YO YO YO! I'M PROBABLY GONNA UPGRADE THIS TO 'M' NEXT CHAPTER BECAUSE IT GETS EVEN MORE iNTENSEEEE AND THE RAMSAY ETC.! THIS ONE TOOK LONGER TO WRITE THAN I ANTICIPATED COS IT'S SO HUGE AND THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL PROBABLY TAKE JUST AS LONG BUT GOSHSHSHS DADDDFJFBWIKUJB IT'S GONNA BE GOOD DON'T YOU KNOW ITTT. LOOK FORWARD TO THAT RAMSAY x OX FORD COS IT'S COMING FRIENDS AND IT'S GONNA BE GLORIOUS

Disclaimer FROM KING RAMSAY HIMSELF: I don't f***ing own Soul Eater. Soul Eater is the bloody property of Atsushi Ohkubo and Square Enix, and is not my intellectual property cos I'm a f***ing professional chef and I have no time for this bollocks. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought cos I'm already stinking rich. This is for entertainment purposes only. Furthermore, this is a work of fiction which features fictional representations of real people, namely me, Gordon f***ing Ramsay. Needless to say, none of the events are true. This story is a p*** poor representation of me and is based solely on my TV personality and not on my chocolatey inner core. It is complete and utter crack-tastic fictitious fiction.


[OX FORD ISN'T COMING ALL RIGHT? HE'S BUSY dANG IT AND HE NEEDS SOME tIME]

MAKA MEETS A LIVING LEGEND (AGAIN)

"So, what kind of cake can we do for you?" Professor Stein asks our first customer.

"Would you like to hear the tale of my epic exploits?"

"How about you tell us your order first, and then-"

"My legend begins in the 12th century. I was a yankee then, the boxing manager for Andre the Giant, the world's tallest wrestler."

"Wait," Soul interrupts, "why were you the boxing manager if the guy you were managing was a wres-"

"It was a difficult time to be a Dutchman, and the mayor of Excaliburtown-"

"There's no way you had a whole town named after you."

"Fool! Don't interrupt me with such impertinent questions! The town's name is clearly just a coincidence!"

Soul stares blankly at our first customer. Why did it have it to be Excalibur? Medusa would've been less frustrating than this.

"Now as I was saying, the mayor of Excaliburtown bequeathed to me this teacup," he holds up a teacup and sips from it. He takes a second sip. Then a gulp. Then he asks, clearly irritated, "Why is there no tea in this cup?"

Black Star screams.

Professor Stein smiles. The smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Sir," he says, "If you tell us your order now, we can prepare it for you while you enjoy your tea."

"There is no tea in this cup for me to enjoy!"

Tsubaki steps forward, "Let me refill it for you."

She reaches out to take Excalibur's cup but he stuffs it back in his pocket before her fingers can get anywhere near it.

"I'm not thirsty," he protests, "I am hungry, for cake."

"With all due respect, your order-"

"One hundred and thirteen scones! I require exactly one hundred and thirteen of them!"

Stein sighs with relief, "Right, you heard the man everyone. Get to it!"

"Wait! First you must hear of how I escaped the great prison of Azkaban!"

Stein gives me a serious nod and I back away from Excalibur. I tug on Soul's sleeve and he joins me. Everyone else remains where they are, forced to listen to Most Annoying Sword's tall tales.

"A hundred scones..." I whisper to Soul.

"A hundred and thirteen," he whispers back.

How on earth are we supposed to make that many by ourselves?

"It was 1933, wartime Australia," Excalibur continues, "and I was sat deep inside the deepest depth charge chocolate cannon teacake bomb ever built, named 'Bomber Yeah' by the locals, when all of a sudden-"

MAYBE OUR LADY OF GORGON IS HAVING A BETTER TIME...

Still hiding beneath the rubble of what should've been the Kishin's chamber, I watch as Lord Death leads the three chef buffoons back up the hole 'Ramsay' made and into Death City proper. Those idiots will doubtless tell him everything they know. Maybe they really were spies. No, I'm just paranoid because of what a mess this has become. I know true stupid when I see it, and those three chefs are the stupidest apes I've ever had the misfortune of not killing. Speaking of idiots, I wish Eruka would let go of my arm already.

"Eruka, when you injected the black blood into the Kishin, what did you see?"

She shakes beside me in silence. I elbow her in the gut.

"Eruka, answer me."

"He just exploded and became that huge glowing monster."

"I trust you're not lying to me..."

I awaken the snakes within Eruka. She doubles over in pain.

"No, no I promise!" she cries.

"Don't shout like that, you fool! If the DWMA find us now then it's all over. Things are already bad enough as they are. What we need to do now is re-establish communication with Crona and Free, then track down this new Kishin. He's short tempered and difficult to manage, but that could end up being to our advantage. The question is, where the hell did he go?"

SO MANY QUESTIONS! HERE'S A QUESTION FOR YOU: WHO NEEDS A BINARY GENDER WHEN YOU CAN HAVE A ROBOTIC BODY OF MASS DESTRUCTION INSTEAD? HERE'S YOUR ANSWER

I'm starting to get used to this clumsy metal body. Ragnarok seems to like it too. It leaves more mess than my old one though. A lot more. This kitchen is almost entirely red now. My blood isn't red. My blood will never be red.

Suddenly a huge cloud of fire gushes down from the ceiling. I watch as it whirls around the cookers and the smashed up cooking utensils. Slowly, it forms the shape of a man.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"Who am I? Who the f*** are you?"

He stomps towards me. Then he pauses, taking in his surroundings.

"Is this... a kitchen?" he gasps.

"...yes."

"F***ing finally! Right, now we can get back to baking."

He pulls up a stool and places it in front of all the workspaces.

"So I take it you're the only one left then?" he barks.

"I'm always alone."

"We normally have two teams in the finals. Where's your opponent? For that matter, where the bloody hell is your partner?"

"He's inside me."

"Ha ha, very funny." The man stares at me. "Wait..." he growls, "you look just like me."

I start to back away. He gets up, floating towards me.

"I'm not like you. I don't even know who you are," I protest.

"I'm Gordon f***ing Ramsay. I'm the head chef, the one true meisterchef."

"Meister...?"

His face presses up against mine; flames pour down his glowing skin.

"Yes, Meisterchef. It's the name of my program. And you're on it, whether you like it or not, so get baking."

I start to feel dizzy. I don't like this man. I want to erase him. I want him gone.

"Ragnarok, help me" I plead.

"I'm stuck in your stomach, you idiot."

The burning man scowls at me, "Who's Ragnarok? Get to your work station now."

My body goes numb. I can't deal with this man. I have no choice. I can't deal with him. Ragnarok begins to screech. I raise my claws. Yes, he needs to be erased. He needs to go. Feeling my consciousness drift away, I throw my arms forward in a single swipe at the meisterchef, but they pass right through him.

"So that's how you wanna do it, huh...? You bloody idiot."

He backs off. Then I notice that all the pots and pans and knives and forks lying around the kitchen before are now floating around the head chef.

He smirks. Somehow it makes his face look even uglier.

"Welcome to hell's kitchen."

THINGS ARE HEATING UP IN THE KITCHEN, BUT LET'S SEE HOW MAKA IS DOING...

"Okay, we have 99 scones now Soul!"

"Maka I don't think we have enough dough for any more."

"What!? How is that possible? We had a mountain of dough here earlier. I even weighed it all, where did it-"

Then I notice the bowl waddling off back to the store entrance, carried by none other than Excalibur himself.

"This is a lovely scone," he says.

"No, that's just the dough," I reply, "these are the-"

"I first invented scones in the 15th century, after I defeated Guan Yu in a battle of tic tac toe while bathing on a naturist beach in the south of France."

"Are you going to eat these scones though, cos we made-"

"The beach is what gave me the idea. It reminded me of a dating game a friend of mine once refused to lend me, and of the emotions I felt at that time. I picked up the sand, chucked it into the ocean, and the sand became wet."

We all wait silently for him to continue, but he simply stands there, holding the bowl in his tiny hands.

"This is a delicious scone," he says.

Stein smiles again, and yet again it doesn't reach his eyes.

"I will now take my leave," Excalibur announces, "as it is almost time for tea. Good day to you all!"

He strolls out of the front door and onto the street outside. It's not as sunny out there any more. How long were we baking scones for? My shoulders groan at me. I look over just in time to spot Soul stuffing a whole scone into his mouth. He grinds it up, chews it for a few seconds and then swallows it. After a loud burp he says,

"I've decided: scones are not cool."

SO THAT'S WHERE HE WAS!

"FREEEEEE! I'M FREEE!" I scream to the two old men relaxing on this naturist beach in the south of France. "No more taking orders, no more being locked up, no more anything except sun, sea, and lots and lots of naked me! WOOO!"

"Did you know, old man?" I scream, "I DON'T DIE! I'M IMMORTAL!"

He squints at me and then rolls over to tan his backside.

"I LOVE THIS PLACE!" I roar to the sky, "I NEVER WANNA LEAVE!"

MEANWHILE, SOUL AND MAKA ARE IN BED AT THE SAME TIME - BUT NOT TOGETHER THOUGH! WOWWwwwwWWW WOULD THAT BE SPICY! TOO SPICY FOR DAYTIME TV BABY YEAHHHhhHhHhHhHhHh

Lying on the floor of the Girls' Pantry, using a bag of flour for a pillow - because apparently although we could afford a whole bakery we couldn't afford bedrooms, or even beds, I ask Liz,

"Do you think we'll ever make it back to Death City?"

She yawns, "We better do soon, or else Kid will completely lose his mind."

"I heard him screaming earlier."

"That's cos he baked a giraffe when he wanted a horse."

"Why did he want a horse? What kinda cake was it?"

"A perfectly symmetrical gingerbread farm cube, or something like that."

"Ahh."

"I was surprised he didn't just bake a plain cube. Or a figure eight. He loves the number eight."

"Soul and I were baking a piano."

"How did it turn out?"

"Excalibur took all our dough."

"I think I might've seen that. I was half-asleep at the time though."

"His stories have a way of putting people to sleep."

"Tell me about it. So he took all your dough?"

"Yeah."

"And then you made some more, right?

"We did make some more, but then Papa came over to irritate me and knocked our bowl onto the floor."

"Oh that's what that was."

"In the end we finished it after everyone had already gone to bed. I thought I'd be the only one up."

"I'm a night owl."

"Soul's like that too."

INSIDE THE HEAD OF SOUL THE NIGHT OWL

Lying on the floor of the Boys' Pantry, using a bag of flour for a pillow - because apparently although we could afford a whole bakery we couldn't afford bedrooms, or even beds, I ask Black Star,

"Why the hell did you bake a wedding cake?"

"Tsubaki wanted a pretty cake, and I wanted a cake so huge that I could weight train with it, so we agreed to go marital!"

"...it sounds weird when you say it like that."

"The only weird one here is you."

Death the Kid screams again.

"No," he cries, "I can't possibly sleep in this room. It's hideous. Not only are the shelves arranged with absolutely no regard for symmetry, thelengths and heights of this room's very walls are uneven. It's impossible. Impossible!"

"Kid, " Stein begins, his voice perfectly level, "this is the best I could do. It's a bakery, not a hotel."

"It astounds me that anyone could work in an environment like this, let alone sleep in it!"

"We'll be back at Death City soon."

"I'm going to go and sleep in a cupboard."

"If you insist."

"At least it'll be cuboid, unlike this monstrosity."

He storms out of the pantry door and into the kitchen/showroom. I sigh. I think this might just be the most bored I've ever been in my entire life. Ramsay, you dirty pig fu- [WOAH okay Soul, I get that you hate the guy but no need to be THAT colourful with your language! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?] you better show up soon like Stein says, or I'm gonna track you down myself and you don't even know what I'll do to you then. You don't wanna cross me when I'm bored.

THERE'S NO TIME FOR BOREDOM AT THE HOUSE OF FUN THAT IS THE MEISTERCHEF KITCHEN!

A molten cooling rack soars by my metal head. The meisterchef charges towards me, swirling spatulas around his burning body.

"Why can't I kill him, Ragnarok?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Ragnarok retorts.

"You're stuck in my stomach..."

"And?"

I don't know. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to deal with this body. It worked so well earlier, why can't I use it now? I can't feel my black blood.

The meisterchef erupts over a work station and punches me on my huge clunking jaw. I stumble over a chair and fall on my back. Above me, a flying whisk glowing white hot, spinning wildly in the air.

"Say my name," the flaming monster commands.

"I can't... I can't remember-"

"SAY IT!"

"Meisterchef!"

"No you fool! My name is GORDON RAMSAY!"

The whisk launches itself at me. Before I can react, it's already lodged in my mouth. It scrapes against my steel lining, worms its way inside me. My ears are filled with the laughter of Gordon Ramsay.

"Raggngggng" I splutter, unable to speak with the whisk drilling into my metal gut.

"Oi, Crona, get that thing out of here!"

"Hgnghrrhghr!"

"Woah, actually I changed my mind! Keep it coming! I think I can use this. Oh yes, yes, this is perfect!"

I feel myself boiling inside. I'm melting, but it doesn't hurt. No, actually, it feels... good. I can feel my blood again. It leaks through me, dissolving patches of my metal skin.

"You said your name was... Gordon Ramsay?" I burble.

The meisterchef frowns, "I didn't give you permission to speak."

"Well, Mr. Ramsay, I have something I need to tell you. You see, I'm not like other people. Normal people have red blood running through their veins, but my blood..." my metal shell melts away completely, and I am a puddle of oily ooze. I force an arm out of the slime, then another. I feel my skull harden around me, feel my skin tingle as hair tickles its way out of my scalp. I guess I didn't really know how to deal with that metal body. This one is much more comfortable. I take a deep breath.

"My blood, Mr. Ramsay, is pitch black."

His eyes glow blood red, "You little f***, you don't scare me!"

"Ragnarok," I whisper, "scream resonance."

Ragnarok's screeches slice through the air, disrupting the meisterchef's cloud of flames. My black sword drags me towards him, piercing through his heart. He doesn't even flinch. He grabs the sword. I keep a steady hold on it. I can see the veins on Ramsay's temples. How can he have veins? Is he actually human? I've never met someone so frustrating. I need to erase him immediately.

I start to drag my sword up through his glowing body. Ragnarok continues screeching, causing everything in the room to shred down further and further, turning work stations into sawdust and frying pans into shrapnel, but Ramsay refuses to die. The tip of my blade approaches his throat.

"Die! Die!" I scream.

"IS THAT ANY WAY TO TALK TO THE HEAD CHEF!?" he bellows, shoving me away with such force that I smash into the wall on the other side of the room. My vision clears too late for me to avoid the swarm of knives whistling straight for my chest. They all find their target. Thankfully, normal knives have no effect on me. I get to my feet.

"You can't kill me, meisterchef."

He hisses in rage, "Impossible! I am the head chef here! I am perfect!You answer to me!"

"I only answer to Medusa, and she isn't here now."

"Yeah," Ragnarok adds, "as of now, we're free agents, you dumbass! We don't answer to you, or anyone!"

Ramsay smirks again, "Is that so? Okay then, if you won't listen to me, then maybe you'll listen to this!"

He raises his arms in the air and begins to roar. A hole opens up in the ground. Smoke rises out of it, as black as the night sky.

"Come, my sous chef! Aid me in conducting this televised baking competition!"

There's a flash of light. For a moment, I'm completely blinded. When things finally clear, standing before me is-

UNDER THE SEA!

Being naked on the beach is the best. Nothing beats it. Nothing. This is true Freedom. I feel like I have a hundred bald eagles stuff inside me right now, in the best way possible. If I never saw Medusa or Crona or that frog lady again it'd be all too soon. Not that I hold a grudge against them - they did set me free after all. But I'm not the kinda man to be tied down to a contract. No sir. I was born to live Free.

Is it me, or is the sand vibrating a lot? There's something rumbling somewhere. Oh god, I'm sinking! I'm sinking! No one told me this was quicksand! No! Why were there no signs? I won't die but like, come on man! I'm not getting stuck in sand!

"HELP! HELP ME!"

But the couple of old men populating the beach are too deaf and too far away to hear me now. I sink into the sand, into darkness.

Ugh.

Then suddenly I fly into the air and hit something very, very solid.

"Goddamn it shi-"

I fall to the floor. Standing before is a huge man. There's something odd about him. He just kinda, stands out. To put another way, he's really flaming. I mean, he's literally on fire. He points a burning finger at me,

"YOU! SOUS CHEF!"

I nod, dumbstruck by his shininess.

"YOU WILL SERVE ME IN FIGHTING THIS."

He points behind me. I turn around and who do I see? Crona. They wave.

"I guess I wasn't the only one who got sent here," they say.

I hold my head in my hands.

"GODDAMMIT SHIIIIIII-"

AND THAT'S ALL WE HAVE TIME FOR THIS WEEK FOLKS! TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR

MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE

MEISTERCHEF!

[fart noises]


YET ANOTHER BOWEL-TASTIC SURPRISE! EVEN I DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING! I DIDN'T SMELL IT COMING EITHER! I LOVE YOU ALL AND THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS! THEY'RE AMAZING AND YOU'RE AMAZING AND RAMSAY DOESN'T LOVE YOU BUT I DO!