In Bocca Al Lupo

26- Lunchtime is no longer for lunch

Having stopped in the afternoon for lunch after a stressful night, and subsequently having to ask somebody to recommend me something to eat since I had no clue what the things on the menu were, I stared down at the seafood dish that Abbacchio had ordered for me. Staring at it apprehensively, I couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by it, considering I didn't even know what the hell it was. Hearing Bucciarati scolding Giorno for ordering chocolate pudding instead of lunch, I considered switching seats and bribing Giorno to share it with me. About to eat it, I was stopped when Mista brought up weird topics at the table again.

With a casual look on his face as if we weren't being hunted down by the mafia, he asked, "So, about vegetarians... you know what they are, right? So I'm thinking... are they allowed to eat cheese?"

"Mm... I don't think so," Abbacchio explained, slowly waving his fork around, "Milk products and egg products have to come from cows and chickens. So they can't eat cakes made with cream either."

"What? Really?" Mista's voice was incredulous, "No cake either?! But maybe that's good for their health."

Deciding to put my own shaky knowledge to use, I chimed in, "Mmmm, I think you're talking about vegans? I've heard that some vegetarians eat milk and egg products, and even fish. I think it's vegans that don't eat any animal products. Even then, I'm pretty sure you can use almond milk to substitute cow milk. Don't take my word as law though, I might be wrong."

"Almond milk, huh?" Mista's nose wrinkled at the thought, a sour look crossing his face, "Never tried it. Sounds kinda gross."

"What? Almonds don't make milk," Narancia gave me an accusatory look, "Hey! Are you lying?"

Throwing my hands up defensively, I shuffled away from Narancia while mindful to not fall out of my seat, "I swear it's a thing! Seriously, you might have to look around but it's a real thing!"

Scrunching up his eyebrows in deep thought, Narancia seemed to be picturing what almond milk tasted like, before turning to me and asking, "Hey, (Name), what's almond milk even taste like?"

Shaking my head softly, I shrugged and replied, "Couldn't tell you. It's been too long."

Gasping at a sudden thought popping into his head, Mista pointed the fork at me, seeming to take me as some kind of expert, "Okay! New question! What do they use instead of shoes and handbags?"

"Well, if you don't want animals to suffer, then I guess you'd wear sneaks and use rucksacks instead," Abbacchio's answer drew an amused laugh from Mista.

"Whoa! They got style! Like you got grannies walking around dressing like ballers?" Mista smiled at the thought, picturing it in his head, "I don't think restaurants would let them in like that."

With a small huff, I pursed my lips into a tight frown, "Dunno about that one, buddy. You can get into anywhere wearing anything as long as you act like you're supposed to be there."

Narancia and Mista considered this, then shrugged and decided to accept it at face value. Snorting quietly, I finally decided to try eating my food. Just as I was about to take a bite, some dumbass with his bony elbows sticking out bumped into Narancia. Unfortunately, Narancia happened to be holding a glass of red wine in his hand, and so it splashed onto the dude's white suit.

Clicking his tongue angrily, the guy turned on Narancia immediately, grabbing him by the collar and damn near pulling him out of his chair, "Fucking kid! What do you think you're doing?! This cost me eight million lire! You got the money to pay me back, huh?! Get over here!"

Without missing a beat, Narancia slammed his wine glass into the man's chin, the glass shattering as the man spat and coughed up a mix of wine and blood. Falling back on his ass, the man was greeted by Narancia squatting down by his face, "You must be an enemy!"