Bitter Feast

- "The giants who formed this world

"and now seem to live in it in chains

"are actually the cause of its life

"and the source of all activity.

"But the chains are the cunning of weak and tame minds,

"thus the proverb,

"'The weak in courage are strong in cunning.'

"Thus the one portion of being is the Producer,

"the other, the Destroyer.

"To the Destroyer,

"it seems like the Producer is in his chains.

"But it is not so.

"He only takes tiny bits of existence

"and thinks it is the whole thing.

"These two classes of men are always upon the earth,

"and they should be enemies.

"Whoever tries to reconcile them

seeks to destroy existence."

- I don't wanna play this game no more.

Silence.

Prepare for battle.

I gotta pee.

En garde, shit stain!

Ow!

Pussy!

I'll give you ten seconds,

and then I'm coming in after you.

I am the Destroyer!

I'm gonna get you, Peter!

Fight! I'm the Destroyer!

- Welcome to The Feast with Peter Grey.

Today's feast,

venison steaks and a maple syrup crème brûlée.

- These venison steaks are from Sullivan County

from a doe that I shot and butchered myself.

- Ew, Peter! - What?

That's ̶ that's Bambi.

Wah-wah-wah.

Come on, Peg.

I mean, hunting is one

of the most fundamentally human acts.

We've been doing it for thousands of years.

It's gross.

It's, uh...

it is organic.

It is sustainable.

I mean, if you want gross,

spend five minutes on the kill floor

of any commercial slaughterhouse.

I'm sure that you'll never eat supermarket meat again.

- When we come back, The Feast continues with ̶

With crème brûlée

made from locally harvested maple syrup.

Don't go away.

- I mean, I really can't take any more of this.

I can't. He's not working with me at all.

- I don't know what ̶ he's under a lot of stress.

- What the fuck was that all about?

What?

- I was riffing in there, asshole.

Riffing?

Tell him what they said.

Tell me what?

- Peter, would it kill you to just play along

every once in a while?

- No, tell him what they said. - Bambi?

You thought that was hysterical.

No, it was a joke.

The audience was rolling in the aisles.

It was fucking idiotic.

That's what it was.

- I can't work with this asshole.

- I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Thank you.

- I wouldn't call what you do work.

The only thing missing from her is a fart in a kazoo.

- Nice. That's helpful.

- Just get another one, Phil. They're a dime a dozen.

It's just not working anymore.

Look, Peter, Peter,

you knew what you were getting into

when you signed up for this.

You do the cooking.

Peg provides a touch of folksy levity.

But she goes too far.

I mean, everything is a joke, Phil.

- That's what the audience wants.

Well, it's not what I want.

It's not what the show was supposed to be.

I mean, I would like people to learn something.

No, ah, ah.

They don't want to learn something, Peter.

They want to be entertained.

You used to understand that, but you've changed.

Well, now here it starts.

- The on-air rants, the pompous lectures.

It's ratings poison, man.

- I don't care about the ratings.

Don't talk to me about the ratings!

Okay, okay.

You know what?

The word from the front office

is that thanks to a major dip in those ratings

which you care so little about,

they are most likely not renewing

The Feast with Peter Grey for the fall.

You can't be serious.

I'm dead serious.

Congratulations, Mr. Integrity.

Hey, all.

What's the matter?

What's going on?

Come on, we have dinner in less than two hours.

Chop! Chop!

What the hell is going on?

Where is everybody?

"Feast reviewed by J.T. Franks.

"I've lost count

"of the Alice Waters-inspired New Americans

"that I've reviewed in the West Village,

"all of them terrible.

"Peter Grey's exercise

"in masturbatory pretentiousness, Feast,

has done nothing to up the average."

Go on.

- "Many of you know Peter Grey for his insufferable

"and increasingly skin-crawlingly awkward

"sustainable-organo-themed

"cable television series, The Feast With Peter Grey,

"which, rumor has it,

"is teetering on the brink of cancellation.

"The city's diners

"should be considering themselves fortunate

if the same fate befalls this dud of a restaurant."

Oh, fuck Franks.

Fuck Franks?

He creates nothing.

- Dude, he creates public opinion,

ergo, he creates everything.

- Gordon, he's a fucking food blogger.

You just don't get it.

It's a fucking disaster.

Is it true?

Is what true?

- About the show being canceled?

Well, what if it was?

I've been wanting to focus more on my cooking anyway.

Focus on your cooking?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Bill Haythe just called.

They've decided to put the expansion plans on hold,

which means they're dead.

Ditto with the line of Peter Grey cookware.

Dude, without your TV face going on the screen every day,

you have fucking nothing.

There's no cooking to focus on.

This is insanity, Gordon.

We were just getting started.

- Peter, let me give you a little advice here.

This whole organic, sustainable, green shtick,

it's a down economy.

People don't give a damn where their hamburger comes from

or how it got to them.

They just want it to taste good.

So what now?

- The sous-chef from Marlow and Sons

is gonna be in this afternoon.

He's taking over the kitchen.

I'm fired?

My hands are tied.

Gordon, this is my life.

- Dude, you're a talented guy,

a little pretentious ̶ scratch that.

You're a lot pretentious.

I agree with Franks on that one.

Anyway, you'll land on your feet.

I am the Destroyer!

I'm gonna get you, Peter!

I am the Destroyer!

No! Stop! No!

I've really hurt my ankle.

Johnny, stop, come on.

Silence!

crunch!