Ebra, make sandwiches! Don't stop making fucking sandwiches. Yes, Chef.
I'm going to make three sections, OK? They're going to be Wet, Hot, and Sweet, all right? I'm going to take green tape, make those sections.
Louie, I want you to get the sandwiches put into the corresponding sections. OK, yeah. Behind!
Yo, [INAUDIBLE],, bag, Sharpie, label that shit. Please, Chef. - Yes, Chef.
[INAUDIBLE] Tina, fire every single chicken we have, please. OK? Richie, do you even know how to do fries?
RICHIE: Yes. And I know we need them now. OK.
Marcus, where are we on cakes? Uh, getting there. Getting there?
What the fuck do you-- Marcus, what the fuck are you doing still working on this shit? Yo, come on. What are you tripping for?
The cakes are in the oven. What the fuck am I tripping for? Are you here right now?
- It doesn't make a difference. There's four cakes. And still-- Yeah, I was going to cut them.
They're not even cut yet? Yeah, it's not that big of a deal. What's this?
Chef! Um, I am-- I'm doing them in five, basically. I'm going to order of them in fives, so-- No, stop.
Everything. Fire everything right fucking now. OK, I'll fire everything now.
I just was finishing talking to Marcus and-- - Step out. - OK. I'm going to talk to Marcus.
Step out-- get the fuck off my expo, Chef, now! Get the fuck off! Thank you.
We're firing 76 beefs, 34 chickens-- OK-- 12 french fries, 12 mash, fucking now! Yes, chef. Thank you.
Behind. Corner. Oh.
[CLATTERING] Oh, shit. You didn't say corner. You didn't say corner.
Fuck you, Richie. You don't need to curse at me-- - Fuck-- - --like a maniac. You didn't say corner.
I'm not a fucking maniac, man. It's your bullshit that fucked us today, not mine. It's your bullshit.
Fuck you, Richie. Sydney. Fuck you.
I like that pace, Louie. Yeah, baby.
