Fuck Servers (and you)

Yea yea yea, it's been a while, I know.
Tough shit, I'm a busy man. Here's the dealio:
I get paid to arrange for a gaggle of doped up miscreants to come together like a well oiled machine and somehow meet the demands of a ravenous horde of money packing, piss moaning douche bags who would get their fucking throats cut by the very cooks who fed them should they meet in any other social setting. I know that sounds like a walk in the park but it's not nearly as easy as it sounds.
"Dude, court was fucked up today. I might need a week or two off soon." While I'm crafting a menu for a high end six course wine dinner. Rest assured that wine dinner will take place while one of my main guys gets sent to county for something that happened between him and one of the mothers of one of his children a few years ago. Fucking great. To top it off while I'm performing miracle #487 that day the spoiled useless server will convince him/herself that I have the time and/or care to hear that they're only going to make a mere 18% off the party and fill me in on what bullshit that is. Jesus Christ on a fucking cracker I will kill the next server that speaks to me. Dead. No trial, no jury. Straight to the fucking execution.

ATTENTION ALL SERVERS:
The Chef Hates You