[Gordon checks the potatoes which head chef Philippe claims that they are roasted]
Gordon: Listen, let me have a quick word with you. This man (Israel) is paying your salary. His business is about to close. You understand how critical the situation is? So pay the man fucking respect and tell the truth. You have deep-fried the potatoes!
Philippe: These haven't been deep fried.
Gordon: They are wrinkled, dehydrated, and they've been in the deep-fat fryer.
Philippe: That's not dehydrated.
Gordon: You're talking to a chef, and for as long as I got a hole in my butt, big boy, those fucking potatoes have been in the deep-fat fryer. Don't fucking lie!
Philippe: I know what I did!
Gordon: You knew the oven's not hot enough to roast a potato! You can't even cook a FUCKING burger in there! They've been in the fryer! Tell the fucking truth!
Philippe: It went in the oven.
Gordon: Tell him the fucking truth. (voiceover) He's so adamant. I'm even starting to doubt my own judgement. Until I tracked down Alsamh. (to sous-chef Alsamh) How many trays of potatoes did you fry this morning?
Alsamh: I fried everything here.
Gordon: You fried all four?
Gordon: Have he told you to fry them?
Alsamh: My chef?
Gordon: Your chef, yes. (to Philippe) Why did you deep-fry the potatoes?
Philippe: You've said it earlier. The oven is nowhere near hot enough.
Gordon: Right. Can we get back to basics now, and cut the fucking crap? (to Israel) Sorry. But I fucking hate liars.
Nigel: Why did you do this to us? We've never had a night like this! Never, since we've open.
Gordon: Don't be so ridiculous, will you? Shit food, fucking red mullet frozen from Thailand, the fact that we're not performing, the service is all over the place, the customers are fucking complaining.
Nigel: 90 people without giving us any notice.
Gordon: There's still 50 that haven't even been fucking served. So what are you blaming me for this?
Gordon: You're a weak man.
Nigel: Oh, fuck off, Gordon! I'm not a weak man.
Gordon: Why don't you open your eyes, get your head out of your arse and try to look at your business objectively? (Outside) They clearly can't cook the existing menu, they're struggling. There's nearly 60 customers still on the board. They've barely cooked 25-30 main courses. And, all of a sudden, I'm to blame because they're busy and they're not handling it.
Gordon: When was the last time you've trained a waitress?
Nigel: I got to look after my customers. This is nonsense. Right? I've told him what happens. I told him what fucking happens.
Gordon: Talk to me!
Nigel: Why? Because you don't listen! I'm in denial! I do this all the time. This is how I run my fucking restaurant! It's not true!
Gordon: That's why you're in this shit, you fucking fat idiot!
Nigel: No, it's not! Don't call me fat, you are a twat! Do you know that?
Gordon: You stupid joke of an idiot! You're in denial!
Nigel: You stupid fucking silly-looking cunt!
Gordon: This is how you run your business?
Nigel: You're a fucking knob! Fuck off!
Gordon: Oh, you walk away now.
Nigel: Go and talk to the customers! Go and talk to the fucking regulars out there! See if they've never seen a service like this.
Gordon: And what are they going to say to me?
Nigel: Go and ask a regular!
Gordon: You are the best host in fucking Hampshire?
Nigel: Probably, some of them.
Gordon: Are you that fucking blind?
[During service, sous-chef Paul starts barking at Gordon]
Gordon: Can you shut up a minute? Yes?
Paul: You're not helping us, you're giving us all this!
Paul: You're not helping us!
Gordon: Say that again?
Paul: Ah, fuck off!
Gordon: Did you just tell me to fuck off? Is that the thanks you get? Listen, let me just tell you something to your face. I know you think it's cocky and smart and fucking hard.
Paul: No, it's not that.
Gordon: Hey, I'm talking to Martin and you shout over me and you're saying all the way over here sulking. You've got a lot to learn. This is what happens when a kitchen's not committed. A chef who tells me that two hot stoves is too much. One fish cake to reheat, mushrooms on toast, and the chippy little cunt in the corner shouting his mouth off. You'd think someone would show a little bit more balls than that, wouldn't you?
[Gordon visits The Runaway Girl for the first time]
Gordon: What the fuck is that? Looks like a hair-dressing salon. Dreadful. Absolutely shocking. Spanish tapas bar? I mean, looks like a fucking lap-dancing hole.
Gordon: (voiceover) That stale slop is an embarrassment. It's time for head chef Richie and sous chef Jonil to face the Spanish Inquisition. (to Richie) Excellent. So you're the head chef?
Gordon: (to Jonil) And you're the sous chef?
Gordon: Right. How can the fish in a stew be dry? When was that cooked, the fish? Because I can guarantee that wasn't cooked this morning. The duck was sweet as fuck. It was like a mouthful of sugar.
Richie: That's how it was supposed to be.
Gordon: Oh, fucking hell. That's not Spanish tapas.
Justin: We've never had a set of complaints about any particular dish.
Justin: There's never one thing that have been sent back, and quite the contrary, we were having compliments.
Gordon: You shouldn't use your customers like a hair-dryer blowing smoke up your arse. All I want to know from my customers is the negatives. But, on the top of the fucking food, we can't eat inside a night-club. End of fucking story. Thank you.
Richie: (interview) When you walk in here, it does not look like a fucking restaurant. You know what I mean? Looks like a fucking strip-bar. I know this, yeah? But he's (Gordon) got to realise I can fucking cook.
[Gordon returns to The Runaway Girl on the second day]
Gordon: Titty bar. (enters the restaurant) What was the first thing you thought about this morning?
Justin: Well, I've done is, I've dug out 30 to 40 comments cards, and just taken them off the top of the pile. And all they're saying is, "Great food", "Great atmosphere", "Great food", "What will you change? Nothing", "What will you change? Nothing".
Gordon: I can't believe you, you know that? Your business is fucked. And you revert to stupid pretentious comment cards to pump smoke back up your arse first thing this morning to say "Food's good", "Atmosphere is good", "Music is good". When are you going to stop massaging yourself and fucking get real?
Justin: Okay. There's a bigger picture which is fucked. But this is...
Gordon: Fuck me.
Richie: Dude, this is what I'm talking about, kid. You've got to cut the fucking bullshit. When the damage has been done. We already looking like a couple of fucking tits. Yeah? You're already looking like a twat. Yeah? And this guy is too fucking clever for you. So shut your fucking mouth and fucking listen!
Justin: I can't-
Richie: If you do not turn it around today, 2 o'clock, I'm fucking off! I'm not staying here, Just! Cut the fucking crap to turn things around! He's there to fucking turn it around. You can do it without me, or you can fucking with me. Because I've had enough of this fucking charade! Because I don't need this fucking shit! And I got to stand next to him and show me fucking tubs of fucking shit! That's what I'm fucking cooking! You've fucking done so nothing!
Justin: So tell me where to go from here, Rich! Cause you're-
Richie: You're not fucking listening to him!
Justin: I'm al-
Richie: He's trying to fucking tell you! I tried to tell you for two years about everything! Food, bands, and I've told you that, but you don't fucking understand! So show him some fucking respect, or else I'm fucking going at two o'clock, and that is fucking it! And that is it! No fucking bullshit!
Richie: Fucking dangle me like a fucking puppet! (to Gordon) Sorry.
Gordon: Get some fresh air.
Richie: So don't take a fucking piss at me anymore! Fuck this shit, bro.
Gordon: I've never seen such a fucked up service in all my fucking life.
[Justin brings back a couple of steaks]
Justin: This was asked for well done and they're sending it back.
Gordon: Well let me just tell you something, (slices the steak) in terms of well done, look, we braised it. What is it?
Justin: It's well done.
Gordon: That is well done so (slams the steak down) STOP BRINGING ME SHIT!!!
Justin: What about this Gordon?
Gordon: That is well done!
Justin: What about this?
Gordon: It's well done! We've braised it!
Justin: That is pink though.
Gordon: That's gristle you fucking idiot! What is that?