(Bruno Buccellati and Leone Abbacchio have gathered in front of their apartment, labeled ‘Imperatore Appartamenti’. The both of them look like their manga and anime counterparts, but are sporting much different clothes, with Buccellati wearing expensive-looking clothes, and Abbacchio wearing his policeman uniform.)
Abbacchio: You sure about that? It’s a pretty fucking risky thing to do, Buccellati.
Buccellati: Don’t worry about me. I’m just doing what has to be done. For the right of this community, and for everyone’s monetary rights as well. That man won’t go undercover any longer.
Abbacchio: Well I know you’ve had some insane ideas in the past, but, c’mon. The landlord’s identity? Isn’t that too much?
Buccellati: But you trust me, right?
Abbacchio: (Sigh.) Of course I trust you. I’m just saying, you’re trying to find out who the landlord is. And that’s fine. But we don’t even know the dude’s name, or where the hell he lives, or even what he looks like. Shit, he could be one of us and we wouldn’t know.
Buccellati: Abbacchio, I’m sure you’re not the landlord. Neither of us has to be.
Abbacchio: Yeah, kind of spoke without thinking first. It’s like I’m fucking Guido Mista up here.
(A taxi stops in front of them, catching both men’s attention. Giorno Giovanna steps out of it. He’s also wearing expensive-looking clothing, but none of that titty window shit. He keeps his strange three doughnut hairstyle from the original source.)
Buccellati: Hey, look who came back.
Abbacchio: Christ Al-fucking-mighty.
Giorno: Nice to see you again, Abbacchio.
Buccellati: (Whispering to Abbacchio.) What do you even have against him? He’s the youngest son and heir to the Brando family, and his father is a lawyer. Besides, he’s like fifteen years old.
Abbacchio: (Whispering back to Buccellati.) I’m an Aries, he’s an Aries as well, and he’s also a brat. I can’t not hate him.
Buccellati: (Turning back to Giorno.) Anyway, excuse Abbacchio. He can be a tad irritable when on patrol. How was the exchange like? You went to the United States, right?
Giorno: It was fine, but not the best exchange I’ve been at. I don’t even think there’s been a better exchange I’ve been at, actually. All of them have had their ups and downs.
Abbacchio: Next year you should go to Spain or some similar crap. Perhaps your bullshit dream about becoming a gardener or whatever the fuck will magically fix its ongoing economical crisis.
Abbacchio: Erm, sorry for that. I’m an Aries, I tend to get carried away with this shit.
Giorno: By the way, the landlord has just begun setting up a series of apartments at New York and Los Angeles. Saw some ads as I was visiting California with the group. Thought I’d let you know.
Abbacchio: Son of a fuck is aiming for complete American domination.
Buccellati: We were just talking about the landlord here. Abbacchio seems confused about my idea.
Abbacchio: The fuck you mean confused? I simply think you’re aiming a bit too high, Buccellati. The landlord’s new goals of taking over all forty-eight contiguous States seem more real.
Buccellati: I plan to find out about the landlord’s true identity all by myself.
Giorno: Okay, I have to agree with Abbacchio on this. You may be aiming too high.
Abbacchio: I can’t believe Giorno fucking Giovanna of all people agrees with my thoughts. Even the freak from the third floor would be better than this.
Giorno: We don’t even know where the landlord is at the moment.
Buccellati: You two haven’t even heard how I plan to find out about his identity. I’m not even going to resort for any sort of risky methods. That goes for you, Abbacchio.
Abbacchio: How do you even fucking plan to begin? We don’t even have a clue on the dude’s whereabouts. Just the sudden news Giorno has shared with us.
Giorno: Well, to begin with, shouldn’t the landlord have any kind of social media? Or his own site for the apartments?
Abbacchio: Giorno Giovanna… (Sigh.) You say a lot of weird shit, all the time, perhaps without any sort of plan on mind. But that has to be the most pointless crap you’ve said in these three months. And I’ve overheard your Discord conversations with Fugo.
Buccellati: There is an official website for the apartments, but it reveals absolutely nothing about the landlord, not even his name or his phone number. In fact, the actual website is run by multiple communal presidents, including ours.
Abbacchio: Someone’s got to teach Risotto Nero about web design.
Buccellati: As for social media, there’s also no signs of the landlord. This apartment’s social media, for example, is run by several different people.
Giorno: That man is obsessed with keeping his identity a secret.
Abbacchio: I can’t, for the love of Caravaggio, believe that I have to agree with Giorno Giovanna of all people.
Giorno: Though, I must confess that it might be a noble goal after all. I still don’t know your reasoning behind his idea, Buccellati.
Buccellati: Improving our socio-economical status, forcing the landlord to reduce our taxes, and hopefully improving other different aspects of this apartment. Those are my main goals, though my focus is simply to find out who he is.
Abbacchio: Risotto Nero is also an Aries yet he’s barely any annoying compared to goddamn Giorno. Literally the only dumb thing he does is walking around shirtless during summer. Otherwise he’s a decent president.
Giorno: I could assist with your research, Buccellati. Perhaps I could get my father into this. I haven’t asked him about it, but I have a feeling he might know something.
Abbacchio: The most annoying son of a fuck in this place isn’t even an Aries. It’s like two people. It’s a Sagittarius and a Capricorn. And the Sagittarius isn’t even Mista, but I wish it were.
Buccellati: (Shaking hands with Giorno.) Know that every little thing will help this investigation, Giorno Giovanna. I expect a lot of discoveries from you.
(Giorno waves goodbye to both Buccellati and Abbacchio. The latter ignores this, and instead frowns at him. Giorno opens the apartment’s door and enters.)
Abbacchio: I mean, Mista is a pain in the ass, but he’s just a homophobe. With some hard work, we can maybe stop him from being a dick and spewing slurs like rice at a wedding. The other Sagittarius, though, is a goddamn trainwreck. And don’t even get me started on that fucking Capricorn.
Buccellati: You’re right, Abbacchio. You should focus less on Giorno and more on helping Mista stop being so insufferable. And maybe help me with my research.
Abbacchio: I’m only helping you on your research because, well, you are you, and we get along. If Giorno doesn’t contribute jack shit, maybe you should kick him. Physically speaking. However, Buccellati. I still think your idea of revealing the landlord’s identity is kind of, as the kids say, off the shits.
Buccellati: We’ll see.