You know what, Michael, Jessica and Ralph? There's a very warm place in the afterworld reserved for people like you. Freezing out Elsie during the dinner service just because her chicken-soup recipe dominated the leftover challenge? What are you, a bunch of 12-year-old girls? That's freakin' shameful. And to think the mother of six actually stood there seconds before getting the boot and said that you all had her back. Michael, you deserve a pox for that phony "We're all proud of you" goodbye. What you all should be is pelted with rocks and garbage, not to mention shaking in your clogs. Because now that the three amigos with the overfed egos have conspired to force Gordon into axing the cutie who "touched his heart" with her smile, Chef's gonna be looking for a combo meal of flair, skill and originality. And none of you has that, though the winner does have a huge chance of finding out what a nightmarish patron I can be. So start saying your prayers now, kids. Ain't nothing scarier than a hungry East Coast boy with bone to pick, ya' hear?