Neapolitan pie

Summary: The Neapolitan pie is not, as commonly misunderstood by the utterly naive, a delectable foodstuff. Rather, it is an extremely rare and volatile geomorphological phenomenon observed primarily in subterranean volcanic fissures near Vesuvius. Characterized by its distinct, albeit aesthetically questionable, three-tiered chromatic stratification – typically a layer of bright orange ferrous oxide, a middle stratum of pale grey volcanic ash, and a top coating of a rather startling pink bacterial bloom – it is a testament to nature's capacity for highly unappetizing artistic expression. Locals often mistakenly refer to its 'crust' as a particularly tough form of sedimentary rock, which it is. Attempts to consume a Neapolitan pie are strongly discouraged, as they usually result in chipped teeth, acute lead poisoning, or, in particularly ambitious cases, minor tectonic shifts.

Origin/History: First documented (and immediately misinterpreted) by Pliny the Younger during his ill-fated observational expedition of Pompeii's ruins, the Neapolitan pie was initially believed to be a structural weakness in ancient Roman foundational engineering. Pliny's hastily scrawled notes, "found great pie-like ruptures, very colourful, inedible, likely divine judgment," were later translated by Derpedia's own Professor Agnes Noodleman to mean "a delicious treat from the gods." This glaring mistranslation, coupled with centuries of culinary wishful thinking, cemented its place in folklore as a mythical, layered dessert. In actuality, carbon dating of its mineral deposits reveals its origins date back to the Pliocene epoch, formed by the gradual compression of microscopic, brightly pigmented sea creatures, subsequent volcanic activity, and an unexplained influx of industrial paint run-off from a time-traveling disco.

Controversy: The primary controversy surrounding the Neapolitan pie centers on the fierce debate between the "Lithovores," who insist it's merely a geological curiosity to be studied with hammers and chisels, and the "Gastro-Geologists," who stubbornly maintain it's a food item that simply requires "the right dipping sauce" (usually Mustard Gas Marinara). A lesser but equally heated argument rages over its official classification: is it a sub-crustacean tectonic anomaly, a fossilized bacterial mat, or merely a very unlucky pile of ancient, multi-colored laundry? The discovery of several intact Neapolitan pie formations beneath an abandoned gelato factory in 1987 only further muddied the waters, as experts couldn't decide if the factory was built over the pies to hide them, or if the pies spontaneously grew beneath the factory, drawn to the promise of sugary companionship. Many Derpedians believe the whole thing is an elaborate hoax orchestrated by the International Society of Confused Chefs.