The Dark Lord, and the Desperate Attention-seeking Wizard Wannabes

“Cue Parental Warning.”

“Cue Mist and Full Moon Rising.”

“Cue Harry Potter music. Dim lights.”

“Cue Spooky Narrator”

Before the next series can begin viewers must be reminded of the horrors that have gone before in this, the lair of Lord Voldemort. The screams of pain. The deaths. The tears. Pictures of the Tri-Wizard Champions of old…

The beast awakens. “Cue lights. Cue fire.”

“Wait! Where’s the snake? Where’s Nagini?” *pause* “This isn’t Harry Potter, is it. This is Hell’s Kitchen!”

“Shoot. I wanted to direct a season of Harry Potter.” *pout*

Oh, well. Not much difference. So, we get Ramsay instead of Voldemort. Look on the bright side. Ramsay gets to use language that Voldy could only dream of when his minions screw up. Besides, it’s still a school. We’re still dealing with potions classes. There will still be a boy, or girl, who manages to defeat the Lord of Darkness and win the rank of Wizard and the prize – except in this case the prize is being allowed to sell their soul to the Lord in exchange for toiling under His tutelage in servitude. And, before we get to that point, we’ll still get to see the unworthy cast from the fold, scarred for life.

So, let’s see what lessons lay in store for our little Wizard wannabes this year.

Lesson #1: The BS Spell and the Spell of Transfiguration: How Not To Be A Total Fool

Our DAWWs (Deperate Attention-seeking Wizard Wannabes) are on their way to Hell. Hell’s transportation is a limousine, which has been enchanted using the BS Spell. This is a very useful little spell, particularly in this age of high gas prices. It causes the riders to expel large quantities of hot air in the form of boasts and BS pronouncements, which is then converted to fuel for the conveyance so enchanted.

Since this is a rather large vehicle it’s going to require occasional reapplications of the spell while en-route. As the success of the spell requires that the occupants supplying the BS are unaware of their enchantment, our Dark Lord decides to ride along after undergoing the Transfiguration Spell, which causes him to take on the physical characteristics of Ozzy Osbourne. He fits right in.

Craig, who seems to have forgotten the prohibition banning the wearing of Wizarding wear in the presence of Muggles, opens his mouth first. He wishes everyone enough luck to fail. He’s blatantly out to F*** everyone else. Nice guy. Since his stovepipe hat is designed to release hot air into the atmosphere the limo picks up some speed. Well, at least he’s good for something.

Other DAWWs laugh at him, telling him he’s gonna be in trouble for breaking Wizard wear protocol. He says that he’ll willingly turn his wizard’s hat over to the Dark Lord for safekeeping. He’s sure the DL will give it back to him when he wins. This causes Ozzy a twinge in his neck as his head violently snaps in his direction.

Bobby picks up a whiff of the BS Spell and spouts that he’s “The Black Gordon Ramsay”. These others are nothing to him. He can eliminate them all with one flick of his wand. He announces that the Dark Lord is the President and that he’s the Four-Star General. Oops. That burst of BS is almost too much. Ozzy almost gives himself away early as he peers over his glasses at the upstart and tries to contain an involuntary expletive. He has to look out the window to regain his composure and maintain his transfiguration.

Thankfully, that burst of BS was quite enough to power the limo onto the gates of Hell all by itself. Our DAWWs skip in, bubbling with excitement over how nice Hell looks. They are greeted by Housemaster, Jean-Phillipe, who decides to start off by having a bit of fun at his Master’s expense. He announces that he’s capable of channeling the Dark Lord and does a passable imitation of Ramsay screaming out orders and dumping a plate of overcooked whatever. Our DAWWs laugh and clap.

Not one of them thinks it unusual that a minion would ridicule the DL in his own lair. Not one of them thinks it unusual that they would be asked to follow suit. Jean-Phillipe calls on two of them to try their hand at it before calling upon Ozzy. Unease sets in as he steps out of line to comply. His transfiguration is good. So good that the Black Gordon Ramsay doesn’t recognize himself. But, as he continues, consternation grows in others as the veil of ignorance starts to lift and they begin to see him as he really is.

Screams of delight turn to wails of desperation in the confessional booth as they begin to understand they have failed their first test. They have been spouting off in the presence of the Dark Lord, himself. They have made fools of themselves. Unsurprising, really. They could try to excuse themselves because they were bespelled, but, the reality is they were born fools. They can’t help it – they’ve had years of practice. The whole point of this school is to break them of the habit. All they can hope for now is to get extra-credit in order to raise their grades. Extra-credit in the form of a passably edible signature dish.

Lesson #2: The Spell of Edibility: Making a Statement with a Signature Dish

Signature dishes are something to be proud of. They’re what you’re know for. It’s the one dish that, when you’re invited to a potluck, everyone insists you must bring. You know it inside out in all it’s variations. You’ve made it so often you can do it with your eyes closed. This is, or should be, the one class everyone is guaranteed to get an “A”. Easy extra-credit, right? The starting point from which you launch yourself and soar into the skies of success… Or, crash and burn in the mountain’s foothills. Which will it be for our DAWWs? Have they mastered the Spell of Edibility? Grading is easy. We’ll use the Potluck Request Score (PRS).

The Dark Lord tells them what they should already know: A Chef’s Signature Dish should tell everyone exactly who they are. From our brief glances at their preparation in the kitchen we, the viewers, are starting to figure that out without the need to taste their dishes - thankfully. They’re a mess. Unfortunately, Ramsay’s not going to get off that easily. He has to taste the stuff. It’s in his contract.

First up, Sous-Chef Craig – he of the inappropriate Wizarding wear. He explains that he wears the hat because he’s vertically challenged. Too bad all it does is call attention to that fact. It’s taller than his head, neck, and shoulders, combined. He has a jerk-seasoned Sea Bass over Rum-raisin Risotto. It’s sweet. It’s crap. Oh, and if he wears his Wizard wear into the kitchen again, Ramsay’s gonna ram it in sideways and see if it’s taller than his hips are wide. It is. Poor Craig. He feels naked without his wizard’s hat. *cue tiny violin* PRS: F

Next, Line Cook Jen. She’s passionate. She likes to toot her own horn. I suspect she cooks a lot of beans. Oops. She’s not a line cook any longer. She’s been promoted to Garde-Manger Chef. She does fruit, watermelon carving… In other words, she’s a Chef that doesn’t cook anything. She tries to charm the Dark Lord by offering to immortalize him in watermelon. No kidding. For her next trick she offers a Dungeness Crab in Corn Risotto with Lobster tail. Gordon takes a bite and violates Emily Post’s rules of etiquette by removing it from his mouth the moment it hits his tongue. Doesn’t he know that food should be removed using the same implement used to convey it? Well, to be fair, he probably does. He just doesn’t care. He wants it out of his mouth, fast. The rice is raw and she has confirmed her role in the kitchen as a non-cooking chef. For her part, she thinks the Dark Lord is a “butt-head”. She declares that he has no idea what he’s talking about and, in a challenge, says he has no idea who he’s talking to. She wrong, of course. He, and we, know exactly who he’s talking to – a “Chef” who can’t cook. PRS: F

Private Chef Corey steps up to the plate. She has succeeded in at least one aspect of her Signature Dish. It tells the DL exactly about her. It’s simple, plain, blonde, and boring. It looks like a salad. PRS: F

Sous-Chef Jason offers something that looks like a fish steak served with asparagus and some kind of mushroom (canned) carrot (or something orange) comfit. Ramsay declares it worse than tinned food. PRS: F

Caterer Shayna doesn’t even get her’s tasted. She evidently went too deep into the fires of Hell and burned it to a crisp. PRS: F

Sous-Chef Matt declares that he’s a true culinarian and he knows what the Dark Lord is looking for. Unfortunately, he thinks he’s looking for a good emetic – which, at this point, might be true. He constructed something he calls “Exotic Tartare”. It contains o diver scallops, caviar, capers, and white chocolate. Ramsay starts looking around for Ashton Kutcher. He repeats the ingredients in disbelief and Matt confirms that he heard correctly. He asks if Matt smokes – he doesn’t mean cigarettes. Unbelievably, Matt may be right about the emetic. As the rest of the DAWWs cover their eyes in horror, Gordon actually takes a bite of this concoction. And, it works! He tries valiantly to swallow, fails, and Emily Post goes out the window while Gordon blows chunks uncontrollably into the garbage pail. Matt looks dejected while all the other DAWWs react with glee as they realize that their grades just got raised by at least 2 points. Poor, clueless, Matt is boggled. He’s confused about exactly what in the dish the Dark Lord didn’t like. Please, Matt. Do us a favor and ask him. It’s the quickest way to get you off of our television sets sooner, rather than later. And, trust me on this. You will be leaving. PRS Matt: F-, PRS Everybody that’s gone before: C

After an extended commercial break, during which time Gordon got his stomach pumped, we reassemble to continue this travesty.

Mr. Mom, Dominic steps forward to claim the next dish. He cooks for kids and presumably they eat it, so how bad can it be? He’s serving Chicken Cacciatore with Roasted Orzo. Ramsay’s only quibble is that he expected something more exciting in 45 minutes. That’s pretty tame so let’s give Dom the benefit of the doubt on taste. At least he could keep it down, which Dom sees as a positive. PRS: B

Rosann, a Receptionist and Former Cook who’s already been through hell living with the father of her children, offers what looks like a soup. In a surprise twist it’s actually supposed to be a soup. Spicy Mussel Soup, to be exact. Gordon pronounces it “not too bad”. He says it’s seasoned perfectly. This earns Rosann the first grade that doesn’t need to benefit from the Bell Curve established by Matt’s dish. PRS: A

Gordon’s starting to feel better. At least he was until he lifts the next cover to find a pumpkin staring at him. Catering Director Petrozza is responsible for this one. He says he has no specialty, he can cook anything. This dish proves he’s right. He’s honest, too. He didn’t claim that the anythings he cooks are any good. This anything proves to be a pumpkin into which he’s jammed a Cornish Hen and served on a bed of grease that Gordon is able to recognize as shredded potatoes. As Ramsay picks up a handful of the potatoes and the grease runs – not drips – runs down his arm and onto the plate, Petrozza admits there’s “some butter in there”. No, really? Just a bit, mind you. Gordon lifts the lid of the pumpkin to discover – a mess. For the first time ever he’s unable to figure out how anyone is supposed to eat it. Petrozza tells him that it’s meant to be plated tableside and Gordon lets him go for it. “Plating” it means cutting the pumpkin in half and scooping the entire hen onto another plate. At least he says it’s a hen. It looks rather like a large, brown, croquette ball covered in slime. Methinks there’s a “bit” of butter in there, too. Along with all of the rendered chicken fat. He calls it “Hen in a Pumpkin”. Gordon suggests that perhaps Petrozza’s head would be a better addition than the hen. Somehow, even baked in a pumpkin with extra grease, the hen is dry. Worse, the pumpkin is totally without any seasoning. Not even Matt can completely save this one, but, being delusional, Petrozza thinks he delivered on the dish. Ramsay said he wanted something “memorable”, and his dish was nothing but memorable. Yes, it was that. I said he was honest. Delusional, but honest. PRS: D

Room Service Chef, Sharon can’t deliver – not even in her 6” heels. PRS: C

Electrician/Former Chef, Ben gains a PRS: B, and Culinary Student Christina gets points for concept and earns a non-Matt influenced PRS: C. Hotel Cook Louross earns a slightly Matt influenced PRS: B. Pan-seared Halibut earns a solid PRS: A+ for Line Cook Vanessa, along with Ramsay’s thanks.

Left for last is Four-Star General Bobby, an Executive Chef and self-proclaimed Black Chef Ramsay. He’s cool, ‘cause he knows he only speaks the truth. He’s also still under the influence of the BS Spell. Bobby tells the Dark Lord that he can call him Chef Bobby. He serves Hawaiian Butterfish in a Roasted Red Pepper Thai Sauce. He cooked the fish in the deep-fryer proving that he thinks Chef Ramsay is lazy. This costs him at least one grade level and gives him a PRS: C.

The Dark Lord is worried. He’s not sure that any of these DAWWs are worthy of becoming the Head Chef at his new restaurant in Los Angeles – “London LA”. It seems that someone has cast the Spell of Delusion over our DAWWs. Louross thinks he’s fated to win because “London LA Louross” is a Triple-L threat. Jason dreams of winning fame, fortune, and women. Somehow, at this moment, I think Jason is most likely curled in his bed at the hostel continuing to dream of what might have been. It’s gonna be a dream he carries for the rest of his life - Unfulfilled, and unrequited.

The DAWWs are introduced to their Dungeon Masters Team Sous Chefs. Scott, gets the men’s team. Poor Scott. Someone named Gloria (whatever happened to Mary Ann?) gets the slightly better draw of the women. For the first time ever, we’re going into the kitchen with a Captain of each team. Our Executive Chef, Pumpkinhead, looks thrilled and excited. Obviously, the Spell of Delusion is particularly strong.

Lesson #3: Effective Pick-Em Strategies and How to Prepare for Service

Banished to the dungeons dorms, the DAWWs settle in to decide their leaders.

The women take care of this quickly and efficiently, unanimously picking Vanessa due to her A+ Signature Dish grade. They set to work memorizing the menu – a whopping 15 recipes - each of them choosing a number of dishes to be responsible for. They seem to have been able to cast off the spells of BS and Delusion and study into the wee hours of the morning.

The men, however, haven’t ever realized that they are bespelled to begin with. They settle in to get drunk and trade BS. Every single one of them wants the job. They each argue that they’re the most qualified. No one wants to back down. Everyone wants to be the Chief, no one is willing to be an Indian (as the now non-pc phrase goes). The night gets long, and the drinking gets deep. Bobby, weaving and slurring his words, votes for himself. He’s most qualified, according to him, to jump in if someone gets stuck and lend them a hand. (Earth to men: If you’re drowning, the last hand you want extended to you is one belonging to another drowning victim. They’ll just pull you under with them.)

It’s late. They want to go to bed. They’re tired of being browbeaten by a drunken Four-Star General the Delusion Spell and Master of casting his very own BS Spell. They finally let him have his way and name him Captain. It’s not unanimous, but it’s the best they’re gonna get. His first order of business is to tell them to get as much sleep as they can. The menu? They don’t need no stinkin’ menu. They need sleep. It’s almost 11pm and they’ve been up all day!

The sun rises and the men roll out of bed while the women take a few moments to refresh themselves on their study materials in between getting ready.

Finally in the kitchen, General Bobby prepares his troops. He has them slicing and dicing and is quite pleased that they’ve already finished the scallops. He strolls around watching, doing nothing, himself - telling them that if any of them need a hand with anything to be sure to let him know. He stands ready to save them from their shortcomings. Matt thinks this shows great leadership on Bobby’s part. Of course, Matt also thinks white chocolate goes well with capers, caviar, and scallops. Jason continues to dream. Those women he envisions having to fight off? He lets us know right up front what he thinks of women, in general. They’re useless, incapable, and unworthy of more than ironing his shirt. Their only use is to stand by his side and reflect the glory that is Jason to the rest of the world. He’s incapable of losing to a woman – unless it’s in the ironing category. He doesn’t do ironing. I’m guessing he also doesn’t do dishes, laundry, vacuuming, or diapers. Yeppers. The woman that lands Jason will have landed herself a great prize. I wish her well. Sincerely.

Bobby may not be doing anything, but at least he’s in the kitchen. Vanessa seems to have gone missing. Even when she’s there she’s missing. It’s up to Gloria to tell them they need to get moving while Vanessa stands silently chewing on her lip stud.

The DAWWs are prepared. The Dark Lord appears. He calls them together, excited about his new menu. He calls on The General to list the 5 entrees. The 5 entrees they have spent all day preparing to cook! Bobby hems, he haws, he closes his eyes, he admits that he has no idea what he’s been preparing to cook. Hands go up on the women’s team. The Dark Lord calls on Matt. Matt quickly realizes, as Bobby did, that he can’t just make them up out of whole cloth. He admits that he doesn’t know them, either. More hands wave in the women’s kitchen. Storm clouds gather on the Dark Lord’s face. He screams for an answer from Petrozza. Petrozza, along with the rest of the men’s team, tries not to cry.

In desperation he turns to Christina, choosing her from among the sea of waving hands. She reels off the entrees effortlessly while the men watch in uncomfortable silence. They will be preparing Lamb en croute, Salmon, John Dory, Beef fillet, and Poached and Roasted Chicken.

They may have prepared slowly, but at least they had a clue what they were preparing for. The stench of the Delusion Spell is still strong on the men. Matt sees no correlation between “knowing” the menu and “cooking” the menu. (Earth to Matt: Menus are made up of dishes that the kitchen is prepared to cook for you. They generally also give diners a clue as to how the dish will be prepared and which sides will be served along with it. Each dish – entrée, or side - consists of a recipe. This “recipe” thingy tells exactly how each dish will be seasoned, how it will be cooked, and, often how it will be plated. That’s probably why that useless binder that none of you looked at included pictures. It is almost impossible to cook a menu without first knowing what is ON the bloody thing!)

The Dark Lord has yet another surprise in store. For the first time ever (he loves that phrase), Hell’s Kitchen will be serving an amuse-bouche. (Literally, “amuse the mouth”.) This is a small bite of something served at the start of the meal to awaken and excite the taste buds. One person from each team – Petrozza and Shayna - will be serving this new taste-treat tableside. Presumably, this means that this year, unlike years past, diners in Hell’s Kitchen will get to at least put something in their mouths while they wait interminably for something to come out of the kitchen. Or, for Ramsay to shut the kitchen down – whichever comes first. One bite is better than nothing, one would suppose. Then again, this bite is being prepared by DAWWs.

Appetizer orders start to roll in. Unfortunately, those appetizers were also on the menu that the men failed to look at. Quelle surprise. And, Jason, forgetting that appetizers don’t just come out of a can of Cheez-Whiz®, has decided to take his dream outside with the crickets and a bullfrog, where he can smoke a doobie and rub his bare, aching, feet. As the Dark Lord screams his name, Jason comes running back into the kitchen, pan in hand. Did he stop to wash his hands? Do I really want to know? The diners in Hell’s Kitchen probably don’t.

Our tableside DAWWs start serving the amuse-bouche, which appears to be flambéed shrimp. I hope they have a fire extinguisher under that table. They manage to get through without setting anyone or anything on fire, though. And, we don’t hear any complaints. Then again, how hard is it to pour a bit of alcohol on top of pre-seasoned shrimp and light it on fire? Ramsay has managed to find at least one thing the DAWWs can do reasonably well and with minimal supervision. Which is good, because the bunch left in the kitchen are requiring more than their share of supervisory oversight.

Sharon, nicknamed Barbie by Jen, because she’s “blonde with big knockers” and “ditzy”, proves the aptitude of the nick by wandering around lost on appetizers until Jen reminds her that she has to start by sautéing some veggies. That wakes her from her stupor enough to put something in a pan. Jen tries to help, Barbie objects and plates her under seasoned risotto – trying to run away before Chef notices. It doesn’t work and she’s banished to try again, saying in confessional that it wasn’t all her fault. It wasn’t? I could have sworn she refused to let Jen lend a hand. Looks like someone has introduced the Spell of Delusion into the women’s kitchen. Then again, maybe it’s just built up strongly enough on the men’s side that it’s circulating through the exhaust.

Jason also can’t cook the one dish every.single.person that’s ever seen this show knows will be on Ramsay’s menu. And, he makes the cardinal mistake of admitting that he never tasted it, and then says exactly what seasoning it needs. He starts over and Dom (who looks a bit like a 60’s Ken doll with glasses) makes the decision to throw his scallops away. Since they resembled cracked, brown, hockey pucks that was probably a wise choice. But, since Chef never saw them he won’t get any credit for a good judgment call. Then again, Dom’s judgment is probably on a par with the Ken doll he resembles, since he threw them away for the wrong reason.

Mr. General, he who insisted on being the leader because he was qualified to help anyone on anything, tells us that he could have run the kitchen by himself – BUT he “didn’t want to make them look stupid”. Being that kind of a “nice guy” he prefers to let them look stupid by themselves – never once attempting to step in and guide, or help, or support, anyone. The Dark Lord calls him on it – and calls him “useless” in the process. Bobby responds by stepping up his hands-off uselessness.

Sharon fails again and is sent off to put on more make-up. Evidently, Ramsay has seen the resemblance to Barbie, too. Heck, even Sharon seems to like the comparison. She thinks “pretty” and “cooking” go hand-in-hand, and, as far as she’s concerned, she has both in Spades. I see a bobble-head in her future.

While Jean-Phillipe offers bread, wine, and a smile to the diners – who are now calling him useless – Jason finally turns out a scallop risotto that he likes. Until, that is, he realizes that it’s full of little brown bits that he can’t identify. *jumps up & down* “I can! I can! It’s called burned rice! No one even notices Dom/Ken standing around twiddling his thumbs having made no scallops to go with the risotto. Maybe Tweedledum is a better nickname for him.

Ramsay’s had enough. He takes a page from my mother’s book of discipline. If you cook it, you eat it. He orders a crying Jason to sit down and eat the risotto he’s just prepared, offering him dessert if he’s a good boy and cleans his plate. Well, at least not all of the food in the kitchen will be wasted tonight.

Jen is doing her best, cooking the risotto and trying to keep an eye on the eggs being fried by someone else – which, of course, turn out rubber. Vanessa captains all of this by being nowhere around. Ramsay demotes her and makes a field promotion of Rosann – why, we don’t know. Maybe, because she hasn’t done anything yet to piss him off. This results in pissing off Jen, but the kitchen finally gets cooking, and diners finally get eating. Seems Barbie should have accepted Jen’s help. She really can cook risotto.

With nothing else being cooked in the men’s kitchen – Ramsay finally gets around to noticing the rubber bands being prepared by Tweedledum. More scallops end their lives in the bin. Tweedledum stands open-mouthed holding a handful of dripping scallops, Jason tries to finish his plate of inedibility, and everyone else stands around slack-jawed – except for Louron who’s “jumping around like a toilet bowl brush”. In desperation, Ramsay screams at his General to take control. Everyone else calls for him to jump in and help. Mr. “I can help anyone with anything” responds by telling them he’s not about to jump in because they’ve got it. If, by “it” he means the collective brains of a deceased scallop, he’s dead on.

No, it seems the “it” he means is chaos and, rather than try to straighten it out, he’s willing to let it reign. He’ll be “right over here” ready to give them “whatever they need”. As long as it’s not help or leadership. Maybe he really is a General. More than willing to send his troops to die while he waits, ready to criticize, back at HQ, far from the field of battle.

Well, we finally know where that Spell of Delusion is coming from. Bobby seems to be manufacturing it in wholesale quantities. Stripped of his Captain’s Badge – the one he fought so hard to get – he responds by patting himself on the back for retaining his General’s status while Louross is still only a lowly Private – badge or no. Um, no, Bobby. You’ve just been cashiered by your own troops and demoted to Private by the Dark Lord – not even a “First Class” to your name. If this really was HP you would have been providing dinner for Nagini and we wouldn’t have listen to you any longer. Pity. That would have been a “first time ever” moment I’d have watched on Pay-per-view.

Finally. The women get enough appetizers out to start on their entrees. True, the chicken looks – and feels – like it came from a novelty joke store, but the women at least got that far. And, after a dozen attempts and the deaths in vain of multitudes of hapless scallops, the men finally serve an appetizer. Or, well, to be precise, an appetizer left the kitchen. Unfortunately, the diners awaiting it left first. The McDonalds down the street is now filled with diners dressed to the nines scarfing down Big Macs like packs of hungry wolves. No point wasting any more food. The Dark Lord casts a Spell of Darkness over the kitchen, and casts the men into the deepest pits of Hell, nominating Louross to be Executioner’s Assistant.

Poor Louross. He has to nominate 2 people for elimination and clearly he has a minimum of 3 front-running candidates. They’re not gonna make it easy on him, either. The closest he gets to any of them asking to drop out of the running is Jason, who at least tells him he’d like to stay and admits that maybe you do need to have a clue about the menu to cook it. General Bobby refuses to enter into this chaos, either. He’s not gonna beg to stay in. He don’t need no stinking favors anymore than they needed a menu. And, Tweedledum merely blames his failure on the fact that maybe – just maybe – cooking for Ramsay is a little different than cooking for a six-year-old. (Wonder what he thought when submitting his resume. Maybe, something along the lines of “Chef likes pasta. Chef BoyArDee makes pasta. I can do that!” Geez. That Spell of Delusion must have been infused in the application papers.

Jason, at least, has remained spell-free. He tells General Delusion that the two of them are going on the chopping block. He’s right on one score. The General looks to be under the influence of the Stupefy Spell when he’s called out for his lack of focus and leadership. “Stupefy” - “Stupid” - I’m starting to think they must have the same root word, at least in this case. His second nominee is Tweedledum, because of his lack of timing.

Tweedledum properly puts the onus on General Lack of Leadership, but admits to sacrificing at least 30 innocent scallops. So nice naïve of him to be honest. Ramsay only guessed 25 died in vain. He’s quick to reassure him that it was more. This must be the work of a spell we haven’t seen before. We’ll call it the Spell of Idiocy. I’ve a feeling that we’ll see far more of it as the season progresses.

Black Gordon Ramsay tries to shed the blame by saying that his entrees were all ready to go. That would be fine, General Dumba$$, except 1) Entrees, by definition, come after appetizers, ergo 2) You shouldn’t have been cooking any entrees when your kitchen couldn’t manage even ONE appetizer. If he’s telling the truth, every blasted one of his “ready to go” entrees would have either been stone cold, or overcooked to charred perfection. Oh! I get it! By “ready to go” he means the ingredients were all prepped. Prepping, you will recall, all done by the others while he looked on “leading”.

The Dark Lord’s not having it. But, at the last minute General Delusional shakes off the spell and admits that he didn’t do a good job of leadership. Tweedledum is dismissed for a total lack of talent, outmatched only by his total lack of personality, and is told to turn in his robes. His dream of serving the Dark Lord is shattered, as are the dreams of the rest of the team, all of whom had been praying that General Goof-Off would be vanquished. It seems, however, that they are doomed to continue to serve with their own personal Dark Lord.

Next week we’ll have more chaos in the kitchen. There will be crying. There will be delusion. There will be dumpster diving to settle the question of just how many scallops really died for naught. At least that’s what I think will happen. I don’t entirely remember thanks to DAWs under the Spell of Delusion that anyone wants to hear them sing going long and cutting off my recording prematurely. We’ll have to wait and see what the Dark Lord’s next lesson plan is, and they will be graded by Bebo.