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You think it’s easy, don’t ya?  Well, I got news for you, kid.  There ain’t nothin’ easy about this.  Its long hours, kid, many of them.  Hours spent on your feet, for days on end, weeks on end.  You will sweat, you will ache, you will cut, you will dice you will slice, and if you can handle the heat, you won’t burn out or get chopped.  There will be times when you wanna quit, kid, many of them, but this is where we sift those who can from those who merely think they do.  You will go home and fall exhausted on your bed, not even botherin’ to undress, let alone shower.  Only to get it up at daybreak and do it all again tomorrow.  Because at the end of the day kid, you know it will be worth it.  You will get up and don your stained white jacket and carry on, because at the end of the day, kid, when you walk outta here, you know you can go anywhere in the world.  You will have earned yourself a coveted career, kid, one that commands respect.  One that you can be proud of.  Because on graduation day, kid, you button up your brand new white jacket with your name stitched proudly across the breast, and you get to look at yourself with actualisation and accomplishment,  Because that day, kid, is the day you can call yourself a  chef.  A day you carry on a prestigious legacy, one that was started by thousands of graduates before you.  Graduates that went on to work in great hotels, cruise liners, the best restaurants in the world, and even became the head chefs of their own acclaimed establishments.  A day the world becomes your oyster, kid.  A day you can call yourself a graduate of the FBI.  And if that ain’t great kid, then I don’t know what is.

The future is yours for the takin' kid. Whatcha waitin' for?