“I’m the most vital ingredient in this dish.”
“Rubbish!” cried Tom. “I’m a beef tomato. Like, the king of tomatoes.”
“You’re just the fat tomato,” sneered Moz, “that’s all. Meanwhile, I’m buffalo mozzarella. Buffalo beats cow any day.”
“Whatever. My point is that you’d be nothing without me. Blander than a piece of paper. You’re worthless without other flavours and I have the sharp, sweet acidity needed to make this dish.”
“No,” insisted Moz. “Everyone knows that a Caprese salad is all about the cheese. It’s basically a cheese platter for perpetual dieters. You’re just a healthy, boring addition to the main event, which is me.”
“No need to be so dramatic,” muttered Moz.
“No… look! I’m turning green. Oh, shit, so are you.”
“Not a chance,” scoffed Moz, “I’m fresher than…”
But then he spotted it. A patch of fuzzy green on his creamy, porcelain flesh. And it was growing.
The two ingredients began to wail and yell as mould grew at an appalling rate upon their bodies.
A dark, twisted chuckle silenced them. It was Basil.
“You’re both absolutely tasteless. I’m the key flavour to this dish, so I poisoned the pair of you. Good riddance.”
The world shifted.
Fingers gripped the edge of the plate upon which the Caprese salad was presented. The ingredients fell silent as the human transported them across the room, and tipped them all straight into the bin.
Tom and Moz whimpered deplorably, while Basil harrumphed and sighed.
“You’re a bloody idiot, Basil,” said Olive. “He’s never going to eat anything that’s been touching mouldy food, is he? Now we’re all in the sodding bin. I’m virgin olive oil, y’know? I deserve better.”Follow Ellie Scott on WordPress.com