Glad you could bake it, Uther.

Watch your tone with me, boy. You may be the waiter, but I'm still your superior as a chef.

As if I could forgetti. Listen, Uther, there's something about the plaguette you should knead. Oh no... It's too late. These peopleroni have all been infectedanana. They may look al dente now, but its a matter of thyme before they turn into the unedible.

What?!

This entire citrella must be peeled.

How can you even cook that? There's got to be some other whey.

Damn it, Umami. As your future chef, I order you to broil this city!

You are not my chef yet, boyardee. Nor would I obey that command if you were!

Then I must consider this an act of seasoning.

Seasoning? Have you sauced your mince, Arthas?!

Have I? Lord Umami, by my right of succession and the sovereignty of my crown of roast pork, I hereby rehydrate you from your commandard and suspenderoni your pepperoni from service.

Arthas, you just can't...

Ding It's done! Those of you who have the will to taste this flan, follow me. The rest of you? Get out of my kitchen.

You've just tossed a terrible salad, Arthas.

Jaina?

I'm sorry, Arthas. I can't watch you cook this.