To really push the boundries - maybe Chef Ramsey could let little Scott's legs wiggle free and poke out of his arse like when high powered politicians (or low powered whores) have butt-plugs rammed up their exit chutes with a horses tail on the end and then prance around the bedroom with a cardboard tube kitchen towel Sellotaped to his head pretending to be unicorns squealing, "Look at me - I'm a mystical magical creature." Before they break down and need to be comforted / given a line of K mixed with dried furniture polish... or whatever the kids are taking these days.
Anyway - brown is the new black.
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