Things are starting to unravel for the red team, though, because Elise's increasingly abrasive bossiness has started to wear on the rest of the women. "Elise has an awfully big mouth," Natalie tells us, adding that Elise is yelling, not leading. So Natalie visibly enjoys it when Ramsay gives Elise shit for interrupting him and talking over him and pointing at him, telling her he's not going to tolerate her "big fat mouth," and he'll kick her out. "Finally someone can get Elise to shut up!" Jennifer tells us.
In the blue kitchen, the first entrée still isn't out, so Paul makes the mistake of acting like an asshole, which he confuses for taking charge, and Will and Tommy both snap at him for it. But Tommy's overcooked duck doesn't pass muster, and he sends it back, leading to a little bit of wolfpack griping.
The women are halfway through their tickets, with Elise finished with her Ramsay-inspired code of silence. Truth is, she doesn't appear that bad; someone does have to lead the team, and no one else seems to be willing to take it up. She does come across as a little condescending, but they are winning. "We are definitely rockin' it out," admits Krupa. At least they were, until she drops a prime rib on the floor. A much chagrined Ramsay gets Monterray to get another one on the go for butterfingers there. "Do not drop it!" he orders her.
And it's the third try for the men's first entrée, and -- oh, there's Ramsay starting off with, "Oh, come on" as he inspects the sea bass. Undercooked. "Come ON, bro!" yells an increasingly agitated Will. "Brendan, you suck! You SUCK!" Will tells us. Don't tell us! Tell him!
Ramsay tells the blue team to stop, and then lists all the ways he which they have displeased him tonight -- the risotto, the duck, the sea bass -- and he orders all of them upstairs. "Made us look like a bunch of sissy-ass bitches, man!" laments Jonathon. Well, one could make the argument that you made yourselves look like ... well, like a bunch of sissy-ass bitches, to use your parlance.
Ramsay calls over four women to finish the job of the men, which Paul amusingly calls "the most infuriating, slap in the face, literally [sic] whipping your dick out and slapping it across my face feeling that I have ever had in my life."
So upstairs, the men smoke angrily and Will talks about how he has never been thrown out of a kitchen, and Paul is apoplectic. I think his head might literally explode. Yes, I know what the word means. THIS IS WHAT I'M SAYING. He's yelling at everybody who isn't him for not being able to cook. "We're all supposed to be professional chefs, right? So what the fuck?" yells Will at the group, and he kicks something, and he tells us that he did not come here to be made a fool of. No one does, dude. But that happens to many contestants.