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La Squadra Gets Lost in the Grocery Store (Again)

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It was the weekend and the nine whole members of La Squadra were relaxing at the base. Until Prosciutto suddenly shot up from where he was sitting.

“Everyone. We need to go shopping. Now.” he commanded.

At his unusual outburst, the younger ones, namely Pesci, Melone, and Illuso jumped up from their spots and proceeded to get ready to leave. The others looked over at the blonde, different levels of surprise written on their faces. Risotto was even a little shocked but that was probably also due to Prosciutto accidentally hitting him in the face with his elbow when he stood up.

“Prosciutto,” the tall goth man began. “Why, pray tell, does everyone need to go?” With that question, he asked exactly what everyone else was thinking, but were too afraid to do.

Instead of catching him off guard like Risotto was hoping, Prosciutto of course had an answer prepared.

“Well, since I couldn’t think of the last time we all had a little mission together, if you want to call it that, I figured we could all go grocery shopping.”

Apparently that was not the response the resident ice gremlin was expecting to hear because he had started mumbling under his breath about how stupid that sounded.

“I can’t believe that old man is making everybody go grocery shopping. That’s so idiotic!” Those were the only words the people around him could make out, including Prosciutto himself.

“If you want to starve, Ghiaccio, you can stay here with Formaggio’s cats.” he replied calmly. Ghiaccio stared up at him in disbelief, “There is absolutely no way I am going to stay here with those hairy gremlins he calls pets!”

“Then I suppose you’ll have to go, Ghia,” Gelato said smugly, speaking up from the other side of the living room. Instead of answering the ice cream man, Ghiaccio stomped his way up the stairs and into his room to retrieve his shoes.

On the lower level, the rest of the adults and Formaggio sat still on the couches, simply listening to the others moving around above their heads before the local cheese boy stood up and stretched.

“Well, I suppose I’ll go get ready and leave all you old farts to have old people conversations about healthy foods or whatever,” and with that, Formaggio left the room. However, the slightly more adult members weren’t left alone for too long because soon, five pairs of shoe-clad feet came thundering down the stairs, and the teens burst into the room all at the same time as if they had been racing.

“WE’RE READY!” the previously reluctant group of young assassins screamed, who startled Risotto so much that he nearly fell off the couch. This unusual event caused everyone to burst out laughing or snickering at his momentary vulnerability, and Risotto looked around confusedly at them. This was brushed off, however, and the assassination squad moved towards the door in an attempt to leave the premises, especially the Capo who had been completely embarrassed, not even five minutes ago.

As they left the base, Prosciutto realized that they definitely didn’t have enough room in any vehicle unless they took more than one, but that defeated the purpose of team bonding now didn’t it? So instead of driving, Prosciutto suggested they walk because “they needed the exercise anyway.” This decision, of course, was immediately followed by loud whining and grumbling from the youngest two. Prosciutto just ignored them and tried to convince the others to pay them little attention.

After a very painful thirty minutes of cursed conversations and complaining up and down about literally everything, La Squadra ended up at their destination. Somehow, no one found that nine large men walking down the sidewalk for as long as they had, was weird, considering the majority of them had been yelling non-stop for a good portion of the time. Or when they confidently walked right through the doors with their typical clothing on as opposed to what some would typically wear to a store. Prosciutto was recognized by many of the employees there, if them waving hi or greeting the blonde was anything to go by.

Once safely in the lobby, and mostly uninjured, the instigator of the entire ordeal handed out slips of paper to each teammate, much like he would do during a briefing of an assassination.

“On the piece of paper you have in your hands, is a short list of foods or ingredients you need to get.” When Prosciutto explained this, the other members unfolded their piece to see what they all had to hunt down.

“Now,” he continued. “All of you need to have either a shopping cart, or a basket, whichever you prefer, and only come back when you’ve checked off every item.”

For whatever reason, Melone just had to ask if they could use Stands to help out, but before any logical person could answer that, Ghiaccio had to scream.

“NO, MELONE, WE CAN’T USE OUR STANDS, WHAT KIND OF IDIOT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!? WOULDN’T YOU SUPPOSE THAT SOME RANDOM STRANGERS WHO SEE US WOULD BE REALLY FREAKED OUT ABOUT SOMETHING FLOATING IN THE AIR??” The blue haired gremlin’s words rang out in the mostly empty lobby resulting in some onlookers to warily avoid walking into the entrance.

After Ghiaccio was reprimanded for causing a scene, the assassins split up to complete the most tedious mission they’ve ever received. Somehow, no one ran into anyone else, not even the ice cream dads who seemed to have a specific radar for the other, and for all they knew, it was possible

All was going well on Risotto’s end, up until he got to the last item on his list. The silver haired man stared in confusion at the one word, which coincidentally was the name of a member on the team.

“So all I have to do now is find Prosciutto,” he muttered under his breath. “Well he did say that once we found everything we can check out and meet up, but whatever I guess.” Therefore, Risotto attempted to find the ham man, but little did said man know, he put himself in this situation, and he had to get himself out of it.

Around this point in time, the rest of the squad was running around, literally, trying to find one another, and in some cases, confusedly screaming. Now, another thing Prosciutto accidently did was pair everyone up except for Pesci.

This train of thought distracted him enough that he definitely didn’t notice that he narrowly missed one entire goth man. Not to mention the man who was looking for him. Although somehow, they completely avoided each other, and continued on their ways.

It had to have been at least 2 hours of chaos and mounting anger towards Prosciutto by the time they finally met up again. Without a word, he briskly led the way back to the base, making the other eight jog to catch up with him while trying to keep all the food in their bags. Apparently, going back to the base was a terrible idea because once the food was down, and everything was somewhat calm, Ghiaccio lashed out.

“WHAT WAS THAT ENTIRE THING ABOUT!! YOU SENT US ON A “MISSION” AND THEN PROCEEDED TO TELL US TO MEET UP WITH THE PERSON ON OUR LIST! OUR NAMES MAY BE FOODS, BUT THAT’S NO EXCUSE!”

“And I agree,” Melone said calmly, much to his own surprise. “I can’t believe that you put this mission together, Pros. I would’ve expected something like this to have come from someone like Formaggio,” the lavender haired man finished, managing to roast two whole people without much effort.

Prosciutto tried to explain why this had all happened, but was cut off by Pesci, who tried his hardest to defend his older brother. “I mean, it isn’t really his fault.” he began. “We all seem to have been named after food, maybe Bro was just trying to cook something with certain dishes that happen to share our name?” Illuso sighed.

“Then how come my name was on Formaggio’s list if I’m not named after food? I’m just, illusion.” At this forgotten revelation, everyone turned to look at Prosciutto, expectantly awaiting his answer.

“I… Well, I might have forgotten that you were the only one that didn’t have a particular edible namesake.”

After that, Illuso curled up in his spot on the floor, and had a crisis about his name for the next hour. The others looked over to where the long haired brunette was crying with mild concern displayed across their faces.

“So, what was your intention with the whole shopping thing anyways, Pros?” Gelato questioned immediately after confirming that Illuso would be okay. Sorbet sighed tiredly, knowing full well that the ham man’s answer was going to be similar to what Pesci said.

“We were in need of more food, so I figured that all of us could collect some things and get done quicker in time for dinner tonight.”

“Okay, but why our names?” Risotto spoke up, finally joining in on the interrogation.

Prosciutto visibly shrunk down where he was sitting because he realized there really was no ulterior motive for it. Except there was one thing he could think of that would be a reasonable answer, though not the most trustworthy. “I think I might have gotten distracted while writing down our grocery lists, and transferred names over to them?”

Absolutely no one believed him, but the statement got a short laugh out of Risotto, and regained the attention of Illuso who finally stopped having an existential crisis.

“Guys, I think we might have to change our names.”

 

“Either that or never let Prosciutto be in charge of the shopping lists ever again.”