INT: Masterchef kitchen. John Torode and Gregg Wallace mulling over who should win the final.
JOHN: We started off with two hundred and thirty four amateur cooks, and over the last eighty-seven weeks, have whittled it down to these three exceptionally talented chefs. Today we've seen some brilliant food. We've seen skill, creativity and adventurous food. We've experienced flavours and textures I've not encountered before. But this is the final...
GREGG: ...And we've got to pick just one to be crowned our Masterchef of 2015. It's gonna be tough, John. Judging doesn't get any harder than this!
JOHN: Well let's start with someone who I thought struggled a bit today, and that's Jill.
GREGG: Brave menu choice though, John.
JOHN: True. I was excited by the thought of Chicken Carpaccio, Turkey Tartare, and twenty-eight-day aged Halibut Sashimi, but for me, Jill's dishes failed to deliver the sparkle I was hoping for. I don't know if it was the pressure of the final, or the effects of our explosive diarrhoea, but something definitely put Jill off her A game today.
GREGG: If Jill had served up a gem of a dessert like she did in the quarters, then maybe I would've overlooked the severe bout of Salmonella. You know me John, I'm a sucker for a good pud, but in my book, rancid halibut is not a good pud! Projectile vomiting doesn't get any harder than this!
(Gregg spews a stream of lime green vomit directly in to John's face)
JOHN: So we're both agreed. Jill's out of the running. What about the gorgeous Sophie?
GREGG: Ho, ho, our Soph. What an absolute stunner, John.
JOHN: Seriously, seriously fit, Gregg. And talented too. Sophie's salmon sphincter and scollop bollock risotto was heavenly, and she demonstrated some extraordinary knife skills in the preparation of her heritage carrot reduction.
GREGG: How she managed to reduce each carrot to exactly three microns is completely beyond me? That's Michelin star stuff there, John. My only disappointment? Again, no desert. Do you think Sophie left herself too much to do?
JOHN: I think it had more to do with her accidentally slashing her own carotid artery and bleeding to death, Gregg.
GREGG: Yeah, I think you're probably right, John. However, I'm not inclined to hold Sophie's untimely demise against her. I just think she's far too hot and horny to dismiss at this late stage. The contents of my boxers don't get any harder than this!
JOHN: Agreed. Despite being dead, Sophie's still in contention. That just leaves us with Mick.
GREGG: Ho, ho, ho. Mick! He might not win any prizes for presentation, but round after round, he's consistently delivered good honest plates of food that I just love.
JOHN: He certainly blew me away with his Toast Three Ways. Wonderful! Using a dash of Lee and Perrins to tie in the cheese on toast with the beans on toast and the spaghetti hoops on toast. Pure genius.
GREGG: His clever use of own brand beans. The man knows his ingredients, John. What about the rest of Mick's menu?
JOHN: A large Mighty Meat with oodles of extra mozzarella, side orders of Chicken Strippers and garlic bread, all finished off with a delicious tub of velvety Ben and Jerry's. Wow! What's not to like?
GREGG: I just worry that you may think he's played it a little too safe for the final?
JOHN: Not at all. Mick's use of the phone was inspired and his timing was perfect. There were no guarantees that the delivery driver would find the address, but everything arrived on-time and piping hot. Fantastic! Loved it. Loved it all.
GREGG: Me too. That bread, John. It was like a gloriously garlicky smack round the gob with a sweaty mafioso's greasy ball sack. I couldn't help myself, I just had to finish off the whole cholesterol laden box. My arteries don't get any harder than this!
JOHN: We could go on debating this all night, but I suspect that we both agree on who we think should be our winner.
GREGG: I think you're right John. Shall we put them out of their misery?
(John and Gregg prepare to deliver their verdict)
JOHN: The winner and BBC's Masterchef of 2015 is...
(Ridiculously long pause)
JOHN: ...Mick! Mick come up and collect your Masterchef 2018 trophy.
GREGG: Doling out the same old tat, week after f**king week, doesn't get any harder than this!