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So who’s going to win ze grand final of Ze Restaurant tomorrow night? Will it be Fawlty Towers duo James and Ally with their catalogue of “catastrophes” and their scal-oops?
Or will it be Cheerful Soul Michelle with her not terribly cheerful flouncing (“tell ‘im to stuff it!”) and poor put-upon Russell?
We actually have a sneaky feeling that, against all odds, it might be James and Alasdair.
After surviving restaurant “clur-sure” so many times, we’re starting to think old Raymond has a soft spot for them.
It’s true they never make the same mistake twice (although they manage to find a whole new array of idiocies to explore each week). And yes, they urgently need training in management, business and spelling.
But we’d go and eat there, just for the spectacle (background shouts of “DON’T TOUCH THAT” and “GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN” plus the constant worry of whether we’d actually get cutlery would make it quite an experience).
On the other hand, you’d have to drag us kicking and screaming by the hair to a table at the Cheerful Soul. We don’t care how tasty Russell’s risottos are. We’d be overwhelmed by the urge to biff his glassy-eyed grinning loon of a wife.
Or will it be Cheerful Soul Michelle with her not terribly cheerful flouncing (“tell ‘im to stuff it!”) and poor put-upon Russell?
We actually have a sneaky feeling that, against all odds, it might be James and Alasdair.
After surviving restaurant “clur-sure” so many times, we’re starting to think old Raymond has a soft spot for them.
It’s true they never make the same mistake twice (although they manage to find a whole new array of idiocies to explore each week). And yes, they urgently need training in management, business and spelling.
But we’d go and eat there, just for the spectacle (background shouts of “DON’T TOUCH THAT” and “GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN” plus the constant worry of whether we’d actually get cutlery would make it quite an experience).
On the other hand, you’d have to drag us kicking and screaming by the hair to a table at the Cheerful Soul. We don’t care how tasty Russell’s risottos are. We’d be overwhelmed by the urge to biff his glassy-eyed grinning loon of a wife.
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