Plot Challenge: Chef's Secret Life

Diana

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Romance, Supernatural, Fantasy, Thriller, Space Exploration, Slice of Life
PLOT CHALLENGE

Plot challenges are designed to help you think quick and be inspired. We often play this game in the cbox, shouting out random words or phrases and see what ideas first pop in to people's heads.

To Participate: THINK FAST. Don't waste any time. The first idea(s) that comes to mind, write it down and post it!

NOTE: If you decide to borrow someone's concept for a roleplay, make sure you give credit.

Challenge Phrase
Chef's Secret Life
 
The Matenhurst Family. Famous for their parties, their lavish soirees. Considerably less famous is their Chef, a smallish, unremarkable man, who nonetheless somehow manages to whip up nine-course dinners with four hours' notice. And what, one might ask, is this Chef's name? Alas, the current generation of Matenhursts don't know. They inherited him, they say. Of course, nobody ever seems to notice that Lord Matenhurst the Younger never seems to attend his own parties....
 
By day, they run an five-star resturant in the cut-throat world of new york city cuisine.

By night...they protect the people of the big apple from the horrors that lurk in the shadows of modern, "normal" life.

It is the Van Helsing Bar and Grill, and it is mankind's first and last line of defence against occult horrors and alien monstrosities that would use their power to prey upon the weak of the world.

But maintaining that five-star rating while fulfilling their mission is harder than it sounds...and part of the employee contract states that should a chef fail in either area...

They must restore honor to the resturant by comitting ritual suicide!
 
The chef worked for the best restaurant in the world by day. But by night, he is an escort, trying his best to earn his keep in this world. When one of his clients finds out about his day job, he does everything in his power to keep the two world apart, but sometimes, the task isn't simple. Will his secret life be revealed or can he keep it in the closet?
 
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"What do you mean, 'it's not a good title?' It's a fantastic title! Really!" Pete's adamance was ignored by the stoney faces across the pitch table from him. A long, uncomfortable silence followed his outburst.

"Trust me, Pete" one of the Directors began slowly, "Ever since The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, no one wants to hear 'the secret life of anything' much less 'the secret life of chef.' It just..... sounds like a bad grammar rip-off, to be honest...."
 
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Claudia prepared the food elegantly, every plate was as beautiful as it was delicious. her acclaim was growing and she was very pleased. What had started out as a hobby was quickly becoming the biggest asset to her in the job that truly sustained her lavish lifestyle, assassin for hire. Killing people with beautiful food was so much less messy that guns and knives, and so much easier when they invited her into their homes.
 
"You can't... tell... anyone," Gouache said to Armony, leading the girl into a small crawl space in the station.

"Okay, okay, I won't. It's taken me like three months to get you to tell me what it is you've been doing back here. I'm not about to jeopardize it," Armony whined as she followed behind, her short hair seeming to ruffle at the implied accusation.

Gouache stopped to frown at her while on hands and knees within the crowded space, before pushing onward. Finally, he came out into a space that Armony recognized as a "holler" - a mechanical "dead space" where air pipes connected, pipes flowed, and bulkheads turned. This just happened to be a nice little level space, about five feet by five feet by seven, completely covered in scraps of blankets and dropcloths Gouache had probably pilfered. The real wonder, though, were the locker boxes he had set up, some of which had equipment on them that Armony didn't recognize.

"What the heck are these?" she asked as Gouache began to turn some knobs on one with a spiral metal design. The metal began to heat, and Gouache pulled out another metal thing - a dome shaped object with a spout on it and a handle. He put it on until Armony heard something bubble inside, then he poured a mug with the stuff. Her eyes were wide as he put in a few other things she didn't recognize - white crystals, along with a bag full of... something.

"This is tea," Gouache said, letting her carefully take it.

"Tea?" Armony asked curiously. "Is it... it's not like SOMA."

"No, not at all. It's just water with a little bit of stuff seeped into it."

"Why would you drink something like that?" she asked with a disgusted look on her face.

Gouache made a face, and Armony put her hand up in acquiescence, carefully taking a sip. Her eyes widened as she coughed on it, staring at the drink in her hand.

"I-it's sweet! What did you put in it?"

"Sugar."

"But... but only the Prefectors can get a hold of sugar. Gouache, what... what is this?" Armony asked, looking around her.

"I'll show you, how's that?" Gouache asked with delight, a crooked smile pulling at his mouth. The lanky boy began to pull things out of the lockers, explaining what each was: rice, freeze-dried vegetables, syntha-butter. Within thirty minutes, her mouth was watering at a smell she'd never encountered before as Gouache added a little bit of dried something or other - egg mix, he said - and finally served her something with a strange implement she didn't recognize.

"Spoon. You scoop with it," Gouache said, and Armony very carefully put some of the food in her mouth, humming with awe at the texture, the many flavors, the umami taste of egg and fat. She was about to scarf the rest down before Gouache stopped her and said, "Easy! You've been on SOMA for so long, I... I don't know if you can handle the solid stuff easy. Take a couple bites first, wait a bit, then try again, okay?"

Armony slowly, pensively chewed to savor the taste, and she asked, "Gouache... how did you get all this? This... I'd heard about stuff like this, you know, food that isn't SOMA, but... there'd be riots if they could taste this. We have to give some to Mom!"

"Armony, I said we can't tell anybody. Not even your Mom," Gouache warned, putting a hand on her knee as her face fell. "This... is dangerous. Really, I... I could get killed for keeping this stuff here. Imperators, Prefectors, they're the only people allowed to eat this stuff. They don't even cook it. Others do."

He withdrew his hand, tapping his spoon on his own plate - plate, another completely new concept. Armony chewed the thought as much as her food, and finally she said, "When can we come back again? After this?"

Gouache's face lit up. "I've got a schedule. The new shipments from Midbay 7 come in on Tuesday and..."
 
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The Leviathan is one of the most feared supervillains in downtown Manhattan- but by day, he's one of the most famous chefs of all time. You know his secret...but how does one convince people to shun a food icon?
 
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