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Gangsta's Paradise

Chapter Text

It was sunny out, the perfect weather, not too hot thanks to the nice breeze blowing. Plants were blooming and trees were doing tree stuff, the bugs were out and already flying up people's noses, and the wildlife was out doing whatever it is they were doing. It was lively and a refreshing break from winter and Narancia Ghirga couldn't hold back from whistling a little tune and hopping around, a spring in his step. It was nice and his foot caught on something-sending him face first into the pavement with a loud "oh shit!"

Picking himself back up, and ignoring the offended granny nearby, Narancia looked around for whatever tried killing him, ready to return the favor. There wasn't anyone around who could have done it, the granny too far away and probably too old and slow and frail, and the rest of the suspects were way across the street. Looking back down, there were some cracks in the pavement, but what really caught his eye was the weird circular shell looking thing, half in the grass. Narancia lifted the thing up to eye level to come face to face with a tiny head tucked between the two halves of a shell, stumpy legs flailing.

He found a turtle.

At this point, anyone else would have probably put the turtle down somewhere else out of the way. But this was Narancia Ghirga and he nearly tripped over it and he had already looked into it's tiny eyes and decided he was going to keep him. He'd never had a pet before and he might as well start now.

Wandering around the shopping district until he found a pet store, Narancia checked his pockets and wallet; fourty five in paper and a couple coins. That would be enough, especially with the classic mafioso discount.

After some careful intimidation, not so careful persuasion, and a few choice name-drops, Narancia was now the proud owner of a brand new turtle tank, some free toys, heater rocks and lamps, a tank filter and water treating stuff, some treats, some food, some 'w-whatever man just take it okay!'- it was a good haul. And Coco Jumbo thought so too, he was sure, and that was his name now, Narancia decided that instant.

Lugging his very legal purchases back to the gang safehouse, Narancia unpacked all his- the turtles new turtle swag. He followed all the set up instructions- eventually getting tired of reading all this stuff about chlorine treatments and electrical hazards before just consulting the internet.

Seven YouTube tutorials and ten turtle videos from the autoplay queue later and Narancia had a pristine and damn good looking tank set up, filter chugging away in the water. He was about to drop Coco Jumbo into his nice new watery paradise when the door came open, Fugo back from class.

"Hey, I'm home-" a pause as red eyes moved from the mess of boxes and turtle stuff on the floor, to Narancia and his outstretched arms, to the turtle hovering over the full tank of water.

"Thats a fucking tortoise."

The tank was emptied, wiped out, a few bags of terrarium gravel and bark chips cleaned and layered down, toys and heat rocks and fake foliage and decor set up... by Fugo. Narancia was relegated to watching documentaries on the differences between land and water Testudines.

By the time Fugo finished setting up the glass tank, now suited for a land tortoise like Mr. President (a better name in his opinion), Abbachio let himself into the flat. Brown sack of booze and pastries in one hand, keys still in the other, purple eyes sliding lazily from the turtle video being narrated by Sir David Attenborough on the flat screen, to the tank on the end table, to the mess of boxes and junk on the floor, and finally to the somewhat guilty faces of Narancia and Fugo.

The door was slammed shut.

That could have gone better, but the two were now proudly watching their new friend slowly come out his shell. They didn't actually know what gender it was and neither was volunteering to find out, but they collectively decided he was a he. They did not agree on the name, however.

A little while passed, the soothing voice of an esteemed field biologist waxing poetic in the background as the two picked up their mess and marveled at their new companion. It was a job well done and they felt proud of their handiwork.

Four knocks at the door, a muffled 'oh shit' followed by a quick extra knock and Mista came in, followed by Giorno.

"Hey guys, what's... up?"

Two sets of eyes, one dark and one soft blue, moved from the man who is considered to be the greatest nature documentarist in the history of broadcasting, to the two guilty looking boys on the couch, to the well decorated tank with not as well decorated turtle.

"You uh, got a new friend there?" Mista asked side eyeing the newest addition as Giorno went to go look.

"His name is Coco Jumbo," Narancia said at the same time Fugo said, "his name is Mr. President."

Mista stared, "right."

Giorno hummed, "if I'm not mistaken, I believe this particular species of tortoise is actually protected."

Fugo slapped a pale hand to his face as Narancia gave a confused "what?"

"It means that the species is in danger of extinction, so the collection and keeping is illegal under federal law. He'll need to be released at a nature preserve."

"What!"

"Ughhh, all that work-"

Mista rolled his eyes, "we can get another turtle-"

"Tortoise."

As Mista went to a pet store, Narancia and Fugo accompanied Giorno to the local nature reserve on the edge of town, half in awe of the shiny car ("Mista definitely has a sugar daddy." "Shhh not so loud!") and half heartbroken.

Giorno greeted the conservationist, explaining the situation for the two mafioso, too preocupied saying their farewells. They'd had him less than a day, a few hours at best, but he was a gangster through and through. The conservationist had a look of poorly concealed disgust at the display while Giorno puttered about looking at the information boards, slipping a few large bills into the donation box.

"Goodbye Coco Jumbo, you go show those other turtles how real gangsters roll. Get some hot turtle bitches like you were meant too. We'll never forget you."

"Be safe out there Mr. President, you were the best tortoise a gang could have."

Mista ended up getting an aquatic turtle.