Banana Skin Bacon With Greta

INT. ZERO WASTE KITCHEN STUDIO โ€“ DAY

A rustic kitchen set, built from reclaimed barn wood and decorated with vintage cookware. A chalkboard reads โ€œZero Waste Kitchen with Nelly & Joeโ€. A live studio audience claps as the cameras roll.

ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Tonight on Zero Waste Kitchen, Nelly Furtado and Joe Jukic are joined by climate activist Greta Thunberg to cook something youโ€™ve never tasted beforeโ€ฆ banana skin bacon!

NELLY
(stepping forward, smiling at the camera)
Welcome back, everyone. Iโ€™m Nelly Furtado.

JOE
And Iโ€™m Joe Jukic. Today weโ€™ve got a very special guest with usโ€”someone whoโ€™s inspired millions to think about the future of our planet. Please welcome Greta Thunberg!

AUDIENCE
(applause, cheering)

Greta walks onstage modestly, smiling but reserved. She waves to the crowd.

GRETA
Thank you. Iโ€™m happy to be hereโ€”though Iโ€™m a little nervous about eating banana skins.

NELLY
(laughing)
Donโ€™t worry, Greta. By the end of this, youโ€™ll be asking for seconds.

JOE
Thatโ€™s right! Most people throw these peels away. But today, weโ€™re showing how food waste can becomeโ€ฆ food taste.

Joe dramatically peels a banana, tosses the fruit aside, and lays the peel on a cutting board.

GRETA
(raising an eyebrow)
Youโ€™re serious? Just the peel?

NELLY
Oh, weโ€™re serious. Check this out.

Nelly mixes soy sauce, maple syrup, smoked paprika, olive oil, and garlic powder in a bowl. The audience murmurs with interest.

NELLY (CONT’D)
This is our marinade. Weโ€™ll soak the banana skins for about 15 minutes.

JOE
(cutting in)
But since TV magic is faster than climate changeโ€”

AUDIENCE
(laughs)

JOE (CONT’D)
โ€”weโ€™ve already got some ready to fry!

He tosses the marinated peels into a sizzling cast-iron skillet. The sound of frying fills the air.

GRETA
(sniffing)
It actually smellsโ€ฆ like bacon.

NELLY
Exactly! Zero pigs, zero waste, one hundred percent flavor.

The banana skins crisp up. Joe flips them with exaggerated flair. The audience โ€œoohs.โ€

JOE
Look at that sizzle, folks. Thatโ€™s the sound of sustainability.

They plate the finished โ€œbaconโ€ strips beside fresh greens and homemade bread.

NELLY
Moment of truth. Greta, would you do the honors?

Greta cautiously picks up a strip, bites into it. Her eyes widen.

GRETA
(smiling)
Itโ€™sโ€ฆ crunchy, smoky, sweet. This could actually convince people.

JOE
And thatโ€™s the idea! Eating well and saving the planet at the same time.

NELLY
Zero wasteโ€ฆ

GRETA
Full taste.

AUDIENCE
(cheers, applauds)

NELLY (to camera)
Join us next time, when we turn coffee grounds into gourmet truffles.

The three raise their plates as the studio lights fade.

ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
This has been Zero Waste Kitchen with Nelly, Joe, and Greta Thunberg. Remember: donโ€™t throw it outโ€”throw it on the grill!

FADE OUT.

Helicopter Psychology

Scene: A private helipad. Nelly Furtadoโ€™s sleek helicopter rests beside Donald Trumpโ€™s MAGA-branded chopper. The two approach, both visibly annoyed.

Nelly Furtado: (sighs) You know what my therapist wrote in her notebook? โ€œNellyโ€™s narcissistic helicopter.โ€ Thatโ€™s what she calls it. Narcissistic. Like Iโ€™m punished for just being a rich girl.

Donald Trump: (pointing to his helicopter proudly) Excuse me, Nelly, but my helicopter? Totally not narcissistic. Everybody loves it. Itโ€™s the greatest helicopter, maybe ever. Mineโ€™s not about meโ€”itโ€™s about making America great again. Itโ€™s a MAGA-copter, not a me-copter.

Nelly Furtado: (folding her arms) Thatโ€™s the difference. You get rewarded for your helicopter. They cheer, they wave the flags. But me? I get labeled and judged.

Trump: (smirking) Well, maybe you should paint โ€œMAGAโ€ on it. Works every time. Tremendous branding.

Nelly Furtado: (shaking her head) No. Iโ€™m done. Iโ€™m giving it all upโ€”the private jet, the limos, the helicopter. Iโ€™m going to ride the bus with my husband Joe.

Trump: The bus? Nobody rides the bus, Nelly. Believe me, I know buses. Theyโ€™re disasters.

Nelly Furtado: (smiling softly) Thatโ€™s exactly the point. Cosmo Kramer said it best: โ€œIn order to lead the people, you must travel with them.โ€

Trump: (pauses, confused) Kramer? From Seinfeld? That guy couldnโ€™t even find his own apartment half the time.

Nelly Furtado: (firmly) He still had a point. Leadership isnโ€™t about helicopters. Itโ€™s about humility.

Trump: (snorts) Well, if you want humility, take the bus. But if you want to be great? Take the Trump-copter.

Nelly Furtado: (walking away) No thanks, Donald. Greatness isnโ€™t in the skyโ€”itโ€™s on the ground.

(She heads toward a waiting city bus. Joe waves from the window, holding her a seat. The bus door closes as Trump stares, baffled, beside his MAGA chopper.)

Protecting Mary’s Daughter

(They are in a quiet corner, away from a party or a crowd. Nelly looks stressed, and Joe moves to shield her from view.)

Nelly: (Sighs) “I can feel them staring. I know what they’re saying.”

Joe: (Stepping closer, his voice a low, steady murmur) “Let them stare. Let them say whatever they want.” He gently adjusts his stance, deliberately blocking her from the room. “I’ve been used to protecting you since the days of our Childhood Dreams. This is no different.”

Nelly: (Looks up at him, a worried crease in her brow) “But Joe… they’ll call you crazy. They’ll say you’re picking a fight, that you’re obsessed.”

A slow, defiant smile touches Joe’s lips. “I don’t care if the audience calls me crazy. I’ve learned not to give a fuck about their gossip. The only thing that matters is that you’re okay.”

Bono: (Looks at the sparkling skyline with contempt) “Your dreams were purer than this, kid.” He takes a long drink. “My bones… they’re not a message for me. They’re a message for you, Joe. A reminder that the network sees everything. You think the Mob runs this town? Amateurs. Thugs with cigars. The real power doesn’t get its hands dirty. It signs treaties. It wins Nobel Peace Prizes.”

He leans forward, the city reflected in his eyes. “The Bavarian Illuminati perfected the science of control. And their greatest student, the late Dr. Henry Kissinger, ran New York not from City Hall, but from the Grand Alpina Lodge. Every major developer, judge, and banker in there takes their orders. They are the deep state. Not a conspiracy theoryโ€”a conspiracy fact. And they just broke my arm for tapping on their window.”

Joe: (Is silent for a long moment, staring at the city. Then he speaks, softly at first.) “They didn’t break it because you tapped… they broke it because of the song you were humming while you did it.” He turns to Bono. “They fear your jubilee, brother. The great reset. The song that cancels all their dark debts.”

Bono looks up, shocked.

Joe: “It’s in your name. It always has been. Itโ€™s why the old power hated you. ’43’ himself, the cowboy they put in charge, he didn’t see a philanthropist. He saw an irritant. He called you ‘The Pest.’ And he hated the name Bono. Because he heard it wrong. He heard BONE NO. The ultimate refusal. That’s why their puppets, the Bavarian Illuminati, didn’t just threaten you. They had to make it literal. They broke your bones in that ‘accident’ to try and break the meaning. To turn ‘Bone No’ into ‘Broken Yes.'”

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