grimes and elon go to eat at gordon ramsay’s restaurant

“Babe, I’m so hungry…” Elon whined. “What do you want to do for dinner?
I can order the UberEats drone to pick something up for us if you’re too tired to go out again.”
Claire responded. Elon had been a couch potato this week, he really wanted to continue binging anime with
his premium Crunchyroll subscription, but Claire’s tone was pointed.
He could immediately tell she seemed upset with merely resting, despite being pregnant. 

“I’m waiting…” Claire scoffed. “Okay, okay. What about one of Gordon’s restaurants, we can go and
get a nice table.” Elon responded. Claire smirked, “Aren’t you banned from all of his nearby restaurants
for cyber warfare…? That’s why we haven’t been to any of them together yet.”

She was right. Elon had hacked into the waitstaff’s POS system at one of Gordon’s Las Vegas eateries
in 2013. He was trying to change an embarrassing tip he left. He realized that when you’re a billionaire
it doesn’t look good to only leave a 20% tip - and got really self conscious about it. This stunt resulted in
Elon being banned from every restaurant owned and operated by Gordon Ramsay on the west coast.
Gordon was scared of what Elon was capable of technologically and decided to cut his losses, they’re
not on the best of terms now. “Let’s go to New York City, Claire.” Elon rebutted. “What? I thought you
were hungry… you want to travel now? That’s so much stress on me and the baby.” Claire responded.
Elon had recently won an eBay Motors auction for a high-speed (electronically powered) teleportation
device. According to the tracking chip he secretly implanted into the FedEx delivery guy, he would be
receiving the package any second now.

As if by magic - the doorbell rang. “Were we expecting anyone?” Claire said, surprised.
“Yes.” Elon responded as he sprung off the couch, littering fragments of tortilla chips everywhere.
He jogged half a mile to the foyer in order to give the doorman permission to allow the FedEx delivery
guy in. Claire waddled behind him, annoyed. “He’s so immature...” she thought to herself.

While signing for the package, giddy like a young boy ordering Dip’n’Dots at a public pool, he looked
over to Claire. “You’re not going to believe what I won on eBay Motors, babe!” he exclaimed.
Claire had had it. “It’s a teleportation device. We can be at Gordon’s restaurant by 8:00pm EST…
I’ll go ahead and make a reservation on OpenTable.” Elon said. “What?! I thought Tesla already had
plans for those - why did you order that thing?” Claire responded, in disgust. “Babe, I couldn’t wait to
build one that looked more sleek. I think this will really help with your tour, and I’m not sure when we
will have our version perfected.” Elon responded with a concerned tone. 

“Is it safe for the baby?” “Yes it is.” “Okay, let me get dressed.” 

Claire threw on a metal corset that was custom built for her belly size that week. She hadn’t had a
chance to wear it out yet, and was really excited. She paired the corset with a flowy blush pink chiffon
blouse from Jean Paul Gaultier. Elon paused Crunchyroll and quickly changed into a Gucci tracksuit,
now that Claire seemed almost ready to go. As Claire put the final touches on her psychedelic makeup
look, Elon rested on the chase lounge in their bedroom and laughed at Twitter videos to himself. His
volume was all the way up on his phone, which Claire seemed obviously annoyed with.
“Can you put your phone down, Elon? I’m ready. Did you get the table?” she nagged.
“Ugh. Yes babe, I got the table. Let’s go, I'm so hungry...” Elon whined in response.
They both walked down the hall into their 1 acre Tesla garage and activated the portable
teleportation device. Before they knew it they were standing outside of Gordon’s chic eaterie.
“Wow. That was so easy, I’m glad you got this thing on eBay Motors.” Claire said, with a lisp.
They strolled into the restaurant with confidence, Claire holding the door for Elon.
Claire immediately walked up to the hostess’ stand with power and said “Boucher-Musk, party of two.”
The couple was quickly seated at one of the best tables in the restaurant…
but not the table Elon had specifically requested through the OpenTable app.
This enraged him - he meekly asked Claire to get the attention of their server.
Their server, Natalia, picked up her pace and asked if everything was alright. “No.” Elon responded.
“There is a draft here, can we please be seated at the original table I requested through OpenTable?”
Natalia gasped, “Yes! Just a moment Mr. Musk, let me check with our hostess. There must’ve been a
mistake, thank you for being patient with us.” Elon grunted in response, which embarrassed Claire.
“I’m going to run to the ladies room - you’ll be fine handling this one yourself, right?” Claire said with
disdain. Elon continued to mumble to himself about the draft as he zipped up his Gucci tracksuit more.
Claire’s metal corset baby bump distracted patrons as she hastily waltzed towards the ladies room.
While powdering her nose, Claire looked behind her in the mirror…
“Wow, long time no see Claire - I see you’ve gained some weight.” Bella Hadid barked in a menacing tone.
“Um, Hi Bella - I heard you shitting in there.” Claire retorted, standing her ground.
Bella’s entire demeanor shifted instantly out of embarrassment. Bella exited the ladies room.
Meanwhile, in the main dining room Elon was being relocated to the table he originally asked for, sans draft.
“Anything else I can get for you Mr. Musk?” Natalia asked sincerely. “That’ll be all for right now…”
Elon mumbled bashfully. “Actually, I can hear Claire’s metallic banging from across the room.
Could you escort her to the table so she’s not confused?” He added with more confidence.
“Yes, right away sir.” Natalia responded before dashing across the dining room to retrieve Claire.
Eventually Claire plopped down into her seat across from Elon, sweating profusely.
“Elon… I need shellfish immediately.” She said quickly before snatching the menu from him.
“It looks like Gordon will be serving butter poached langoustine tonight as a special, sweetheart.
You should order that. I’m sure it’s delicious.” Elon said with a grin. Natalia returned to the table
with the bottle of 1947 Chateau Cheval Blanc Elon had ordered for himself while Claire was powdering
her nose. “Yummy!” He proclaimed. “Can I get the langoustine as quickly as possible?” Claire said,
interrupting Elon. “And some condiments?” She added. “Of course. Which condiments would you like?...”
As Natalia spouted off names of condiments “...a tamarind balsamic reduction, black garlic aioli,
or whipped sesame oil…” Claire couldn’t help but think about French’s classic yellow mustard.
She had a one track mind now. “Gordon doesn’t normally serve our langoustine dish with any
condiments as it’s such a delicate and luxurious protein - but I’m sure he would be happy to make an
exception for you, Miss Boucher...” Natalia continued. “French’s classic yellow mustard!” Claire exclaimed.
“Excuse me?” Natalia responded, confused. “I want French’s classic yellow mustard.” Claire repeated.
“I’m pregnant, please tell me you have this mustard.” She added, sounding slightly defeated - but
not embarrassed. “I’ll check with Gordon directly and ask if we have French’s classic yellow mustard.
In the meantime, I’ll get that langoustine started for you.” Natalia said, optimistically.
“Would you like to put in your order now Mr. Musk? So the dishes come out together?” She added.
“Yes. I’ll take the filet mignon. Well done.” Elon had been afraid to eat any semblance of raw meat after
his less than ideal experience in Japan with a faulty wagyu beef cut in 2008. He’d decided that his
stomach just couldn’t handle it anymore. Natalia nodded and went into the kitchen to ask Gordon about
the French’s classic yellow mustard. “Are you joking? These idiots are going to order one of the most
delicate and luxurious proteins available and then slather bloody mustard on the poor bloke?! That’s not
an honorable death for this langoustine. I simply won’t allow such behavior in my own establishment.”
Gordon ranted. “What should I tell them?” Natalia asked, feeling small. “Show me to their table.”
Gordon responded. Gordon rushed out of the kitchen and surveyed the room, looking for Elon. Spotted.
Elon was playing with the zipper on his Gucci tracksuit again and guzzling the expensive wine he ordered,
oblivious to the chaos that was about to unfold. Gordon rushed over, furious. Everyone in the restaurant
was staring. He arrived at the Boucher-Musk party of two’s table. “I thought I banned you!
And now you TRAVEL to insult my business and it’s fine cuisine?! Unbelievable!” Gordon shouted.
“But Gordon…” Elon interjected. “No. Let’s take this outside - I don’t want to disturb the customers who
respect my craft.” “Gordon… did you happen to have French’s classic yellow mustard back there?
I really want some for my langoustine.” Claire asked. “The reason you two are in this bloody mess in
the first place is because of that horrendous request, yeah?! So come on. We’re taking a stroll outside.”
Elon and Claire reluctantly stood up and slowly trail behind Gordon through the kitchen and eventually
out of the back door to the restaurant. Gordon makes them sit down on plastic crates where the staff sits
while on their smoke breaks. He goes on to lecture them about how delicate and luxurious the
langoustine is - Elon and Claire are getting increasingly more hungry and bored with Gordon’s TED Talk
on the perfect butter poached langoustine. They give each other a special look, signaling Elon to whip
out the teleportation device. They both disappear into thin air, leaving Gordon in complete shock.
This stunt really cemented the restraining order Gordon Ramsay was already considering against
both Elon and Claire. When they returned to their lavish LA homestead the couple ordered
drone UberEats from IHOP after the long night out.

Elon resumed his anime dub on Crunchyroll.