Work Text:
“Which of you has the best English?” asks Risotto to his group. “Not you, Ghiaccio, we all already know your feelings on anything besides Italian.”
Ghiaccio grumbles about bastardized languages as the others look at each other.
“Mine’s pretty good,” says Formaggio, pushing himself away from the wall. “And I’m not bad with kids. You want me to take care of it?”
“If no one else has any objections,” says Risotto. No one raises any, so he flips through the papers on his desk and hands them to Formaggio. “Here’s what we have so far. Illuso will make flight arrangements for you. Remember, you’re there on business.”
“Risotto Nero,” says the voice of Risotto’s client over the phone. “I was just looking over what my money was going to, since you’re so kind in making my expenses transparent.”
“It’s our policy,” Risotto answers. “Did you have anything specific you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes,” says Doppio. “The plane ticket to Florida.”
Risotto thought it might be that. “Giorno Giovanna was in contact with someone there-”
“Who did you send?” Doppio interrupts.
“Formaggio,” says Risotto, after a hesitation.
“Just Formaggio?” asks Doppio.
“Yes.”
“And what guarantee,” says Doppio, irritation further creeping into his voice, “do I have that he’s not just spending his time at Disneyland?”
“For one thing, Disneyland is in California, so I doubt it,” says Risotto. Doppio grumbles on the other end of the line. “But if you mean Disneyworld, I’m sure that like all of my subordinates, he’s taking his job seriously and not letting anything distract him.”
“...Risotto, I’ve met Formaggio before.”
Risotto sighs. “I was hoping you hadn’t.”
“Formaggio, I’m just going to cut to the chase: how much of your time there have you spent actually working?” Prosciutto asks, drumming his fingers on the desk as he waits for Formaggio’s answer.
Formaggio starts, “Whenever I’m not eating or sleeping-”
“Don’t lie. We’ll fire you for lying.”
“...and, uh, I took one day off to see the local attractions and stuff. But just one day, okay? You can’t go to Orlando and not visit Disney!” says Formaggio. “Please?”
Prosciutto pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can get away with one day off. If you’ve found anything with the other four days you’ve been there.”
“The kid walks into walls,” says Formaggio. “I’ve seen him literally go through the wall of a building and come out the same wall a while later. I know it sounds like I’m making this up, but I swear-”
“I believe you,” says Prosciutto.
“...Seriously?”
Prosciutto glances at the figure holding itself up by the arms in the other corner of his office. All the eyes over its body are focused on him, and he turns away. “I believe in what you say, Formaggio. If he walked into walls, then he walked into walls. But you’re going to have to find out more than that, without taking any further days off.”
“Okay. I can do that. ...But I didn’t get to ride Space Mountain-”
“Do you secretly want to be fired?” asks Prosciutto.
Formaggio gulps loudly. “No, I-”
“Then work.”