Farmer Adalgisio, after a few weeks of pondering the matter, realizes that from the tree he has in his yard, every night, one of his delicious oranges is stolen.
One a night.
The countryside is tough, low, often ruthless, and rarely inclined to selfless charity. So, the following evening, after finishing the variety show on the first channel, Adalgisio prepares a twelve-cup carafe of coffee, places his most uncomfortable chair in front of the entrance window, and with an impatient desire for revenge waits for the nighttime arrival of the greedy thief.
Sleep begins to cloud his vision when he finally sees a dark figure stealthily climbing among the branches of the orange tree.
Adalgisio grabs the sickle, with the grace of someone who’s about to miss the 7:45 train, steps out of his house, and rushes to the base of the tree, just in time to grab the balls of what, beyond any reasonable doubt, turns out to be the sneaky thief thirsty for juice.
"Come down, you piece of shit! How many nights have you been coming here to steal my apples? And tighten your grip on your balls."
Receiving no answer, Adalgisio escalates: "I swear I’ll pull you down by your balls now, let’s see who you are, Santa Carolina Incoronata!"
From up above, Adalgisio hears only silence and a bothersome acrid smell.
He takes the sickle, places it against the thief’s balls, and plays his last card.
"If you don’t come down, if you don’t tell me who you are, I’ll cut your balls off."

- "Mmmmmmnnnnooooooooooo," replies the other.

"Who the hell are you? Come down and tell me who the hell you are," presses Adalgisio, applying pressure with the sickle.

- "Mmmmmmarioooo!"

"Mario who, you piece of shit? Mario who!?"

- "Mmmmario il mmmmuto!"