Bad Tales (Favolacce)

Something odd happened a few weeks ago.

In the paper bin, along with some TV guides,

I found a little girl's diary.

It was in green ink, so I wrote it off as uninteresting.

I took it thinking I'd fill the blank pages

with something useful.

I began reading it,

got used to the dreamy handwriting,

and noted that it actually was interesting.

It wasn't the story that struck me

but the mysterious reticence it conveyed.

As if some things had been left out,

yet were oppressively present.

In the trivial man I easily identify with,

the trivial facts evoked a newfound intensity

far beyond the quality of the lines.

I was truly disappointed when a page ended.

I wanted all I felt to emerge.

Or just more lines of rambling innocence

for me to ponder on.

She just stopped writing, without warning

and without saying she was done.

Did she find a better diary, a better life?

I kept the diary and continued writing it.

Because I liked that life.

What follows was inspired by a true story.

The true story was inspired by a lie.

The lie is rather uninspired.

The following images are graphic.

A family tragedy occurred today in Spinaceto.

It appears that the parents of a small baby

killed her by drowning her in the bath.

They then leapt from the balcony of their room

and perished.

The young couple had boxes

of anxiolytics and spasmolytics.

Other guests

had heard the parents arguing

and threatening to commit suicide.

No one intervened...

We've launched a new soap for sensitive skin.

A mild, foaming product.

I was involved

in the idea and its creation.

Not to mention the new range of shampoo.

Special no-tear shampoos for kids' little eyes.

The job might sound stressful.

But you gotta break through that glass ceiling.

Or what's the fucking point of living?

"Want to sell sugar water for the rest of your life

or come with me and change the world?"

Steve Jobs. What a man!

I read his book. Mindblowing stuff!

All I can afford to read now are job ads.

- What kind of job are you after? - Any job.

Anything suitable, because...

I've been idle for months.

It's bad for the mind.

You're not idle. You're always on the move.

Where? At home.

I'm a stay-at-home dad.

You're the breadwinner.

Right, let's talk about something nice.

Kids, get your report cards.

They got great report cards.

Over there, over there.

You start.

Italian, A+. English, A+.

Second European Language, A+. History, A+.

Geography, A+. Math, A+.

Science, A+. Technology, A+.

Music, A+. Art, A+. Physical Education, A+.

Behavior, A+.

All A pluses.

Italian, A+. English, A+.

History, A+.

Geography, A+.

Math, A+. Science, A+.

Technology, A+. Music, A+. Art, A+.

Physical Education, A+.

Behavior... A.

Viola needs to put in a little more effort.

She's lacking here and there,

but we're working on it.

Her support teacher's a dickhead.

- Pietro! - Well, not a dickhead, he's dumb.

Good with disabled kids, but not normal ones.

You're right, he is a bit dumb.

What a mess.

I used to like yard sales.

But lately they've become lame.

Neighbors sell the same boring old stuff.

Nothing sells. You just get sunburn.

How much is this?

Like, a ton of money.

How much you got?

Nothing.

Not enough.

Yeah, but how much is it?

30 euros.

- Dad, can I have 30 euros? - Huh?

- Can I have 30 euros? - What for?

An educational thing.

Ask your mom.

Mom, can I have 30 euros?

Since we've sold a few things...

- Bring me the change. - Okay.

I'm not really sure it costs 30 euros.

Might be worth way more.

I'll go ask Mom.

Hey, Mom...

How much is that thing?

That metal... detector?

15 euros.

So...

since you got a lot left over,

you wanna...?

Go fuck yourself.

Hey, boy! You'll feel better soon.

It'd be easier if they didn't say "put down."

"Pacify".

No... "repacify."

No, wait... Geremia!

Have a minute with him.

Say goodbye to Woofie. Say goodbye.

C'mon, say bye to him!

Geremia, don't be like that.

This disease, it messes with his head.

He knows you said bye and love him. Trust me.

C'mon.

He came around. Remember how he was?

Always miserable. That rascal!

Look at him! He's crying!

Rabies beats depression, you bet!

Woofie, I'm taking you on a vacation!

I'll be back in two hours at the most.

I'll pick up some pizza. Want a bruschetta?

Play soccer, stay here. Don't worry.

Let's go, Woofie!

Mom!

We're out of that fucking sauce!

You're out of your mind.

It's the teachers' lounge, so it's mine too.

So it's the only fridge I have at work.

I don't have to share the food I put in it.

Otherwise you can't bring food from home

and have to keep feeding coins into the vending machine.

I mean, come on!

Guerrini! Hey, spaz, what's up?

They need me at the trattoria. I'm going now.

My first year in middle school ended today.

Our summer reading:

The Canterville Ghost.

I didn't tell anyone I'd already read it.

I have plenty to do this summer. Maybe I'll even fall in love like last year.

Hey, asshole...

Move your feet.

Can I have one?

Okay.

It's good.

C'mon, laugh.

When's it due?

In two months.

But...

are you really sure you want a baby?

Oh, fuck it.

How did the flute lesson go?

It seemed a bit...

thrown together.

The hall wasn't equipped.

We waited an hour for the teacher.

He showed up late.

Great.

So we'll switch then.

Right?

They offer lots of classes.

And it's good for the kids...

to learn lots of different things.

To learn to be flexible.

The first lesson's free anyway, right?

Dennis?

Spit it out.

Here, have a sip of water.

- Bruno, he's choking. - Here, drink this.

He's choking on the meat!

What the fuck am I meant to do?

Spit it out. Spit it out!

- He's choking! - What the fuck? Spit it out!

Spit it out!

Are you okay, sweetie?

Jesus!

No, stop.

Alessia...

Alessia, calm down.

Hey!

He's okay, c'mon.

What happened?

What happened?

C'mon now!

C'mon, everything's fine.