Contract Cooks

You're a contractor in the food industry. The agency cares about one thing: whether you can hold down a midnight shift at a diner or a heatwave at a coffee shop where everyone suddenly wants ice. You pick the jobs off the board. Sometimes you walk into a clean kitchen. Sometimes the last cook ran out the back door an hour ago.

Each contract gives you a location, a stint of three to seven days and a set of conditions that fit the place. Office cafes get rush hour. Fine dining gets critics. Airlines get... whatever's wrong with airlines. You start with one dish on the menu and it's usually something simple. Then it gets worse.

Cooking is grounded but quick. A coffee is grind, pull, froth, pour. Bread is mix, shape, prove, bake. Every step is something a cook would recognise, none of them take longer than they need to.

You've got two hands, your co-op partner has two more. Hand things off, top each other up or just work on the same dish together. At least when the milk frother gets left on, there's someone else to blame.

At the start of each day you pick a modifier. Some make your life harder (blackouts, impatient customers, a new dish on the menu you've never made before). Some make it easier (auto stock subscriptions so you're not reordering ingredients every morning, loans for better equipment at the cost of your revenue). Want a chill shift? Stack the easy ones. Want a massive payout? Work for it. 

Stock doesn’t refill itself. Order resupplies, collect deliveries from a very reliable delivery company, organise things on shelves or let the boxes pile up. We're not going to tell you how to run it. Rearrange the space, upgrade stations, put in an open fridge if you're tired of opening the fridge. Just don't mind the electricity bill.

Every contract pays. The harder you make it, the more you get. The money builds your resume and unlocks new dishes, cuisines, locations and special contracts. The unlocks carry over. The kitchens don't.