[He stands frozen for a few seconds, confused. One hand is holding onto the chef's collar, the other hand is clenched into a fist, halfway to the guy's face. Silence, then he suddenly starts to cackle.]
Oooh! Chill! Gotcha! That's a good one! Time to put this guy on ice!
[And with that, he turns and starts dragging the chef towards the big walk-in fridge. Or, well, the Victorian equivalent of it. Cold storage is cold storage!]
no subject
[He stands frozen for a few seconds, confused. One hand is holding onto the chef's collar, the other hand is clenched into a fist, halfway to the guy's face. Silence, then he suddenly starts to cackle.]
Oooh! Chill! Gotcha! That's a good one! Time to put this guy on ice!
[And with that, he turns and starts dragging the chef towards the big walk-in fridge. Or, well, the Victorian equivalent of it. Cold storage is cold storage!]