Ted Allen: Four chefs. Three courses. One amazing meal. The stakes have never been higher. The ingredients have never been more outrageous. Who will come on top in this very special Super Bowl competition, and walk home with $10,000? And who will be sent home? Let’s meet our contestants.

Tommy: FACK YOU! COOKING SHOWS AHHHH FAHHH FAGGOTS! Now 90210? That’s a real man’s show! I bet Grawnk wawtches it while he’s fackin’ a porn stahhhhhh!

Fat Hump: My name is John Johnson. I live and work right here in Indianapolis. I’ve worked for many acclaimed chefs in my lifetime. Papa John. Tony Roma. Mr. Quizno. Culinary giants. I’d like to think that I have what it takes to win the ten grand. My focus is on bold flavors, but I also like down home comfort food in extremely large, unhealthy portions.

Sex Cannon: You know my name. My cooking is pure pussybait. One whiff of my gastrique, and the panties go a-droppin’.

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: Hey yo, I’m Vinny Scagdaviglio. My boys back at Wolfgang’s will KILL ME if I don’t beat these pussies! I’M ITALIAN! I COME FROM A BIG FAMILY THAT LOVES TO EAT! TOTALLY UNIQUE FROM OTHER STANDARD NEW YORKERS!

Tommy: You’re a faggot!

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: Eat shit!

Ted Allen: There are three rounds: appetizer, entrée, and dessert. Each round comes with its own mystery basket of ingredients. You MUST use every ingredient in your basket in some way. Also available to you: our pantry and fridge. Each round is timed. Your dishes will be judged based on Presentation, Taste, and also Creativity. If your dish does not cut it, you will be chopped.

(awkward five second shot of each contestant reacting to that news)

Ted Allen: Please, open your baskets. (watches them open baskets) And your appetizers must include…

MISO PASTE…

PIG’S FEET…

PEANUT BUTTER…

and MILK DUDS.

Tommy: The fuck is miso paste? THIS SMELLS LIKE SLOPE FOOD!

Ted Allen: Twenty minutes on the clock, and your time starts NOW.

(everyone rushes to the pantry)

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: I haven’t had Milk Duds since I was a kid goin’ to the movies, you know?! I was eating them and fingerfucking Donna Scududa at the same time! HIGH FIVE, AMIRITE?!

Sex Cannon: I look at the basket, and instantly my dick gets hard. MISO HORNY. I know immediately where I’m going with this. I’m gonna whore this basket. I’m gonna drop a gallon of cum in this basket. The $10,000 is in the bag.

Tommy: PIG’S FEET AHHH FAHHH FACKIN’ DAHKIES!

Fat Hump: I see everyone jockeying for ingredients, but I like to move at my own pace. I’m quite slow. I see these ingredients, and I think BACON. Everyone likes bacon, right? So I am going to make a peanut butter bacon loaf with bacon croutons, served with a warm bacon fat cocktail on the side. I feel like that’s a good representation of who I am as a chef. I have NOT worked with pig’s feet before. I didn’t even know pigs had feet, to be honest. Was I not supposed to eat all my Milk Duds just now? Because I did.

Ted Allen: While they’re getting busy in the kitchen, let’s meet our judges. He’s the master of high end New York cooking, Geoffrey Zakarian.

Zakarian: (awkward nod to the camera)

Tommy: HE LOOKS LIKE A GIRL!

Ted Allen: The queen of fine dining, Alex Guarnaschelli.

Alex: (terrifying, unnatural smile)

Sex Cannon: Aw man, where’s Freitag? I wanna bend her over the chopping block and show her my rolling pin.

Ted Allen: And modern Italian master, Scott Conant.

Conant: (flashes creepy beard stubble)

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: CONANT! MY BOY! Us goombas gotta stick together, AMIRITE?!

Conant: (smiles that kind of smile where it’s clear that he hates you)

Zakarian: This is not an easy basket by any stretch of the imagination. Pig’s feet have a gelatinous texture that some people find offputting, so you really have find a delicate balance there.

Conant: I think the miso paste may be the trickiest element in this basket.

Alex: Agreed.

Conant: It’s got a kind of cloying sweetness that can overpower everything else, so they’re gonna have to transform that ingredient.

Sex Cannon: I’m roasting the pig’s feet with some Chinese five spice and pink sea salt, and I’m gonna serve it on a warm radicchio salad with a peanut/miso dressing. Then I’m gonna put one of my ball hairs on top for garnish and I’m gonna watch Queen Bitch over there choke it down.

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: Pig’s feet? What a fucking shit ingredient. That’s poor people food. That ain’t proper Italian food. I’m making a Brooklyn-style pizza, with the feet, and it’s gonna be in the shape of a foot. FUCKING PLAYFUL.

Tommy: I am making CHOWDAH! Fack these quee-ah ingredients. No one wants to see those ingredients in a championship Chawpped matchup. NO ONE DENIES THIS.

(throws basket away)

Alex: Did you see that? Tommy just threw out his entire basket.

Zakarian: He’s also putting clamshells in the blender. I’m extremely concerned.

Fat Hump: I see the clock counting down, and it’s going very fast! And I take a look at my bacon loaf, and it is NOT cooking through. This is a problem. I gotta improvise. I’m gonna wrap it in seaweed and do a kind of Indiana take on traditional sushi. Now I’m thinking I got a real chance. Now I’m thinking I can really win this thing!

Tommy: I AM LOOKING AROUND FAHHH THE HEAVY CREAM AND THEY-AHHH IS NO HEAVY CREAM! SHADES OF TYREE! If I lose because of this, it won’t be becawse the othah chefs ahhh bettah! It’ll just be luck!

Zakarian: Did you see John’s work station? He’s left bacon drippings all over everything and hasn’t cleaned any of it up. I have a real problem with that.

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: I get that miso and I smell it and it’s fucking gross. Like, I don’t get why some guys have yellow fever. That’s never been my thing. Anyway, I look over at Conant, and I know he hates red onions. But he’s never had MY red onions. I’m gonna make him the best red onion carpaccio he’s ever tasted. It’s a risky move, I know it’s gonna pay off.

Conant: Is he using red onions? What is he, a fucking asshole?

Ted Allen: One minute to go, chefs!

Zakarian: I’m really worried they’re not gonna get everything on the plate.

Alex: GET IT ON THE PLATE.

Tommy: FACK YOU, YOU FAT CUNT!

Sex Cannon: Everyone else is frantic, but I finished nineteen minutes go. Then I ripped a bong hit and nailed a production assistant. This is NOTHING.

Alex: I think Rex really used his time poorly. He could have used that time to COOK his pig’s feet.

Ted Allen: And ten, nine, eight, seven…

Tommy: SHIT!

Ted Allen: Six, five, four, three, two, one… TIME’S UP! STEP AWAY!

Fat Hump: I look down at the plate, feeling great, and suddenly I realize: THE PEANUT BUTTER. I forgot the peanut butter. Mainly because I smeared it on my Andrew Luck jersey and ate it.

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: I’m looking at all the other plates. Tommy’s got a bowl of milky chowder jizz. The Fat Hump forgot 27 ingredients. And Grossman made a salad. Pathetic. I’m not losing.

Ted Allen: You have arrived at the chopping block. Four of you were here. But soon, there will only be three.

Tommy: We can do math, dicksuckah!

Ted Allen: Chef Tommy, tell us what you’ve prepared.

Tommy: CLAM CHOWDAH! WITH REAL CLAMS! NONE OF THOSE FAGGOT CLAM STRIPS! I’m nawt worried about you hating my dish. I have the backing of the PEDROIAH FAITHFUL. Did you see how we made Cunty Cundiff miss that kick? OW-AH MAGIC!

Zakarian: Well, the soup is divine. It has that great clammy taste that you want out of a clam chowder, and you had a deft touch with the milk.

Tommy: Thanks, dickhead!

Zakarian: But I’m not getting the pig’s feet. Or the miso paste. Or the peanut butter. Or the Milk Duds. You didn’t really use anything in the basket.

Tommy: Yeah no, fack that basket.

Zakarian: This is a serious competition. You can’t just make anything you like.

Tommy: AHHH YOU TRYING TO EDIT ME? NO ONE EDITS ME! STET ALL CHANGES!

Ted Allen: Chef Rex, tell us what you’ve prepared.

Sex Cannon: What you have in front of you is a warm pig’s feet salad with a peanut/miso dressing. I melted down the Milk Duds and made a Asian/Latin mole sauce with it, to give the pig’s feet that extra dimension.

Conant: This is excellent.

Sex Cannon: Thank you, Chef. I like to cook because I think it expresses so much about who I am, and it allows me to express what it means to be human. Also, it gets me blowjobs.

Alex: (frowning)

Sex Cannon: The fuck is your problem? Everyone else liked it.

Alex: Well, you’ve got this great-tasting dish. I’m just curious as to why you served it all on top of an old issue of Club International magazine.

Sex Cannon: That’s presentation. I serve my food HOT. If that’s too edgy for you. If you need to play it a little safer, honey, then whatever.

Alex: (ten minute stare)

Sex Cannon: Can you stop staring at me for so long?

Ted Allen: Chef John, tell us what you’ve prepared.

Fat Hump: What I’ve made today is a bacon sushi roll, served with a bacon jus, and topped with Cool Whip.

Alex: Did you make the Cool Whip yourself?

Fat Hump: No, ma’am. I don’t mess with perfection.

Alex: Well, I have to say (ten minute pause where it seems like she’s about to say she hates it)… I LOVED THE DISH.

Fat Hump: Whew! Thank you.

Zakarian: Well, it’s certainly whimsical. But, there are so many technical flaws here that I can’t overlook. The bacon is quite underdone in the center. Raw, really.

Fat Hump: I kind of like my bacon rare, to be frank.

Zakarian: (stares at him like he’s about to rip his heart out)

Ted Allen: Thank you, Chef John. Now, Chef Vinny.

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: Hey, I’m Italian, so I made a pizza. The fuck you gonna do, right? Had to stay true to my roots.

Tommy: ROOTS IS A DAHKIE SHOW!

Conant: Did you use any red onions in here?

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: About six pounds worth, yes.

Conant: Okay, you know I hate red onions, right?

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: Well I…

Conant: No, no, no. Let me finish. I hate red onions. And you gave me red onions. What do I do with you?

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: I think you’re wrong for not liking it. It’s awesome. I’ll defend my dish. I’m not gonna go home just because you have some gay onion allergy.

Zakarian: I loved your pizza, but I’d like to know why Scott and Alex got Milk Duds and I didn’t. (death stare) I would have liked to taste that, but you forgot it and now I’ll never get that chance, which is awful and horrible and it’s all your fault.

Ted Allen: Thank you, chefs. Our judges will now deliberate.

(they all leave)

Conant: Vinny has watched this show before. He knows I hate red onions. And what does he do? Red onions on his pizza. Is he retarded?

Alex: I liked that dish!

Conant: Oh give me a break.

Alex: I could see his soul in that dish. To me, he had the best cooked pig’s feet of the bunch.

Zakarian: But what about Rex? His dish was technically flawless. You just didn’t like the presentation.

Alex: He served it on a vagina.

Zakarian: I thought that was kind of daring. He’s the first Chopped contestant to use non-plates for plates.

Conant: Then you had that chowder that Tommy made.

Zakarian: It was good, but are we really gonna give him $10,000 for chowder?

Tommy: I FACKIN’ HEARD THAT!

Zakarian: What did we make of John’s dish? I mean, the portion size was INSANE! My plate was enough to feed sixteen people!

Alex: (reading from network script) There were some good dishes there, but were any of them TEN THOUSAND DOLLAR DISHES? Such a hard choice.

Ted Allen: Do you know who you want to chop?

Alex: Oh yeah. Very easy choice.

(everyone comes back in)

Ted Allen: For one of you, this is the end of the road. So… who’s dish is on the chopping block?

(lifts up plate cover, revealing all four dishes)

Tommy: FACK YOU!

Ted Allen: Chef Tommy, Chef Vinny, Chef Rex, Chef John–you’ve all been chopped. Judges?

Alex: Chefs, we were really impressed with your work today.

Fat Hump: Really?

Alex: No. All of you were horrible. And for that reason, we had to chop you.

Sex Cannon: Total bullshit. I don’t agree with judges at all. You haven’t heard the last of me. I’m gonna be making more pigs’ feet and scorin’ more tail and that’s no bullshit.

Mandatory Asshole New York Chef: They fucking chopped me! What are my PAESANOS back home gonna say? WE ITALIANS LIKE BUSTING BALLS!

Fat Hump: Certainly, I’m disappointed. I think, you know, maybe they weren’t ready for something that bold. I have no regrets. I made my food, my way, and at the end of the day, I’m proud of myself. I’m going places. You watch.

(dies of heart attack)