You guys, I have roped myself into cooking dinner for a really good great chef. A semi-fucking-famous one to boot. Like, lived all over the world and cooked in crazy posh Michelin starred restos and hotels, cooked for royalty, had tv shows and everything kind of chef.

Please standby for freakout...

Freakout commencing on my mark...

Aaaaand mark:

WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO? WHAT THE FUCKITTY FUCK FUCK DO I EVEN MAKE? DOES IT EVEN MATTER BECAUSE NO MATTER WHAT IT’S GOING TO SUCK BALLS COMPARED TO WHAT THEY COULD MAKE, BLINDFOLDED, IN THEIR SLEEP, AND WITH LITERAL GARBAGE. THEY’RE GOING TO BE JUDGING ME I KNOW IT. HOW COULD THEY NOT? WHY DID I THINK I COULD DO THIS? I’M SO FRAKKED.

End freakout.

I want to back out, but I simply cannot. And like I totally know I’m a really good cook, but I’m an amateur. Bush league. I don’t even know where to start and I’ve only got a couple weeks to prepare.

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Maybe I’ll hire another chef to help me not suck? He can hide in the cupboards while the guest chef is here. Maybe they’ll cross paths on accident and there will be a chef fight in my kitchen because they are mortal enemies?

Yeah, that’s the ticket. Hire a chef to fight and distract my guest from my lousy cooking. Or maybe I’ll fake my own death?

What do I even make? I’m terrified. Terr.I.Fie.D.