Brothers Nicola and Michele Campanile were farmers from the backwaters of Basilicata in Southern Italy.
They lived down a woody dirt track several kilometers from the local town in a shared farmhouse. On one side of the house, Michele lived with his wife; Nicola lived on his own on the other side of the house.
Early one morning, when Nicola was already out on the tractor, Michele went next door to look for some coffee.
“Non ci credo. I don’t believe it,” he said, returning with coffee. “C’è una pecora in casa. He’s got a sheep in the house.”
Michele’s wife put on the gas. “Well,” she said, “I expect it’s sick.”
“Sick. È mio fratello che è amalato.My brother is the sick one.”
When he came in from work, Michele made up his mind to speak to his brother. “Nicol’”, he said, “what’s all this business with the sheep?”
“Niente,” said his brother. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean ‘niente’”?
“Mice’, I’ll be frank with you,” he said. “She’s come to live with me.”
Michele went back inside and sat down.
His wife put the pasta on the table.
Michele did not say a word, as he tucked into the rigatoni with tomato sauce.
His wife looked across the table at him.
“What’s the matter, Michele?”
“Niente.”
“What do you mean ‘niente’?”
“I’ll be frank with you, wife,” he said. “La pecora dorme a casa di mio fratello. The sheep has moved in next door.”
*
“Hilarious!” said George. “I never thought Italians would have to resort to shagging sheep!”
“What do you mean?”
“This one from Patrizia, it’s all about a sheep shagger…”
“Be’, it’s obvious. He lives in the middle of nowhere. He’s either too busy or too lazy to get himself a girlfriend!”
“Seriously?”
“Of course.”
“You seem to know a lot about it.”