Three scientists — Papaia, Banani, and Ravioli — and their assistant Igor, who work at NASAL, begin taking an interest in creationism. Their superiors, worried, send them to a psychologist, Professor Faggioli — a questionable figure determined to get them fired by making them look insane.
We’re in Professor Faggioli’s office, where Ravioli is undergoing evaluation.
Ravioli is telling the story of the year-end dinner with the “Anonymous Fish-Hiders” group — which unexpectedly turned out to be… fish-based!
[The Moderator eyes Giorgio, the stationmaster.]
Moderator (frowning):
“Giorgio… what’s that oil dripping from your forehead?”
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[Giorgio slowly removes his cap.]
[Underneath, stuck to his head, is a half-squashed piece of sea bass.]
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Giorgio (smiling, as if it’s perfectly normal):
“Elevated storage. Rail strategy.”
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[The group bursts into laughter.]
[They keep laughing. The Moderator turns to the opera singer.]
Moderator (pointing to a strange bulge under her jacket):
“And you, Rossella? What’ve you got under there?”
[Rossella, the opera singer, adjusts her dress proudly and pulls a baked sea bass fillet from under her jacket.]
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Rossella (making a theatrical bow):
“Stage companion. Got me through the hardest scenes.”
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[More laughter.]
[The Moderator turns to the accountant, who’s clutching his planner.]
Moderator (suspicious):
“And you, Dr. Cavallini? Nothing to declare?”
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[Cavallini opens the planner with a ceremonial gesture. A few chunks of sea bass fall out from between the pages.]
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Cavallini (completely serious):
“Supplemental clauses. Not subject to tax.”
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[Everyone laughs even harder.]
[Then the Moderator looks at the man with the boots, walking a bit oddly.]
Moderator (smiling):
“Foot problems, Giacomo?”
[Giacomo bends down, takes off a boot, and pulls out half a sea bass.]
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Giacomo (calmly):
“Double portion. Maximum comfort.”
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[Finally, the Moderator turns to Ravioli.]
Moderator (chuckling):
“And you, Ravioli? Where’d you hide yours?”
[Ravioli smiles, opens his lab coat, and pulls a neatly packed piece of sea bass from the inside pocket — sealed in a plastic bag.]
Ravioli (shrugging):
“Classic method. Left pocket. Leak-proof guaranteed.”
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[The whole group bursts out laughing again, clapping each other on the back — finally united in their strange, liberating brotherhood.]
[The flashback fades, and we return to the office.]
Faggioli (glaring at him):
Very educational. So you believe… organized fish-related crime is a form of therapy?
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[He notices the slip, clears his throat.]
Faggioli (quickly correcting himself):
…I meant therapeutic solidarity, of course.
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Ravioli (shrugging):
Well… it works better than hiding sea bream in your trousers.
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[Brief silence.]
Igor:
“Instead of a carefree dinner, the fish-hiders found themselves… facing their final exam.”
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