first scene. In
family: old diabetic grandmother hopes a future base for the future of the boy Berlin Zoo. The size of a pound slice of Pandora (on silver tray) and passes it to him while his mother tries to make him wear her asshole giubottino and blue scarf reggaefregammècheciòlaziendadifamiglia future. Nothing is casual served and revered the only male of the house (the omm omm is, after all).
Bello in this particular sense, the mother's face without the benefit, of course, the mother-in-law, a category known obsessed with food: You have to eat, eat, chew and swallow a grandmother. Eat, opens his mouth, eat more, eat shit. My son at his age was already a calf, not the nephew that you made me, hooker.
second scene.
headlong rush into the snow instead of falling rises from the floor: wonderful.
A world upside down. A ball of snow to shake hoping to see its people drown in agony. Let's hope but not enough. He stops. The mother trudges behind, poor thing. He sees a little girl her mother co. Apparently he understood everything about life bestowed his half-portion to the female, waiting for future compensation. The child looks to accomplice to the mother: is it really true just a smile. The mother load of furs and Christmas spending garrulous provides a bright future as the coat of her daughter. Son of just fool males. Maybe.
Third stage.
A mime, a human being slammed in the spine and cast in gold to the eternal memory of the efforts to be avoided in moving, stretching his hand begging pose. Not resist the small magnet in the position of law and mime that product category and so precarious that it will always be happy in his magnanimous gesture. Let them eat brioche, Mom approves. And the mime collects his fourth slice pandorale scrutinizing the reasons for it in his heart to suffer. And this month we ate.
Fourth stage.
Isolated from the people in the shade and listen to that story, a financial planner and discuss an unlikely Mexican hard. The snow continues to go a bit 'where the hell they please, anywhere but on the ground, but there is. The two gesticulating. He resize, she replied that he does not understand anything. The luogocomunismo produces another great fresco of the woman, hysterical, passive aggressive pursuer and employee. The jolly little man squared resize, move back, beating around the bush and knows that in a while 'his life will be better. Comes small. It dispenses one-eighth slice of the two guards with ferocity. Magnate and Statev silent, goats. It is the return the white whale, the party of the loaf, let it go until the boat goes.
But yes, but me cares, just breathing, though, sometimes breathes well too. But yes that I care, it is so queer.
Fifth scene.
The triumph of our hero sees a bird swollen, probably ill, perhaps in the next chapter as it should be: failed to buy na home, his cock, he goes to lavuri ', barbùn. She hands him the last eighth of a slice pandoro rightly crumbled. You do not linger over this point is to be well balanced, well aware by now that the small, free from the mother sly, which approximates to go into politics. Sooner or later the streets are free from you ragged. But then someone is always at the end, a bit 'like the sheet of paper to the fireplace. So does the Christmas fireplace ..
Epilogue.
The child comes home obviously pissed. Sti-starved, so 'left without pandoro, vafanculo. He forgets that perhaps the old woman had cut a slice from an entire form? no, not that naive. He knows that will shake the bitch and injected into the blood of our dear father, cursed father. Double Oedipus complex. Broom. He sits on the couch. Her father takes care of the gifts, of course. Fa 'what do you compete but do not look, you do not plug back, look how you have reduced. On his knees among the boxes. Then the spell: a black leather bag is laid, the mother is presumed, on the couch. Beautiful bag. Wonderful analogy with the creation of Michelangelo. The exchange between the hand of god and man. Shivers down my spine. The capitalist bigwigs rises and makes a bully, Teutonic, greedy and proud. Among the cartoons that asshole father saw his prey: a new reserve of merit. Pandoro still clings bloated boxed and the supposed death of the old. What a sweet feeling Power. Come, come yet to make a generous lap around here. It is still not late, not yet past Christmas. And we hope never ends.
A.
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