• Published 14th Mar 2013
  • 8,080 Views, 226 Comments

Hell's Kitchen: Equestria Gets Burned - GhostofSandwich



Hell's Kitchen, one of the world's most popular cooking competitions comes to Equestria! Two sides pitted against each other, friends battling one another for a chance to win the prize...

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Signature Dishes

The town of Ponyville was bustling in its usual splendor. For one of the first times in a while, there was neither a problem nor sign of trouble anywhere. Everypony seemed to be enjoying the peace. At least until a bright flash of light erupted from the west side of town.

Everypony had expressions of detached bemusement at the sight of the new building that was now sitting right outside of the west edge of town. It was a grand building, the size of which wasn't matched by even the city hall. Even though it was only two stories tall, the sheer size of the area of the building was what made it humongous.

Some of the ponies gasped as a skinny Minotaur like figure stepped out of the building. Everything about it said Minotaur, except for the fact it had neither fur nor horns. Somewhere, Lyra yelled something about a human, but they just ignored her and continued to stare at the alien figure before them.

“Hello, Equestria!” Some of the ponies backed away from the figure as it spoke out. “My name is Jean-Philippe Susilovic. I’m here on behalf of Gordon Ramsay to present to you all Hell’s Kitchen!” The ponies all examined the building before them. The craftsmanship was something they had never seen before. It was made of a nice stone and had a strange logo on the front. HK with a pitchfork between the two letters.

“What is it?” Twilight whispered into the ear of her nearby friend, Pinkie Pie. Why she asked her, nopony would ever know.

“Hairless Minotaur? With reversed legs? How should I know?” The two focused their attention back to the front as the creature spoke up once more.

“I assure you that we mean no harm. You see, Chef Ramsay enjoys watching your universe. It helps him wind down after a long day of dealing with wannabe chefs. His favorite pony is Rainbow Dash, so she immediately gets a spot on the blue team.” Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened at the revelation of this news. “Could Rainbow Dash please step forward?”

“Awesome!” Rainbow happily flew to the base of the building and stood next to Jean.

“Thank you. As for the rest of you, we need 17 more contestants. If you are interested, please make your way into the building.”

“Question!” Jean looked over the crowd of ponies as the voice broke through. As he scanned over the crowd to see which pony had spoken out, he didn’t see the pony next to him, bouncing happily. “What are we doing?”

“Holy Jesus!” Jean fell over on top of Rainbow Dash as Pinkie spouted her loud voice into his ear. “Where did you come from?”

“A rock farm!” She smiled happily as the Maître Dean stood from the floor, brushing his suit off.

“Well, I guess I needed a shower anyways. To answer your question, pink pony, it’s a cooking competition! Two teams of 9 are pitted against each other with the goal of finishing the food service. Chef Ramsay will give you more information once inside.”

“Ooh, do we win something?!”

“Yes, there is a most spectacular prize. As I just said, Chef Ramsay will give you all the details.”

“Who is this Chef Ramsay guy? Is he a Minotaur? What happened to your fur? Why are your legs straight and not curved? Where did this building come-”

“Please, no more questions!” Pinkie nodded and zipped her mouth up. Quite literally. “Well, I suppose that works. Now, anybody- I mean anypony that would like to be on the show please enter the restaurant?” The crowd began to murmur as Jean stepped aside, allowed any access to the building.

The first one to enter was of course Rainbow Dash. Even though she wasn’t the best cook, she had learned some techniques in her life. Plus, she knew how to use some of the best of Pegasi spices.

The second to enter was none other than the baker herself, Pinkie Pie. After those two, multiple others entered. All were noteworthy for their cooking skill, for their prowess and ability to possibly win this new competition. In total, about thirty ponies ended up entering the building to meet this Chef Ramsay fellow.

As they entered the building, they could help but marvel over the spectacle that was the interior. Posh carpets, smooth stone walls, spectacular lighting. All of these things were some of the major splendities of this new building. They stopped as they all saw a tall man before them.

His attire was composed of a white jacket with buttons keeping it held together, breasted over the other side. Black pants, the likes of which looked to be perfectly tailored for him. Rarity was the first to notice his fashion sense, thinking it to actually not all that bad.

“Good morning, ponies. My name is Gordon Ramsay, but please do call me Chef Ramsay, or just Chef. You probably have a lot of questions as to where I’ve come from and what I am. Allow me answer the second one. I’m a human, from the planet Earth. I’ve come here with the grace of your Princesses, Celestia and Luna.” The ponies began to murmur about themselves, causing Chef Ramsay to clear his throat loudly. “While you are in my restaurant, I demand your absolute respect.”

“You see, in my world I host a show called Hell’s Kitchen. A competition where two teams are pitted against each other to win a chance to be my head chef at one of my restaurants. That and a salary of a quarter million dollars. I’ve had 10 successful seasons; 10 winners. To switch things up, I’ve decided to come here to host the 11th season here!”

“If you’re wondering how I know of your planet, then allow me to summarize that. You’re a TV show on my world. With the help of the top scientist on Earth, I managed to get in contact with your Princesses, who are quite aware of my show. It didn’t take much to convince them to allow me to host it here. So here I am! Now, do you have any questions I didn’t answer?”

“What’s the prize?!” He looked at Pinkie Pie, who was jumping up and down.

“I’ll be giving the winner this entire restaurant to run how they see fit. That, plus the Princesses have allowed me a quarter million bits to give to the winner.” Pinkie fell to the floor onto her haunches and allowed her jaw to drop. She just imagined all of the parties she could throw with that amount of bits.

“So, where is this blue team?” Rainbow Dash stepped forward and began to look around the restaurant.

“Don’t worry, Rainbow. You’ll be given your jacket and be excused from the signature dish challenge. After that, you’ll be just another contestant. Jean will show you to the blue teams’ dorm. Any more questions, or can we start the first challenge?” Silence prevailed over the room, indicating Chef Ramsay to continue. “Jean, please show Rainbow to her room. The rest of you, line up at the serving table.

The remaining 28 ponies did as asked and made their ways to the front of the serving line. They all watched as Rainbow followed the man named Jean into some doors at the back of the kitchen. After they were gone, they all directed their attention back to Chef Ramsay.

“Allow me to explain how this works.” He began to pace back and forth. “You all will cook for me. Some of you with meager skills will be put to the test, while those with the cooking competence of garbage workers will be chopped out. During each challenge you will go through Hell. Your spirits will break. Your hands- I mean hooves will ache. In your dishes your blood, sweat, tears, but mostly blood, will be used to make each dish. And I will be there every step of the way to make sure you don’t burn down this kitchen. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, Chef.” Most if not all of the ponies were staring wide eyed at the man before them as the realization of what they had gotten themselves into revealed itself.

“Anybody- I mean anypony that knows they are too weak to survive here, there’s the door.” He pointed back at the door with his finger. “And you better well wipe your hooves off on the mat, because I don’t like failure trailing on the floor!” Six ponies immediately darted out of the restaurant, not looking back for one moment.

“That’s six wastes of time I don’t have to deal with. Who else?” he asked, glaring at the remaining contestants with his arms crossed. “And may I remind you this will be televised live, before all of Equestria and Earth. Everyone will see every blunder and idiotic mistake you make. Are you prepared for that?” With a gulp, all of the ponies nodded. “Good, now get into the kitchen and make your signature dishes. Don’t insult me by making utter crap and trying to pass it off as food. One last thing: only 17 of you will be staying.”

“Yes, Chef.” The remaining 22 ponies split evenly into the different kitchens. All the while, Gordon simply stood there with his arms crossed as per usual.

Each of the ponies had a different outlook on the foodstuffs that they had before them to cook with. There was a plethora of meats, vegetables, spices, etc. to choose from. At first, everypony went for the vegetables, since they were more accustomed to it. Upon realizing that Chef Ramsay was looking for those that dared, some started to grab different slabs of various kinds of meats. “Come one, its meat! It’s already dead, so it won’t hurt you!” Still, no ponies ventured further. “Guess we’re eating vegan tonight,” he sighed, facepalming at the implications.

“Come on! You only got thirty minutes to make a marvelous dish! And make sure it’s actually edible! I don’t want my stomach pumped the first day here!” Fluttershy was the last to exit the kitchen, a plentiful amount of vegetables with her. This brought upon a raised eyebrow by Chef Ramsay, but he allowed her a chance to impress him using only vegetables.

For 28 minutes, the ponies prepared their best dishes, all the while stressing over trying to be perfect. The strive for perfection left a few with a single minute left, but their dishes still needing to be plated. And all the while Ramsay would say, “An epileptic first grader can chop this better,” or, “boiled, this feels like it was still in the deep waters of Antarctica!”

As the clock reached the last ten seconds, Ramsay began to count down. “Ten, nine,” terror of failing began to strike the hearts of some ponies as they started to plate their food. “Six, five,” The ones that had plated their food rushed to the front and placed it onto a platter, placing the cover over it. “Three, two,” The ones that had been behind finished plating their dishes and dashed them to the front. “One. Okay, stop!” All of the ponies immediately stepped back to signify they were no longer preparing or plating.

“I’ll be calling you up one by one to present you dishes. If it’s -god willing- good, then you’ll be allowed to go back in line. If it’s inedible or even insulting to my tastes buds to the slightest, you’ll be finding yourself walking your merry flanks out of my restaurant. Now, first up... Lyra. Did I pronounce that right? Hell, I don’t care. Just get up here.”

He sat down as a light aquamarine mare stepped forward with dish wrapped carefully in her magic. “Stop, stop! Wrong! I’ll say this only once, so you better hear me now. I won’t tolerate the use of magic. I’ll allow it to slide this one time, but from now on, no magic! It’s an unfair advantage to those that can’t use it.” Lyra quickly placed the dish onto the table and stood straight as he nodded to her to reveal it.

“I made a Risotto al Pomodoro for you today, Chef.” Ramsay raised an eyebrow at the revelation that she was aware of what a risotto was, let alone how to make it. She lifted the platter lid, revealing a dish with white rice carefully prepared with the occasional tomato thrown within. She pushed it over to him, allowed him to look it over.

“The plating could be better, but it’s not dreadful. You should learn to split your tomatoes up a bit so that the flavor is absorbed in every part of the dish.” That said, he got a fair spoonful of the dish onto a spoon and raised it to his mouth. Lyra held her breath as she put the spoon in his mouth. For about seven seconds, he chewed, his face not indicating whether enjoyed it or not.

“The rice is a bit undercooked, but the use of basil is spot on. I’m disappointed in the positioning of the tomatoes, but you still managed to have the rice absorb the flavor. Overall, it’s not bad, but it’s sure to not be the worst thing I have tonight.”

“Thank you, Chef.” Lyra began to levitate the platter, before stopping and instead placing it on her back with her hooves. With extreme balance, she made her way back to the line, allowing the next contestant to step up.

“Next, Fluttershy.” She squeaked softly as her name was called, but quickly walked to the table with her dish on her back. Gingerly, she placed the dish on the table and took the top off.

“I-I M-m-”

“Darling, could you speak up? I feel like I’m listening to a rat. You’re not a rat, are you?”

“N-No, Chef.”

“Then speak up. If you don’t then I’ll be forced to treat you like a rat. Starting with kicking you out of my restaurant for being a vermin.” She squeaked once more and looked away. “Well?” She swallowed hard and looked back up, forcing her voice to be a bit louder.

“I-I made a salad with boiled carrots and homemade vinaigrette.” He overlooked the green and orange plate. Despite there being a small amount of food, it was plated brilliantly, with almost perfect precision expected of someone with nimble fingers.

“Well, the plating is amazing. Not much work to put an uncooked salad together,” he poked it with his fork. “What’s on the lettuce leaves to make them so wet? They’re almost liquid! I could probably strain enough water out of them to have a bath!”

“They were soaked in water with various spices in it. It was to add flavor and I find it is easier to chew when the leaves aren’t so dry.”

“Daring. I like that, but is it daring that gets you a one way ticket out of Hell?” He looked back down the dish as he impaled a few leaves and a carrot onto his force, dipping the food into the red vinaigrette. He smelled it for a moment before placing it into his mouth. Just like with Lyra, his expressionless face told her nothing of what his opinion was. After the longest eight seconds of her life, he swallowed and placed the fork down.

“While the leaves were sliding around my mouth like very skinny slugs, the flavoring was spot on. For not a moment could my taste buds actually decide on a flavor, which is good for a salad of this caliber. On another note, the carrots were a bit overcooked, which disappointed me, as it killed some of the flavor the vinaigrette and leaves gave. Not a bad dish, but work on your carrots, darling.”

“T-Thank you, Chef.” She smiled and grabbed her dish, returning to the line once more.

“Okay, next disappointment, step forward!” he yelled, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table while giving an executioner’s glare to the remaining contestants. With a happy smile, Pinkie made her way forward, the dish balanced perfectly on her mane.

“I swear, if the chefs back on Earth had one tenth of you ponies’ balancing ability, they wouldn’t be klutzes and drop their dish all the time,” he noted, a grimace on his face when he noticed what Pinkie’s dish was.

“Is- did you bring me cupcakes? Look at them! You could get diabetes by just licking them!” he groaned as he sat back down. Just looking at the sugary delights made him get a sugar rush.

“Diabetes? If that’s a fancy word for happiness, then you’re right!” She happily pushed the plate of six cupcakes to Ramsay, causing him to back away slightly as the scent of them entered his nostrils.

“Dear god, I can taste the sugar just from smelling it! What’d you do, pour an entire bag into the batter?” he exclaimed, while reluctantly reaching for one.

“No, half a bag!” He stopped moving the treat to his mouth as this was revealed to him. Placing the sugary delight back onto the platter, he placed a hand on his forehead.

“First off, this show doesn’t pay dental, so I don’t want all my teeth to fall out from my mouth just by taking a bite from this pink monstrosity you call a pastry. Secondly, any chef that uses half a bag of sugar just for a batch of cupcakes is either un-right in the head, or retarded. For you, I’m guessing a mixture of the two.” He pointed a single finger at the door. “You see that door? Become best friends with it, cause you’re about to be better acquainted. Get the hell out of my kitchen!”

“But...” Pinkie’s eye began to water as they widened, giving her a puppy dog look. With a single high pitched scream of sadness, she began to bawl literal waterfalls from her eyes.

While Ramsay could be called an uncaring asshole (and he would agree with you on that), making an adorable, pink pony cry actually moved him. That, and the water was soaking the floor, and he could not stand wet floors in his kitchen “Oh, Jesus. Fine, I’ll at least try them. But if it’s not the best damned cupcake I’ve ever had, you’re going to be watering the flowers outside.” With extreme reluctance, he reached at one of the cupcakes. “If I pass out, you’re paying the hospital bill.”

He slowly bit into the cupcake, leaving a fair sized bite mark in the side. Even though he tried his hardest to maintain his usual uncaring expression, the extreme sweetness of the treat made the corners of his mouth twist upwards. Upon finishing the treat, he placed the remaining cupcake back on the plate and stepped back.

“While I’m sure my teeth canal has been depleted to almost nothing, it wasn’t the worst sugar related thing I ever tasted. While the over sugary taste destroyed nearly everything with the dish, the frosting was light and fluffy while the cupcake was moist with nice consistency. So overall... not bad.”

“So... I can stay?”

“As long as you promise to never rot my insides away like that again. You’re on a tight leash though, so don’t piss me off either.” Pinkie happily jumped into the air as she grabbed her dish and made her way back to the line,

“Three down, which means I’m bound to run into something horrible soon. Next!” Upon his demand, the next pony stepped forward. His jaw fell slightly agape as a small filly stepped forward. “Alright, who let the child in here?”

“Please, at least let me show you what I made! Maybe I’ll get my cutie mark!” Ramsay sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair.

“Fine, I suppose the rules are a bit different here.” Sweetie Belle smiled and jumped onto a nearby chair, placing her dish on the table in front of her.

“I made some potato soup with plenty of spices to increase the flavor!” She pulled the top of the platter off, allowing Ramsay to see the horror before him.

“Oh god! It’s black as the night! What’d you do, pour ash into it?” He quickly waded a spoon throughout the ash like substance, pulling the spoon out which was coated in a black gooey substance. “It’s fucking tar! I could go outside and make pavements with this! If I swallowed this shit I’ll literally be creating a highway to my bloody stomach! What do you want me to do, make my intestines into an intersection?”

“Oh, dang... Thought I made something good. Oh well, back to the drawing board!”

“Here, take this with you. Maybe you can get your cutie mark in construction! Ridiculous... Next!” He took a seat down as Applejack stepped forward with an apple fritter. As she sat it down and revealed the golden brown fritter, he sighed.

“What’s with you ponies and the sweets? God, I’m pretty sure that if you had diabetes here, the insulin company would be rich!” he sighed as the plate was pushed in front of him. Grabbing his fork, he began to poke gently on the crust.

“You have a glorious crust. A bit overcooked on the bottom, but nothing too serious looking.” He punctured into the shell, allowing gooey apple to slowly seep out. “It’s filled brilliantly. Not too much and not too little.” Swiftly, he scooped a generous amount of the filling with a fair amount of the shell onto his fork and placed it into his mouth.

“Secret family recipe. Ah’m sure ya’ll love it.” He finished chewing and swallowed, placing the fork back down next to the dish.

“There’s something in there. What did you put in there?” He gently tapped his napkin against his mouth.

“Apple and the secret family recipe to add some sweetness.”

“Well?”

“Pears.”

“P-pears... In an apple fritter. You’re either completely insane, or the most glorious culinary inventor to ever make a fritter. Probably both. Either way, I want everypony to come up here and taste this! Come on, don’t dilly dally. This is what I expect of you when you cook for me!” Everypony in line stepped forward and took a bite from the fritter. “Get creative with what you do, but never cross any boundaries. And remember: daring to be great can lead you to be a miserable failure.”

“Thank ya so much!”

“Yeah, don’t get all excited. It may have been good, but it wasn’t the best fritter I’ve had. A big head won’t be able to fit through an apron. Back in line with you. Next!” His eyes glared at Berry Punch as she stepped forward.

“Hello, Chef,” she slurred, as she placed the dish on the table. “Today I made for you a grilled chicken soaked in apple cider to give it a sweet flavor.” Ramsay raised an eyebrow.

“Apple cider? Well, at least it’s meat. I thought I was going to turn into the green giant at the rate of vegetables I was eating.” He poked at the chicken for a moment before grabbing his knife and slicing into it, revealing the inside to be white. “Well, it’s not raw. Feels a bit rubbery though.” He took the piece of chicken and placed it into his mouth. For ten seconds he chewed, before eventually spitting it out into the trash can nearby.

“This chicken is so rubbery that goodwill called and asked for the recipe! Honestly, I don’t even know what to say. It’s sad because the flavoring is really good. But I felt like I was literally chewing a flavored tire! Disappointing.” He picked the plate up, throwing it into the trash can. “Maybe you can use that sorry excuse for chicken to make some wheels to aid your exit from my kitchen.”

“Thank you, chef.” Everypony watched as Berry Punch made her way out the double doors, not once looking back. She stumbled a bit on exit, apparently sampling some of the cider for her dish before leaving.

“If any of the chicken is even half as rubbery as that, I’m starting a fucking tire company. Next!” The next pony up was none other than the baker, Donut Joe. Apparently he had been making a delivery from Canterlot when the restaurant showed up.

“Hello, Chef. My name is Donut Joe, Joe for short.” Ramsay gave the pony the death stare.

“Did I ask what your name was?”

“No, sorry, Chef. I made you a donut upside down cake, infused with apples to give it a super sweet flavor.” He revealed the dish, which looked like a brick of cooked dough with icing on top.

“Is that a donut upside down cake or a piece of burnt bread with icing on top?”

“Donut upside down cake, Chef.” Ramsay sighed and sliced through it with his fork.

“Is it supposed to be this moist?” he asked, while raising the fork, a thin liquid dripping from it.

“Um, no, Chef.”

“Fuck me, you fucking doughnut! A good donut upside down cake needs at least an hour to bake! Look at this!” he yelled, while slicing into the pastry once more. “Fucking raw! There is enough liquid here to quench the thirst of a drought stricken village in the desert! Bugger off, you soggy piece of pastry dough.”

“I’m sorry, chef.”

“Yeah? Well go be sorry for yourself outside. Take this with you so you have something to cry into! It’ll absorb the tears for eons!” He pushed the plate back to Joe, who promptly picked it up, placed it on his back and walked out. “Calls himself a baker and can’t even make a fucking donut cake. Alright, my patience is wearing thin! Next!” Twilight gulped as she walked forward with the dish on her back. Gently, she placed it onto the table before Chef Ramsay. “Well, at least it smells good.”

“Thank you, chef.” She raised the platter lid to reveal a glorious golden brown beef wellington. “Today I have a beef wellington. I ran into the recipe one day while reading a book of ancient Equestrian cuisine. Of course, that didn’t use meat, but I got creative!”

“Sweetheart, I didn’t ask for a history lesson, and I don’t like show offs. The only eggheads I want in my kitchen are the ones that are in a small white or brown oval form, am I clear?”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Good.” He examined the wellington before grabbing his fork. “The outer pastry is well cooked, which is hard to do while cooking it well enough to make the inside cooked too. If I cut into this, is the meat going to be cooked or raw?”

“Cooked, Chef. I wasn’t sure how you liked it, so I cooked it medium rare.” He simply stared at the mare before slicing down the middle of the wellington with his knife. Inside was a well done brown meat with red in the center. “It looks cooked,” he touched the middle with his finger, “and the center is warm. Most of all, it’s juicy.” He sliced off a fair portion and impaled it with his fork, raising it first to his nose then to his mouth. After finishing, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and placed his utensils back down.

“It’s perfect. Everything from the spices to the perfect amount of juices in the meat. I think this may very well be the best dish I’ve tasted all day. Good job. Keep cooking like that and you may just earn my respect. And by respect, I mean I won’t consider you a waste of breathable oxygen.”

“Thank you, Chef.” She smiled as she picked the plate back up, placing it gently onto her back and making her way back to the line.

“Okay, next! If this next one is even half as good as that last dish, then I’ll die a happy man.” He waited as a grey wall eyed mare with golden eyes stepped forward. Despite her ditzy walking, she somehow managed to keep the food on her back.

“Hi, Mr. Chef!”

“Stop, did you just call me Mr. Chef?”

“Sorry, Chef. I’m not used to calling people chef!” The mare clumsily placed the plate onto the table, pushing it to Chef Ramsay. She moved the platter cover to reveal a perfect looking blueberry muffin. “I normally don’t like blueberry, but I thought you’d like the color!” She stepped back as her eyes moved in various directions trying to focus on Ramsay.

“Are you alright? You don’t need to sit down or something, do you?”

“Sorry, sir- Chef. I’m always like this. Don’t worry, though! I know how to cook.”

“I’ll be the judge of that...” He picked up the muffin and touched the top and bottom. “Seems to be the perfect moisture, although the top is a tiny bit rubbery.” With an expressionless glare, he bit into the muffin. A few seconds later, he placed it back onto the tray and looked the mare in her eyes. Or rather the eye that was actually focused on him.

“I’ll be honest. I have no idea how you made something like this when you can’t even focus your eyes. You’re clumsy beyond all regard and it’ll probably be a bad idea to put you in my kitchen. But this muffin is moist, the flavors perfection, so I’ll allow you a chance. Back in line and for God’s sake, try to stand straight!”

“Thank you, chef!” She picked up the plate and somehow made her way back to the line without dropping it.

“That’s two good dishes in a row. If I get a third one, I’ll literally stand on this table and do a backflip in joy and waltz with the frickin’ Princess. Next!” He stared emotionless at the next pony that walked up, this one a mare with three smiling flowers on her flank. Cherilee placed the dish onto the table and revealed a brown stew.

“Oh, God! Did you put mud in there? It’s atrocious looking! Never would I serve that to even a homeless man.”

“Oh, dear... I guess the color settled to the bottom!”

“More like your brain settled into your ass! I’m afraid to even taste this!”

“I assure you that it has flavor.”

“Sure, the flavor of mud and failure.” He reluctantly grabbed a spoon and picked up a small spoonful. “Look at this! The water has separated from the rest of the stew! I could strain the water from this and be left with a spoonful of brown mush that looks like something that came from someone’s arse!” He raised the spoon to his mouth and placed it into his mouth. Fortunately for her, he didn’t spit it out.

“There is flavoring in there, but it’s extremely diluted by the water in there. I have absolutely no idea what went wrong, but it ended up with you walking out of here. Go on, bugger off.” Cherilee frowned and walked out of the restaurant through the double doors. “Actually, I think I’d sooner eat mud than this... whatever this is.” He sighed as he tossed the dish into the trash, taking his seat again. “One more down, leaving us with only 18 remaining. One more of you will be leaving tonight, so you better damn well hope that you cooked something more edible than that.” He gestured for the next pony to step forward.

“Glorious morning, Chef.” Rarity placed her dish gracefully onto the table.

“What are you, Mary Poppins?”

“Uhm... anyways, I have prepared a splendous chocolate trifle with strawberries.” She pulled the lid off of the platter, revealing a marvelous trifle of very high caliber.

“It looks marvelous! As luck would have it, trifles are my favorite dessert. That also means it very bloody well be a damned good trifle.” He picked his spoon up and slowly stuck it down to the bottom of the glass container. “The gelatin at the bottom is the perfect thickness and the sponge cake is perfectly cooked.” he complimented, while digging a fair share of the gelatin, cake, and cream from the container. He stared at the colors of the desert as he placed the spoon into his mouth. A moment later, he placed the utensil down and wiped his mouth.

“The gelatin was excellent and complimented the sponge cake perfectly. The crème however, felt a little heavy for the lightness of the cake, which threw the proportions off. Other than that, it’s one of the most visually pleasing sights I’ve set my eyes on so far. That and it did manage to remove the taste of that mud I had to eat a moment ago. Good job.”

“Thank you ever so graciously, Chef.”

“Go on; fly back to the line with your umbrella.” Rarity gracefully picked her dish back up and made her way back to the line, being careful not to even unsettle the smallest of the dish.

“Alright, since we only have one more pony to eliminate, we’re going to up the rules a bit. Please welcome your judges for this season, Celestia.” The sun goddess herself stepped through a set of double door, sitting down at a table with a smile on her face, “Luna.” Luna stepped from a second set of double doors, taking her seat next to her sister, “And Discord!” Instead of coming out of the final set of double doors, Discord revealed himself as the chandelier above the table, falling down in his seat with a cup of tea.

Ramsay smiled as he walked over and shook his hand with the hooves of the two royal sisters and the hand of Discord, who bowed after doing so. “Thank you three for coming,” he said while turning around to the wannabe chefs, “they will be judging all food from now on, with me serving as the fourth judge. Now, you are to step up one after another if you haven’t gone yet. You’re dish will be tasted by these three judges and each will pick a least favorite dish. If they pick three different ones, I will choose which one leaves. Now, please step up and present your dishes.”

One after the other, the remaining ponies stepped forward and presented their dishes. After the remaining 11 contestants had presented their dishes, they awaited the judges to tell them who was leaving.

Of the 11 remaining, there was Big Mac with his T-bone steak; Time Turner (AKA Doctor Whooves) with his fruit tart; Braeburn from Appleloosa with his apple pie; Spike with his fruit cake; Mr. Carrot Cake with his, well, carrot cake; Soarin with his apple tart; Sombra with his devil food cake; Bon Bon with her chocolate bon bons; Gustav the Gryphon with his chocolate éclair; Sparkler with her glistening cookies; and Shining Armor with a tortellini.

Upon finishing tasting the final dish, the judges began to think upon which dish was the worst. Celestia and Luna both had palettes dating back thousands of years, so they knew what was and wasn’t good. And Discord, well... He made chocolate rain. Out of cotton candy clouds! It goes without saying that he had excellent taste in food. Even if he did eat the plate of one of the dishes instead of the actual dish.

“Celestia, your worst dish and why?” he asked, while raising his fingers in a tented position to his mouth.

“Well, I wasn’t that fond of the glistening cookies. While very colorful and visually stimulating, the actual cookies were just too powdery and dried my mouth.” Ramsay nodded and turned to Luna.

“Luna, least favorite dish and why?”

“I found the T-bone steak to be a bit dry. The sauce managed to luckily save that, but a good steak should always be moist without additional help.”

“Thank you. Finally, Discord, worst dish and why?”

“Those bon bons! Dreadful! You call those chocolate? I’ve had mud that tasted more chocolate than that! Granted, it was mud that was from chocolate milk rain, but you get my point! And how boringly sane were they? Honestly, no attempt to make them fun at all!”

“Thank you, judges. It looks like we have a tie between the three worst dishes. Bon Bon, Big Mac, Sparkler, please step up front.” The three traded glances at each other as they stepped forward. “I aim to only find the best in chefs. You three obviously don’t have what it takes, but two of you will be fortunate enough to be given a second chance. One of you, however, will be leaving and never returning.” Ramsay neared the table and tried each of the dishes, not indicating with his expressions which one he found horrible.

“Judges, a moment of your time please.” The four judges departed into the back room of the kitchen for about three minutes. The longest three minutes of the three unfortunate enough to be on the chopping block. As they returned, Chef Ramsay sighed and looked at the three contestants.

“The one going home tonight is…” He sighed once more. “Big Mac.” The tall stallion sighed and began to step forward.

“Back in line.” His frown turned to a relieved smile as he made his way back to the line.

Everypony held their breath as Gordon Ramsay sighed a final time (dramatic effect takes a lot out of a guy). Everything stopped for the two on the chopping block as he put his hands together and prepared to point. “The one that is leaving Hell’s Kitchen is...”