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Diavolo woke up at approximately two in the morning to a loud bang noise coming from his door. He fell off his bed and, now quite pissed, marched to the door and flung it open.
"I SWEAR TO GOD," Diavolo screeched. "FOR THE LAST FUCKING TIME, I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ABOUT OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST-"
He stopped his rant when he finally noticed that it was not some random business man standing in front of him, but his daughter, Trish Una.
Diavolo's personality did a complete one eighty as he opened his door wide, inviting Trish in.
"Come on in, Trish!" He said warmly. His eyes weren't fully open and he was still tired, but Diavolo did care about his daughter. He tried to make her some tea…which was really just five mint leaves in some hot water.
"Aren't you supposed to be with Donatella?" Diavolo asked her as he sat down next to her. "Did something happen to your mom? Did you guys get into an argument?"
"Not really," Trish admitted, gingerly sipping at her ‘tea' if you could even call it that. "Mom wouldn't agree with what I'm gonna ask you, so…I kinda need a favor, padre."
"Anything, mi amor."
Trish sipped at her tea for a moment before she actually spoke.
"There's a concert happening tomorrow evening," Trish slowly said. "And I don't know when they might be back to perform in Italy. So I kind of…want you to drive me to the concert."
“What about Ermes?" Diavolo questioned, a little confused. "She is your bodyguard but, and no offense, you do come off as a…bit demanding. Can't she drive you?"
"After what happened at the coffee shop, I don't want to ask much of her." Trish responded a bit sheepishly. "And you know that mom wouldn't let me go out…so can you drive me to the concert?"
"…What happened at the coffee shop?"
"A lot."
"Well, if it's just you going to the concert," Diavolo finally said after a moment of consideration. "Then I can drive you to where it is. Once it's done, I'll pick you up and drop you back over Donatella's house. Alright?"
"Thank you so much, dad!" Trish cried, pecking him on the cheek. "I promise that you'll have a good time!"
And with that, Trish went up to her room and Diavolo went back to sleep. Tomorrow could be a great night. He would be able to spend some quaility time with his daughter, bonding over something she enjoyed. Nothing could go wrong…
Right?
No, was the answer.
***
The night of the concert, Ermes came knocking on Diavolo's doorstep.
"Are you here to get Trish?" Diavolo asked her. "Because I assure you, she's in safe hands."
"Nah, I'm just tagging along to party." Ermes admitted, plopping onto the couch. "So when are we going?"
To be honest, Diavolo did not want to bring along another person. After all, this concert was a good distance away and he was already doing enough.
But then again, Ermes was a good bodyguard and WAS protecting his daughter from certain death. Besides, he most likely wasn't going to stay for the entirety of the concert. And even though Trish was a strong Stand User, it was always good to have a backup.
"Well, alright," Diavolo admitted rather hesitantly. "I suppose you CAN tag along…"
"Great!" Ermes cheerfully exclaimed. "I'm really glad you said it!"
Trish came down the stairs, her usual outfit on with only a few pieces of jewelry to complement her look. She looked rather fashionable.
With that out of the way, Trish, Diavolo, and Ermes headed over the car. It was a loud white car of unknown type. But either way, it could fit all of them. Trish sat in the front while Ermes chilled in the back.
And with that, Diavolo drove to where Trish told him to go to.
And that…was when it really went down.
***
"Why are we in front of a house?" Diavolo questioned as he realized the address led to a rather nice-looking villa. It overlooked Rome and had a cozy aura to it covered in darkness.
"I…kind of lied about only me and Ermes going to the concert," Trish admitted, a little embarrassed. "We only have to make one more stop and then I PROMISE that's it."
Before Diavolo could say anything, the door to the villa burst open and Tooru Satoru came running out.
Tooru Satoru was the world's greatest detective and had come to Italy to solve a murder mystery. But one thing led to another and now Tooru was in good hands with the members of Passione.
Tooru ran down the stairs with ease, but at the last step, he came tumbling down. Kind of like when Peter Griffin fell down the stairs.
Tooru lay on the ground for a moment before he jumped up with ease. His hair, which was round and perfectly circular, somehow hadn't gotten messed up.
"Hey guys!" Tooru shouted, leaning against the car window. "We headin' out to the concert now?"
"We gotta make one more stop, but that's all." Trish admitted, smirking slightly. "Good to see you, Tooru."
"…Is anyone else coming?" Diavolo hissed.
"Well, this isn't my villa," Tooru admitted. "The others are coming rather soon."
"…Oh god, you don't mean-"
Almost on cue, Secco Redenzione came barreling out of the house and down the stairs. But instead of falling down one stair, he fell down the ENTIRE FLIGHT of stairs.
Diavolo let out a groan, slamming his head against the wheel as it let out a loud honk. His head lasted a good ten seconds before he finally looked up.
"Are you FUCKING kidding me?" Diavolo groaning, giving Secco a ‘bruh' face. "I mean…you're a good guy…BUT YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?!"
"Yeah, I am." Secco snapped back. "Why the fuck are you criticizing me, bitch? You dress like a damn stripper with your fucking mesh shirt and pink hair."
"A good two-thirds of your skin is on display." Diavolo shouted back. "And by the way, let me clarify: I only agreed to bring Trish and Ermes to the concert. NOT. YOU. TWO."
"Well you better not be thinking of leaving me out of it, because I'm going with you."
"You better not."
Almost on cue, Cioccolata Avvelenato came walking out of the villa and down the steps. But instead of falling down, he walked down gracefully without a problem.
"…I am going to fucking FLIP." Diavolo stated blankly staring at the three newcomers. "I have put up with Ermes and Trish, NOT YOU THREE."
"How about you shut up?" Cioccolata said rather simply, his voice calm yet stern. "You may be my Boss, but frankly, I won't tolerate your rudeness."
"Have you taken a LOOK at yourself?!" Diavolo shouted back, exiting the car to confront him. "Your damn hair is GREEN. It looks like MOLD. And what the fuck is with your MAKEUP? It's just a line down your nose and two down your cheeks."
"And you look like half a stripper and half a prostitute." Cioccolata snapped back. "If you must know, I chose my current look because I think it's cute. And I don't think you have any right to say that."
"Are we going to stop fighting and get going?" Ermes shouted over them. "I swear to god, if you too don't get going…"
"Fine!" Diavolo retorted back. "But my car isn't the biggest one, so it's gonna be a little cramped. So…how is the seating situation gonna work?"
"I'm still sitting in the front." Trish stated, sitting primly and neatly. "And nothing is going to stop me."
"Well then, I'm sitting in the middle." Tooru murmured, scrolling through his phone.
"No, you aren't." Diavolo snapped back. "Go back in the trunk, there's enough breathing room."
"What a DELIGHTFUL offer. But I'm going to refuse."
"What if I go in the back?" Ermes asked. "I don't really mind. That way the others can take the middle seats."
"…Fine." Diavolo said through gritted teeth. "I swear to fuck, if there is one more person we need to pick up-"
"Um…there is." Trish said, incredibly worried.
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!"
***
The car pulled up to a small church where a man stood in front of the doors. This man was Enrico Pucci, a priest who also sometimes worked alongside Passione.
"Finally, SOMEONE I can tolerate." Diavolo groaned, rubbing his temples.
"Glad that you think that." Pucci added, getting into the car and sitting next to Tooru in the trunk. "But I will clarify that I'm not here to party or get wild: I am simply here because Trish asked me to."
"Yeah, yeah, just don't piss me off." Diavolo snapped. "Alright, are we ready to go?"
There was a moment of silence before Diavolo restarted the car.
"You know, it's kind of cramped in here." Pucci said from the back. "Are you SURE there's no other place I can sit?"
"Secco can sit on my lap." Cioccolata offered.
"OH MY FUCKING GOD, YOU TWO ARE NOT HAVING SEX IN MY CAR!" Diavolo shouted, turning around to give them a death glare. "ARE WE CLEAR ON THAT?!"
"Y-yeah, we're clear." Secco said nervously.
"Good." Diavolo added.
Diavolo finally got the car ride stared as Pucci moved to sit in the middle.
And that was when it went off the rails.
***
"It's too quiet," Diavolo said after a moment of driving. "Does anyone have any stories or…god forbid…music?"
"I got an MP3," Secco offered, reaching into his pocket and pulling it out. "I only have one playlist on it though."
"Well what songs are on it?"
"The songs I like."
"…I don’t have much hope for that.”
"I don't mind whatever music you got, just PLEASE don't play any country music," Ermes groaned.
"I gotcha," Secco murmured, connecting his MP3 up and getting it started.
It was dead quiet…and then, the radio blared Secco's music.
"FUCK THE POLICE COMIN' STRAIGHT FROM THE UNDERGROUND." It blasted out.
Diavolo nearly swerved onto the curb, whipping around to stare at Secco.
"Are you SERIOUSLY playing an N.W.A song?" Diavolo screeched as the rap song blared out the speakers. "Because I don't really care for rap music!"
"There's only five good Italian songs, the rest are opera," Trish shouted back at her dad. "Just let him play the damn rap music!"
"I'm trying to drive here!" Diavolo bellowed back.
"I don't think you're listening to me, Dad!"
"FUCK THAT SHIT, ‘CAUSE I AIN'T THE ONE FOR A PUNK MOTHERFUCKER WITH A BADGE AND GUN!" The radio continued to blare.
Diavolo did not want to listen to hardcore rap music, but Secco, Ermes, and Tooru were rocking out. Even Pucci was bopping his head to the beat.
"I thought you were a law-abiding priest!" Diavolo called to Pucci. "You like this music, despite the message?"
"I can enjoy rap music even though I'm a priest." Pucci retorted.
"WELL THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SOMETHING?!"
"I have no idea why you're yelling!"
"You let him play that shit, dipshit!"
The song went on for a good moment before it faded into silence. Diavolo sighed gently, finally about ready to rest…
Until the next song came on which was Y.M.C.A. Earrape version.
"Oh my fucking god, I'm going to puke." Diavolo moaned.
"We're almost there, Dad," Trish said nervously.
"Nope, I can't do it."
Diavolo swerved onto the curve as he fell out of the car. He threw up onto the pavement, retching from his migraine.
He looked up, and there, was the F.B.I.
"FBI! Drop your weapons and come out!" a voice shouted.
"ALL BECAUSE I DROVE ONTO THE CURVE?!" Diavolo snapped back. "DO YOU EVEN FUCKING KNOW WHO I AM?"
"…Oh god, this is gonna be horrible." Tooru groaned, covering his head.
"Fuck," Ermes murmured, leaning forward and peering out the windows.
"Well?" Diavolo asked. "Am I arrested because I drove on the curb?"
"You may be a mafia boss, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to back down!" One of the agents shouted.
Diavolo, about fed up with all of this, got back into his car and drove towards the F.B.I agents. He crashed into one of the nearby cars, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get to the concert already.
"Secco, turn on your playlist."
"…Why?"
"JUST TURN IT ON!"
The speakers began blaring ‘Fuck Tha Police' as the F.B.I and the gang entered a chase. The police could definitely hear the music and they were DEFINITELY pissed off.
Diavolo kept going, crashing into other cars and doing donuts in the middle of the road. He zoomed past the red light, getting away from the police.
After a good ten minutes of chasing, the police FINALLY got away from them. Diavolo's forehead was drenched with sweat, about ready to snap.
"Is everyone alright?" Diavolo asked, turning around to stare at them despite the fact they probably weren't.
Literally EVERYONE was fucked up. Trish's brassiere was twisted on its side, Tooru and Secco had fallen on the floor, Cioccolata bonked his head on the window, Ermes was cramped up into a tiny ball, and Pucci's robe was ruined.
"DAMN YOU ALL!" Diavolo roared, swerving to avoid a large pothole.
Trish screamed. "I'm not gonna make it! I'm going to die!"
Oh, they didn't.
But it got worse.
***
Ten minutes after the chase, Cioccolata raised his hand.
"…Yes?" Diavolo asked through gritted teeth. "What is it now?"
"I…need to urinate," Cioccolata said, looking clearly uncomfortable.
"I am NOT fucking pulling aside for you to take a piss," Diavolo shouted, gripping the wheel so hard that it could almost snap. "Piss out the window if you want, I don't give a fuck!"
"You know…" Secco murmured, shifting around in Cioccolata's lap. "If you NEED to really piss…then you can go in my mouth. I-I don't mind…"
That comment did not go unnoticed.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Trish shouted, craning her head around to stare at them.
"I said, if you really have to piss," Secco repeated himself. "Then go in your boyfriend's mouth. I don't mind."
Diavolo glared at Secco. He was probably going to punch him, but he had a feeling it wouldn't do any good.
"Go in his mouth."
Secco got down to the floor near Cioccolata's crotch, looking up at him.
"NONE OF THIS IS IN THE BIBLE!" Pucci screeched, his eyes widening to the size of a water bottle cap. Poor boy would probably need therapy after this. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"
"You can do it, Cioccolata," Secco said, licking his lips. "Just do it quick."
"You two are into some WEIRD shit," Tooru said, pressing himself against the opposite side. "But I'm not kink shaming."
"YOU SHOULD BE!" Ermes shouted from the back.
"Are you at LEAST going to spit it out?" Cioccolata asked Secco, incredibly concerned on what the hell was going on.
"…"
"…Alright people, look away."
"ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO PISS IN HIS MOUTH?!" Diavolo screeched, nearly swerving into a tree.
"You got one shot, do NOT miss your chance to blow!" Tooru shouted. "This opportunity comes once in a lifetime…yo."
"PISSING IN SOMEONE'S MOUTH IS NOT AN ACCOMPLISHMENT!" Pucci shouted, hiding behind the trunk seat. "YOU'RE ALL GAYS!”
Ermes bonked Pucci over the head, about ready to cry. "Cio, just piss in his mouth for god's sake."
Diavolo was about ready to loose it, but he did NOT want to pull over and waste time…and hell, these fuckers probably wouldn't care if Secco got some mouth disease from taking a drink of some musky Italian piss.
Everyone looked away from Cioccolata and Secco, trying to act as if nothing was going on. And sadly, Diavolo was forced to look at the mirror. Where he could SEE what the fuck was going on.
He heard Cio's pants unzip and then he heard the slow whizzing of piss coming out. Diavolo was about ready to fucking snap. He turned his attention towards Trish and she was about ready to cry.
"It's just pee, Trish," Diavolo said, trying to comfort her. "It's not…I mean…I'm pretty sure it's not gonna kill you or anything."
After an agonizing thirty seconds, Diavolo looked up and finally noticed that Cioccolata was done pissing.
"Alright everyone, you can all look now." Diavolo shouted. Everyone let out a sigh of relief…
And then they noticed that the window was NOT opening, meaning that Secco PROBABLY did drink the piss.
"CIOCCOLATA, DID HE DRINK THE PISS?" Diavolo screeched, pulling to the side and hitting the breaks.
"…No comment." He responded.
Tooru, who HAD been looking at the two of them when it went down, looked traumatized.
"Are you even sane, Secco?"
"NO COMMENT."
"YOU DIDN'T DRINK HIS FUCKING PISS, DID YOU?"
"NO. COMMENT."
***
After an agonizing trip that would probably end with a car crash, they FINALLY arrived at the concert…
Which had only ten other people there.
Actually, it wasn't even a concert venue. It was just a park with a wooden stage.
And Fugo and Mista, two of the people who WORKED alongside Diavolo, were on the stage.
"…Trish." Diavolo started, ACTUALLY breaking through the car wheel's rubber with his grip. "You said that this band probably wouldn't tour in Italy. But the members are my subordinates who LIVE in Italy. DID YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME?"
"I did not, I swear!" Trish exclaimed. "Their damn band is probably gonna fail!"
"…I don't get paid enough for this shit." Diavolo groaned, falling out of the car. "I'm just going to get drunk."
The gang walked over to the plastic seats and sat down. Well, Pucci's seat practically collapsed.
"Alright, dudes!" Mista shouted over the microphone. "Welcome to our first concert! Sit back, relax, and let's get this show on the road!"
The microphone cut out at several times, so there was a long awkward silence. Fugo looked in pain, but who could blame ‘em?
Also, there were no lights. Just five stage lights that barely illuminated Mista.
With that, Mista and Fugo started performing ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ the best song in the world…to the hillbilly’s at least.
"Oh, this song sucks!" Diavolo shouted out loud. Fugo gave him a side-eye, but he definitely agreed with him.
After a few minutes of awkwardness, Mista and Fugo finished the song and sat down.
"Alright!" Mista said, trying to get his voice back. "We're going to start up the next song, but we're going to take a break…alright?"
No one said anything.
"…ALRIGHT!"
The moment Mista walked offstage, Pucci walked over to Fugo and handed him some money. He looked at the money for a moment before he started playing Messiah over the speakers.
Diavolo's mind tuned out the holy song and only connected back into reality once he heard Mista and Terunosuke performing ‘Toxic' by Brittney Spears.
"Toxic!" Trish screamed. "I fucking love this song!"
"Me too!" Tooru shouted, before he started singing along with the hook.
Diavolo watched in pure shock as he watched Trish and Tooru sing off key to the sound of Mista equally horrible singing. He turned to Ermes and Pucci who were just watching the band act like a bunch of dumbasses.
"WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?" He yelled.
"They're awful!" Ermes said.
"I know, right?"
"…Where are Cioccolata and Secco?" Pucci asked Diavolo and Ermes. "They were here during Messiah, but…"
Ermes pointed over to a dark corner of the park where a brick wall stood alongside a few dumpsters. "Last I saw, they went behind the wall to do somethin'." She stated.
"Oh my fucking god, these two are going to get a piss kink just from this one night." Diavolo groaned, sitting down next to the two. "You guys got any booze?"
"There's food and drinks over there," Pucci stated, pointing over to a small area of the park. "They have vodka and week old beer…it don't even taste good though."
"I don't like the taste of that stuff anyway, but if you guys got a half empty bottle of anything that's at least a few dollars, I'll take it."
Diavolo lay on the grass, trying to let the coolness of it relax his migraine. Mista had just finished singing ‘Here We Go Again' and he was about ready to take a nap.
…Until Mista started singing ‘21st Century Schizoid Man,' which was when Diavolo's brain really kicked into third gear.
"I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!" Diavolo screeched, running up the stage to sing the song despite the fact that there were only fourteen lines and it was a seven minute song.
Trish looked up at her father as he began screeching out the words to the song. What should've been a fun concert the two of them could've shared became an absolute mess when she tried to include her friends. And she did feel bad that he was driven up the wall by the shenanigans of her friends.
The song, hell, the whole CONCERT, got cut short when some five year old came on the stage and started Fortnite dancing, accidentally tripping and unplugging seven major wires. Diavolo's energetic mood immediately faded away as he nearly fell off the stage.
"I'm sorry, dad…" Trish murmured as she and her dad walked back to the car. "Really, I am. This was supposed to be something for the both of us…and I ruined it."
"This day was…not a good day," Diavolo admitted. "Especially with the car chase and…the piss moment. But I'm glad we were able to have a fun time together."
Everyone crammed into Diavolo's car, in less than expected states. Half the steering wheel was snapped off, Tooru had a bruise on his head, and Secco was passed out.
"Can we go to Starbucks, padre?" Trish asked as Diavolo started up the car. "Y'know…to calm down."
Well, Diavolo could never say no to a good drink.