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Elaine has to fire a man, but can't do it and ends up promoting him instead. The man that she promoted wears army fatigues and constantly talks about wars and battles. While working on the J. Peterman catalog, the man causes everyone to quit, leaving him and Elaine as the only employees. Jerry's new girlfriend has a friend who is being mentored by Kenny Bania, and later, Jerry becomes Kenny's mentor. Meanwhile, George learns about risk management by listening to tapes, and Kramer has Frank help him cook a Jewish meal.
George: I still don't understand this. Abby has a mentor?
Jerry: Yes. And the mentor advises the protégé.
George: Is there any money involved?
George: So what's in it for the mentor?
Jerry: Respect, admiration, prestige.
George: Pssh. Would the protégé pick up stuff for the mentor?
Jerry: I suppose if it was on the protégé's way to the mentor, they might.
George: Laundry? Dry cleaning?
Jerry: It's not a valet, it's a protégé.
Kramer: C'mon Frank, I need you. I mean the war was fifty years ago.
Frank Costanza: In my mind, there's a war still going on.
Kramer: Alright, what happened, Frank? What is it that you can't get over?
Frank pours a shot of whiskey and drinks it.
Frank Costanza: Inchon, Korea, 1950. I was the best cook Uncle Sam ever saw, slinging hash for the Fighting 103rd. As we marched north, our supply lines were getting thin. One day a couple of GIs found a crate, inside were six hundred pounds of prime Texas steer. At least it once was prime. The Use date was three weeks past, but I was arrogant, I was brash, I thought if I used just the right spices, cooked it long enough...
Kramer: What happened?
Frank Costanza: I went too far. I over seasoned it. Men were keeling over all around me. I can still hear the retching, the screaming. I sent sixteen of my own men to the latrines that night. They were just boys.
Kramer: Frank, you were a boy too. And it was war. It was a crazy time for everyone.
Frank Costanza: Tell that to Bobby Colby. All that kid wanted to do was go home. Well he went home alright, with a crater in his colon the size of a cutlet. Had to sit him on a cork the eighteen-hour flight home!
Kramer: Frank, now listen to me. Two hundred Jewish singles need you. This is your chance to make it all right again.
Frank Costanza: No. No, I'll never cook again! Never! Now get out of my house!! Get out. Go.