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(LIGHTER CLICKS)

Babe.

Please don't smoke.
It'll kill your palate.

Then my palate
will die happy.

Hey.

Margot, tonight is
huge, okay?

The flavor profiles,
it's all super delicate.

When you smoke, you ruin
your ability to be able
to appreciate them.

(SCOFFS) Oh, come on!

Please. Please.

Fine. Jesus.

Thank you.
(SHIP HORN BLARES)

Oh! Thank God.

(INTRIGUING MUSIC PLAYING)

MARGOT:
Is that gonna fit
everyone?

TYLER: Yeah, easily.
Twelve customers total.

MARGOT: A night?

How do they
turn a profit?

TYLER: $1,250 a head.
That's how.

You're fucking
kidding, right?

What, are we eating
a Rolex?

Come on, let's not ruin this
by talking price, yeah?

Just go with the flow.

Let it be magical.

Hey, it's your dime.
Mmm.

BRYCE: Not bad!
DAVE: Oh, thanks, man.

SOREN:
You deserve this, baby.

You know who's
gonna love this?
Betty!

It's just a "fuck you"
to Accounts.

It's not even
a client dinner.

(LAUGHS) Fuck.
We're dicks, huh?

(GROANS) Great.
A power tasting.

They'll be wasted
by the amuse.

SOREN: Hi, guys.
DAVE: By boat.

How did you think we were
gonna get on the...

TED: Look at you
on a gangplank
in heels.

Fuck.

(MEN GRUNTING)

Holy fucking shit.

Lillian Bloom.
Oh, my God.

Who's Lillian Bloom?
(SHUSHES)

Food critic
for Saveur.

She basically
discovered Slowik.

Okay, well,
it's official.

Tonight will be
madness.

(TYLER CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

BOATMAN: All aboard
for Hawthorn!

Hawthorn! All aboard!

Wow.

CAPTAIN: (OVER PA SYSTEM)
Ladies and gentlemen,

please make yourselves
comfortable for our short
journey to Hawthorn Island.

Thank you.
GEORGE: Ahoy!

And avast,
me hearties!

Let's hope she's
seaworthy, eh?

Yes, sir. Yeah.

Boat... Boat jokes.

Yeah, yeah.
Boat, yeah.

We're on a boat.
Yeah. We're on a boat.

(ALL CHUCKLE)

SOREN: Hey, we got
a famous person
on board, huh?

BRYCE: FP in the house.

DAVE:
Barely F anymore, though.
It's not 1998.

BRYCE: He's a P,
and he's F.

Oh, my God.
Check it out.

GEORGE: Hey, aren't you
supposed to be running
interference for me?

Make sure
people don't bother me,
then?

God, we both know
you were not
bothered.

MARGOT:
I saw all his movies
when I was a kid.

FELICITY: Hey, listen.

Apparently, he's a big foodie.
You know, thinks he is.

WAITER: Chef Slowik
would like to welcome you

with a raw local oyster
in a mignonette emulsion,

with lemon caviar
and an oyster leaf.
Enjoy.

Beautiful. Thank you.
Thank you.

It's one of
his classics.
Mmm-mmm.

The lemon pearls
are made with alginate.

Alginate, as in, um...
(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)

As in algae.
Come on.

Right, yeah.

Pond scum.
It's not...

Delicious. (CHUCKLES)

(CHUCKLES HAPPILY)

Oh, my God.

It's laughable.

It's actually
fucking laughably
good.

It's good.
Mmm.

Think I prefer
just the oyster, though.
Love oysters.

No. No.
It's the balance of
the products.

You need the mouthfeel
of the mignonette.

Please don't say
"mouthfeel."

Too late. Mouthfeel.
(CHUCKLES)

(SHIP HORN BLARES)

(INTENSE CLASSICAL MUSIC
PLAYING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Hi.

LILLIAN: Thank you.

Jesus, this is
like prom.

Yeah?
I never went to prom.

Really? Why not?
(MUSIC FADES)

'Cause none of
the cool girls
like you said, "Yes."

Aw, poor baby.

Well, fuck those bitches.
(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

Bryce.
Welcome.

Welcome, Mr. Lorimer.

Hello. Felicity Lynn.
ELSA: Hello. Good evening.

And Damien Garcia.
ELSA: And Mr. George Diaz.

Mr. Diaz. Welcome.
You gave my real name?

Of course I gave them
your real name.

What about the paparazzi?
It's a pleasure to have you.

Paparazzi?
We're on an island.

Of course I gave them
your real name.

Welcome to Hawthorn.

Mr. Ledford and
Miss Westervelt?

(STUTTERS)
Oh, no. Um...

Sorry, yeah, no.
That was, uh...

That's not Miss...
She had
a change of plans,

so Miss Westervelt
couldn't...
This is Miss...

I'm Margot.

Hi. Nice to meet you.
(TYLER CLEARS THROAT)

Margot. Welcome.

We'll endeavor to make
your evening as pleasant
as possible.

Thanks.
Right this way.

Thanks.

Oh, my God.
I'm so sorry.

That was really awkward.
I'm sorry. That was not...

No, no. Fine.
(SIGHS)

Don't worry about it.

TYLER: (CLEARS THROAT) Sorry.

ELSA: Mr. Leibrandt.
Mrs. Leibrandt. Welcome.

RICHARD: We'll just go
straight to the restaurant,
if you don't mind.

ANNE: We've seen the tour
many, many times.

ELSA: Yes, yes, you have.

My esteemed guests
can continue
their conversation this way.

Thank you.
Please follow me.

So, like, what are you
working on now?

Oh, hey, thanks for asking.
See, people still know me.

I'm moving into the presenter
phase of my career.

You know? Do me.

ELSA: Hawthorn Island
comprises 12 acres
of forest and pasture.

We have the bounty
of the sea surrounding us.

Oh, yeah, right.

Out there, right now,
we are harvesting scallops.

You'll eat them tonight.

No, get out.
Oh, shoot!
Yes.

Hey! (LAUGHING)

Hey, harvest harder,
me dude!

We're starving!

(ALL LAUGHING)

Oh, my goodness.

I do like the sense of it
being a sort of biome
of culinary ideas.

Right.
Like, it functions like
an epicurean salon.

No, I like biome
better I think.

Biome's better. Yeah, yeah.
I mean, that's... Yeah.

MARGOT: We have reached
the base camp
of Mount Bullshit.

This is insane.
(CHUCKLES)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING)

Smell that.

BOTH: Mmm.

SOREN: We're gonna be hungry.

GEORGE: Yeah, I'm a huge
embarrassing foodie.

I love this stuff.

And I'm close, personal
friends with the chef.

SOREN: Okay, player.

ELSA: Our smokehouse
is in the Nordic tradition.

We use the meat
of dairy cows only,

which we age for
an astonishing 152 days to
relax the protein strands.

BRYCE: Ah, yes. Yes.
TED: Can we pop in here?

Dude, I read about one
of these online.
Oh, yeah? Can I check it out?

DAVE: Korean barbeque.
Yes.

But please,
do not touch our proteins.
They're immature.

So, what happens if
you serve it on
the 153rd day?

Does all
hell break loose,
or...

Well, I suppose the bacteria
would introduce itself

to the consumer's bloodstream
and spread into
their spinal membranes,

after which point, he or she
would become incapacitated

and shortly
thereafter expire.

So, yes,
all hell would
break loose.

(ALL CHUCKLE NERVOUSLY)

Good thing
we're pros, yes?

GEORGE:
I'd like to work
for her.

SOREN: Yeah.
DAVE: Cool.

ELSA:
This is where we live.

BRYCE: Yeah?
What, you actually
live here? All of you?

ELSA: All of us.

Except Chef.

Yeah, well...
LILLIAN: Oof.

Esprit de corps. No?

ELSA: No, Mr. Feldman.
It's very much more
than that.

Here we are family.

Each day starts at 6:00,
with five hours
of prep work.

We harvest.
We ferment.

We slaughter.
We marinate.

We liquify. We spherify.

We gel.

They, um... They "gel?"
Yeah.

We gel.

Dinner is typically
four hours and 25 minutes.

Each day ends at well past
2:00 in the morning.

So yes,
it's best that we all
live here.

You guys ever
get burned out,
or...

"Burned out?"
Yeah, sorry, sorry.

Like, tired of
doing the same
thing?

Chef holds himself to
the highest standard,
and so do we.

We never burn anything
unless by design,
to make delicious.

Now, who's hungry?

MARGOT: There is food
at the end of this, right?

TED: Boat food
to dinner table.

Elsa.

Excuse me.

Elsa. Elsa, hi.

Uh, who lives there?

Chef.

Oh, can we
see that?

Even we are not allowed inside
Chef's cottage, Mr. Ledford.

MARGOT: (SHUSHES) Come on.

We mustn't disturb
the Lord High
Emperor of Sustenance.

Yeah, all right.

Isn't the GOAT
the greatest of
all time, though?

No, no, no.
Back in the day...

GEORGE:
You think he'd pick
that big guy?

(INDISTINCT CHATTER AND
LAUGHTER)

So, I think that maybe
we'll just time the post.

Oh, yeah?
Bring you to
the best spots?

FELICITY: Yes, well,
I book the best spots.

So you tell me.
GEORGE: With my name.

FELICITY: Well, I...

Hi, again.

BRYCE: Gentlemen, parfait?

FELICITY:
Oh! Look at that view.

Wanna take a picture?

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

SOREN:
Where we going, chief?

Here.
Switch seats with me.

Miss...
Mills.

Ms. Mills. You will be sitting
in Miss Westervelt's seat.

RICHARD: Just...
You should have
the better view.

ANNE: Well, I don't...
(STUTTERS)

I don't need
a better view.

RICHARD: No,
I'm gonna look
at the kitchen.

MARGOT: Thank you!
RICHARD: The rose,
we'll get first.

Enjoy.

ELSA: Feel free to observe
the cooks as they innovate.

But please,
do not photograph
our dishes.

Chef strongly feels that
the beauty in his creations

lies in their
ephemeral nature.

Here, come on.
We can't miss this.

MARGOT: Oh. Um...

Do you make that
with a Pacojet?

Exactly right, sir.
Mmm.

You know, a Pacojet can
produce a powderized,
uh, snow-like texture.

Cool.
Yeah. I have one.

You really know
your stuff, Mr. Ledford.

You know my name?

Oh, we like to know
everyone who dines
with us.

And Chef, is he around
here somewhere?
I'd love to talk with him.

Why don't you
take your seat?

We're about to serve.

Oh, right.
Yeah, okay.
Thank you.

TYLER: Wow.
More Lambrusco, madam?

TYLER: Well, the attention
to detail, it's like, fuck!

And he knew
my name, babe!

Yeah. I noticed
you didn't ask
his name.

Yeah, well, you know.

(SHUSHES)

TYLER: There he is.

Fuck me.
Is he looking at me?

(UNSETTLING MUSIC PLAYING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

TED: Bland?
You call that bland?
LILLIAN: Well, it is bland.

SOREN:
You like the winter,
don't you?

DAVE: I don't actually...
SOREN: Fucking freak.

SERVER: Here we have
a compressed and
pickled cucumber melon,

milk snow, and charred lace.

SOREN: Thanks.
Enjoy.

Oh! This ongoing
obsession with snow.

It's officially a plague,
and no one is immune.

Can you taste
a little goat?

Right at the end.
A little kid.

She said milk.

I wonder.

She did not say
of what species.
TED: She did not.

FELICITY: I want to hear
your pitch for the show,

but first I would like
to say "thank you"

for the last two years.
(PHONE CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)

FELICITY:
This opportunity has
been, uh...

GEORGE:
The best of your life?

Let's have to many,
many, many more.

Come on. I'm trying to do a
goodbye toast. Can you please
just let me do that?

No, it ain't.
No, it ain't.
Yes, it is.

I'm starting a new position.
Oh, my God!

FELICITY:
My mom got me a job
at Sony.

I told you this
two weeks ago.

Here's my,
uh, work phone.

Here's the production
company's credit card.

What are you doin'?
Non-transferrable.

And here is the key to your
house in LA...

I don't have pockets.
...your apartment in New York

and your other apartment
in New York that your wife
doesn't know about.

BRYCE: How's Amanda?

FELICITY: Take it because
I won't be there on Monday.

(CHUCKLES)
We're doing this?

The "talking about our lives"
thing?

Is that it? We're close?
Hey, I don't want to either.

But shouldn't we?
DAVE: Well, do we have to?

Well, not good, Bryce.
Okay?

Me and Amanda
are not good.
It's not good.

BRYCE:
Are you at fault?

No, it was her fault.
She made me
text her coworker.

Yeah, fucking of course
it's my fault, bro.

I'm an asshole.

Well, at least
we have work.

DAVE: And money.
To work and money.

DAVE: Yeah, baby.
Yeah, baby.

We're pathetic,
aren't we?

SOREN: Oh, my God, dude.
Somebody, shoot us.

(BOTH SPEAKING SPANISH)

FELICITY: (IN ENGLISH)
No, I'm not gonna have...

Jesus Christ. I want to live
inside this thing.

Mmm. So it's okay that I'm not
as into this as you are?

Oh, no, no. It's good.

I'm sitting
with the coolest
girl here.

Okay, so what is it
with this food thing?

I don't know. It's like,
you know how people idolize,

you know, athletes,
and musicians,

and painters, and stuff?
Mmm-hmm.

Yeah, those people are idiots.
What they do,
it doesn't matter.

They play
with inflatable balls
and ukuleles and shit.

Chefs,

they play with
the raw materials
of life itself.

And death itself. It's...

I mean, I've watched every
fucking episode of Chef's
Table two or three times.

I've watched Slowik's
20 times.

I've watched him explain
the exact moment

a green strawberry
is perfectly unripe.

I've watched him plate
a raw scallop

during its last
dying contraction
of muscle.

It's art on the edge
of the abyss,

which is where
God works, too.
It's the same.

That was
beautifully put, Tyler.

Stop. Don't. No.
No! I'm being serious.

I think I'm, um,
starting to get it.

Really?
Yeah. A little.

(BELL DINGS)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

Okay.

Yes, Chef.

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

(CLASSICAL MUSIC FADES)

SLOWIK: Good evening.

Good evening.

Good evening. Hello.
GEORGE: Hello.

Welcome to Hawthorn.

I am Julian Slowik,

and tonight it'll be
our pleasure to feed you.

The curtain rises.

SLOWIK:
Over the next few hours
you will ingest fat,

salt, sugar, protein,

bacteria, fungi,

various plants and animals,

and, at times,
entire ecosystems.

But I have to
beg of you one thing.

It's just one.

Do not eat.

Is he serious?

Taste.

Savor.

Relish.

Consider every morsel that you
place inside your mouth.

Be mindful.

But do not eat.

Our menu is too precious
for that. (CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

And look around you.

Here we are on this island.

Accept.

Accept all of it.

And forgive.

And on that note,

food!

GEORGE: Yeah, yeah.
Bring it, bring it.

Here they come.

LILLIAN: Oh, wow.
It's like a marching band.

SLOWIK: Our first course
is called "The Island."

On your plate are plants
from around the island,

placed on rocks
from the shore,

covered in barely frozen,
filtered seawater

which will flavor the dish
as it melts.

You know, this is what the guy
was fishing for earlier...

SLOWIK: Sorry?

TYLER: Um...

Sorry, Chef.

It's perfectly all right.
Yes, they are those
very same scallops.

Now, here is what you must
remember about this dish.

We, the people on this island,
are not important.

The island and the nutrients
it provides exist
in their most perfect state

without us gathering them
or manipulating them,
or digesting them.

What happens
inside this room
is meaningless

compared to what happens
outside in nature,

in the soil, in the water,

in the air.

We are but a frightened
nanosecond.

Nature is timeless.

Enjoy.

(GUESTS CLAPPING)

That's a cheery thought.

(SNIFFLES)

Are you crying?

It's just that
I find it all
very moving.

It's all so beautiful.
I just...

It's almost too beautiful
to eat.

(PHONE CAMERA SHUTTER
CLICKING)
MARGOT: You know,

the nicest restaurant
in my hometown was...

You don't think Chef's
mad at me, right?

For the scallop thing?

You don't have to call him
"Chef," Tyler.

I'm pretty sure
he doesn't even know
about your existence.

I kind of want him to...

Like you? (CHUCKLES)
Yeah. Kinda.

Tyler, you're
the customer.

You're paying him
to serve you.

It doesn't really matter
whether he likes you or not.

Right. Wait.
What does that
mean?

Mmm. Nothing.

Relax.
Just eat your rock.

And to pair, from our friends
at Caroline Morey,

a Chassagne-Montrachet

premier cru from 2014.

Not just a single vineyard.

A single row of vines.

Wow. Perfect.
It's magical.

TED: Thoughts? I'm really
feeling this is quite...

It's half-great.
It's there in moments.

There in moments.

There's a neediness
to the plating, you know.

I mean,
it's been tweezered
to fuck.

But the flavors are there.
It's very clean.

It's very, um, thalassic.

"Thalassic?"
Oceanic.

Thalassa was the primeval
spirit of the sea.

Oh, Thalassa and Pontus.

Yes, yes, yes.
Correct. So, we are...

We're eating the ocean.

We're eating the ocean.

Yeah.
Yes.

FELICITY: How is it?
Mmm.

It's good.

You can't just say "good"
for the show. You have to...

You have to embellish.

Oh, my God.
For crying out loud.
It's not brain surgery, okay?

It's a goddamn
travel-food show.
I know. Okay, so then, do it.

Yeah, yeah.
So pitch it to me.

Okay, so we
go to Italy, right?
FELICITY: Mmm-hmm.

We shoot me in capri pants
on a pastel green Vespa,

driving around to get to some
Giuseppe's farm with cheese.

I eat the cheese,
and then...

There's a close-up of me.

And I close my eyes,
and I fake an orgasm,
and then off to South Africa,

and then, I maybe...
I talk about how racism
is not so cool,

and bingo bongo,
Emmy time.

That's it?
Okay? Can I eat now?

That's what you're gonna pitch
to three streaming services on
Monday?

Yeah. Pretty much.
That's that.

Yeah. Jesus fucking Christ.
That's a disaster.

I don't think you can go
to South Africa with a DUI.

SOREN: You like this?
The otter food?

Yeah. It's solid.

SOREN: I mean,
I've had shellfish
just as good

with my chef at home, Ricardo.
You know Ricardo.
He's amazing.

BRYCE: Incredible.
SOREN: Whatever.

At least we can say
we've been here, right?

My dad used to say
that you buy the experience.

RICHARD:
I mean, this looks like
a suburban landscaping.

What the fuck?

I saw Perry
at DeLaurenti's
the other day.

Oh?

How is he?

You know...

Perry.

Thank you.

SLOWIK:
I want plating in five!

COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

(BELL DINGS)

(CLAPS)

Is he gonna
keep doing that?

Bread has existed in some form
for over 12,000 years,

especially amongst the poor.

Flour and water.

What could be simpler?

Even today, grain represents
65% of all agriculture.

Fruits and vegetables only 6%.

Ancient Greek peasants dipped
their stale, measly bread in
wine for breakfast.

And how did Jesus
teach us to pray

if not to beg for
our daily bread?
Beg for our daily bread.

It is, and has always been,
the food of the common man.

But you, my dear guests,
are not the common man.

And so tonight...

...you get no bread.

(BELL DINGS)

LILLIAN: He must be joking.
TED: He's joking.

(GUESTS LAUGH)

This is next-level.
FELICITY: How are you
not gonna...

Wow, he's not kidding.

Not gonna serve bread at a
restaurant known for their
bread. That's sweet.

What?
ANNE: Thank you.

It's not a fake-out,
is it?

What?
TED: No.

It's gotta be a bit.

Are you fuckin' serious?

SLOWIK: In this spirit,

please enjoy the unaccompanied
accompaniments.

FELICITY: "The bread
you will not be eating tonight

"was made from
a heritage wheat
called red fife,

"crafted with our partners
at the Tehachapi Grain Project

"devoted to preserving
heirloom grains."

This is insane.
GEORGE: Mmm!

I gotta say that
the shit around the total
absence of the bread

is, like, really good.

I mean, it's a little
outrageous, isn't it?

It's fiendish, really.

I mean, he's always been
keenly aware of food
as a history of class...

I mean, as have I.

Sure.

Though I will say that
this emulsion does look
slightly split.

TED: Yeah.

I mean, I wasn't gonna say
anything. I noticed as soon
as it came down.

It's broken.
It's broken.

Yeah, which is really...
I mean, you really...

You really shouldn't see that
in a restaurant
of this quality. There it is.

Well, there it is.
Yeah.

Oh, my God. I mean,
it's next-level badassery.

The way he weaves in
historical allegories.

I mean,
the game is trying to guess
what the overarching theme

of the entire meal
is gonna be.

You won't know
until the end.

Wait. You...
You like this?

Mmm-hmm. Oh, yeah.

He's basically
insulting you.

No, no, no.
You don't get it.

It's a concept.

I know what
a concept is, Tyler.

Trust me.
He's telling a story.

That's what makes
his food so exciting.

He's not just a chef.
He's a storyteller.

And he doesn't give a fuck
about the rules.

Call me the girl next door,
but maybe there are some rules

that you should give a fuck
about, like, I don't know,

giving food to people
at a restaurant.

Dearest, no one would ever
call you the girl next door.

LILLIAN: I make my own bread.

You do?
I didn't know that.
Yeah.

Oh, yeah.
I mean, it's very rustic.

It's peasant style.
Yeasty.

What kind of yeast
are you using?

Oh, I make
my own from apples.

Well, of course you make
your own yeast from apples.

You wicked thing.
(ELSA CLEARS THROAT)

ELSA: Ms. Bloom?
Mmm?

ELSA:
Here is another broken
emulsion.

Courtesy of Chef Slowik.

(AMUSING MUSIC PLAYING)

SOREN: Hello.
BRYCE: Excuse me.

Is everything
to your liking, sir?

Well, actually, no.
Thanks for asking.

Uh, I mean, look,
the food's great

and we totally
get all the conceptual stuff.

But could we please
get a little bread?

You know, and some gluten-free
for my friend as well?

No.
(AMUSING MUSIC STOPS)

"No?"

No.

(CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY)
Okay.

This is all very clever, and I
didn't want to pull this card,

but you know
who we are, right?

Yes.

You do?
You know who we are?

I know who you are.

Mmm-hmm.
Then you know we work
with Doug Verrick, right?

No, you work
for Mr. Verrick.

Exactly.
Oh, fuck it.

And so you know,
we all play
on the same team.

So, just slip us
a little bread.

Please.
We won't tell a soul, lady.

I promise, okay?
No.

(SOREN SIGHS)
Did you say, "No?"

I said, "No." Yes.

Okay.
Okay.

Wow.
Okay.

That will be all, though.
Thanks.

May I?

You don't have to do...
Okay.

(WHISPERING) You will eat
less than you desire

and more than you deserve.

It's a pleasure
to serve you.

TED:
Well, I remain in ketosis,
so that's good news.

TYLER: Without the bread,
it really focuses you.

It's so fucking good.
Embalm me in this.

Are you not gonna try it?
No.

No?
No.

This is great stuff.

I'll take it and eat it.
Yeah, go for it.

(ALL GASP)

TYLER: That was a total
accident.

It happens to the best
of us.

TYLER: I'm...

I'm sorry. That was...

No, I'm so sorry.

You haven't
touched your food.

There...

There is no food.

Well, no.
This is food.

So, um, lots more
food to come.

Don't wanna fill up.
That would not be possible.

I've precisely designed
the portions
to account for that.

So, (CHUCKLES)
you won't fill up.

Please eat.

The menu only
makes sense if you eat.

But you told us
not to eat.

That is not
what I meant, madam.
And you know it.

Well, thank you
for your concern,

but I am perfectly capable
of deciding
when I eat and what.

Thank you.

Christ, that was
humiliating.

MARGOT: "Humiliating?"
TYLER: Yeah.

MARGOT:
Tyler, the guy is a prick.

TYLER: Please don't.

You shouldn't be
so fucking rude.

MARGOT: What?
TYLER: He asked you to eat.

MARGOT: I don't like it.
TYLER: Just try it.

Please.

(SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING)

Plating in three, my friends!

COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

(CLASSICAL MUSIC FADES)

SOMMELIER: That's a 2013
Pinot Noir from Ross Cobb.

We hyper-decanted it
with an immersion blender

to awaken it
from its slumber.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

Slavonian oak, rich cherry
and tobacco notes,

and a faint sense
of longing and regret.

Yes. Enjoy.
MARGOT: Longing and regret.

My favorite.

ANNE: She's staring again.

Where do we know her from?

We don't.

Well, she really
does look like Claire.

Why do you keep
saying that?
She doesn't.

You don't think so?

She's nothing
like our Claire.

That same faraway face.

Can we not obsess?
Please?

I know. Hypothetically,
if you were leaving...

FELICITY: Right.
...which you're not...

FELICITY: Mmm-hmm.
...what would you
be leaving for?

Associate Development Co-Exec.

And what the hell is that?

It's in development, so I'd be
developing or helping
to develop things...

Why would that be better
than working for me?

Well, because there's
a future there.

It's a corporate...
Right. Right.

A different kind of future.
Does that make sense?

At the corporate...

Thank God it's all
just hypothetical anyway.

(SLOWIK CLAPS)

The next course is called
"Memory."

And that is what
it's meant to evoke.

A memory.

So, let me tell you
a memory of mine.

When I was growing up,
a child in Waterloo, Iowa,

Tuesday was taco night.

GEORGE: Oh, yeah!

Taco Tuesday!

GEORGE: Yeah!
(GUESTS LAUGH)

And this, here,
this lady here.

This is my mother.

(GUESTS EXCLAIM)

As you can see,
she's rather drunk.

(GUESTS CHUCKLE)
This is not unusual.

When I was seven years old,

one Tuesday, my father
came home quite drunk.

Really drunk.

Also, not unusual.

My mother grew angry and
screamed at him,

at which point,
he proceeded to
wrap a telephone cord

around her neck
and pull it tight.

I wept.

I screamed,
I begged him to stop.

To make him stop,

I finally had to
stab him in the thigh
with kitchen scissors.

You remember that,
Mother, don't you?

Now, I suppose I should've
stabbed him in the throat
that evening.

But we're not so smart
when we're young.

It was, as you can imagine,

as a very memorable
taco night.

GEORGE:
Oh, thank God he didn't.

I mean,
what the fuck was that?

Theatrical.
FELICITY: You liked that?

Yeah, it's a backstory to what
makes him a chef artist.

Dude, that guy's got some
really dark sense
of humor, bro.

GEORGE:
He's such
an intense dude.

SLOWIK: So, here you have

house-smoked Bresse
chicken thigh al pastor

and our own tortillas
made with heirloom masa,

one of Hawthorn's signature
dishes.
Thank you.

SLOWIK: We change our menu
constantly, but,
as Ms. Bloom knows,

this has been
a staple since day one.

It's what you once said...

Put you on the map.

SLOWIK: Put me on the map.

Precisely what map would that
be...

I wonder.

Anyways, because we're always
innovating, and we fear
irrelevance,

an update to a classic.

The images on the tortillas
have been made using a
laser-engraving machine.

It's the first time we've used
it.

We hope this taco night evokes
strong memories for us all.

Enjoy.

(LILLIAN CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

Well, of course he had
to do a taco.

TED: Here you are.

What are they, Lil?

LILLIAN:
They're restaurants.

Um...

That I reviewed
that all closed.

TED: Oh!

Like a gag, then?

LILLIAN: Um, I think so.

ANNE: Richard, what are these?

Taco things.
For the tacos.

No, the pictures.
They're all of us.

This one is after you had
the melanoma removed
from your forehead.

There's the bandage.

Isn't that nice?
They remembered us.

MARGOT: Tyler, is that you?

Yeah. They're all me from
tonight taking fucking photos.

(TYLER SIGHS)
Jesus Christ,
what's with this guy?

I knew it.
He hates me.

God damn it.
I didn't think
he'd really mind.

Should I apologize?
Apologize for what?

GEORGE: Oh... (LAUGHS)
FELICITY: What?

Calling Doctor Sunshine.

Oh, my God. I forgot
about that one. (LAUGHS)

Dumb part. Bad script.

Fun shoot, though.

Hmm. Maybe it's a joke
'cause you're friends, right?

Yeah, yeah,
you know, friends.

I mean, you know,
do I have any friends?

SOREN: Wait. Um...

(STAMMERS)
Hey, guys,
what the fuck?

DAVE: Are these...

How did they get these?

It's not good.

BRYCE: Uh, excuse me.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Can I help you, sir?
(CLEARS THROAT)

Yeah. What...

What the hell are these?

These are tortillas.

(SPEAKING SPANISH)

(IN ENGLISH)
Yes, and what are
these?

These are tortillas

which contain EchoBrite's tax
records and other documents,

showing how your company
has created invoices
with fake charges.

How did you get these?

I'm sorry, but Chef
never reveals his recipes.

(SCOFFS) Do you know
how fucked you are?

We'll have this place
closed by the morning.
Do you understand?

Oh, no, that won't
be necessary.

Enjoy.

ANNE: And this is you and...

Who is that woman?

Uh...

(SCOFFS)

Well, how the hell
should I know?
It's faked.

It's some sort
of stupid joke.

SOREN: It's a fucking taco,
okay? It can't hurt you.

Yeah, a fucking taco
that might hold up in court.

We have plausible deniability,
and if they try to
turn us in...

SOREN: (SNAPS FINGERS) Right!

If they turn us in,
they'd be turning Verrick in.

And then they'd be
just as fucked as we are.

Right? So, we're fine.

Right?

Yeah, we're good.
We're fine. Yeah, fuck it.

They can't take your
photograph without your
consent. This is insane.

Stop talking and
let me think,
okay?

I have to make this right
somehow. I have to.

Well, I'll tell you
how you make
it right.

You send this shit back.
Excuse me.

Excuse me! Sir, hi.
Hey. Margot! Margot!

Did you just fucking
snap at me?

Do you know how long I've been
trying to get a reservation
here?

No, and I don't
really care.

You do not send shit back
to this kitchen, you child.

You thank them for
even letting you in the door.

What did you just call me?
I called you a child

because you're
fucking acting
like it.

Tyler, you need to apologize
to me right now.

You cannot speak
to me that way.

Actually, I can because,
ding dong,
I'm the one who's paying.

So maybe, shut up and eat.

Mmm. Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

This is incredible.
You have to try this.

No, thanks.
Don't let me
interrupt.

Miss Mills?

How can I assist you?

Just looking for
the ladies' room.

Right this way.

Thank you.

What's behind
that silver door?

Something very special.

(DOOR LOCK CLICKS)

(LIGHTER CLICKS)

(DOOR UNLOCKING)

No, you can't...

(DOOR CLOSES, LOCK CLICKS)

You shouldn't be in here.

I'd like
to know specifically
what it was

about the last course
that you did not enjoy.

You've barely
eaten the food.

Why?

I need to know.
Why don't you eat?

Why do you care?

I take my work very seriously,
and you're not eating.

And that wounds me.

I guess I'm just
not very hungry.

I've told you who I am.

I'm Julian Slowik,
and I am the chef here.

Now, who are you?

I'll ask again.
Who are you?

I'm Margot Mills.

So, where are
you from, Margot?

I'm from Grand Island,
Nebraska.

Now, does that
make you feel better?

You want the address for Mom's
trailer park, you asshole?

No, it's not who you want me
to think you are.

Who are you?

I am Margot.

You shouldn't
be here tonight.

Please get the fuck
out of my way.

(EERIE MUSIC PLAYING)

(DOOR OPENS, CLOSES)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Still very theatrical,
but minimalist,

like the Japanese,
the "minimirasuto" style.

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

LILLIAN: But he was being
playful, right?

TED: Yes.

LILLIAN: I mean,
let's talk about the tacos.

It's a dialogue.
It's playful.

(SLOWIK CLAPS)

I'm excited.

We're ready for
our next course,

which I think you'll find...
Excuse me.

But what the hell is
going on here?

Would you just let me finish,
please? That okay?

Thank you.

Ladies and gentlemen, please
meet sous-chef Jeremy Louden.

(CLAPPING)

Jeremy created
the next dish.

It's called "The Mess."

Originally from
Sparks, Nevada,

Jeremy studied at the Culinary
Institute in Hyde Park.

Jeremy's goal, as he wrote
in a heartfelt letter,

was to work for me
here at Hawthorn.

Isn't that right, Jeremy?

Yes, Chef.
(CLICKS TONGUE)

Jeremy is talented.

He's good.

He's very good.
(SNIFFLES)

(CLICKS TONGUE)
But he's not great.

He'll never be great.

He desperately wants
my prestige,
my job, my talent.

He aspires to greatness,
but he'll never achieve it.

Correct, Jeremy?

Yes, Chef.

Like me at his age,

Jeremy has forsaken everything
to achieve his goals.

Like mine,
his life is pressure.

Pressure to put out
the best food in the world.

And even when all goes right,
and the food is perfect,

and the customers are happy,
and the critics are, too,

there is no way
to avoid the mess.

The mess you make
of your life,

of your body,
of your sanity,

by giving everything you have
to pleasing people you will
never know.

Jeremy...

...do you like this life?

This life that you
dreamed about?

No, Chef.
Mmm-hmm.

And do you
want my life?

Not my position,
nor my talent.

My life.

No, Chef.
(BREATH TREMBLING)

(KISSES)

Ladies and gentlemen,
your fourth course,

sous-chef Jeremy's The Mess.
(CLAPPING)

(GUN FIRES)
(GUESTS SCREAM)

GEORGE: Fuck!
(SINISTER MUSIC PLAYING)

ANNE: Oh, God!

SOREN: What are you doing?

What's wrong with you?

LILLIAN: The fuck is that?

That was a shock.
I didn't see that comin'.

SOREN: What the fuck, man?

SLOWIK: Please. Sit. Sit.

SOMMELIER: Everything's fine.
SLOWIK: Please, it's all fine.

What happened?
It's just part of the menu.

It's part of the show.
It's a show?

GEORGE: That's a show?
That's not...

This is what
you're paying for.

GEORGE: That's a stunt?
(STUTTERS) What was that?

SLOWIK:
This is an exclusive
experience.

Please just...
SOREN: What the fuck, man?

...return to your seats.

Thank you so much.

DAVE: Is he dead?

FELICITY: It's definitely
a squib or a packed...

Stay right there.
Can I invite you

to sit down, please?
FELICITY: I've seen them

use it before.
DAVE: It's not funny.

What the fuck?

Is this real?
BRYCE: What is happening?

GEORGE: It looks so damn real.
LILLIAN: No, no, no.

This is just theater, right?

SOREN: What the fuck
are you talking about, lady?

He just fucking shot himself,
okay?

TED: It looked very real,
Lillian. Quite real.

This is...
This is just theater.
It's stagecraft.

Is it really?

LILLIAN: Yeah.
This is what he does.

It's part of the menu.

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

Eat!
(GASPS)

Enjoy.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

Fifth course on order.

COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

Tyler, what the hell
is going on?

SOMMELIER: And here we have
a biodynamic Cabernet Franc

from our friends
at Domaine Breton.

It has no added sulfites,
a bit of barnyard funk,

and just a wonderful match
with roasted proteins. Enjoy.

We're leaving. Now.
(STUTTERS) But I have to
get my wrap.

Forget your wrap. Get up.
But I...

ELSA: Mr. Leibrandt?

We're leaving.
Is something wrong?

We're leaving.

There is no boat
to leave on.

Then I'll call
a helicopter.

That would be very difficult
without phone service.

Fucking move.

Jesus.
Just do what they say,
for God's sake!

I'll handle this.

Just let me handle this.
With which hand,
Mr. Leibrandt?

What?

With which hand will you
handle this? Left or right?

What the fuck
are you saying?

Shall we choose?

RICHARD: Choose what?

Very well.
Left hand.

Ring finger.

Let me out!
Let me out!

No!

(RICHARD WHIMPERS)
GEORGE: Come on. Come on.

Leave the guy alone.
What the fuck are you doing?

SOREN: Come on. Easy. Easy!
Leave him alone!

GEORGE:
Leave the old guy alone!

Mr. Leibrandt, please
hold still.

(CLEAVER THUDS)
(SCREAMS)

(GUESTS SCREAM)
(SCREAMS)

(GUESTS GASP)

What the fuck
are you doing?

ANNE: Richard!
(RICHARD CRYING IN PAIN)

Richard!

Please stay seated.

(RICHARD CONTINUES CRYING)

Please stay seated.

FELICITY: What the...

GEORGE:
What the hell's goin' on?
Get a doctor for him.

Do you need assistance finding
your seat?

There's a finger. The finger.
There's a finger right there.

The man is screamin' in pain!

SLOWIK: Please, sit.

Sir?

SOREN: It's not funny, lady!
Jesus Christ!

It's all part of the menu.
(LILLIAN LAUGHING)

LILLIAN: Oh, my God!

This is real, isn't it?
I can't do it.

I can't do
a hostage thing.
I can't.

Then why don't you
go talk to him?

Go talk to him!
Because you know him, right?

I made that up.

Why?

Because I'm a name-dropping
whore. That's why, okay?

(RICHARD CRYING IN PAIN)

ELSA:
Your husband's ring,
madam.

Thank you.
You're welcome.

LILLIAN: Ted. Ted!

I honestly think
that this whole thing
is just for our benefit.

I mean, us.

That's why he texted me.
And this is incredible.
Right?

The acting
is astonishing.

What the fuck
are you talkin'
about?

Chef Slowik would like
to see you in the kitchen.

TYLER: Can I come, too?
ELSA: No.

No, no, I'm sorry,
but you're
all wrong.

(CHUCKLES)
Why are you doing this?

You're just simply wrong.

What are you
talking about?

Who are you?

Margot.

My name is Margot.

I've served many Margots.
You're not a Margot.

No.
What the fuck does it matter?

It matters because this menu,
this guest list,

this entire evening
has been painstakingly
planned.

And you were not
a part of that plan.

And it's spoiling everything.

In order to proceed,
I have to know
where to seat you.

With us, or with them?

It's really...
It's very important.

And then you'll
let me live?

Let you live? No!

Of course not.

Can't you see that
that would ruin the menu?

We're all gonna die tonight.

Isn't that right?

COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

So, the question is,

do you wanna die
with those who give,
or with those who take?

But I die either way?

It's arbitrary.

No, it's not arbitrary.
Nothing in this kitchen
is arbitrary.

Please pick.

These decisions
are important,
and, uh,

our menu is
strictly timed.

In 15 minutes,

I'll take a break between
courses, and that is how long
you have to decide.

It's our side or theirs.

(TIMER TICKING)

In the meantime,
please return to your seat.

The next dish
is exquisite.

Plating in five!
COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

I love you all.
COOKING TEAM: We love you,
too, Chef!

(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)

TYLER: Fuck!
He offer you a kitchen course?

All right, what was it?
Protein or veg?

Protein or veg? Hmm?

God damn it.
It's not fucking fair.

Why do you get
a kitchen course?

You smoke all day.
Can't even
fucking taste it.

(BREATH TREMBLING)

BRYCE: We're cornered.
Let's focus.

Wait, what's the play here?
What are our options?

DAVE: The door is guarded,
but it could be a play.

BRYCE: Yeah.

Has anybody seen
down the hallway
if we can...

Hey, guys.
We gotta do something, and
we can't be cowards.

This worked in a movie
I did called The Assault.

When they bring their knives
and forks, we just storm their
kitchen, okay?

You think we have
better knife skills than them?

GEORGE:
What other choice
do we have?

DAVE: I don't
fuckin' know, man.

BRYCE: So what, then?
We...

Fuck it. I'm gonna break
this fucking window.

GEORGE: Yeah! Go for it!
Go for it!
(YELLS)

(MUFFLED YELLING)

(YELLING)

Fuck!

Please let me help you
back to your table.

Fuck.

I'm sorry, man.

(CLAPS)

God.
SOREN: Fuck.

SLOWIK: There's a saying.

"Sometimes all you need
is a good cup of tea."

I learned that growing up
in Bratislava.

I've found that not only
does tea cleanse the palate,

but it offers a soothing balm
when facing
some hard home truths.

But before we continue,

are there any questions
about me or Hawthorn?

Any questions?

(COUGHS)

Is this bergamot
I'm getting, Chef?

Yes, it is.

GEORGE: (CLEARS THROAT) Chef?
Yes?

Uh, I think I speak for
everybody here when
I say that, uh...

I wanna know...
I mean, we wanna
know...

Why the fuck
is this happening,
man?

Well, I'll tell you.
Think of yourselves as
ingredients

in a degustation concept.

What?
SLOWIK: A tasting concept.

Figuratively speaking.
(CHUCKLES)

I think that is the best way
to describe it.

But none of this should be
a surprise to most of you.

Ms. Bloom.

Lillian, if I may,
my cherished early advocate

knows the damage she has done
to so many livelihoods.

No, no, no.
(STUTTERS) Hang on,
Chef.

SLOWIK: No, no, no.
No, you don't talk.

TED: I'm sorry, Chef.

You submitted
to an interview

with Lillian Bloom.
SLOWIK: What? What?

And that interview
created this restaurant.

You enable her filth.
You enable her filth.

You buttress.

You coddle.

SERVER:
More broken emulsion,
madam.

SLOWIK: You loved that
I texted you an invitation
for this evening.

Me yearning
for your attendance.
(SCOFFS)

Your ego was fed.
But that is to be expected.

And no, you've fed
my ego as well.

Ten minutes, Ms. Mills.

Please. My... My husband
needs to go to the hospital.

I'm fine.
Just let my wife go.

My loyal regulars.

How many times have you eaten
here in the last five years?

I don't know.
Six or seven?

I think it's more than that,
Dick.
Eleven. Eleven times.

Most people consider
themselves blessed if they
eat here only once.

(SIGHS)

Mr. Leibrandt,
kindly name one dish
you ate

the last time
you were here.

(CLICKS TONGUE)

Eleven times
you take the boat
out here

where we introduce every dish
every single time.

We tell you exactly
what we're feeding you.

Please tell me
one dish you ate
the last time you were here.

Or the time before.

One. Please.

(WHISPERS) Cod.
What?

Cod.

Cod.

It wasn't cod,
you donkey.

It was halibut.

Rare, fucking spotted halibut.

What does it matter?

It matters to
the halibut, Mrs. Leibrandt.

And to the artist whose work
turns to shit inside your gut.

(CLICKS TONGUE)

I've allowed my work
to reach the price point

where only the class of people
in this room can access it.

And I've been fooled
into trying to satisfy

people who could never
be satisfied.

Starting with her.

But that's our culture,
isn't it?

And my restaurant is
part of the problem.

You say it's your restaurant.

But if we're all just bein'
honest tonight, it's not.

You're right.
Doug Verrick is my
angel investor.

He owns this island
and this restaurant.

And since Hawthorn
is my entire life,

I would have to say
that Doug Verrick owns me.

Except now things are
a little more complicated,

and I own Doug Verrick.

(LAUGHING)
(EERIE CHORAL MUSIC PLAYING)

(GROANING)

BRYCE: Oh, Jesus.
MARGOT: Oh, my God.

BRYCE: Holy shit.

SOREN: Hey, hey.
How do we stop
this, man?

No.
Okay? Just please
just make it stop.

Just fuckin' tell us
how to stop this.
We'll stop it, okay?

SLOWIK: You can't stop it.
Obviously, we have money.

Just say how much,
and we'll give it to you!

Just say a fucking
number, man!

SLOWIK: No.
I don't need your
money.

(DAVE WHIMPERS)

(GROANS)

He kept you open
through COVID,
you prick!

SLOWIK: Yes, he did.
And he questioned my menu.

He would even request
substitutions despite
the fact that

there are no substitutions
at Hawthorn!

Fallen angel, please.

DOUG: No! No, no!

BRYCE: What the hell?

SOREN: No.
SLOWIK: Listen.

This is fucking...
I said, "Listen."

DOUG: No! Julian!

SOREN: This is fuckin' insane.
I said, "Listen."

FELICITY: No...

SLOWIK: (SHUSHES) Listen.
SOREN: No, no.
This is fuckin' insane.

SLOWIK: No, I said, "Listen!"

Just listen!
(GUESTS GASPING)

Yeah.

(MUFFLED SCREAMING)

Do you hear?

And...

And...

...under he goes, and...

...quiet.
(TIMER TICKING)

Do you hear it?

Do you hear that silence?
Listen, can you hear it?

That silence means...

I'm free.

(TIMER RINGING)
(FELICITY GASPS)

ELSA: Time's up, Ms. Mills.

Chef will speak with you now
in his office.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

Come in.

You've made your decision?

I have.
And what have you decided?

That you were right.

I shouldn't be here.

And I say this
with respect,

because I'm sure
that you're quite brilliant,

but, um, all of this is not
meant for me.

You're not sure I'm brilliant,
so don't say it. It's false.

Fine.

I'm not sure that you're
brilliant.

Oh, I was expecting more.

Fuck you!

I guess I'm gonna have to make
your decision for you.

You belong here
with your own breed.

And what breed is that?

With the shit shovelers.

You thought I couldn't tell?

Oh, I know a fellow
service industry worker
when I see one.

Mr. Leibrandt.
How do you know
him?

You've been eyeing him
all evening.

Well, I think you know.
No, I don't.

So, he paid
for an experience.

And I can tell,
as one provider
of experiences to another,

that you don't
rattle easily.

So, how did he rattle you?
(SCOFFS)

He didn't rattle...
Margot.

He told me to agree
with everything he said

and continue eye contact
while he jerked off.

Wow. Specific.

Not really.

Pretty unoriginal.

What rattled me

is that he told me to tell him
that he was a good man,

and that I was his daughter,

and that he loved me,
and I loved him and...

And so, he's a romantic.

(SCOFFS)
No, I don't need details.

You know, I...
I know what
a bad customer is.

(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)

Yeah.

Do you enjoy providing
your services?

Yes.

Or I... I used to.

Do you enjoy providing yours?

Oh, I used to,

but I haven't desired to cook
for someone in ages.

And one does
miss that feeling.

Come with me.

SLOWIK: (CLAPPING)
Everyone's so down!

Ladies and gentlemen,
for our next course,

let us take the evening air!

Come on! Outside!

SOMMELIER: Please, sir.
Come on. Outside, everyone.

SOREN: If we can find a boat,
we can make a break for it.

SLOWIK: Regulars, too.
Come on.
ELSA: Please follow Chef.

Chef, I'd love to talk to you
very quickly, Chef.

SLOWIK: Come on!
SOMMELIER: After you, please.

Guests first.

(RICHARD GROANS)

ANNE: Richard.

SLOWIK: Follow me.

Into the tranquil night air.

Don't be frightened.
Nothing to be frightened of.

So, maybe there's a spare boat
somewhere and we can get
out of here.

To what?

What?
Get out of here to what?

What the fuck
are you talking
about, bro?

We're dead.
It's okay.

No. We're gonna
die tonight.

Yes, we are. Yeah.
Yeah.

SLOWIK: Our next course
will be presented by
sous-chef, Katherine Keller.

Good evening, everyone.

Three years ago,

Julian Slowik tried
to fuck me.

I refused his advances.

A week later,
he tried again.

And again, I refused.

But he didn't fire me.

No.

He kept me in his kitchen,

and refused to look me
in the eye or speak directly
to me for eight months.

He can do that.

Because he's the star.

He's the man.

Our next course
is called "Man's Folly."

(SQUELCHING)
(GUESTS GASP)

(SLOWIK GROANS)
(GUESTS GROAN)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING)

I'm sorry.

(SLOWIK GROANS)
(GUESTS GROAN)

SOREN: Fuck.

To our male diners,
we now offer you
the chance to escape.

You'll be given
a 45-second head start,

at which point members of my
staff will try and catch you.

If they do catch...

(SOREN GRUNTING)
Okay.

Forty-five seconds starts now.

(TIMER TICKING)

Hold this.
What?

I'm sorry. Come on.
You know I'm awful.

TED:
You're a wonderful critic.
(KISSES)

I'll... I'll send for help.
First thing.

(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

You, too.

I'll, uh, leave you to it.

KATHERINE:
Care to join me
inside?

It's getting chilly.

It's right this way.

LILLIAN: Okay.

This way.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(TIMER RINGING)
Go!

FELICITY: Thank you.
ANNE: Thank you.

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

(WISTFUL MUSIC PLAYING)
Mmm.

LILLIAN: This is fantastic.

The tartness of the umeboshi
and the waves of ferment.

It's rich, and yet it's clean.

It's delicious.

Yes, well, there was a time

that would have meant
a lot to me, Ms. Bloom.

(SNIFFLES)

(SOBBING)

MARGOT: Mmm.

FELICITY: It's so good.

ANNE: Yes, it's really good.
MARGOT: Mmm-hmm.

You know,
it's the emoji for me.

Umeboshi.
FELICITY: Hmm?

Umeboshi.
FELICITY: Umeboshi.

LILLIAN: This is so good.

FELICITY:
You're very talented.
KATHERINE: Thank you.

Usually don't like
foam, but...

SOREN: Don't fucking
run next to me, bro!

BRYCE: No, you're
running next to me!

SOREN:
It's a big fuckin' forest!
Fuck off!

BRYCE: Get away from me!
SOREN: Fuck off, bro!

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

Fuck.

SOREN: Oh, my God.

Yeah.

ANNE: So...

You know my husband.

(SCREAMING)

(COUGHS) Um...

Yeah.

I do.

Right.

FELICITY: You can tell us.

Are we all really
dying tonight?

It doesn't work
if you live.

ANNE: What doesn't work?
The menu.

FELICITY: Why not?

It needs an ending...

That ties everything together
conceptually.

Otherwise,
it just tastes good,
and who cares.

LILLIAN: I mean, really,
you should have
your own place.

Right? And I could
help you with that.

I'm sure you could, Ms. Bloom.
LILLIAN: I could. I could.

We would just have
to talk about...
(STUTTERS)

(CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY)
...the dying thing.

Oh, everyone dying
was my pitch, actually.

I'm super proud of it.

Anybody want any wine?
Yes, please.

LILLIAN: Fuck it.

ANNE: Thank you.
(WINE POURING)

(GROANING LOUDLY)

I heard a pop. (YELPS)

Fuck!

Fuck!

(CHICKEN CLUCKING)

(GASPS)

SERVER: A special bite
for the last guest to
be caught.

A little play on
the Passard egg with
creme fraiche and maple.

Enjoy.
Thank you.

Not that you guys
give a single, flying fuck,

but my name is not Margot.

It's Erin.

And I'm from Brockton,
Massachusetts...

So there's that.

(DOOR OPENS)

Party's over.

SOMMELIER: Come, gentlemen.

Welcome back.
What did you get?

SOMMELIER: Sir? Please.

Excuse me. I'm sorry.
I'll take that. Thank you.

Ms. Bloom. Please.

Allow me.
No, it's fine.
It's fine.

Here.

Oh, God.

(DOOR CLOSES)

FELICITY:
How'd you do out
there?

I did great. I killed it.

I'm the only one
who got away.

I'm sorry.
I'm a fuckin'
failure.

It's okay.

I've been stealing
money from you.

GEORGE: I know.

I know you know.

I wrote a negative
recommendation to Sony.

I know.
You cc'd me on it.

SLOWIK: Folks,

I'm afraid our menu
cannot continue as planned

until we deal with
an unresolved matter.

You.

Me?

SLOWIK: Mmm-hmm.

You.

Tell me why you're here.

(GRUNTS) You know,
because I
wanted to...

Swallow first.

(TYLER GRUNTING, GULPS)

I wanted to experience
your food, Chef.

And what were you told?

(TYLER STUTTERS)
What were you told
ahead of time?

You told me it'd be
the greatest menu
ever created.

Right. And? And?

And that everyone
would die.

SLOWIK: "Everyone would die."

(GUESTS GASP)
SLOWIK: You had a date.

I seem to remember
you had a date.

Not the young woman
here tonight,

so what happened to her?
Your date?

She broke up with me, Chef.

So, you brought Margot.

TYLER: Mmm-hmm.
SLOWIK: Mmm-hmm.

Why?

'Cause you don't
offer seatings for one.

So, you hired her
knowing she'd die.

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)
(BREATH TREMBLING)

TYLER: Yes.
You entitled piece of shit!

(GROANS)
I'm gonna kill you, Tyler!

(MARGOT GROWLS)

TYLER: Calm down.

(PANTING)

SLOWIK:
You can't blame her,
can you?

For the eight months
I've corresponded with you,

I gave you, Tyler,
access to our world, hmm.

And I swore you to secrecy.

Why do you think I'd do this?

You wanted me here because...
Why? Why?

...you said I know
a lot about food.

SLOWIK: That's right.
You're not
like the others, are you?

I mean, you know
what a Pacojet is.

Yeah.
SLOWIK: You knew what
the bergamot was.

Yeah. I could taste it.
Yeah, you could.

Yeah, I know,
but you identified it.

Picked it out.
Mmm-hmm. Right.

That impressed me.

Really?
Yeah, yeah.

I mean, you're a cook.
Oh!

Cooks belong
in the kitchen.

Right?

COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

SLOWIK: Yeah.

Come with me.
TYLER: Really?

Me? Really?

SLOWIK: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I have something for you.

TYLER: (CHUCKLES) Okay.

Come here.
Elsa has it.

Ah, it's a chef's jacket.

(SLOWIK AND TYLER CHUCKLE)

Courtesy of Hawthorn.

TYLER: Wow.
SLOWIK: Mmm-hmm.

Ah!

Nice.
Thank you.

You look wonderful. Doesn't he
look wonderful, Margot?

Doesn't he look good?
COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

Mr. Handsome Boy.

I'm gonna personalize
the jacket.

"T, Y

"L, E,

"R."

Thank you. Thank you.

I'm proud of you.
Thank you, Chef.

Tyler, now cook.

What?
Cook.

You're a cook. So, cook.
Oh, I don't know
if I can cook here.

Cook. Cook.
Now? I don't...

Cook! Go on, now.

What do you need?

We have everything.
ELSA: Please rise to observe

the demonstration.
Don't be frightened.

What do you want... Um...
Please rise to observe
the demonstration.

SLOWIK: Everyone,
please come around.

Please. Tyler's gonna
demonstrate his culinary
expertise.

Please rise to observe
the demonstration.

SLOWIK: Everyone, please.
Come around. Come closer.

What do you need?

Uh... Leeks.
Get the cook some leeks.

Leeks. This is your station
here. What else?

Um... Sh... Ah...

Oh... Shit?
Would you like some
shit?

No. Uh...

(STUTTERS) Shallots.

Shallots for
the great foodie!

The phenomenal
Mr. Food himself!

TYLER:
Excuse me, I'm sorry.

Everyone gather around.
We must learn from Tyler.

This is a new dicing method of
which we have been woefully
ignorant.

What next?

Uh... Butter.

Butter? Butter. Leeks and
shallots sauteed in butter.

I bear witness
to a revolution
in cuisine.

Would you like a protein?

Uh... Lamb.
Lamb!

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

TYLER: (GROANS) Oh!

(TYLER MUTTERING)

(INHALES DEEPLY,
EXHALES SHARPLY)

(PANS CLATTER)
Oh!

(PAN SIZZLING)

Oh, yeah. I think it's done,
Chef.

You think it's done?
You're sure?

Mmm-hmm.
You wanna...

Maybe you wanna
jam it into the Pacojet.

No.

Mmm.

Wow.

Wow.

It's actually quite...

...bad.

(BELL DINGS)

You are why the mystery
has been drained from our art.

You see that now,
don't you?

Sorry, Chef.

Come here, son. Come.

Come here.

(INDISTINCT WHISPERING)

Yes, Chef.

And now you're free, too.

Um, ladies and gentlemen,
I wanna apologize to you all.

What you just saw was not
originally part
of tonight's menu.

We strive for perfection,

which of course
does not exist,

and that is a hard truth
for me to accept,
so please forgive me.

Come with me.

SOMMELIER:
And that concludes
our demonstration.

Please return to your seats.

SLOWIK: Listen to me.

There's only one more
savory course left
in our menu.

That means
we must prepare
for dessert.

(SIGHS)
Dessert requires
a large barrel

that is supposed to be
there in the corner.

(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
Do you see a barrel?

MARGOT: No. No, I do not.
SLOWIK: Neither do I.

That is because
my negligent colleague, Elsa,

forgot to assign someone
to bring it.

So, Margot, you will fetch
the barrel instead.

Me?
SLOWIK: Yes.

You remember
the smokehouse?
Hmm?

MARGOT:
(STUTTERS) Maybe...
I don't...

Chef, perhaps one of us
should...

SLOWIK: Margot is
now one of us, Elsa.

Right, Margot?

MARGOT: Yes.
Yes, what?

Yes, Chef.

Elsa, give her
the smokehouse key.

Yes, Chef.

(KEYS JINGLING)

SLOWIK: Go.

Go!

Um...

(SINISTER MUSIC PLAYING)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING)

(BIRD SQUAWKS)

(RICHARD BREATHING HEAVILY)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC INTENSIFIES)

Excuse me. Uh...

(DRAMATIC MUSIC FADES)

(STUTTERS) I'm sorry, Chef.

Sir... Sir Slowik. Um...

Hi.

What's up?

Oh... Well, look...

What I really...
I just wanted
to say because, um...

Look, I'm not trying to sound,
like, all whatever here or
anything,

but I just don't think
it's really fair.

Maybe.

(STUTTERS) If...

Do you wanna know
why you're being punished?

(HESITATES)

Sure.

I saw the film
Calling Doctor Sunshine,
and I did not enjoy it.

Wait, sorry?

It was a Sunday.

My one day off in months.

The most precious day.

The day where I was
allowed to live.

And I saw the film
Calling Doctor Sunshine
alone in the cinema.

But look,
I didn't direct it.
I just acted in it.

The memory of your face
in that film,

and seeing you again
now haunts me.

Drives me.

What happens to an artist
when he loses his purpose?

It's pitiful.

No, you're right.

And what about her?

What school did you go to?

Brown.

Student loans?

No.

I'm sorry. You're dying.

(SWITCH CLICKS)
(OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

(SWITCH CLICKS)
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC STOPS)

Motherfucker.

Really?

(DOORKNOB RATTLING)

ELSA: No one is allowed
inside Chef's house.

Do you think you're special?

You've disobeyed this rule.

I take care of the customers
so that Chef can take care
of the menu.

You've been a nuisance
since you have arrived.

I'm sorry.

If you don't mind me asking
though,

why would you die for him?

You will not replace me.

Replace you?
Trust me, I have no...
(SCREAMS)

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)
(MARGOT SCREAMING)

No, no. No!

(BOTH GRUNTING)

(BOTH SCREAM)

(BOTH GRUNTING AND STRUGGLING)

MARGOT: Stop! Enough!

He didn't tell me
about the barrel.

I didn't forget.
(MUSIC INTENSIFIES)

(MARGOT SCREAMS)
(SQUELCHING)

Oh, my God!

(BLOOD GUSHING)

(CHOKING)

(MARGOT GROANS)

(PANTING)

(TENSE MUSIC FADES)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

(LOCK CLICKS)

(SWITCH CLICKS)

Oh, my God.

(GASPS) Um...

(RADIO TURNS ON)

Hello?

ALL:
** Happy birthday, dear Bryce

** Happy birthday to you **

You told them it was
my birthday?

Seemed funny
about three hours ago.

Thank you.

Well, leave it there
and take your seat.

(PANTING)

I want you to
understand something, Margot.

I am a monster.

No, was a monster.

And a whore.

But tonight,
everything I'm
doing is pure.

Egoless.

And at last,
the pain is almost gone.

Chef's hands.

Asbestos hands.

I can carry a cast-iron from
a hot oven to your table
with no protection.

I can no longer
be hurt, Margot.

As Dr. King said, "We know
through painful experience

"that freedom is never
voluntarily given by the
oppressor.

"It must be demanded
by the oppressed."

Did he just quote
Martin Luther King?

Yep.
Yes, he did.

(SHIP HORN BLARES)

What?

I see you found our radio.

Clear the dining room
immediately!

It's a boat!

Did you call someone?

(SIGHS IN RELIEF)

It's a boat.
It's a boat.

What? What are you doing?
(GROANS)

(RICHARD GROANING)
GEORGE: Easy! Easy, there!

BRYCE: The fuck
are you doing to
that man?

GEORGE: Bro, easy with that!

SLOWIK: Tight, tight, tight.

Good.

You'll be tempted
to ask him for help.

To plead, even.
No, no, no.

This would be unwise.
He cannot help you.

Ask yourselves two things.

One, if you really wanna
be responsible for the death
of an innocent man.

And two, ask yourselves,
this entire evening,

why didn't you all try harder
to fight back?

To get out of here?

Honestly, you probably
could have.

Something to think about.

SLOWIK: Good evening, Officer.
How can we help you?

I got a report
of a disturbance.

Uh, here? (SCOFFS)

What kind of a disturbance?

OFFICER: A violent one.

Are you the owner?
I am the executive chef.

Ownership changed hands
recently, but that's
another story.

Now, I don't wish to be rude,
but as you can see,

we're right in
the middle of service.

Did anybody here call in
a distress over the shortwave
tonight?

(SLOWIK LAUGHING SOFTLY)

We're not in the habit
of serving our guests

shortwave radios
with their meals.

(COOKING TEAM LAUGH)

Hey.

Uh... Are you...

Yes, yes, yes. I am.

Wow. I'm a big fan.

Thank you.

Would you like his autograph?

(HESITATES) Uh...

I don't want to bother you.

No, no, no.
It wouldn't be
a bother.

(STUTTERS) I just,
I don't have a...

SLOWIK: No, we have a pen.
Let's do it.

Yeah.

Thank you.

What's your name?
Dale.

GEORGE: Dale. What's up, Dale?
Hi.

You're great.
(PEN SCRIBBLING)

My wife and I,
we loved that, um...

What's it called?
The one where
you play the surgeon?

Yeah.
Calling Doctor Sunshine.

DALE: Yeah! Yeah, great stuff.
GEORGE: Here you go.

Thank you so much.

(CHUCKLES)

Okay. Um...

Well, sorry again for
bothering you folks.
Uh, I'll be leaving now.

GEORGE:
For all you do, man,
anytime.

SLOWIK: Well, thank you
for your service.

DALE: Hands on your head!
Everyone! Now!

No, no. You're joking.
(ALL GASP)

You're joking.

DALE: I am not joking, sir.

SLOWIK: Come on. Clearly,
there's a misunderstanding.

ANNE: Help us!

FELICITY: Yes! Yes!
ANNE: He wants to kill us all!

DALE: Back to your seats!
Everyone!
Back to your seat now!

SOREN: He's fucking crazy!

Back in your chair now.

Silence! Everyone,
back to where
you were.

Sit down. Now!

Quiet!

It's him! It's him!
Him!

DALE: Everyone!
He wants to kill us all!

DALE: Do not speak!

You.

On your knees with your hands
over your head. Now.

GUESTS: Yes!
ANNE: Thank you!

You are fucked!
Yes! Yes! Yes!

LILLIAN: Oh, my God!

SOREN: All these other fuckers
are with them too, sir.
Watch out.

DALE: Calm down!
Fuck you!

DALE: Stay calm.
Fuck you!

Nobody move until I say so.
No one move!

No, no!
What are you doing?

GEORGE: Hey, hey, hey.

TED: Him, him, him!
GEORGE: No!

(GUN CLICKS)

SLOWIK: Thank you, Dale.
Thank you.

(SLOWIK GRUNTS)

Good job.

So, in a kitchen we all work
together, or nothing works
at all.

(BREATHING NERVOUSLY)
We work as a team.

You...

Margot from Nebraska.

You... You've betrayed
our sacred bond of trust.

And you've shown your craft
to be careless.

I was wrong.
You're an eater.
You're a taker.

Like all the rest.

(TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

Final course! Plating in five!

COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

(INDISTINCT MUMBLING)

(GROANING)

(TENSE MUSIC FADES)

MARGOT:
I don't like your food.

What did you say?

I said I don't like your food,
and I would like to send it
back.

SLOWIK:
I'm sorry to hear that.

What about my food
is not to your liking?

For starters,

you've taken the joy
out of eating.

Every dish you served tonight
has been some intellectual
exercise

rather than something you want
to sit and enjoy.

When I eat your food,
it tastes like it was made
with no love.

Oh, this is ridiculous.
We always cook with love.

Don't we?
COOKING TEAM: Yes, Chef!

Everyone knows
love is the most
important ingredient.

Then you're
kidding yourself.

Come on, Chef. I thought
tonight was a night
of hard home truths.

This is one of them.

You cook with obsession,
not love.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

Even your hot dishes
are cold.

You're a chef.

Your single purpose
on this Earth
is to serve people food

that they might actually like,
and you have failed.

You've failed.

And you've bored me.

And the worst part is
I'm still fucking hungry.

You're...
You're still hungry?

MARGOT: Yes, I am.

How hungry?

Starved.

Well, what are
you hungry for?

What do you have?

Everything.

You know what
I'd really like?
Tell me.

A cheeseburger.

Yeah, we can do
a cheeseburger.

A real cheeseburger.

Not some fancy,
deconstructed avant bullshit.

A real cheeseburger.

Well, I'll make you
a very good,
very traditional cheeseburger.

I don't think you can.

I'll make you feel as if
you're eating the first
cheeseburger you ever ate.

The cheap one your parents
could barely afford.

Show me.
How do you like it?

Medium.
American cheese.

American cheese is the best
cheese for a cheeseburger,

because it melts without
splitting.

How much will that
set me back?

$9.95.

That come with fries?

Niels.
Yes, Chef?

Is the fryer still on?
Yes, Chef.

Crinkle-cut or julienne?

(MEAT SIZZLING)

(ORCHESTRAL MUSIC PLAYING)

Hmm.

Mmm.

(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

(MUSIC FADES)

Now that...

...is a cheeseburger.

Yeah.

That is a cheeseburger.

Unfortunately, I think my eyes
were a little bigger than my
stomach.

Well, I understand.

Can I get the rest to go?

One moment, please.

(BELL DINGS)

One cheeseburger to go.

And a gift bag.

Thank you for dining
at Hawthorn.

Thank you...

...for, um...

For everything.

Before our final course,
there is the matter
of the bill.

We're on a no-tip system,
so gratuity is included.

And please enjoy
your gift bags.

Um... Some goodies in there.

A booklet of our local
suppliers,

some house-made granola,

one of Doug Verrick's fingers,
and a copy of tonight's menu.

Oh! No, no.

It's on the magazine.

(EERIE MUSIC PLAYING)

(GEORGE SIGHS)

I told you
you weren't leaving.

So, once again, thank you for
dining with us tonight.

You represent
the ruin of my art

and my life,

and now you get to
be a part of it.

A part of what I hope
is my masterpiece.

(MELLOW MUSIC PLAYING)

(GUESTS GROANING)

SLOWIK:
And now, our final
dessert course

is a playful twist
on a comfort food classic.

The s'more.

The most offensive assault
on the human palate
ever contrived.

Unethically sourced chocolate
and gelatinized sugar water

imprisoned by industrial-grade
graham cracker.

It's everything wrong with us,
and yet we associate it
with innocence.

With childhood.

Mom and Dad.

But what transforms
this fucking
monstrosity is fire.

Oh, God.

The purifying flame.

It nourishes us, warms us,

re-invents us, forges and
destroys us.

We must embrace the flame.

Jesus fucking Christ! Please.

(ENGINE STALLING)

(GUESTS GASP)

We must be cleansed.

Made clean.

Like martyrs

or heretics.

We can be subsumed...
(SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)

...and made anew.

Thank you.

(SIGHS)
(ENGINE STARTS)

I love you all!

COOKING TEAM:
We love you, Chef!

(ENGINE STOPS)

(SIGHS)

(DISTANT EXPLOSION)
(GASPS)

(SOMBER ORCHESTRAL MUSIC
PLAYING)

(UNSETTLING MUSIC PLAYING)