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Three times in his life, Buccellati considered vanishing Mista's tiger print trousers. Then, he became convinced that there’s a type of fashion for every type of taste.
- [Operation Arrivederci Tiger Pants: ATTEMPT 01]
“Hey, Buccellati guy! What’s up!” Guido Mista had met with Buccellati days after agreeing to join the team. The new recruit should be the last remaining member to complete it. In addition to the newly discovered stand and weapons skill, what caught Buccellati's attention was his ability to survive on his own and even easily articulate with other people on the streets and local commerce. As they walked together through the center of the city, the older man watched as Mista behaved. It was clear that behind the boy's relaxed pose was the calm, the seriousness and the professionalism of a born shooter.
“You didn’t even ask me where we were going. Aren’t you curious?”
“Not to that restaurant. I already met the team, and if we had a mission, I doubt you would have asked me to meet, just the two of us, in the town square. It isn’t a date, either” and Mista grinned, feeling funny, perhaps. Buccellati always picks the weirdest ones. “Nothing against guys, but you don’t look like the type that hits on co-workers. I can only assume that it’s something related to my adaptation to your teamwork style.”
“Very clever” and the older man was being honest. He was very pleased to have brought Mista to work with him, the boy had many qualities to do missions even independently. “Let's buy clothes for you. It's part of being a gangster at Passione's service to be presentable, just like any pro. There’s a street in Naples famous for its thrift shops. I have my favorites, where I often buy. Do you know the place?”
“Thrift shop?” The new recruit spent a few seconds observing Buccellati's white dotted suit. What could he have been thinking about the suit? The team leader had himself as someone dressed with charm and elegance, thank you. Mista was still wearing the same button-down shirt, loose-fitting pants, and cap of the day he was released from prison.
“Yes, thrift shop” Buccellati began to enumerate in the fingers the motives to buy in a thrift store. “Exclusive clothing, conscious buying, sustainable consumption, encouraging the local economy of the territory that Passione dominates, vintage pieces, and, of course, good price. After all, we're still low-level gangsters, and our money isn’t that much”, and then he smiled to his new partner “But I promise you, with hard work, we will rise within the gang.”
Mista just smiled from ear to ear back, hands in pockets, walking leisurely alongside the new yet-not-capo. They rounded the corner and entered the alley known for the various clothing stores and thrift shops. The shops were varied, from the most exquisite to the messiest, from the antique shops to the stands set in the middle of the sidewalk, from the exclusive boutiques to the humble little family shops. Buccellati showed and spoke from each of the stores, remembering which he had already gone with the other guys on the team.
By the end of the morning, they had already entered many shops and tried what looked like hundreds of pieces of clothing. The budget was not generous, so they had to select wisely from the various fashionable pieces. It didn’t help the fact that Mista fell in love with a cashmere crop top that wasn’t cheap. To make matters worse, the new recruit discovered a shameful relic in the midst of a hamper of leather pants and insisted on spending the remaining money on that fashion disaster.
“Mista...” Buccellati didn't know how to say that gaudy orange leather trousers with stupid tiger stripes were the most horrible thing he had ever seen in that shop. Or in life. He didn't have much intimacy with the boy to fire his sincerity. Maybe the boy was very sensitive and felt hurt. “Are you sure you want to buy it? These pants draw a lot of attention.”
“I know! It’s perfect! I love it!”
Buccellati didn’t want to be rude and turn to the new member of his team saying 'Mista, those pants are the most grotesque thing I ever had the displeasure to put my eyes on. I want to get your revolver loaned, give at least 32 shots in this fashion crime, then I want to chop it up in pieces, set fire to the scraps and throw the ashes through the toilet, giving definite discharge to this thing you call pants'. He looked at his wallet and let out a brief sigh. All right, the boy would probably forget that pants on the bottom of the closet. A waste of money, but what he could do...
[Operation Arrivederci Tiger Pants: ATTEMPT 01 - FAILURE]
- [Operation Arrivederci Tiger Pants: ATTEMPT 02]
It had been almost two months since Mista had joined the team, and after some disgusting pranks and immature break-ins, the team members were getting on well with him. Stopping to think, the new recruit had the most tranquil entry of all of them, the merit of his friendly personality and his social ability not to propose himself to unnecessary disagreements. Even so...
"Bruno, you have to do something. You’re the leader, you have authority." It wasn’t the first time Abbacchio had complained, but he was always complaining about everything, so he had to continually complain to make Buccellati understand that this was indeed a complaint, not just a mockery.
“What now, Leone...”
“Luca and the others at the airport watched us from a distance as if we were... a freak circus. I no longer have the slightest respect from that idiots for having served the police, then with the smiling little puppy dressed up in tiger costume, how do you think it was the receipt of payment?”
“It’s just pants, Abbacchio” the other man sealed his lips for a moment and looked at Buccellati when he noticed his surname being called. “It isn’t the most charming piece in the boy's closet, but neither is the end of the world. Honestly, I've met soldiers from other squadrons with much more dubious tastes.” Buccellati wanted that tiger pants to get lost on the way from the laundry room, but Mista had been a relief to that squad of misfits, so he didn’t want to cause tribulation with the kid who was more stable.
“I already tolerate his paranoia with number four... I'm not going on any mission with the smiling puppy if he comes dressed as a daddy tiger.”
Buccellati sighed deeply, cranky. He had known Abbacchio since before the older man joined the mafia, and he knew from experience how he could be terribly stubborn. “The saying goes that whoever complains should come up with a solution” and with that, the brunette hoped to finish the subject. He was wrong.
“Open a zipper in the laundry room and discreetly throw those pants down there, closes the wall, and nobody knows anything.” It was a good idea.
“This is the worst idea ever, Leone!” Actually, Buccellati was considering the factors of the little plan. “We are all adults, and if this is a problem, we will settle with dialogue, as adults, not as children who hide toys from one another. This is unfair to Mista.”
“Me?” The gunman had entered the room unannounced. Not that he had to announce himself to enter, but Buccellati drew attention to the fact as a way of subtly shifting from the current subject. Abbacchio, on the other hand, found the situation very timely.
“Exactly, you. Our leader wants to have an adult dialogue about your habits.” And the cute bastard just got up and left the room. Buccellati sighed so deeply that his fringe left the place by his own exhalation.
“What is it, chief?” The boy's gaze was relaxed, but his black eyes seemed to study Buccellati's movements carefully. Ok...
“I'm afraid, Mista, that your adaptation to our team still needs some tweaking.”
“Yeah, be like that sometimes. What’s wrong?”
“Have you noticed how we all dress here?”
“And how not to notice? You guys are full of style and attitude. The boy in the skirt? I love him. The pale face worked in gothic makeup? It's amazing how he's so manly with lipstick! And the repressed nerd who struggled with scissors in his suits? I wanted to have the audacity of this kid. And you...” Buccellati sank into the chair, a half-broken smile. “I have nothing to say. All the guys should wear a window cleavage once.”
“Do you really think like that?”
“Totally”, Mista opened a wide smile. Then, he made a worried expression. “Do I have to wear something like that? I’m not really into ties and suits...”
“No. No, no, no need for it. What I wanted to say is... You should buy more clothes. I gave you more cash this week. Remember: we are gangsters and we must look presentable.”
“Got it”, Mista rose up and headed to the door, turning in his heels to gun-fingering at Buccellati. “You’re the best!” No, he’s not.
[Operation Arrivederci Tiger Pants: ATTEMPT 02 - FAILURE]
- [Operation Arrivederci Tiger Pants: ATTEMPT 03]
"You were kind of rude to him, you know... Just came and told the guy to take off his coat and then wipe your hands in his clothes, do you know how many suits he had? Five! One of each color!” Narancia and Trish seemed to be getting along very well.
Buccellati was sitting in one of the armchairs in the room inside the turtle, watching the two teenagers talk quietly, not paying much attention. Many things happened in a few hours, and the capo (now ex-capo, traitor of the gang) needed distracted silence to think about the next steps, the quest for the boss's identity.
“That suit was horrible” Buccellati heard Trish’s voice answering Narancia. “I should have thrown it in the trash and used the budget money to buy something decent for him. By the way, for all of you. You dress like you bought clothes in a thrift shop. Especially Mista. That tiger pants shouldn’t exist in any context.”
A pang of displeasure struck the brunette's bewildered mind. Yes, they bought in thrift stores, but personally they rock those outfits. Buccellati was even known for giving fashion advice! The ex capo internally cursed those tiger trousers. Now, that Abbacchio’s plan to zip the unholy pants in a wall, somewhere, sounds perfectly. It will be his first move after lunch.
“We don’t dress for little girls, that's your problem.” Good answer, Narancia. Buccellati pretended to concentrate on something else, to extricate himself from the natural duty of drawing the teammate's attention to rudeness. And Trish did not seem to be very offended. They seem to have narrowed the bonds even more.
“I see. You dress for little boys.” Buccellati struggled to soften the spy stare he'd directed at the two teenagers on the other couch. Narancia also displayed a curious stare at Trish. “Observe that walking fashion disaster.” Narancia followed with his eyes to the direction that Trish subtly pointed with her chin. Buccellati didn’t have to look around to know that it was Mista. “It's such a horrible thing put together that I doubt that outfit wasn’t diabolically planned to offend everyone's view.” Narancia laughed a little at the sour comment. “God forbid if I have to wear such clothes.”
“You don’t understand Trish. We’re men, we dress to be badass, not to be the prom queens.”
“Oh, yeah? Let me show you a trick.” Now Buccellati was looking directly at the teenagers on the couch. Narancia stared, confused, at Trish, the girl with a smirk on her face. "Hey, Mista!" She said loudly. Out of the corner of his eye, Buccellati noticed that the gunman had turned to answer the girl's call. "Would you please switch the TV channel?"
Buccellati watched Mista in front of the TV, slightly inclined, pressing the button. Trish continued to request him to switch channels, a stupid attitude that served to no purpose other than annoying the boy. Buccellati turned to Trish, ready to ask her to stop, as he watched the girl nudging Narancia, pointing her chin in the other direction. Buccellati accompanied, like the other brunette, where the girl pointed. In a chair in the far corner of the room, Giorno was looking directly at the TV. No. Giorno was looking to Mista switching channels. No... For Mista with his back tilted down, aiming to switch channels, with his ass raised more than his head. The blonde's eyes were transfixed and obvious. Teenagers.
“After all, which channel do you want? There aren’t many options on the turtle antenna!” Mista’s voice denounced his annoyance.
“Ah, nevermind. You can turn off.” Trish exchanged amused looks with a somewhat confused Narancia, but who followed the whispered laughter. Buccellati shook this head. To close with a golden key, the girl still intercepted Giorno's arm as he passed the couch. "Hey, Giorno... What do you think of Mista's pants?" Buccellati couldn’t see Trish's face, fully turned toward the younger boy.
The blonde glanced in another direction, probably Mista, and answered seriously. "Unholy." He went to the living room table without further explanation. Trish laughed softly, Narancia looking at her with a confused look. Buccellati had to admit that the tiger-striped synthetic leather pants really did attract attention. What is the meaning of fashion, if it’s not to highlight the best in someone?
[Operation Arrivederci Tiger Pants: ATTEMPT 03 – ABSOLUTE FAILURE]
[LA FINE]