's put you behind, you need to pull it back now!
Garrett: Yes, chef! You got it, chef!
Keith: (interview) When I got to the meat station, it was just screwed. I don't even know what Giacomo did in there. Everything was overcooked. [to Giacomo] Where are the wellingtons?
Giacomo: I had to throw some away, Keith.
Keith: Where are they?!
Giacomo: They were well-done.
[Tom burns his hand while touching a pan]
Tom: Agh! Oh my God! Ah! Oh, dude.
Giacomo: Tom's really hurting, guys.
Keith: Let me see it. [looks at Tom's hand] Come on, Tom.
Tom: What do you want me to do? Pretend it doesn't hurt?!
Keith: (interview) He got flustered and he burnt his hand, and then that was it. He was just like lackadaisically going...[waves arms around] And then I got mad at him. [to Tom] Just fucking move!
Tom: You fucking buried me!
Keith: You're walking like this! [stretches arms out]
Tom: You fucking buried me, Keith.
Keith: What do you mean? I buried you?!
Tom: You did. [referring to the tomato sauce they ran out of earlier] When Chef asked me to make it, you're like, "What are you doing?"
Keith: I said, "Stop making them!" He gave me the other sauce!
Scott: That's it! That's it!
Tom: After I started!
Keith: I can't take it, bro.

[Gordon checks on wellingtons brought up by Maribel]
Gordon: Oh, come on. Come on. You're maybe there, but this is not fair! Read out the ticket for me for the wellington.
Maribel: Medium.
Gordon: IT'S RARE! Oh, come on! It's the only table that you're doing, Maribel! Christ almighty!
Woman: [to JP] We're going to leave. I don't see my food.
Gordon: [to JP] Is that the table?
Jean-Philippe: It's the two ladies.
Woman: We've waited too long. [exits the restaurant]
Gordon: Missy.
Maribel: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Table has walked out. And the sad thing about it: you've given up so FUCKING easily because you don't give a SHIT! [kicks the bins] SHIT!! [to the red team] Switch everything off, yeah?
Sara: Yes, chef.
[customers are leaving Hell's Kitchen]
Lady: Alright, well thank you.
Man: Yeah, thanks for nothing.
Gordon: Everyone, shut the kitchen down.

Episode Four [2.04][edit]

Gordon: [to Garrett] There's not even an ounce of salt in there. Are you serious? We can't send any food, Garrett... GARRETT... Unless we've tasted anything. If you haven't tasted your own fucking food, what chance have you got!?
Garrett: None.
Gordon: I'd rather fuck off for a burger!

Gordon: Spaghetti's cold, chef. [gives the plate to Garrett] Fucking cold. Hey.
Garrett: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Hey. Do you want to go?
Garrett: No way. No way, chef.
Gordon: Do you want to go?
Garrett: No way, chef.
Gordon: Get me a fucking spaghetti, and move your arse, yeah?
Garrett: Yes, chef.
Gordon: You're back at the institute again, aren't you?
Garrett: No way, chef.
Gordon: Serving that shit.
Garrett: No, chef.
Gordon: No, no. Hey, big boy.
Garrett: Come on. I've got to get this going.
Gordon: Hey. What did I say to you about taste, taste, taste?!
Garrett: Yes, chef. (interview) All that did for me when Chef Ramsay said, "Do you want to go to jail?" was motivate me even more. I'm gonna bust my ass, and I'm gonna prove to you that I belong here.

Gordon: [on Maribel's potatoes] Maribel, what is that?
Maribel: It's mashed potatoes, chef.
Gordon: Tell me why is it gone like glue? Missy, I'd get some fresh ones if I was you.
Maribel: [to her teammates] Do we have any more potatoes, guys?
Gordon: Oh, dear. You know what? If that's the last thing in this country to eat, I'd fucking starve.

Gordon: Service please, where's the wellington?
Tom: It was a little too pink.
Gordon: Oh no, oh come on, it's a little too pink. Keith!
Keith: Four minutes chef.
Gordon: Four minutes to the window, thank you. Tom, do you realize what's going on in here?
Tom: Yes, people are communicating.
Gordon: Yeah that's right, first thing turn around and Chef four minutes to the window. You, [gets in to a chipmunk pose] "A little pink". What fucking line of communication is that on?

Gordon: [to Tom] This order here is 7:35. Hello? Stop! Hey, lis--Stop! Come here, you! You idiot. Now, I've FUCKING HAD ENOUGH! What I'm trying to tell you in your fucking eyeballs that the quail in the spaghetti now and you're putting the quail in.
Tom: No, I have the ones there.
Gordon: THAT'S FOR THAT FUCKING ORDER THERE!!! [pounds the counter; the restaurant falls silent] You're not bothered, are you? It doesn't hurt, does it? [points to his heart]There's nothing here.
Tom: No, it does. I can't yell. I can't cry. All I have to do is, I gotta do it. [Tom's meat pan catches fire]
Gordon: Oh, my God. [Tom blows on the fire and it gets bigger] THE DUCK'S BURNT!! YOU'RE COOKING IN A BURNT PAN, YOU FUCKING DICK!! Oh, my God! Leave it! Leave it! LEAVE IT!! JUST FUCKING LEAVE IT! [places the pan off the burner and the fire goes out] You're going to blow fire in your face, you fucking donkey!! Keith.
Keith: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Get on the meat section, and stay next to him, and don't let him cook a fucking thing! And you (Tom), open those big eyes and watch what the fuck this guy is doing!
Tom: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Shut it and watch!
Tom: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Shut it!!

Tom: I'm waiting on—

[Gordon checks on wellingtons brought up by Virginia]

Gordon: Virginia!
Virginia: Yes, chef?
Gordon: What is that there? What is the wellington requested?
Virginia: Medium.
Gordon: What is that?
Virginia: I thought it was medium, but it's my bad.
Gordon: Here we go again. What is that?
Virginia: I thought it was medium, chef.
Gordon: What is that?!
Virginia: Rare?
Gordon: Rare, that's right gold-star!

Gordon: Missy.
Rachel: Yes, chef?
Gordon: Why are you glazing with butter and not egg wash?
Rachel: It was egg wash, sir.
Gordon: What's that in there?
Rachel: That's egg.
Gordon: Egg yolk or egg white?
Rachel: Egg white.
Gordon: Oh, no. Have they all been glazed all night with egg white?
Rachel: Wrong thing evidently.
Gordon: Oh, no. Why are wellingtons going in now?
Virginia: We ran out, chef.
Gordon: You ran out?
Virginia: Yes.
Gordon: Oh, fuck me... ladies, I personally don't want to do this anymore. [to Rachel] I'm fed up with your shit, [to Maribel] I'm fed up with your shit. (to Virginia) You've been a fucking letdown the minute you started cooking.
Virginia: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Then you LIED to me that the turbot's en route, when she (Sara) hasn't even got it out of the FUCKING fridge! Do you want to continue like this?
Virginia: No, chef.
Gordon: Fuck the lot of you! Is that clear?
Red Team: Yes, chef!
Gordon: Fuck the lot of you!
Rachel: Yes, chef.
Gordon: [pounds the counter] You! Come here, you. [to Keith] Fat fuck. [to Tom] Hey, doughnut. Come here, you. Hey, ladies, come here. Let me tell you something, [takes off his apron and throws it at Tom] Here you go! [throws his towel at Tom] Here you go! I've had enough! I've had ENOUGH! I cannot believe you're actually attempting to fucking win a restaurant! Get back in your fucking dorms, and hello, by the time you get back in here, from the blue team, nominate someone that's going tonight. And from the red team, come back with someone that's leaving. NOW GET OUT! OUT!! LEAVE THE STOVE!!
Lady: I don't think we're getting dessert.

Gordon: Tom's got a big heart. Sadly, he's a really crap cook. Why on earth he's ever decided to attempt to become a chef? I'll never know

Episode Five [2.05][edit]

Narrator: Chef Ramsey is giving the red team some polite words of engorgement.
Gordon: [to the Red Team] Please, please, please, please, please, please, please move your arses!!

[Gordon checks the quail brought up by Rachel]
Gordon: Oh, no. No, no, no. Rachel!
Rachel: Yes, chef?
Gordon: Come here, you. Come here. No, fuck it. All of you, come here right now. [pounds the counter] And eat. Eat that. Eat it. I'm, I'm, I'm--I'm dying to understand what's going through your FUCKING MIND! Now, what do you think of the quail?
Sara: It's overcooked. Little too much production on the sauce chef and you can see bones.
Gordon: What's your verdict?
Maribel: It's dry and tastes a little burned.
Gordon: Yeah, it's shit! A little burned?! Fuck me! Do you need some glasses? (to Jean-Philippe) Ask one of the customers for his fucking glasses. There, table seven, he's got them (to Rachel) And what's in it for you?
Rachel: It's overcooked.
Gordon: Pssss...fuck off will you?
Virginia: All right, let's do it again guys, come on. [Jean-Philippe returns with a pair of glasses]
Gordon: There they are. There's the gentleman's glasses. I'm serious now! Does anyone need a pair of glasses? Fuck off, Jean-Philippe. Did you really think I was going to go out there with the quail, burned to a cinder? (Rachel doesn't answer) Did you really think I was going to send that? I need to know in your mind. Did you actually think I was going to serve that? (still no answer) Come here, you, come here. [leads Rachel into the pantry] What the fuck are you doing? Do you want to go home?
Rachel: Ahem.
Gordon: No, no, tell me now!
Rachel: I will not let you down tonight.
Gordon: You already have! I want to pull it back!
Rachel: I will get you through entrées.
Gordon: I know damn well you can do it. I can see it in your eyes. I can identify with the hunger but right now, missy, there's just a blonde empty fucking head.
Rachel: I won't let you down.
Gordon: Get it together, communicate, open up and start talking to me. Now move!
Rachel: Yes, chef.

Gordon: This is your time now to step up and get your team together.
Keith: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Those two, yeah? Are cooking like donkeys. Come on! Donkey's Kitchen, should we change the fucking logo? D.K.?
Garrett: No, chef.

Gordon: Where's the cabbage? Come on, Garrett! Keith and Garrett! You just got all quiet! NONE OF YOU ARE WORKING AS A TEAM! Where's the lamb SAUCE?!
Heather: Come on, man!
Garrett: Just need a fuckin' minute—
Heather: Right here, chef.
Garrett: Lamb sauce is coming up.
Gordon: There's just nothing coming together!
Garrett: Right here, chef.
Gordon: Thank you very much.
Garrett: Not a problem, chef.
Gordon: Oh, fuck off you, you fat useless sack of fucking yankee-danky-doodle shite. Fuck off will you please, yeah?

[Gordon checks on wellingtons brought up by Rachel]
Gordon: [to Maryann] How's it cooked?
Maryann: It was cold.
Gordon: Uhm, Rachel, come here.
Rachel: Yes, chef?
Gordon: Just touch that. What's the lamb?
Rachel: It's well done.
Gordon: It's requested pink. That's cooked to fuck! [pounds the counter] It's barely edible!! [sits down] Aw, for God's sake!
Rachel: Rachel, this is pitiful. Rachel, you suck.
Gordon: [to Rachel] Stop right there. I'm going to put you out of your misery. Switch it off. [crosses over to the blue kitchen] Just stop. Shut it down!
Heather: Yes, chef.

Narrator: Although dinner service is finished, Chef Ramsay is not finished with one of the chefs.
Gordon: [to Keith] You've got that spoiled brat syndrome. That huffy-puffy, turn your eyes, fold your arms and not even look at me in the eyes.
Keith: I didn't mean that, chef.
Gordon: Deep down inside, you've got a big amount of talent there, you know that? My biggest problem is no one's noticed it properly. Has anyone ever actually told you how good you could be?
Keith: No, chef.
Gordon: You can cook, big man, you know that? The first hour and a half of service, you were running it. Then you made one stupid mistake.
Keith: Yes, chef.
Gordon: The quicker you get rid of the attitude... you're going to shine.
Keith: Yes, chef.

Episode Six [2.06][edit]

Heather: (referring to herself, Keith and Garrett) We're going to be the final three.

[While unloading ice from a truck]
Keith: Heather is one tough bitch!
Heather: I'm the toughest bitch there is.

Heather: I was sweating like Tom today.

[Gordon and the red team enter Nick & Stef's Steakhouse]
Gordon: So this place is renowned for its steaks.
Narrator: Now the red team has moved onto entrées at another Hollywood hot spot.
Maribel: Nice and private, very nice.
Narrator: And Virginia has an important question for the owner...
Virginia: What's the one key thing that you can honestly say? I'm saying like right when you think of it. What can you tell me here right now? I'm saying like...
Narrator: ...if only she could ask it.
Virginia: ...What have you learned now that you did then when you opened up a place?
Joachim Splichal: You need consistency. That's it. Consistency.
Virginia: I just find it very, I love the fact that you grew so quickly. I mean that's so...
Sara: (interview) We were like "Shut up! Shut up!" At what point is Virginia not fake?
Virginia: ...so on and so forth. But, you know anyway...
Maribel: (interview) "Blah. blah. blah. Yadda. Yadda." Virginia, she annoys me.

[The chefs meet in front of Chef Ramsay]
Gordon: Garrett, yesterday when I went out with the girls, you... gave me this. (the finger) Right now big boy, you've got nothing to be brash, cocky or show such attitude over. Do you want to go?
Garrett: No.
Gordon: I never, ever want to see this in front of my face again. Let's get that clear.

[Gordon checks on sashimi brought up by Virginia]
Gordon: Virginia!
Virginia: Yes, chef?
Gordon: Look what you're sending me. Come here you. It's just... It's just getting thicker and thicker and thicker.
Virginia and Sara: Alright.
Gordon: It's just fish sliced.
Virginia: Yes, chef.
Gordon: That's what it is! It's raw fish! It's fucking sliced! We still can't get that out!

[Gordon checks on duck salad brought up by Garrett]
Gordon: What in the fuck is that? What is this?! Get me a duck salad now!
Garrett: [takes the plate back] I got another one on the way chef.
Gordon: Why did you serve me that? We're doing so well?! (to Keith) Keith, if there's a time you need to get a grip for your team, it's right now!

Narrator: The red team has moved on to entrées and Sara has brought her lamb...
[Sara delivers her lamb to the pass, Gordon checks it]
Gordon: What's that?
Narrator: ...to the slaughter.
Gordon: What the fuck is that? Missy (Sara), Just what are you doing with the lamb?
Sara: I'm learning, chef.
Gordon: You're learning?
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: What do you mean you're learning?
[flashback to when the red team creates their own menu]
Gordon: Sara! What is going on? Are you... fucking blind?
Sara: No, chef.
Gordon: What is that? In your-- What are-- I don't know what the fuck you're doing!
Sara: Me neither, chef.
Gordon: That is not going anywhere, missy!
Sara: Okay.
Gordon: Except in the fucking bin!!

[Gordon asks for Sara's lamb in the red kitchen]
Gordon: Where is the lamb?
Sara: It's working, chef.
Gordon: I'm about to send the third table of entrées from the blue team and I still haven't got the lamb out from the red team!
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Now it's turning into a fucking big embarrassment!
Sara: Yes, chef!
Gordon: And I'm going to kick you out any minute now, unless you get me a fucking lamb!!
Sara: Yes, chef!

Gordon: Sara! Come here, missy!
Sara: Yes, chef?
Gordon: I don't know if you're colour-blind or you've got a problem with your fucking contact lenses, that is blood. Look, it's blood! They want it medium, it's still fucking rare! [pounds the counter]
Sara: Yes, chef!
Gordon: There's blood everywhere! We still haven't sent an entrée from the red team.
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: (to Jean-Philippe at the pass) Take the lamb off the menu. Stop it! I don't give a flying FUCK! (to Sara) You! Don't DARE cook any more lamb: Jean-Philippe has taken so much flak on the back of your inconsistency!
Sara: Hmm.

Gordon: If you're going to grill a salmon Sara, you don't tie it and fucking stuff it together. That is the third dish from the red team that is totally impractical. Can we just cut the salmon into a slice without fucking around?
Sara: Yeah. Consistency?
Gordon: Don't fucking dare! Don't fucking dare!! Missy, missy, come here you fat mouthed little stupid bitch!
Sara: Yes, chef?
Gordon: You're pissing around with something that's not working! Has that fucking clicked?
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: IT'S FUCKING RARE!! Just stop! [calls the blue team who have just completed their service] Blue team, come here! All of you! I'm so fucking determined to have a successful completed service. I've got 11 tables waiting for main courses from the red team! You (the blue team) get on the sections and work together!
Sara: Thank you, chef.
Gordon: I personally don't want to stick around for pretty more shit. [exits the kitchen in disgust] A fucking embarrassment.

Episode Seven [2.07][edit]

Heather: You've got to watch your scallops.
Sara: Thank you, Heather. I've got it.
Gordon: Missy.
Sara: Yes, chef?
Gordon: If you sauté scallops in a non-stick pan, they won't stick. That's why it's called FUCKING NON-STIIIICK!!! [Gordon's voice goes falsetto on the "STICK"] I don't know what non-stick means in Texas, sweetheart, but fuck me!
Sara: Yes, chef!

Narrator: Hoping to satisfy Chef Ramsay, Garrett rushes his chicken to the pass.
Gordon: Garrett, the chicken is raw!
Garrett: Yes, chef.
Gordon: You're going to kill someone!
Narrator: Garrett has just brought a dish to the pass that is not only inedible but downright dangerous.
Gordon: You knew it's raw!
Garrett: I'm doing it because it's faster chef. It's the only reason.
Gordon: Faster?! You've always got a fucking answer for everything!
Garrett: I'm just trying to--

[A woman comes up to the hotplate demanding for food]

Lady: Excuse me, Mr. Ramsay.
Gordon: Yeah, just wait I'll be thirty seconds right now.
Lady: Uh... Excuse me.
Gordon: I just asked for thirty seconds, will you just be so kind, I'm in the middle of serving a table. Service!
Lady: How long do you think it might be?
Gordon: Would you mind taking your breasts off my hotplate? Look at that. How will I serve food with those fucking things there?
Lady: Oh what the fuck, you?! [flips a plate full of food on the tray; angrily pushes the tray; leaves the restaurant]
Gordon: Security, please!

Gordon: [to Sara] Hey, Missy. How many scallops are you serving per portion?
Sara: Five each.
Gordon: Are they small, big, or massive?
Sara: Well, they're medium.
Gordon: They're medium? Missy, [in a fast tone; gives her a towel] clean your fucking glasses, I'll ask you quickly, yeah? Yeah, let's do it this way. CLEAN YOUR FUCKING GLASSES!!
Sara: Alright, chef. [wipes her glasses]
Gordon: There you go. What are they?!
Sara: They are large scallops, chef. (interview) I'm like, "What are you saying?!"
Gordon: So what I'm trying to suggest is serve four.
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Okay? Because they're massive! Hello. Wakey-wakey, yes?
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Four scallops!
Sara: Yes, chef!
Gordon: Fuck me!

Gordon: Carrots!
Garrett: Yes, chef!
Gordon: "Carrots" I said, not "Garrett".

[Gordon checks on salmon brought up by Garrett]

Gordon: Look at that salmon. Is that the best piece of salmon? (Garrett doesn't answer) I'VE ASKED IS THAT THE BEST SALMON?!
Garrett: Yes, chef.
Gordon: It's chewed and buckled and... What have you done to it? (to Garrett) Mister, get a grip! I can't take it anymore!

Gordon: Virginia, what are you doing?
Virginia: I'm plating, I'm getting the tortellini, chef.
Gordon: There's not a tortellini on the order.
Virginia: But there's tortellini, chef.
Gordon: Listen, you stupid fucking fat-mouth bitch! Bring me your ticket here, bring it here! And read it out-- Come here!
Virginia: You're right, chef.
Gordon: Now, will you fucking SHUT UP! [throws the ticket at the counter] YOU JUST TALK CRAP! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! [repeatedly pounds the counter]

[Jean-Philippe is speaking with a twelve-top of swimsuit models]

Gordon: Where's that Belgian?
Jean-Philippe: I would like to sit around with you, and stay with you, but I can't. [backs to the pass] Chef!
Gordon: What are you trying to do, lose your virginity? [Jean-Philippe takes a look at Gordon, then returns to his station]

Episode Eight [2.08][edit]

Gordon: Let's go, three salmon, one turbot.
Sara: Heather?
Heather: What?
Sara: Is there any salmon left in the house?
Gordon: What's going on? What's going on?
Sara: Chef, I—
Gordon: What? Come here you! Tell me! I'm the fucking chef!!
Sara: Yes, chef. I don't have enough salmon to get through the night.
Gordon: You're not serious, are you?
Sara: I am serious, chef.
Gordon: Hey, I'd fuck off and go and buy some if I were you.
Sara: May I substitute using turbot?
Gordon: Why don't you check with the maître d'? Can we serve turbot in place of the salmon?
Jean-Phillippe: On which table?
Gordon: Table 20. Please? Thank you. [to Sara] Hey, you, fuck off, will you? You useless cow.
Sara: Turbot's in here. Sorry, chef.
Gordon: You know, missy, you're finished aren't you?
Sara: No, chef, come on!
Gordon: Hey, what do you mean, "come on?" I want you to come on! I want you to wake up!
Sara: Chef, I told you and they're resolving it now and all I can do is give you the turbot. I have the salmon in the fridge and there's only two!
Gordon: That's right! And whose fucking fault was it?! Don't get fucking upset with me in my fucking kitchen when you're standing there sulking because you fucked the salmon!
Sara: I'm not sulking, chef.
Gordon: Yeah, you're finished. Heather, get on the fish please and do something for her, yeah?
Sara: No, chef.
Gordon: So wake up and get it back together!
Sara: I don't need to be replaced, chef!
Gordon: Then tell her then.
Sara: I don't need to be replaced.
Gordon: There you go.
Sara: (interview) I screwed up one fucking table with one fucking salmon. I wasn't beat. Don't get up all about my crotch about shit.

Heather: Two minutes to the hotplate!! YES?!
Virginia: Yes!
Sara: Yes. Slow it down, Heather.
Gordon: [to Sara] Hey, Sara!
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Hey, listen, you stupid cow!
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: "Slow it down?!" Hey, missy! Come here, you!
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: How many tables are left on the hotplate?
Sara: Ten.
Gordon: And you've got the nerve to tell her (Heather) to slow down?!
Sara: Yes, chef. Sorry.
Gordon: Yeah.
Sara: I'll apologize.
Gordon: Fucking right! [points at Heather] Apologize to her!
Sara: Heather, I'm sorry!
Gordon: Hey, missy! Say it as if you mean it!
Sara: Heather.
Heather: Yeah?
Sara: I'm sorry.
Gordon: Next you'll be asking to pluck my eyebrows! Or shave my fucking ninny!

Heather: [to Sara] Are you going with three salmon?!
Sara: Yeah! Whenever you're ready...
Heather: Right now! Can you go right now?!
Sara: Yes!
Virginia: I can't! I can't you guys!
Heather: Jesus!
Gordon: Oh my God!
Virginia: Either someone help me or just slow it down! Please!
Gordon: Heather.
Heather: Yes, chef!
Gordon: Now, she's (Virginia) screwing you. Hey!
Virginia: I need a couple minutes on the cabbage. I just burned the cabbage.
Gordon: "I've just burned the cabbage?"
Virginia: Yes, chef! I burned the cabbage, chef!
Gordon: Heather!
Heather: Yes, chef!
Gordon: She's burned the cabbage!
Virginia: I just burned the cabbage!
Gordon: TAKE YOUR MEATS BACK! [as Heather runs back to the pass] Oh my God. [to Virginia] Hey, Virginia.
Virginia: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Look at me. I mean it! Hey, missy!
Virginia: Yes, chef!
Gordon: You're no longer safe!
Heather: (interview) Virginia's no longer safe. And I was like, [mimicking an angelic choir] "Hahh!" There is a God!

[Virginia and Sara are nominated for elimination]
Gordon: Virginia, you won the challenge. I guaranteed you a place in the final three. If you want to go, that is your choice. If you decide to stay, I'll send Sara home.
Virginia: I understand what you're telling me that I want to be in the final three because I deserve to be in the final three, not because you're a man of your word. Not because of a freakin' challenge. I want to be there because I deserve to be.
Gordon: I can't help you anymore. This is entirely your decision.
Sara: Can I ask a question, chef?
Gordon: Shut the fuck up for thirty seconds. Virginia, come back to me with your final decision.
Virginia: Well... [pause] Hell no, I don't wanna go! Of course I don't wanna go! I wanna freaking stay!
[Heather and Keith snicker and exchange surprised looks]
Virginia: You wanna know why? Because I fucking want to. [chuckles] That's why.
Gordon: Virginia.
Virginia: Yes, chef.
Gordon: I respect your decision. Sara.
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Take off your jacket...
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: ...and leave Hell's Kitchen. And listen, you worked hard. I appreciate that. I think you know deep down inside, you can do it.
Sara: Yes, chef.
Gordon: Give me your jacket, please.
Sara: Yes, chef. [walks up to Gordon, who kisses her cheek] As they say in Texas... kiss my grits, chef!
Gordon: Your grits?
Sara: Kiss my grits!
Gordon: Good night, sweetheart.
Sara: Thanks! (interview) I can't be angry at Virginia. It's been one hell of a trip. I came here thinking that I had the potential to win the prize, and I’m worried that maybe I'm just really not good enough to do great things.

Gordon: Sara's not good enough as a cook. She made so many simple mistakes, she definitely didn't merit her own restaurant. Hello sweetheart, kiss my grits.

Episode Nine [2.09][edit]

[Virginia and Keith are nominated for elimination while Heather is advancing to the final round]
Gordon: This... is quite possibly the toughest decision I've had to make. The person leaving Hell's Kitchen tonight and will not be advancing to the final two is... [beat] Keith. What I am looking for is a leader. And personally big boy, you're not ready. Give me your jacket.
Keith: [gives Gordon his jacket] So you're saying that Virginia's a better leader than me? I've been leading the whole thing. Even whatever station I was on, I was leading the line throughout whatever team I was on. The whole time, with people who didn't know anything.
Gordon: I personally don't think you're ready to lead.
Keith: I personally think that you have a hard-on for Virginia. [Gordon looks shocked] Yeah.
Gordon: Why do you have to be so fucking rude?
Keith: 'Cause you're rude to me all the time.
Gordon: So? [pause] Now, I definitely know I've made the right decision. So your attitude does stink.
[Keith hugs Heather on his way out of the kitchen, ignoring Virginia completely]
Keith: (interview) I definitely deserve my own restaurant. The whole time I've been here, I did nothing but kill it! He doesn’t like my personality, so fuck him, because I cook better than all those bitches!
Gordon: (interview) You got two choices. You run the team or the team runs you. And sadly, the team ran Keith. If Keith could only lose the attitude underneath all that, there's one talented, talented cook.
Keith: (interview) He didn't like my personality, he didn’t like K-Grease, I tried to hide him but he fucking got out! So it's bullshit!

Episode Ten [2.10] (Two Hour Finale)[edit]

Gordon: Heather won Hell's Kitchen because of her determination. She stuck to what she knew best and she controlled her kitchen from start to finish. Heather clearly has great leadership qualities and this, for a 25-year old cook, is a phenomenon. This woman is going to be a big success. My work is done, it's been a phenomenal journey, I'm ready for the next challenge and fuck you all.