Episode 10: The Origins of Ravioli’s Nervous Hunger.
We are in Professor Faggioli’s office.
Ravioli’s therapy session continues.
Faggioli: Anyway, dear Ravioli, we can try to manage the effects of your stress eating, but to do so, it’s important to understand its origins and reasons, so we can resolve this little psychological issue of yours.
Ravioli: I didn’t think this was a psychological problem…
Faggioli: Unfortunately, it is, Ravioli. Unfortunately, it is. Anyway… Tell me. When was the first time you became aware of your stress eating?
Ravioli (scratching his chin): Let me think… Ah, yes! It was when I was eight. My parents put me on a diet. They made me eat dishes made of broccoli.
Ravioli makes a disgusted face.
Faggioli (interested): Broccoli? Did you say broccoli?
Ravioli: Yes, exactly, broccoli.
Faggioli: Broccoli? Those delicious, wholesome green vegetables?
Ravioli: Ah, I wish I could see it that way too, professor. But the truth is, I hate broccoli. I’ve never liked them, and I’ve never been able to stand them!
Faggioli (astonished): But, Ravioli… how can you say such a thing? Don’t you know broccoli are tasty and good for you?
Ravioli: Now, professor, you’ve just used the same words my mom would say when she forced me to swallow those horrible green bites! I almost threw up.
Faggioli: Now, now, Raviolino! You’re really trying to make me angry! Didn’t I just tell you broccoli are delicious and healthy?
Ravioli: Professor, you just called me Raviolino… Just like my mom does!
Faggioli: You see, Ravioli, this isn’t a matter of taste or opinion. Broccoli… you have to eat them!
Ravioli (confused): I’m not so sure, professor…
Faggioli: What you’re telling me is very serious! Don’t you realize your mother was right?
Ravioli (alarmed): What? What’s this about?
Faggioli: Don’t you know? Ah, never mind. You said your mom used to force you to eat broccoli. Tell me how it went.
Ravioli: Well, there’s not much to say. At lunchtime, I ate at afterschool care, but dinner… Dinner was the worst. Dinnertime would come, and on the table, there were always… broccoli! And if I didn’t finish the whole plate, I’d get punished.
Faggioli: On your knees on dry beans or ruler slaps on your hands?
Ravioli: No, Faggioli, what are you saying? My mom never used those kinds of punishments! My punishment was having to listen to endless lectures about how good vegetables are for you.
Faggioli: Ah, I see. Now it’s all clear. I’m starting to understand why you’ve ended up in such bad shape! It was actually your mom who was too soft.
Ravioli: Am I really in such bad shape, professor?
Time passes, and Faggioli continues his lecture… I mean, his session with Ravioli.
Faggioli: And yet, you like pizza…
Ravioli: Exactly! How did you guess?
Faggioli: I know your type all too well!
Ravioli: Now that I think about it, I’m hungry.
Faggioli: And you’d like a nice pizza, thick, dripping with cheese and oil, topped with plenty of spicy salami slices… right?
Ravioli: Ah, my favorite… but at this time, the pizzeria is closed.
Faggioli: It’s only nine in the morning…
Ravioli: Ah, but there’s that bakery downtown…
Faggioli: Or maybe a big hamburger… double, or triple… loaded with sauces… an absurd amount of fried bacon and cheddar…
Ravioli: Professor, don’t tempt me like that. It’s only nine in the morning. The fast-food places are only serving breakfast at this hour…
Faggioli: Of course, Ravioli, you like these things. And do you know why?
Ravioli (interested): I don’t know, Professor. Why?
Faggioli: You like them because they’re… JUNK!
Ravioli jumps, startled by Faggioli’s shout.
Faggioli: Can’t you see it? You’re missing out on good, wholesome broccoli dishes, which are great for your body and mind, and instead, you’re putting garbage into your body! Things that harm you, make you gain weight, and bloat your stomach like a balloon!
Ravioli: Yeah, but pizzas and hamburgers are… so good!
Faggioli: Good? And you call that stuff good?
Ravioli: I don’t know, Professor. Maybe you’re right…
Faggioli: Maybe? Do you even realize what that junk has done to you? Have you looked in the mirror? Haven’t you seen how fat and ugly you’ve become? And let’s not even talk about your arteries—surely clogged with cholesterol!
Ravioli starts crying.
Faggioli: But broccoli, now those are good! That’s what I call a healthy food! Ah, broccoli! They bring back so many childhood memories. Did you know, Ravioli, that I was a little rebel like you, refusing to eat broccoli? But then my father… Ah, my father…
Faggioli gets lost for a moment in childhood memories.
Faggioli: … My father used to smack my hands with a ruler. Oh yes! That worked. I remember evenings spent kneeling on dry beans, nights locked in the storage closet. Hungry, in the dark, and without dinner. And let me tell you… crying and screaming didn’t help one bit!
Faggioli pauses, gets up, and looks at the wall, pretending it’s a window. Then he resumes his monologue.
Faggioli: And look at me now! Look at my body—slim, athletic, and full of health. Look at my mind—sharp, sound, and disciplined. And who deserves the credit?
Faggioli pulls out the old sock he uses as a puppet—his friend Tony.
Tony: I don’t know, Faggioli. Who deserves the credit?
Faggioli: BROCCOLI!
Tony: And the beatings! Ah, ah, ah!
Faggioli: Yes, exactly, broccoli and the beatings!
Ravioli has pulled himself together.
Ravioli: You’re right, Faggioli. I’m a mess!
Faggioli: Good, good, good. I see we’re making progress. Right, Tony?
Tony: Ah, ah, ah! The fatty is making progress… Ah, ah, ah! Careful he doesn’t overdo it… Ah, ah, ah! Because he’s fat! Ah, ah, ah!
Faggioli (encouragingly): But let’s get back to you, dear Ravioli… Go on, you were telling me about the first time you felt this nervous hunger…
In the other room, in the waiting area, Papaia and Banani are trying to pass the time chatting.
Banani: Today the weather seems clear.
Papaia: The forecast says it’s going to rain.
Banani (looking out of the small window in the room): Really? It doesn’t look like it to me. I can’t see a single cloud.
Papaia: Sometimes they’re wrong, but you never know. I always carry a raincoat in my pocket. I hate getting caught in the rain!
Banani: A raincoat? Great idea! I never thought of that. I’ll add it to my pocket tool kit right away.
Papaia: Hey, speaking of rain… I saw you’ve made progress in reading your book.
Banani: It’s not mine; it’s my grandfather’s.
Papaia: Oh, really? Is your grandfather still alive? That’s impressive! How old is he?
Banani: He’ll turn 103 next month!
Papaia: Wow! Give him my best wishes!
Banani: You can give them in person if you like. We’re organizing a surprise party, and you’re invited.
Papaia: Thanks, I’d love to come. But… a surprise party… are you sure it’s a good idea? You know, considering his age…
Banani: Oh, right! I hadn’t thought of that!
Igor: More than you surprising your grandfather, it might end up being your grandfather surprising you!
Banani: Oh, don’t say that, Igor! Don’t even think it! He definitely has another hundred years ahead of him.
Banani goes back to reading. But Papaia is getting bored.
Papaia (scrolling through his phone): You know, Banani, I never realized how many important messages I missed because of ads…
But Banani, deeply engrossed in his reading, doesn’t reply.
Igor: Did you forget Banani is deaf in one ear? He probably didn’t hear you.
Papaia moves to the other side of the small room and, raising his voice, asks: What are you reading?
Banani jumps in fright, then finally answers. Oh! I heard you just fine! There’s no need to shout!
Papaia: Sorry, but you weren’t answering me.
Banani: Okay… The book is about the evidence for the flood, like marine fossils commonly found on high mountains all over the world.
Papaia: Oh, I get it! You’re saying water covered the whole world, including the mountains. That’s how marine creatures ended up there!
Banani: Well, it’s not as simple as it might sound. Apparently, beneath the ocean floor’s crust, there was a layer of water, kept separated underneath.
Papaia: Basically, a second ocean.
Banani: Yes, you could see it that way. Remember in Genesis where it says the fountains of the great deep burst open?
Papaia: Yeah, we talked about that in the beginning.
Banani: Right. At that point, because of the eruptions, this layer was breached, and the water beneath it added to the oceans’ waters.
Papaia: Raising the sea level!
Banani: Yes, but there’s also a second mechanism.
Papaia: I’m listening.
Banani: Along with water, an immense amount of lava erupted from beneath this second layer, forcing its way out.
Papaia: Yeah, so?
Banani: Hot lava is less dense than the rocks that make up the ocean floor!
Papaia: Definitely!
Banani: So, it tends to expand and rise, elevating the ocean floor.
Papaia: Ah, so the amount of water increases, and at the same time, the seafloor rises.
Banani: Exactly. These two mechanisms caused the sea level to rise by over 1,000 meters.
Papaia: Wait, I didn’t quite understand where all that lava ends up.
Banani: Let me give you a practical example. Has your wife ever baked a cake in the oven?
Papaia: Yes, I get it. The cake puffs up and rises!
Banani: A good analogy might be a layered cake with a filling.
Imagine a cake with two layers of dough—one on top and one on the bottom—with cream or jam in between. During baking, the heat causes the filling to boil, expand, and push the top layer upward, making it puff up.
Meanwhile, the bottom layer remains more stable but begins to solidify as it heats. The result is a cake that looks puffed up because the expanding filling forces the top layer to rise.
This dynamic is similar to the model: the double layer represents the two seafloor layers, the filling is the water or lava, and the upward force mirrors the pressure generated by the eruptions.
Papaia: Okay, so the future fossils end up on land, but you said the tall mountains hadn’t formed yet.
Banani: Correct. In the pre-Flood world, there were no mountains as high as the ones we see today. It’s estimated that the sea level rose by over 1,000 meters, enough to submerge everything.
Papaia: Yeah, but at some point, the sea level started to lower, right?
Banani: Yes, in Genesis, we read that the fountains of the great deep closed, and the waters receded, uncovering dry land.
Papaia: And what was the mechanism that triggered this lowering of the sea level?
Banani: Simple! Once the fountains closed and the eruptions ceased, the lava began to cool, causing the seafloor to sink, which lowered the sea level to what it is today. This detail is found in Psalm 104, verses 5 to 9.
Papaia: Yes, but that still doesn’t explain how marine fossils ended up on the mountains.
Banani: Right, because until that moment, tall mountains didn’t exist. First, we mentioned that the waters eventually receded. Some marine creatures were left stranded on the newly exposed land.
Papaia: Yes, but you said tall mountains didn’t exist. How did they form?
Banani: We said that the single supercontinent, Pangaea, broke apart during the year of the Flood.
Papaia: Yes, I remember.
Banani: The continents moved from their initial, united position to where they are today—all within a year!
Papaia: They must have been moving at terrifying speeds! We’re talking meters per second.
Banani: Exactly. And some plates collided. The immense energy caused the rocks to rise, forming the tall mountains, like the Andes and the Himalayas.
Papaia: And that’s how the remains of marine creatures ended up on top of them!
Banani: Precisely!
Igor: From what I gather, we can explain the presence of fossils on mountains with the Flood—an enormous disaster. Now, what I still don’t understand is how to explain the enormous disaster we’re currently in. Oh, wait! That’s right! The explanation is… Papaia!