Roger: "Eh-good evening." [arches eyebrow] "Tonight I am delighted to ah...share my favourite dishes with a select few, and I do hope they appreciate it. Eh..pour commencer, I shall be presenting Feuillage compose con vinaigrette spectaculaire; this is a classic salad of mixed leaves, but departs dramatically from the ordinary when it is married with a vinaigrette made.....eh with the most expensive olive oil on the planet." [Roger holds up a dusty old bottle] "nnnYes, I had this imported from the tiny village of Sotiris, high on the Pindus mountains in northern Greece. I take it this meets with your approval, Nick?"
Nick [deputy chef]: "Yeah! Sure."
Roger: "Splendid. My main course shall be the classic Italian dish Saltimbocca a la Romana, which-" [Roger's mobile rings] "-ah....excuse me while I take this."

Narrator: "In a highly unusual move, Roger answers his phone while discussing his menu!"

Roger: "What? Well bloody yes man, of course I'll do it! Tell them I'll be de-wrinkled and on set in [glances at watch] two hours. Yes yes, see you there." [click] "That was my agent. Oh Nick, tremendous news! Eh...for me, that is. I've been given the lead role in "Octogenarianpussy"; Bond might be in a nursing home, but he hasn't given up his wily ways! Hoho yes....exit stage left!"
[Roger scarpers; the kitchen staff look at each other uncertainly]

Narrator: "So with five hours till the restaurant opens and no chef, can a suitable replacement be found? It's all down to John, the maitre'D."

John: "Hold the fort lads, I've got some calls to make."
[later; John addresses the kitchen staff]
John: "Now I know that Roger's departure is massively unprofessional, but providence never takes away one Moore without dropping another one in your lap!"
Nick: "Eh...whaddya mean?"
John: "I mean....and you're gonna love this...your new head chef is none other than Christy Moore!"
[Christy strolls in, lilting all the while]
Christy: "AhWell hello everybody and quit your bitchin', cause me name is Christy and I'll run this kitchen. How's it going."
Nick [sweating]: "Oh boy."

[later]
Narrator: "With 4 hours to go, Nick is concerned that there's no sign of Christy, or Roger's olive oil! The search is on..."

[the camera follows Nick into the store room; Christy is sitting with his feet in a basin of Roger's olive oil]
Nick: "WHAT THE-"
Christy: "D'you know, I once met a man from Ballintubber who told me the best thing for tired, achey feet is to bathe them in olive oil. It kind of supples up the old pores, do you see. Not the good stuff, mind! Whatever's to hand, y'know yerself. I found this old stuff in the kitchen and said there's me boy."
Nick [hysterically]: "That's Roger's oil! We can't make the starter without that! You're bathing your godforsaken pins in the most expensive oil on the planet, you great cabbage!"
Christy: "Well be the hokey. Sorry about that."
Nick: "What'll we do?"
Christy: "Not to worry Nick, I have a plan."

[later]
Narrator: It's eight o'clock and the restaurant is open for business. Tonight, our resident critics are joined by none other than Phil Coulter. In the kitchen, Christy is feeling the pressure as he prepares and dresses salads. Sweat flows freely, further enhancing an already dubious vinaigrette.

Christy [ruddy-faced]: "Salads for collection! Jaysus this is hard goin', especially on the feet. I coulda done with about another hour in that oil."
Nick: "I can't believe we're sending these out."
Christy: "Ah Nick, they'll be grand! What they don't know and so on."

Narrator: Let's see what the critics think...

[outside]
Doorley: "Intriguing. The mixed leaves are like something that got posted in 1978 and just arrived [snort], but the vinaigrette has [waving hands] so much going on. There's subtle undertones of what I think may be regato or parmesan and....yes, a perfect saltiness. Hint of anchovy essence perhaps?"
Nick [wide-eyed]: "Tom Doorley has just complimented a toe-cheese and sweat vinagrette. Maybe this will work. Christy! How are those main courses coming along?"
Christy: "Right y'are Nick! Saltimbocca for Paulo is ready!"

[outside]
Tullio: "Eh...[poking sinister-looking fare]..pardon my impudence, but I always thought that Saltimbocca was escalope of veal. I'm afraid that our poor deluded chef has served me up what looks like a length of rubbery black hose. Saltimbocca literally translated is 'jump in the mouth', which I am afraid this substance has no chance of doing."

[inside]
Christy: "Arrah sit on it Tullio! Wouldn't be the first time you had a length of rubbery black hose jump in your piehole!"
Nick: "Christy! What the hell was that?"
Christy: "Sorry Nick, sorry! Crossed wires - I thought it was meant to be escalope of eel. Look, we'll make up for it with the steaks. They're a bit white-lookin' though."
Nick: "That's cause they're veal escalopes! Fuckit, look - we'll have to just grill them and send them out and hope for the best. Can you take care of that?"
Christy: "Aye aye cap'n."

[later]
Christy: "Steaks for collection! Christ, they're a bit on the burnt side but me back's to the wall."

[outside]
Coulter: "Oh my. Steaks, is it. Well these have seen a little too much of the grill, what do you reckon chaps? [smug laughter]"

[inside]
Christy: "Well would you look who's talkin'. It's like watching someone shovelling steak pieces into a suitcase. Feckit, onto the desserts. Martina, have you whipped the cream?"
Martina: "Sorry Christy, but I can't get the bloody stuff to thicken!"
Christy: "Not to worry - just go to my bag there and take out what's inside."
Martina: "It's....an action figure?"
Christy: "Not just any action figure! That's an Action Lunny 2000 with bionic banjo-strum action. Now! Shove him over the bowl and squeeze his arse. That activates his strumming arm!"
Martina: "It's working Christy! Action Lunny is whipping it up a treat!"
Christy: "Ah sure Lunny'd never let you down. Pour it over them apple tarts there. Desserts for collection!"

[outside]
Doorley: "Oho. Apple pie and cream, is it? Muhuhuh, maybe....[snort]...maybe we stepped through a time-tunnel on the way in chaps?"
Tullio: "Haw haw haw! Perhaps our chef was defrosted before being sent into the kitchen!"
Coulter: "Heh heh heh. Someone should tell him about the Beatles breaking up."

[inside]
Nick: "Christy, put the pan down, come on! They're critics and that's what they do!"
Christy: "DO YEH WANT SOME NICK, DO YEH? I'll take that level of abuse from no man. OUTTA ME WAY-"
[hasty cut to credits]