Oh, for fuck's sake. You call that a deal? Gordon Ramsay's restaurants are failing just slightly faster than firebombed Yugos, and you're offering this miserable excuse for a meal for sixty-five bucks?

"Caper and shallot dressing. "Dressed rocket." Does dinner come in a cruet? Are plates prohibitively expensive on your side of the pond? If I bring a doctor's note saying I have teeth will you bring me some solid food?

And Cornish potatoes. Yum. As everyone knows, the potatoes from Corn are absolutely -- no, wait, I guess nobody knows what the fuck they are.

But Jesus, "Lyme Bay." What is that, a hospital for people who have been bitten by ticks? For fuck's sake. I don't want my plaice coming from there, whatever the fuck plaice is. And "line-caught." What was the line -- "Well, you're an ugly fish, but I'll fuck you"? What a load of bollocks.