In flights of fury, the gods threw the rotten tomatoes into a basket. The basket was no ordinary basket. It was a sphere, holding ample amounts of water, sand and dirt, at the same time, in strategic places.
Some rotten tomatoes landed on the dirt. Others fell into the water and dissolved immediately. But one certainty was that all the rotten tomatoes found temporary lodging in the basket. There some tomatoes thrived, remaining for an extended period of time, happily enjoying the sun's rays dancing upon their thin skin. Others’ flesh rotted quickly—they disappeared from the basket in no time—living only for a brief moment in the basket.
The basket was just a temporary holding place for all the unwanted tomatoes. The gods often avoided the basket, as it was a disgusting place to be, full of grime and rotting, stinking tomatoes. Only on rare occasions was a good tomato found in the basket. The majority of tomatoes were despicable, ornery and hateful living fruit, causing only bruises and destruction for other tomatoes in the basket.
There was only one hope for the tomatoes in the horrible basket. That hope lay in each fruit not destroying other tomatoes. That hope was rare, as the basket was full of defunct and horrid tomatoes. But that one hope kept the basket from being completely destroyed. The gods barely looked at the basket, knowing it was filled with mostly crappy tomatoes that never regarded another tomato with any kindness or mercy.
The very few good tomatoes were eager to escape the torment of residing in the excruciating pain of the basket. One day the gods in a loss of hope and total frustration will destroy the basket so that no tomatoes ever exist again. Until then, the basket remains, twirling in its orbit in the gods’ kitchens.