Image modified from"The Disneyland Memorial Orgy poster"

In an Italian wood, under a crystal display cabinet, the sleeping beauties are lying in what seems to be an everlasting sleep, victims of the tons of bad apples devoured in the years gone by. Joyful little animals have been ever surrounding them. The little squirrels of the P2, so clever that they have never been captured, the Verdini birds of the P3, the CL wolves, the mafia foxes, the 'ndrangheta martens, the camorra weasels and in the sky, swirling around in great circles happy vultures searching for carrion and bribes. The sleeping beauties are dreaming. Their eyelids slowly blinking at the appearance of a new ethereal Right, uncorrupted and inspired by noble minds from the past, from Cavour to De Gasperi. This vision produces for the dreamers, for those like Bocchino, Granata, and Fini nocturnal pollution, political coitus producing rare pleasure. The sleep that they have been experiencing has lasted for nearly two decades. At odd times, but so very rarely, there had been a hint of reawakening, for the “ad personam” laws, for the scandals, the corruption, the criminal convictions of Previti and Dell'Utri. The trials involving Mills and Mondadori, shook them however to such an extent as to alter their position in Papi’s massive bed. They turned over from one side to the other, almost by 90 degrees, while waiting for the handsome prince who will never give them a kiss, but who has had a go on them with every position of the Kamasutra, their lethargy is about to come to an end. The smell of the wood going up in flames is like a magic potion. It is transforming them from being knowing and conscious SnowWhites into illuminated statesmen on the route of the next government. The dwarf at the edge of the showcase reveals himself for what he is. A lascivious individual who has got them through, co-opted them and promoted them to be State SnowWhites by deception. The dwarf, like mother, never told them anything. This is why they believed him. They gave in, they kept quiet and they accepted every position. Now the sky is blue. The dwarf has become like a former lover who has become awkward to forget about. An adolescent reddening is coming over the cheeks of the sleeping beauties now that they are accusing the one with whom they have shared the straw bed. There’s no lack of new pretenders. Their seductive charms still intact. What’s waiting for them is an orgy of democracy with the whole parliamentary arc. The SnowWhites can be forgiven everything. It’s an issue of pure love. The love of the gang bang and of armchairs.