Becoming an apprentice chef for an episode it’s pretty cool ! Join Alex
Morgan, Caroline Seger and Saki Kumagai to discover a purely French
tradition: La Chandeleur. Inside of the Brasserie Bocuse du Parc OL,
they will be coached by best chef Eric Pansu, to prepare the best
Warnings:NSFW 18+ Smut! Sexual penetration, oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, dirty talk, language, drinking, Bucky being everyone’s wet dream…
A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, but I worked HARD on this one and I’m totally proud of it! (and before anyone asks, Howl at the Moon is a real bar in Indiana!) Enjoy. :)
You stood in the street and looked up at the new sign that was being hung up in front of the building.
Howl at the Moon
Your pride and joy. You smiled with a shake of your head. This bar had just started out a little hole in wall. Nobody knew about it, and you were barely making ends meet with only 2 people on staff.
Now, it was a world-renowned biker bar. People from all over the globe have stopped in. You have worked hard to make it what it is. The many roaring engines from motorcycles and loud laughter rule this spot.
It kept your life interesting.
The alcohol stays flowing all night long and the grill stays hot. Your most popular item on the menu? Beer served in buckets. You would be surprised at how many buckets these burly bikers can put away.
Sing-a-longs, dance-offs and dirty humor keep your patrons coming back for more. Your lady bartenders have been known to jump on the bar to dance to some old rock n’ roll. Yourself included.
Ashley, your best friend, came up beside you and looked at the sign as well. “It looks fantastic.”
You poked her with your elbow, “Well I would hope you think so, you drew up the concept.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head, “I’m a genius.”
You looked up at the black wolf, nose pointed up at a blue moon with a howl. It was really going to stand out at night when it was all lit up.
“A good subplot not only pushes the plotline, it also intersects it. Subplots aren’t free floating, and they aren’t detours – they’re connected to the plot. They may be connected because the love interest on the subplot line pays off on the plotline. Perhaps the love interest (a subplot) in a detective story is a fellow detective who is working on the case (the plot) or is a witness or some other person who holds an important clue to solving the case. Perhaps the protagonist has a hobby or avocation (a subplot), such as jogging, mountain climbing, or kayaking, that pays off in the main story (the plot) by becoming the means by which the protagonist escapes danger.
A good subplot carries a story’s theme. The plot is what the film is about, but a subplot shows what the film is really about. Many times writers write scripts because of their interests in the significance of their subplots.
Subplots can be about almost anything. Often they’re the love story that tells us something about the nature of love. Sometimes they carry important individual themes of identity, integrity, greed, or “finding oneself.”
Sometimes a subplot reveals a character’s vulnerability. We often see this in detective films in which the macho detective has to be strong and prepared for anything on the plotline. But when he’s with his girlfriend or mother, we see his vulnerable side. Sometimes we see a character’s goals, dreams, and desires through subplots. It’s as if the character is too busy “doing” the plot to tell us much about himself or herself. Subplots give characters a chance to relax, to dream, to wish, and to think about larger visions.
A subplot can show us the transformation of characters. It can show us the beat-by-beat development of a character’s identity, self-esteem, or self-confidence. It can help us see why and how a character changes.”
Source: Seger, Linda. Making a Good Script Great, 3rd. Ed. Silman-James Press, 2010. Kindle File.
There was no such thing as Classic Rock in 1976 — the phrase, and the radio format it inspired, wouldn’t come into common usage until the mid-1980s. But there was already some notion of a rock and roll canon, a list of key albums that FM listeners needed to have in their collection. At the start of 1976, Bob Seger had zero albums on that list. Twelve months later, he had two: Live Bullet, the double LP documenting some blistering hometown sets at Detroit’s Cobo Hall, and Night Moves, his first platinum album, whose title single would peak at No. 4 as 1977 began.
His next record, 1978’s Stranger in Town, would go platinum within a month. I bought all three at once that year, because they were the ones Columbia House offered. But I knew there were others. As a budding, 13-year-old music obsessive, every record in the canon triggered a cascading need for several more. Some might be content with Elton John’s Greatest Hits, but I wanted the entirety of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, and then some way to prioritize the rest of his back catalog. Destroyer was not enough KISS; At Budokan was not the sum total of Cheap Trick.
Fast forward to this decade. I hear someone singing “If I Were a Carpenter,” which reminds me Seger did a surprisingly heavy version of that song on Smokin’ O.P.’s, which I haven’t heard for a while. I reach for my copy, only to find that it’s gone. This is bothersome, but correctable, I imagine. I am a gainfully employed adult, living in a city with multiple wonderful used record stores, plus there’s an entire Internet at my fingertips. I decide to go on a spree, replacing not just the missing album, but finally adding the several I never purchased to my collection.
But I discover something odd: Bob Seger’s old albums are not only missing from my shelves. They seem to be missing from the world.
Seger is one of the few remaining digital holdouts — there’s nothing beyond the odd Christmas tune available on subscription services, and even on iTunes his only studio album for sale is 2014’s Ride Out, which sits beside two anthologies and two live albums.