A Tale Of Gordan Ramsay

A Tale Of Gordon Ramsay Volume 3.

I get up slowly from my bed, remembering that I had to get to class early, for today was cooking day at St. Celeri Boarding School. I decided to make a spicy chicken curry, with the help of Chef Martha. Martha walked over to me, examining my breasts, when she suddenly slapped my shoulder, "Your breasts are too dry Mr. Ramsay, how will you win if your breasts are that dry!" I felt ashamed of my dry breasts, crumbling apart in the pan. I wanted to be the best chef in the world, not a kid with crusty breasts! How could I fix the problem? What would help me win cooking day? That's when I remembered my favorite spice, cilantro. I ran to the fridge searching for it, but it was gone. I was scared, what could've happened to all of my cilantro? The judges wouldn't let me go to my room to get it so I knew that this was a major problem.
I started screaming like the 9 year old brat everyone in the school knew. Martha came up to me, worried out of her mind. Her flower design dress flapping through the wind from her running. "What is it Gordon?" She said worriedly. I answered back that there was no cilantro. "Gordon, I have a solution to that," she said calmly, "follow me to my room and I'll get you some fresh cilantro that I know you'll love." She said in an almost seductive voice.
Most students would freak out if they were invited into their teachers room, but I was completely okay with it. Almost everyday after school I go to her room to talk about all of the new chefs, rising to the top of the cooking world. We walked to her room and she scrambled through her bright red fur coat pockets until a bunch of slightly browned cilantro bits fell out into her hands. I didn't care if they were old, it would still make the perfect chicken breasts.
"Gordon Ramsay, Bobby Flay, your dishes tasted the best compared to all of the other kids disgusting dishes. We have chosen one of you as this years winner of St. Celeri Boarding School's cooking day." Bobby flay looked at me as if he had already won. He is my only enemy in this school. He has a rat face that judges you every time you walk by. I ignored his obnoxious stare and listened to the judge. The words "rat face" going through my head over and over again.
They were about to announce the winner and I was internally screaming. "This years winner of cooking day is..." The time between each word felt as if they were hours, "...Bobby Flay!" Now I wanted to kill this bastard. He gave me a huge grin and whispered in my ear "No one beats Bobby Flay." And walked up to the podium to accept his trophy. I furiously walked to my room. I will beat Bobby Flay. No matter how hard it is, and the consequences I may have to face.