Bitter Feast Page #2

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- The Iron Sheik,

professional wrestling.

He's the villain.

He's the guy who keeps

Sergeant Slaughter in check,

lest the public get restless.

- I see.

Whatever happened

to your novel?

You know, the one...

- Yeah, I remember the one.

- I thought it was good.

- It was sh*t.

- I guess

I'm gonna hit the hay.

I got to be there early

tomorrow, so...

- Okay.

- I'll be at

Saint Luke's-Roosevelt.

I left the number

on the fridge.

- Mm-hmm.

- When they give me a room,

I'll call and give you

the direct line, all right?

I wish you were coming

with me.

- I don't like hospitals.

- I know.

I just

- Hey, I'm on a deadline.

I'll be there to pick you up.

What?

Are you ever going to look

for a job, by the way?

'Cause you spend a lot of time

just standing around

the apartment in your underwear

looking at me like that,

kind of hanging out

over my shoulder.

- Do you even want

another child?

- Jesus Christ.

- I need to hear you say it.

Because if you think

that I enjoy going in

for these treatments,

all the poking

and prodding and

- Then don't.

Don't.

- You don't mean that.

- Really?

- What is wrong with you?

You've become so mean.

- Yeah, well...

sh*t happens.

And then your kid

dies of cancer.

- Stop!

Look at me!

I said, look at me!

I am so sick of this

poor, bitter a**hole routine.

We're starting over right now,

you and me.

We're starting over,

just yes or no.

Just ans

just answer me, okay?

- L l had

I had this moment

just a few minutes ago.

I was watching you pack,

and you were putting

all your stuff in,

and I couldn't help

but thinking

that if you took that bag

and you walked out

the door tomorrow

and you never came back

that it would weirdly be

the exact same thing

as if you did come back.

I-I don't

I don't care.

Live, die, stay, go,

I don't give a sh*t anymore.

Think about that.

Okay.

Hello?

Hello?

- Good morning,

Mr. Franks.

- Thirsty?

Water,

universal solvent,

elixir of life.

Three weeks without food

but only three days

without water.

- This is about my review?

This is about

my f***ing review?

- For now, you will fetch

your own water.

This is insanity.

You realize that this is

absolute f***ing insanity,

right?

- You will fill the bucket.

You will carry the bucket

back to your tree.

And then, and only then,

you may drink.

- My site gets

40,000 hits a day.

Don't you think that somebody's

gonna notice that I'm missing?

- If you break the rules,

you'll get nothing.

Is that clear?

I said, is that clear?

Clang!

- Ah, f***!

Ah, f***!

Help!

Help!

F***.

F***!

- Mr. Franks,

no one can hear you.

- Help!

- Help!

- F***!

- Help!

- Help!

- Help!

- Help!

- Help!

- I'm not sure if

we're in the middle of nowhere,

but I feel

we're quite close to it.

Rules,

Mr. Franks.

Rules.

Not a drop till we get back.

Fill the bucket.

Empty the bucket.

Empty the bucket.

- F*** off.

F***.

Ah, f***.

- Pick it up.

- We'll try again tomorrow.

Perhaps a night under the stars

will clear your mind.

- Okay, wait!

Wait, wait, wait!

Wait! Wait!

Wait, Grey!

You f***er, wait!

Help!

- Phase one

of your rehabilitation

was instilling in you

a respect for the rules,

which I think we can both agree

you've finally acquired.

- Look.

What do you want?

I have money.

- Phase two involves empathy,

teaching you to care.

- Okay, I swear to God,

I will not breathe a word

of this to anyone.

If you just let me go,

I'll make something up.

I'll say

- As a critic,

you have no emotional connection

to your work,

so I suspect that this part

will be slightly more

challenging for you.

- For the love of Christ, man.

Let's see.

"September 25, 2007.

"Over Easy,

reviewed by J.T. Franks.

"The pretext of Over Easy

is simple:

"breakfast your way,

all day.

"Lf the wretched, scabby mess

of egg yolk and charred white

"that the kitchen brain trust

at Over Easy

"recently tried to pass off

as breakfast my way, all day,

"then perhaps

they should drop the 'Easy'

"and simply refer to this

wretched Williamsburg newcomer

as 'Over.'"

How do you like your eggs?

- What?

- I said,

how do you like your eggs?

- Over easy.

- Excellent.

You may eat as many eggs

as you like,

as long as you cook them

to perfection,

over easy.

No runny yellows.

If you deviate

from perfection,

there will be consequences.

- What about my hands?

- What about them?

I can't cook like this.

- Then you don't eat.

Well?

- Oh, dear.

That's too bad.

- I was very clear, very clear,

Mr. Franks.

Over easy.

No runny yellows.

- You broke the yolk!

You broke the yellow!

Now for my review.

J.T. Franks is a worthless c*nt

who doesn't deserve to live.

The end.

- Welcome back

to The Feast with Peter Grey.

Today's feast, rainbow trout

with a potato frittata.

- This trout comes to us

from Sullivan County,

from Roscoe, New York,

which our local anglers like

to refer to as Trout Town, USA.

The butter I picked up

at a local farmer's market

in Livingston.

Now, you just have to look

at that creamy, rich color.

Beautiful.

Now to our frittata.

We're gonna let this go

for another minute.

The egg.

- You know, the egg

is really a perfect food,

packed with protein, vitamins,

omega-3 fatty acids.

- Cholesterol.

- This egg

comes from Honey Hill Farms,

which is just about

an hour or so

up the Hudson River.

Now come in.

As you can see,

look at that beautiful,

deep, rich, golden color.

Really exceptional.

- Looks like

a regular old egg to me.

- Peg, maybe you could

make yourself useful

and dice those potatoes.

Now, a frittata is essentially

an Italian-style omelet,

which, if I can just...

An Italian-style omelet...

- Looking for this?

- Well oh!

- Oh, oh, oh-oh!

Your frittata has spill-ata!

- Mr. Grey?

Mr. Grey!

- Oh, not today.

- Bill Coley,

private investigator.

Sorry to bother you.

I'm just following up

on a missing persons.

Do you know him?

- J.T. Franks.

- You ever met him?

- Can't say I have.

- He wrote a nasty review

of your restaurant.

- J.T. Franks

writes nasty reviews

of every restaurant

in this town.

Nastiness is his mtier.

- Well, he seemed to reserve

an especially toxic disdain

for you, though.

- I wouldn't know.

- Well, he compared

your venison burger

to a vasectomy scar.

Well,

he has a way with words.

I must admit,

I laughed at that one

when I read it myself.

- Now, his review,

would that have anything to do

with your abrupt departure

as head chef at Feast?

- My departure has been

in the works for some time.

- Doing a little

off-roading there, Mr. Grey?

- I have a house

in the country.

- Oh, yeah?

Where?

- Am I a person of interest,

Mr. Coley?

- Ah.

No, no, no, no.

That-that-that's cop talk.

Me?

I'm just following up

on a missing persons.

If you think of anything,

give me a call.

- Authorities say

there has been little progress

in the case of missing

food critic J.T. Franks.

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