Act I

Dinner hour at a fancy Italian restaurant. Two brothers, one a head chef and one a sous chef. The kitchen is frantic. Waitresses are running in and out of the kitchen with full and empty trays. The sous chef is enjoying a glass of wine and flirting with the waitresses while the chef is running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Cooks are running around trying to help work on multiple dishes. Cooking utensils are clashing together to create cacophony of sounds. The cooks are communicating among themselves while the brothers are engaging in a tense conversation. The sous chef remains lax while head chef becomes more and more annoyed at his partner.

NARRATOR
These two are brothers, the fact blatantly obvious by their looks alone. The Pomodoro is a successful restaurant owned by the comical pair. For the sake of keeping in relation to the story, we will call these two ROMANO and PARMESAN; the Stinky Cheese Brothers.

ROMANO
"OI! Fratello! Stop flirting with the staff and get back to doing your job!" He is completely displeased with his brother.

PARMESAN
"Ve~? But Roma, I am working~"

CUT TO CLOSING OF RESTAURANT
The two step outside and Romano locks the door to the restaurant after another successful service. They step away from the doors. From on top of The Pomodoro sign falls a luscious tomato, hitting Romano on the head.

ROMANO
He turns and glares at his brother. "What was that for!?"

PARMESAN
"VE~! It's a message from the heavens, fratello!" He flails his arms.

ROMANO
"What are you going on about!?"

PARMESAN
"It's perfectly intact!" He picks the tomato from the ground and inspects it. "Even though you have a really hard head!"

ROMANO
"OI! What's that supposed to mean!?"

PARMESAN
"Well, you know what they say, fratello: a hard head means no brains…" He grins. He then gets an idea and his eyes light up. "FRATELLO, IT MUST BE A MAGICAL TOMATO!"

END ACT I

Act II

Back in the kitchen. Nighttime. After closing. The two brothers huddle around the mysterious tomato. Parmesan didn't even grab his signature glass of wine due to the excitement. He babbles on about nothing of importance while Romano doesn't even pay attention to anything but the tomato. Rubbing his chin, Romano is skeptical. The lights in the kitchen are dimmed, the tomato sitting on the island counter. Romano grabs a knife and decides that cutting the tomato is the most logical thing to do.

PARMESAN
"Oh~ the lighting is so romantic!"

ROMANO
Looks at his brother like he's crazy. "What in the hell are you talking about!?"

PARMESAN
"Fratello, haven't you been listening? I was talking about the pretty German lady who was in the other day!"

ROMANO
He facepalms. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop flirting with the customers!?"

PARMESAN
Finally notices that Romano has a knife in his hand. "F-fratello, why are you holding a knife..? PLEASE DON'T HURT ME I'M SORRY! I PROMISE I'LL STOP HITTING ON THE LADIES!" He wails loudly.

ROMANO
"Eh? What are you—Idiota, I'm not going to hurt you. It's to cut the tomato."

PARMESAN
Wipes his forehead and sighs in relief. "For a second there I thought you were going to kill me."

Romano mutters quietly.

CUTS TO EARLY MORNING
Romano is staring intently at the tomato while Parmesan is passed out on the counter, snoring.

ROMANO
Frustrated because nothing has worked. "Fratello, we've tried cutting it, throwing it at the wall, cooking it, and sitting on it…" the last part is muttered because it was Parmesan's strange idea. "Nothing has worked! What do we do now!?"

PARMESAN
Perks up out of nowhere. "How about we try burning it! Ve~"

ROMANO
He's horrified at the prospect. "ARE YOU CRAZY!? THAT IS THE SINGLE MOST HEINOUS CRIME IN CULINARY HISTORY!"

PARMESAN
Looking completely confused "…what culinary history..?"

ROMANO
"Are you kidding—Forget it."

PARMESAN
Perks up again. "I still think we should try burning it."

ROMANO
"Fine fine, I'll get the cooking torch."

PARMESAN
"E-eh…Fratello, I don't really feel comfortable with you using the flamethrower…"

ROMANO
"It's a cooking torch, not a flamethrower. It's small." Romano goes to find the cooking torch.

ROMANO tries burning the tomato and it fails like everything else. The only thing that actually burns is the hand towel nearby.

ROMANO
"LOOK WHAT YOUR IDEA MADE ME DO!" He yells are PARMESAN mostly due to fatigue as opposed to actual anger.

PARMESAN
Cries a little bit and begins singing about tomatoes and all their delicious glory.

"Alas, the tomato season is over.

The days of the beautiful fresh living beings

There will be no more hunting them

Those precious tomatoes

How we would hunt amongst their curvy legs and arms

Armed with empty baskets

Their voluptuous colour of their flesh

The flow of their juicy red blood

The war ensues between knife, cook, and tomato

Making the perfect sauce for spaghetti

Their fresh taste in a sandwich

Aye, the tomato season is out

How I would miss you so"

They both look at the tomato as it starts to glow a bright cherry red.

PARMESAN
Stops crying. "Fratello! Look look! I feel like those wizard people with the English accents!"

ROMANO
Shakes his head. "You mean Harry Potter?"

PARMESAN
"Yes! That hairy guy!"

ROMANO
"Hush, fratello. I'm trying to think how we could use this tomato to our benefit." Rubbing his chin in thought.

END ACT II

Act III

TIMESKIP OF A FEW WEEKS
We cut to the front of the restaurant where people are lined up to be seated.

CUT TO THE KITCHEN
The brothers' relationship is the same as ever: ROMANO is running around the kitchen while PARMESAN is, as per the norm, flirting with the ladies, be they customer or staff.

NARRATOR
Seeing as I finally get to speak again, I shall save you the annoyance of watching everything they do for the next few weeks. The overall point is that they decided to do something smart and plant the tomato so they could make the best tomato based sauces anyone has ever tasted.

They went as far as renaming their restaurant Magical Pomodoro. Business boomed more than ever as their restaurant became a household name.

All in all, the two brothers pretty much lived a happy life after that, doing what they loved to do and all that cliché junk. Good for them, but what about me? I work hard too. I don't get magical fruits that make everything awesome. I'm hardly even getting paid for this gig because I didn't really say anything through—[Voice fades as the narrator continues to rant]

END ACT III

END SCRIPT