Where's My Steak, Diane!

Gawdammit Diane! Shut those damn kids up and get to work in the kitchen! You think I spend all day workin' jus to come home to your screaming children and an empty table? I swear if you don't move that busted down ass into the kitchen, I'm gonna have to start drink'n that there whiskey. You know what happens when I start drink'n whiskey, now get!

Great! You found a book with pictures of food on it. Praise the Lord! Can you even read? I'm hungry and that there bottle is eyeballin' me. You better be fix'n me some shit from 1950!

Looks like you got it half right woman. I like the looks of that there steak Diane! Now what the hell is them 'shrooms and O-nee-ons doing next to my meat? Better not screw this one up, you're one mistake away from falling down the stairs again!

What is this here shit? Do I look like a beady-eyed, vegetable-eating rabbit? Am I a tiny lumberjack, Diane?

I want my meat Woman! Beef! The red shit that's inside dead animals. Not some Gawdamm steaming bowl of fungis and roots!

Gawdamn! That's the ticket woman! Steak, Diane!

What in the hell is that yellow shit? That better be cheese! Holiday sauce? What in the hell holiday are you talkin' bout? Everyday I bring home a paycheck is a holiday!

That's fine, real fine. Let me just move this shit off the top of my steak Diane and I can get to eatin'. You know what? Bring me down that there bottle. Nothin' goes better with meat than some of that there whiskey.

You're lucky Diane! Next time your ass is in real trouble if I have to come home to an empty table.

Now go make your own Steak Diane!