Guy Fieri Responds to the New York Times' Restaurant Reviewer

By

Streeter Seidell

          Open on Guy, reading the NYTimes

          G: Whu-oh! Looks like Peter Wells from the New Dork Times
          didn't dig my new BESTaraunt, Guy's American Kitchen and Bar
          in Times Square. He's eviscerating my new joint and he's
          doing it HIS way! I just gotta check this out!

          (cut)

          Here are some quotes... (these should appear on screen, over
          me reading)

          - Hey, did you try that blue drink, the one that glows like
          nuclear waste?

          - When you hung that sign by the entrance that says, WELCOME
          TO FLAVOR TOWN!, were you just messing with our heads?

          - And when we hear the words Donkey Sauce, which part of the
          donkey are we supposed to think about?

          (mimicking tasting something)

          OK, I'm getting some bitterness..some resentment...that
          predetermination is really coming through!

                                                              CUT

          This guy's got all kinds of questions like that. And let me
          answer them all with my favorite word: Yes! That's my thing,
          hombre! Positivity!

          Guy, do you want to wear three wristbands on your forearm?
          YES! (a 'rock n' roll' font YES appears with each punch)

          Guy, do you want to write a cookbook with the dudes from
          Smash Mouth? Yes!

          Guy, are you a time traveler from 1997, sucked into a
          wormhole and deposited in modern times? Yes!

          (CUT - abrupt punch in)

          And I will find a way back to my own time

          (back to normal)

          I'm all about yes! And this world could use a few more
          people like me: portly, permanently sunburned so-cal santa
          clauses dipping a finger in your sauce and telling you it's
          outta bounds.

                                                              CUT

          But bummer you had a bad time at my new grub hub, bud! I
          hate seeing people down in the dumps. And speaking of dumps,
          if you and the crew from the Times rolls by again, don't
          order the Ooey gooey mooey bonanaza burger with Guy's S.O.G.
          (words appear spelling out "Salt. Oil. Grease.") fries. The
          beef shipment we got last week was like Billy Zane in
          Titanic: It went bad! Eat that and you'll get a case of
          GUYarrhea!

                                                              CUT

          I'd love for you to come on back to Flavor Town, New York
          Times. Be like Jennifer Love Hewitt in the end of Can't
          Hardly Wait, and give me another chance. Come back and try
          the joint again and we'll pull out all the stops - We've got
          some killer new dishes that will make your taste buds scream
          louder than I do when I get my hair chemically whitened!

                                                              CUT

          Kickin chicken Fieri's fiesta fajitas with Douche sauce.
          Guy's Gargantuan Gallon of Gravy and grits. Bodacious
          Blackened beans and baked brie on a bed of brioche and
          branzini bits! That one is so good I'd eat it on a flip
          flop! Scratch that, I will eat it on a flip flop, because
          that's what it's served on!

                                                              CUT

          But hey, this is America and everyone is entitled to their
          opinion! I can't change your mind, just like I can't change
          my look. If I did other time travelers from 1997 wouldn't be
          able to recognize me as one of them. I think the food at
          Guy's American Ktchen and Bar is off the chain wallet, but
          the NY Times and I are just going to have to agree to
          disagree. The important thing is that we're both doing it
          OUR way! But one last thing before I go, Peter Wells

          (Cut, punch in)

          Lick my sunburnt taint, you pretentious, elitist
          pencil-pushing dickweed. Enjoy scribbling your critiques on
          a Tumblr after the internet kills your wheezing, geriatric
          husk of a business model you irrelevant, chirping assbag!
          I'm an icon and a treasure, you're an afterthought and an
          artifact.

                                                              CUT

          Mi case, su case hombres. Come back anytime. I'll mix up a
          special batch of Donkey Sauce for you! (mimics jerking off)

          I'm Guy Fieri, and I'm living in a pre-9/11 world!