I Seemed To Have Misplaced My Mental Stability

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"Let's just steal one already." Narancia grumbled, staring at the parking lot. There were so many just ripe for the taking, what the hell were they waiting for? A sign from the heavens? There was one already, it was him. And he says to take the damn cars.

"Are you stupid? Word would spread in no time and go right to the enemy. Then they'll just be waiting to ambush us!" Fugo rubbed his temples, gazing at the small establishment the parking lot resided by. The car owners must be inside the small inn, so they had to be quick about all of this.

"That's true. Fugo's got a good point." The only reason they could hitch a ride last time was when the driver had no clue that they were even in the car. It wouldn't work if the owner of the car didn't know.

"Then let's just hear what Bucciarati has to say." Narancia leaned against the concrete wall, bolting upright at the sound of a smashing car, the four of them lift their heads to watch as Giorno repeatedly bashed the cars. "What the hell are you doing?"

"If we steal one, we would be caught immediately. But if we steal one hundred..." His stand went on a rampage, driving his fists into every vehicle in the lot, the mangled mess of metal and rubber falling down with a loud clunk before metamorphosing into frogs. "If it isn't just a single car that disappeared, and they are all found in pieces at different locations, the search for the missing cars will be much harder and it should give us plenty of time to get to Venice."

"Well, that definitely beats hitchhiking." Mista grinned, once again impressed by Giorno's ideas.

"Giorno, you tell Bucciarati." Abbacchio gave the newbie the tortoise without a single complaint or smartass comment, which was odd for someone like him, and they all realized it.

Inside said tortoise, (Y/N) slept peacefully on the couch, curled in on herself like a baby, her jacket returned and draped over her shoulders. The only way to release Giorno from his fate as her bed was unzipping his legs to slip out, which was probably the single-most useless thing Bruno's stand had ever been used for, but whatever. Trish stood on the chair, reaching upwards to the turtle's ceiling. "Please get down from the chair. It's very dangerous outside right now."

"Listen, Mr. Bucciarati." Her emerald eyes narrowed a tad, crossing her arms in slight annoyance. This constant surveillance was getting on her nerves. "If I were to ask you a dumb question, would you be able to answer it?"

"It depends on the question." Likewise, his own blue eyes could only give a blank stare.

"What am I supposed to do if I need to use the bathroom?" Her voice raised, the question was pretty simple, but the solution was not so."You aren't suggesting I use a diaper, are you?"

"I see... That's a very good question." He leaned forward in thought.

"Good. I'm glad you understand." Her hands settled on her hips. "Maybe (Y/N) could just take me to the bathroom-"

"Let's make the closet a toilet." Bruno gestured to the hole he just unzipped in the floor. "Please, go ahead."

"Go ahead?" She hated this place more by the second.

"You said you had to go to the bathroom. I don't know where it leads underneath that, but I'm sure the turtle will be fine. It might actually get nutrients from it."

"I have no clue what you're trying to say..." She didn't want to have to squat in some hole in that ground, that was just so... improper!

"Heat signature... approaching.." (Y/N) muttered to herself, opening her eyes to look up.

"Bucciarati." Giorno, the heat signature, had appeared above the turtle's window. "We've procured a car."

"Allright. Once we confirm that we are safe, let's head out."

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