Three scientists — Papaia, Banani, and Ravioli — and their assistant Igor, who work at NASAL, start getting interested in creationism. Their superiors, worried, send them to the psychologist, Professor Faggioli, a shady character determined to get them fired by making them look insane.
We are in Professor Faggioli’s office, where Ravioli is undergoing evaluation.
Ravioli is telling the story of how, on Christmas Eve, he made all the relatives throw up when his mom emptied out his old backpack — full of rotten fish hidden there since middle school — right in front of everyone, and how he eventually confessed to his mom that he had lied and hidden the fish at after-school care to avoid eating it and being punished.
(Mom clutches her chest, shocked.)
Mom (bitterly):
“And instead, you hid everything… and let me believe a lie for your entire life!”
(Sound of chairs scraping. One by one, the relatives stand up, grab their coats, smooth down their clothes, and shoot heavy, judgmental looks at Ravioli without saying a word.)
(Aunt Gelsomina walks to the door shaking her head, while Uncle Carlo lets out a loud sigh and looks at Ravioli as if he were a living disappointment.)
Aunt Gelsomina (whispering to an uncle):
“This is worse than the time the cat fell into the cake…”
🤣🤣🤣
(Uncle Carlo nods solemnly, giving Ravioli one last look of disapproval.)
Mom (shouting after everyone):
“MERRY CHRISTMAS, HUH? MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!”
(Door slams shut. Final shot of Ravioli sitting alone at the table, with the rotten backpack at his feet. The stench still hangs heavily in the air.)
Ravioli (muttering):
“At least… they didn’t make me eat the fish…”
🤣🤣🤣
End of flashback. We return to Faggioli’s office.
Ravioli:
“She was very disappointed, and I think she still hasn’t forgiven me to this day.”
Igor then commented:
“Well… I’d say that was a pretty measured reaction. Just a couple of ancestral hate-filled stares, four final goodbyes, and a last will and testament rewritten on the front door. Nothing that can’t be fixed with a fresh fish and twenty years of therapy.”
🤣🤣🤣
…Honestly, in my opinion, Ravioli’s relatives were perfectly right to hate him. Not so much for the lies, nor for the nuclear-level stench… but for the real crime: desecrating the poor designer coffee table.
A tragedy that cries out for vengeance louder than all the spoiled mussels of the Mediterranean.
🤣🤣🤣
…But, we can understand poor Ravioli.
He was scared they’d make him eat even more fish…
Sure, Ravioli.
Maybe they would have even tied you to the chair with a funnel in your mouth, like some wartime interrogation, pouring fish stew straight into your stomach!
🤣🤣🤣
…Maybe, to make up for it, your mom could have invited everyone to a nice reconciliation dinner… at the MiraMare restaurant.
Specialty: fish, of course.
🤣🤣🤣
…Well, if Ravioli’s goal was to never have to eat fish again…
I’d say: mission accomplished.
A true overkill!
After that night, nobody in the family would even dare to look at a fishbone without fainting until next Christmas!
🤣🤣🤣