Being a centuries-old vampire in the modern world wasn’t easy, especially when he only just awoke from his slumber a few months ago and already had people praying on his downfall. It was hard enough dealing with the shock that came with finding out that ladies nowadays didn’t even cover their ankles; to discover that his life-long enemy had managed to have children before you cut his head off and stole his body, and now his descendants were out for revenge, was enough to send Dio Brando into hysterics.
It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if it weren’t for one of the descendants, Joseph Joestar, possessing a “stand” ability that could track Dio through some kind of spirit photography. Dio himself had this ability too--”Hermit Purple”, it was called--alongside his own unique stand, “The World,” and it made him wonder about the “gravity” that exists between people, the strings of fate that pull them together. Perhaps it was due to this stolen body that he and the Joestars were connected… In any case, he needed to sever this connection before the Joestars were able to deduce his location and kill him. He had to kill them first.
Dio stared at his half-naked body in his vintage full-length mirror, hands on his hips and a grim expression on his face. He was so tired of having to pose sensually like that all day, but he had to look good in case grandnephew Joseph decided to snap a spirit pic. “My muscles are huge, and I am sexy as hell,” he monologued to himself. “So why do I feel such despair?! It’s those wretched Joestars...They are advancing closer and keep evading my assassins. I must hire more as soon as possible, but where to find them? Perhaps I should try looking on ‘the Internet,’ as Pucci calls it...”
The slutty vampire traipsed across the hallway to the living room and pressed the “on” button on his clunky desktop computer. The screen said, “Enter password.”
“Password?!” Dio hollered. “I, Dio, should not require a password! Let me in now!” He banged his fists on the desk and hissed at his stupid useless computer.
Someone was fumbling with the door to the house, so Dio ceased his tantrum and composed himself. In came a young man in fashionable priest attire, arms full of groceries from a successful Trader Joe’s heist--Dio’s roommate and only friend. “Blessings be, Lord Dio!” he greeted.
“Pucci,” said Dio. “Remind me again, what is the password for my compruter?”
“Cock123. All lowercase,” Pucci replied. He then continued toward the mini fridge to put his groceries away.
Dio typed cock123 into the password thing with practiced ease; it only took him 10 minutes to log in this time. He got onto the dark web, then typed “assassins for hire” in the search bar with his index fingers. Meanwhile, Pucci had just finished putting away the groceries and returned to the living room. He sat down on a bean bag and started to read the Bible.
While Dio perused the variety of assassins available on the dark web, he found himself liking the Internet more and more. It was so convenient, much more so than trying to scout out potential hitmen at Walmart or the gas station. “Pucci, who made the Internet?” he asked; whoever came up with such a brilliant idea had Dio’s respect.
“The internet was a blessing from the Lord Jesus to spread the word of God throughout the world,” explained Pucci.
Dio nodded; that sounded like a reasonable answer. Obviously no human could be smart enough to make something so amazing. Satisfied with Pucci’s information, Dio continued his search. A few minutes in, after clicking a questionable link, something even more intriguing than the creation of the Internet popped up on his screen.
“Pucci, what is a milf?” Dio inquired casually.
“I believe it is an acronym that stands for ‘mother I would like to fornicate with.’ Why do you ask, Lord Dio?”
“This advertisement...It claims that there are sexy milves in my area who want to fuck me right now .”
The cursor hovered over the image of one of the alleged milfs, a busty blonde wearing nothing but a hot pink lace bra. Dio smirked. The Internet truly was a blessing. To think, he was only one click away from meeting such a foxy mamacita. There was no way that Dio, the massive slut that he was, could turn down such a salacious offer.
Suddenly the computer mouse was snatched right from Dio’s hand. Dio whipped his head around to see Pucci clutching it protectively against his chest with a look of concern on his face. “You shouldn’t click that ad, Lord Dio! Sex is forbidden under the 11th Commandment, and God punishes filthy little sinners who disobey Him.”
“You dare attempt to deny me, Dio, access to the milves?!” Dio roared, snatching the mouse right back. “Out of my way gay boy, I’m gonna get some pussy!”
Dio shoved Pucci away with ease, sending the priest twink tumbling into the wall. He fumbled with the mouse for a moment before successfully clicking on one of the huge boobs in the ad. The screen suddenly turned an eye-straining shade of blue and a shrill beeping noise rattled the whole computer.
On the other side of the room, Pucci groaned and rubbed his head, slowly recovering from being flung like a booger at the wall. “What’s that horrible sound?” he asked. “Goodness gracious, you didn’t click on that ad, did you?!”
Dio’s gaze remained fixed on the screen as he read a flashing white message in all caps, his expression gradually morphing from confused to enraged. “That accursed milf stole my identity!”
Two hours had passed since the incident, but Dio was still just as upset. He sat at the kitchen table crying and trembling, unable to even eat a bowl of his favorite cereal, Sourpatch Kids cereal, that Pucci had painstakingly prepared for him. It had been pushed to the side, and was getting mushier by the minute. “How could this happen to me?!” Dio sobbed, staring forlornly at the neglected cereal. “I am DIO...”
“Not anymore apparently,” said Pucci, which only made the vampire sob harder. The fact that someone was out there pretending to be him, doing injustice to his name and spending his hard-earned money, made him want to vomit. How dare they try to take his place!
Dio suddenly stood up, a new ferocity in his eyes. He slammed down on the table with a forcefulness that sent a couple soggy Sourpatch kids tumbling to the floor, then picked up the bowl and chugged the rest of them in one go. “I will DESTROY that milf,” he growled, a fearsome conviction in his voice that made Pucci wet himself a little. Dio was practically oozing evil energy. If vibes could kill, his identity thief would already be dead.
“Pucci, we’re going out,” Dio announced, grabbing his red cape and storming toward the door.
“G-going out?” Pucci asked bashfully, his cheeks heating up. “But Dio, I’m a Catholic priest, we can’t—“
“Yes, we are going out,” interrupted Dio. “We are going to find this milf and end her pitiful life! According to the advertisement, she is in this area somewhere. With my superior vampire senses, we should be able to track her down in no time.”
“Oh,” said Pucci. He sighed wistfully, then quickly grabbed his murse (man purse) and hurried after Dio.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the globe…
“Jotaro, sweetie, what would you like for breakfast this morning? We have Poptarts, beet root, Eggo waffles...oh! And your favorite cereal, Sourpatch Kids cereal.”
“Fuck off mom, stupid shitty motherfucker bitch,” said Jotaro.
“Okay,” said Jotaro’s mom.
“Goddamn, that bitch is fucking annoying as hell,” he grumbled after she left the room. The other three men at the breakfast table were silent—they didn’t quite approve of the way Jotaro talked to his mother, but they were too entrenched in their own toxic masculinity to say anything about the mistreatment of women.
“Sooo, about Dio’s nudes,” said Avdol in an attempt to break the awkwardness. “Has Hermit Purple captured any that might suggest his location?”
“Unfortunately not,” said Joseph, “although recent ones suggest that he is not feeling too good. Look at this one.” Joseph pulled out a photograph of a shirtless Dio sitting at a table hunched over with tears streaming down his face, and everyone laughed at his suffering.
“Lame ass pussy boy,” said Jotaro.
“That’s great,” said Avdol, “but we still don’t know where he is.”
“Actually, I think I might have a clue,” said Kakyoin. “Me and Avdol both met him in Egypt, and I have evidence that suggests he’s still there. I was able to track his credit card information using the dark web, and he’s made a lot of purchases in Cairo lately.”
“What kind of purchases?” asked Avdol.
“Most recently a dildo, 67 boxes of Sourpatch Kids cereal, and a house,” reported Kakyoin. “And by the price of it, it’s probably a mansion.”
“A house is a big investment,” said Avdol. “So he’s probably camping out in Cairo long term.”
“That’s good, he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere,” said Joseph. “So we have time to formulate a plan of attack. What do you think Jotaro?”
“I don’t fucking care. Dio’s never done anything to me . You guys can figure it out yourselves. I’m fucking hungry.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have told your mom to—never mind,” said Kakyoin, sighing.
“Tch,” said Jotaro. He left without another word and went to the kitchen, where nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. The Sourpatch Kids cereal box had fallen over, its contents strewn about all over the floor, and next to the mess, his mother lied unconscious and barely breathing.
“My Sourpatch Kids cereal!!” Jotaro screamed.
The others rushed into the room as soon as they heard Jotaro’s scream.
“Holly!!” yelled Joseph, rushing over to his passed out daughter.
“What happened to her?!” asked Kakyoin.
“OMG it’s a stand!” said Avdol. “Look, it’s on her back.”
Indeed, Holly had manifested a thornlike stand that looked pretty similar to Joseph’s Hermit Purple. However, instead of enhancing her power, it seemed to be making her weaker.
“How did my mom develop a stand? She is just a stupid woman,” said Jotaro.
“Maybe that is the reason it is making her weaker instead of stronger,” said Avdol. “Everyone knows women can’t handle stands, they are simply too fragile and delicate. The only reason women exist is to make more men!”
“Amen brother,” said Jotaro.
“This must have something to do with Dio,” said Joseph. He then proceeded to tell everyone the story of how Dio and the Joestar family were connected. “So yeah. Since we’re like connected or whatever, Dio must be able to send out his toxic vibes to give us stands and hurt Holly.” Joseph stroked his daughter’s blonde hair sadly. “Poor, dear, sweet, innocent, precious Holly. We’ll save you somehow, don’t worry.”
“Wait, so it’s Dio’s fault that my Sourpatch Kids cereal is all ruined?!” Jotaro hissed, clenching his fists. “Oh hell no, it’s personal now. We are going to Cairo right fucking now. I’m gonna KILL Dio.”
But Dio was not in Cairo. He was in a McDonald’s in Florida with Pucci after an unsuccessful milf hunt.
“Christ on a cross, how many fucking blonde bimbos are there in Florida?! You kill one, then ten more come crawling out of a Panera to take their place. Ugh, we’ll never find the right milf at this rate.”
“We’ll find her,” Pucci reassured Dio, patting him on the back. “But right now I believe it is your turn to order.”
“Right.” Dio sniffed and wiped a tear away, then turned to face the cashier, a well-muscled man with poofy gray hair. “One Fortnite burger, please.”
“Um, that isn’t a real burger,” said the cashier.
“Well make it real, then!” demanded Dio.
“I don’t even know what that is, it’s not on the menu and we don’t—“
“WHY ARE YOU WITHHOLDING FOOD FROM THE PUBLIC?!”
“WELL, Mister, um—“ Dio squinted to look at the cashier’s nametag “— Polnareff , I hope you know that YOU are the reason I will never be returning to this establishment. Congratulations on the PERMANENT loss of a valued customer.” With a swish of his cape, Dio stormed out of the restaurant, a hesitant Pucci shortly following.
“We always get the weirdest customers at night,” Polnareff mumbled.
McDonalds’ permanent loss was short-lived. Since no other restaurant was open at 2 in the morning, Dio and Pucci were eventually forced to go back.
“Hamburger,” said Dio, avoiding eye contact with Polnareff.
“That will be $3.69,” said Polnareff, and Dio reluctantly handed over his credit card.
Polnareff swiped the card, but didn’t say anything for a long time. He looked nervous. Dio slammed his meatball fist on the counter. “What’s the deal?! Give me my card back.”
“Um..It says your card has been declined,” Polnareff said quickly, tensing up as if Dio was going to attack him. And he might have, if Pucci had not stepped in.
“Um, it’s okay, I can pay for both of us,” said Pucci sheepishly, taking the money out of his murse. He didn’t mind paying for Dio, not at all, but this made it feel like they were on a date or something. Calm down, Pucci. Think holy thoughts…
They got their burgers, but neither Pucci nor Dio could appreciate them fully. Pucci was too flustered around Dio; his hands couldn’t stop shaking when he picked up his burger so the pickles kept falling out. Dio spent so long writing a negative Yelp review that his burger got cold and soggy. There was also the mystery surrounding his credit card. Had the nefarious milf gotten a hold of his credit information too? It pained him to think that all the years he’d spent robbing people and conning them out of their money might be for nothing if his identity thief had squandered all his wealth in less than a day.
If only the bank didn’t have such ridiculous hours, he would simply call right that moment and cancel his credit card. But since they were only open 8-5 during the daytime he’d have to wait and sacrifice his precious beauty sleep to contact them. What a drag.
Chapter 4: Intermission
Please watch this video while Dio waits for the bank to open
After a long, fun night with Pucci playing board games and singing karaoke, it was finally time to call the bank.
“Boop boop boop,” said Dio’s phone as he dialed the number for the bank. After waiting on hold for 17 minutes, he was finally able to speak to a real person.
“Hello, this is the bank, how may I help you?” said the bank lady.
“Hi, it’s Dio. My credit card got declined? Which doesn’t make any sense because I’m fucking rich.”
The bank lady chuckled. “You’re Dio, huh? Nice try, but I know an identity thief when I see one. I mean hear one. How do I know this, you may ask? You’re calling with a Florida area code, first of all. And the real Dio is nowhere near Florida. Even if he was just out traveling, the number you’re calling from doesn’t match the one we have for him in our records. Now are you going to give up or shall I call the police?”
Dio was struggling not to lose his temper. “Listen Sherlock Homes, it’s ME, DIO!!” he screeched, exasperated. “Go ahead and call the cops, I’ll just have sex with them!”
“Persistent, aren’t we?” the bank lady said, scoffing disdainfully. “Well, there may be a chance you’re the real Dio, but I can’t verify it over a phone call. You’ll have to come in for a visit during our office hours so we can compare your face to the ID photo we have on record.”
“But I can’t—I’m uh, busy during the day, I don’t have time to come in.”
“Then I guess you don’t need it fixed that bad, sweetie. :) Watch out sis, or I’ll cancel you instead of your credit card.”
“WRRRYYYYYYYYYY!” Dio screamed in frustration, shutting his flip phone with a loud clat .
“Lord Dio, I heard you scream! What’s wrong?” Pucci asked, rushing to his side.
“The broad from the bank said I have to physically go to the bank to prove I’m the real Dio so they can cancel my credit card,” Dio whined, entangling his fingers in his hair and messing it all up. Not like it mattered, he wasn’t going out today or anything.
“Oh, that’s rough,” said Pucci. “You gotta just get it over with though. It’s not that bad, the bank people are nicer in person.”
“Don’t you see, Pucci? I can’t go even if I wanted to. They’re only open during the day, and I’ll burn to a crisp in the sunlight!”
“Just wear sunscreen then,” said Pucci.
“What is this sunscreen you speak of?”
He explained what sunscreen was to the ancient vampire, then the two of them went to Pucci’s room to get some.
“Ah, here it is. SPF 100,” declared Pucci after rummaging through his drawers for a while. He tossed the bottle to Dio.
Dio rubbed the sunscreen all over his outrageously muscular arms, then took his shirt off so he could rub it on his chest. After all, one never knew when one might have to take one’s shirt off for a fight, and Dio would rather be safe than sorry.
“Ah, Pucci, I can’t seem to reach this spot,” said Dio, gesturing to his back. “Would you mind helping me out?”
“No problem,” said Pucci, but internally he felt like he was about to burst. As his hands ran along Dio’s sculpted shoulders he shuddered, and it wasn’t out of fear.
“Do my butt too, please,” said Dio after he finished.
Pucci didn’t dare ask why Dio couldn’t just do that himself, or why he would ever expose that part of himself to sunlight anyway. Lord forgive me , he thought as he pulled the vampire’s pants down slightly to get the goop on.
Once Dio was covered head to toe in sunscreen, the duo got an Uber to the bank. They had to wait in line for a very long time, but Dio showed incredible patience. After a while Pucci left to go get snacks. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, one of the receptionists announced that she could help the next guest in line. Dio recognized her voice as the same rude lady that was on the telephone.
“Buenos dias, thot,” said Dio grumpily. “I need to cancel my credit card expeditiously.”
“Very well,” said the receptionist curtly. “What is your name and bank ID?”
Dio told her, then she pulled up his secret bank ID pic that they use to verify people’s identities (idk how banks and credit cards work irl but this is how they work in this universe).
“Uh oh sis, looks like your pic doesn’t match your face. You trying to cancel someone else’s credit card, you sick little man?”
“What the hell? How can they not match?” growled Dio. He was so sick of this! “Give me that!” he hissed, grabbing the entire monitor off the lady’s desk.
“Stop that—hey! Security!!” the lady yelled, but Dio already saw his secret ID photo.
“This is LITERALLY me in the pic, what the hell is your issue?”
“I’m sorry, but the hairstyles don’t match,” said the lady sweetly. “We can never be too careful—here at the bank we value our customers’ security.”
“Secure THIS!!” yelled Dio, throwing the computer at the receptionist, who barely dodged it in time. He climbed over the desk like an animal and grabbed the lady’s shirt in his fist, pulling her close so she was in the saliva splash zone when he started to yell her head off. “FINE, I may be having a bad hair day. SO WHAT? I wasn’t planning on going out today until I had to because of your ridiculous protocol. I’M Dio, I’m the ONLY Dio, and I need to know who the FUCK is using my credit card and pretending to be me!!!”
Just then a gaggle of security guards arrived, stanced up and ready to escort Dio out of the building. Pucci staggered in behind them panting. “I tried to stop them, Lord Dio, but their segways were just too fast!” he gasped, crouching down to catch his breath.
Dio didn’t look worried at all about the security guards. In fact, he didn’t even move from his position. “Pucci, close your eyes,” he commanded gently, right before ripping his pants off.
“AHHH SO WHITE! MY EYES! AHHHHH!” the security guards screamed, blinded by the brilliance of Dio’s porcelain buns.
“Do you want to see my ass too or are you going to fucking show me my credit history?!” Dio spat at the receptionist. A light misting of saliva now speckled her forehead.
“Okay, okay! Say it don’t spray it!” the receptionist whimpered, clambering to log in to the computer again. She pulled up “Dio’s” recent purchases: a dildo, several boxes of Sourpatch Kids cereal, and a house in Cairo. “There. You happy?”
“No,” said Dio. He would not be happy until the evil milf who did this was vanquished. “Pucci, let’s go. Our business here is done. Goodbye, wench most foul, I hope you have a terrible day.”
It was decided that the milf must be in Cairo, since she had purchased a house there. As much as Dio would have preferred to take a quick flight to the milf zone, because of his identity theft situation and airlines’ strict security policies, he was forced to take the long way. In the dead of night, he and Pucci snuck on board a cruise headed for Cairo and hoped for the best. The Joestar gang, too, refrained from taking a plane out of paranoia that one of Dio’s henchmen would be there. According to Joseph’s shitty calculations, the probability of getting attacked on a boat was much less than getting attacked on a plane, so they boarded a cruise headed for Cairo and hoped for the best.
As the sun started to rise above the horizon, Dio and Pucci sought refuge in the basement. Pucci laid in a makeshift hammock reading his pocket Bible, while Dio lied on the floor melodramatically. As usual, he had something to complain about.
“The vile stench of wood rot and dead fish down here is killing me,” he whined, pulling up his spandex bodysuit to cover his nose.
“You are already dead, my lord,” Pucci pointed out, not lifting his eyes from the page. “Just stop breathing if it bothers you so.”
At once Dio let go of the fabric and it snapped back to his chest violently. “I can always count on you for clever solutions, Pucci. I was right to make you my disciple. But then, am I, Dio, ever wrong?”
No, Dio Brando was never wrong. Ever. He ruminated on that fact with pride as he stared at the basement’s damp, dark walls. He’d spent much of his undead life staring at damp, dark walls after stealing Jonathan Joestar’s body and hiding out inside a coffin at the bottom of the ocean for the better part of a century. The memory, conjured up by this nautical environment, rustled his jimmies to the core, and really interfered with his ability to keep deluding himself about never being wrong.
“Damn you, Jonathan! Even in death you vex me!” he exclaimed, his toxic vibes nearly spiraling out of control.
“Bro, you smell that?” Kakyoin asked Jotaro, pinching his nose. He and the other three crusaders were chillaxing on deck chairs and soaking up the summer sunshine.
“Oop, sorry, that was me,” confessed Joseph. “Hard to keep ‘em in when y’get to my age, everything down there’s a little loose eheheh.”
“God, disgusting,” said Kakyoin. “I wasn’t talking about your rectal turbulence. It smells...like updog.”
“What’s that?” asked Jotaro.
“Bro, you’re supposed to ask ‘what’s updog.’”
“Hey, come to think of it, it does smell a little strange, and I’m not talking about Joseph’s one-man brass band,” said Avdol. “I’d recognize it anywhere--it’s the smell of bad vibes.”
A pit of dread settled in the men’s stomachs. Could it be that one of Dio’s assassins had somehow followed them there? It was highly unlikely, but they collectively agreed that they should inspect the ship just in case. With the help of Avdol’s vibeology expertise, they tracked the rancid vibes to the basement...the basement where Dio and Pucci were hiding.
“Someone’s coming,” whispered Dio, his superior vampire hearing picking up the footsteps of several people plodding down the stairs.
“Oh, Mr. Staaaand Userrrr, come out come out wherever you are!” the voice of an old man sounded from just outside the door.
“Hey, it could be a Ms. Stand User, we shouldn’t assume genders,” a younger man said tentatively.
“Don’t be an idiot Kakyoin, women can’t be stand users,” said a different young man, this one with a cool, deep voice that sent shivers down Dio’s spine. High fives were exchanged, then the lock on the door rattled. They were trying to break in.
“Shit shit shit,” hissed Dio, doing his best to hide his beefy body behind some boxes.
“What’s the matter? Can’t you simply kill them?” said Pucci, still resting in his hammock.
“It’s-it’s the Joestars. They’ve found me,” said Dio, panicking.
“And? You said it yourself, your stand, The World, is all-powerful. You can beat anyone, right?”
“So you can beat the Joestars!”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Maybe not to a mere mortal, but I, Dio, have surpassed human reasoning. I, Dio--”
“No time for monologuing, they’re gonna bust down the door any second,” said Pucci. “You can do this, I believe in you!”
The pounding on the door reached a crescendo as the young man with the deep voice yelled, “ORA ORA ORA.” The door came crashing down before Dio had a chance to sufficiently hide, so he did the next best thing.
“Oy govna, ye con’t jus barge inty someone’s private room like tha’! Wot if a was naked, eh?” said Dio, trying his best to remember how to do a British accent. It had been over a century since he left his home country, and he was doing his best to forget he came from such a vile place. He hated the British, which was why he moved to Florida and started speaking like a normal person. But the accent wouldn’t fool Jotaro, who had never even heard Dio’s regular voice.
“I’ve seen enough of your nudes to know it’s you, Dio,” said Jotaro coolly, his glacial gaze drilling into Dio’s.
“Ye got the wrong chap, mate,” said Dio, stubbornly keeping up the act. “Ain’t never heard of a lad by tha’ name. I’m 🅱️io, chuffed to meet ya.”
“🅱️io?” said Jotaro, incredulous. “Like B.O.? Body odor? Fucking loser.”
“Jotaro, stop harassing this poor man! He clearly doesn’t know who Dio is,” said Kakyoin, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry 🅱️io, please excuse my bro. I’m Kakyoin, nice to meet you.”
“Oy, a fellow Brit! I may have lost my accent living in America over the years, but I too hail from the lovely country of England. Always a pleasure to meet one of my people,” said Joseph, striding forth to shake hands with Dio. The vampire smiled through the double pain of having to pretend to be British AND be nice to Joseph Joestar.
“The bad vibes are still in this room, though,” said Avdol. “If it’s not 🅱️io, it must be...THERE, on that hammock!” Avdol pointed to Pucci, who was still calmly reading the Bible.
“Must have been a false alarm after all,” conceded Jotaro. “Not an enemy stand user, just a fucking Christian.”
“Sorry to bother you, 🅱️io,” said Kakyoin, and the crusaders went back upstairs.
As soon as they were gone, Dio stormed over to Pucci and snatched his Bible from him.
“How could you?! How could you just sit there and do nothing while I almost got killed?!” he yelled, baring his fangs.
“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. Proverbs 3, verses 5-6,” Pucci calmly recited.
The rest of the cruise went pretty smoothly for both parties. The Joestar gang, Jotaro included, dropped their suspicions about 🅱️io. The real Dio was in Cairo, Kakyoin reminded them, so there was nothing to worry about. Dio and Pucci decided to lay low as well. Revenge against the Joestars could come later, after Dio had gotten his revenge on the evil milf. Think about your priorities, Pucci had reminded him.
The ship parked in the ship parking lot and everyone got out. Kakyoin pulled out Google Maps to find the location of Dio’s McMansion and the Joestar gang was on their way. After a while Avdol got hungry and demanded that they stop at McDonald’s for some McNuggets. There were no objections.
A deep sigh came from the cashier, a well-muscled man with poofy gray hair. “Welcome to McDonald’s, how may I help you?” he mumbled unenthusiastically.
“Two 50 piece Chicken McNuggets please!” Avdol ordered cheerfully.
The genuine happiness in his voice made the cashier’s heart ache. How he longed for a group of friends to share McNuggies with, for once to be served instead of always doing the serving. He punched numbers soullessly at the register. “ E£325.25 ,” he announced quickly, before the quiver in his voice revealed how close he was to tears. As Avdol gave him the money, their hands brushed. It was the only physical contact he’d had in months. Avdol had given him something else besides the money--there was a little piece of paper mixed in with the bills that said “call me ;)” with a phone number. The cashier’s heart leapt, and his face turned as red as the red earrings he was wearing. For the rest of his shift he thought only of Avdol, of that handsome man whisking him away from this capitalist hellhole for a lifetime of adventure and tender bromance.
Before he drove home, he sat in his car staring at the note. To call or not to call? What if it was just a sick prank? He took a deep breath and dialed the number after all, knowing that if he didn’t, he would only keep wondering what could have been.
The phone rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello? This is Avdol.”
Oh, thank the spaghetti monster it was a real number. “Hey, this is Polnareff, the guy you gave your number to.”
“Oh hey!” Avdol replied. “Yeah bro I really liked your hair and earrings today. Totally cool. Thanks for the epic nuggets too ahaha.”
“Oh, thanks. And no prob bro. That’s my job…”
“Well, wanna hang out later? Me and the boys are on a mission right now, but—“
“What kind of mission? Can I help?” Polnareff interrupted eagerly. He didn’t mean to sound so desperate but it slipped out. “I know how to flip burgers and use swords. Please let me come, this minimum wage job is sucking the life out of me.”
“Uhh sure I guess. We’re trying to find the guy that killed my friend’s great great great...damn I forget how many greats it is. His great something grandpa.”
They made plans to meet up at around 3:17 at the mansion where they thought Dio was. Meanwhile, Dio and Pucci were traveling to the same place.
It was the Dio-Pucci duo who would reach the mansion first, since they hadn’t stopped for McDonald’s like the Joestars. They picked the lock on the back door and snuck in, confused to find a lone Japanese man playing saxophone in the middle of the living room. This man was no milf. What was he doing in the milf’s mansion? Dio was about to ask, when suddenly the Joestar gang, led by Jotaro, smashed through the front door.
“Jotaro!” yelled Dio.
“Dio!” yelled the sax man.
“Dad?!” yelled Jotaro.
The three men stared silently at each other, trying to process the situation. Jotaro’s dad wondered how both Dio AND his son had managed to find him here. Dio and Jotaro both wondered why the other came here in the first place, and what Jotaro’s dad was doing there too. Time seemed to move like thick pudding amid the deadlock. Finally, Jotaro broke the silence.
“Is it just me, or does it feel like time’s moving slower?”
“Sorry, that’s just my stand,” said Dio. “I stopped time to try to figure out what the fuck is going on.”
“You have a stand?” said Jotaro. “Wait, 🅱️io, didn’t you have a British accent before? And I swore my Dad just called you… DIO! It IS you, you silly bitch!”
“Fine, you got me. I’m Dio,” said Dio. “The real question is, how did your DAD know I’m Dio?”
“I uhh...uhhh..私は英語が話せません,” said Jotaro’s dad.
“I don’t speak Spanish, what did he say?” said Dio.
“Doesn’t matter, I am going to beat you to death now,” said Jotaro, walking towards Dio menacingly with his stand. Dio summoned his own stand, and rudely stuck his tongue out at Jotaro.
Just then, Polnareff burst through the door. “Bonjour, amigos!”
“Jean-Pierre! I’m so happy to see you!” said Avdol, running right between Jotaro and Dio to hug his boyfriend. Polnareff embraced him tenderly, but stiffened when he saw Dio.
“No...It can’t be..”
“What’s wrong?” asked Avdol.
“That guy,” said Polnareff, pointing to Dio, “was so rude to me during my shift that I quit my job in Florida and moved to Egypt.” His body trembled with anxiety just thinking about that horrible memory.
“Yeah, I know, he’s an asshole,” said Avdol, patting him on the head to calm him down. “But just think baby, if he hadn’t done that, we never would have met.”
“That’s right,” said Dio. He didn’t really understand what was going on, but he was glad someone was finally fucking defending him.
“Good fucking grief, can we just kill this fucker already? I have fucking algebra 2 homework to do,” said Jotaro.
“Someone really ought to wash your mouth out with soap, young man,” Pucci finally spoke up. Everyone turned to look at him, confused.
“It’s that priest from the cruise…What’s he doing here?” said Kakyoin, voicing everyone else’s thoughts.
Dio and Pucci exchanged a look, then Pucci closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His friend was in trouble. There was no way that Dio, even as powerful as he was, would be able to defeat this many foes by himself. This was a job only Pucci could do. Lord, grant me the serenity to handle this situation with grace, he prayed silently. Finally he opened his eyes, and faced the Joestars’ hostile looks with dignity. “My name is Enrico Pucci,” said Enrico Pucci. “I have been living with Dio for some time, and I have come to consider him my, uh... friend... Whatever he has done to you to make you want to beat the shit out of him, you must recognize he, like all of us, are children of God deserving of forgiveness and love. Although we are on different sides, as I am a holy man, I do not wish to fight with any of you. I have been witness to far too much violence in my short life, and it has solved nothing. However, I believe that through compassion and understanding, we can arrive at true solutions. I ask humbly of you to put away your stands and join me in a brief meditation to help us all settle down and enable us to discuss our grievances peacefully. Couches. Now.”
“Ugh, meditation.” That was what everyone wanted to say. But this priest boy was so wholesome, so pure, that nobody could bring themselves to reject him. Reluctantly, they all shuffled toward the circle of couches in the living room and sat down. Polnareff and Avdol sat together on one couch; Joseph, Jotaro, Jotaro’s dad, and Kakyoin squeezed onto another; and Dio sat alone. The vampire bit his lip and stared at the ground, lowkey sad that nobody wanted to sit by him.
Pucci raised his eyebrows at the group of four. “No need to cram, there’s plenty of room on Dio’s couch.”
Joseph, Jotaro, and Kakyoin all turned to look at Jotaro’s dad, who reluctantly got up to join Dio. Finally, Pucci sat down between Avdol and Polnareff to “make room for Jesus.”
“Now then,” said Pucci, “let us all join hands and pray. Dio, if you wouldn’t mind, could you lead us in The Lord’s Prayer?”
Pucci had been teaching Dio several prayers at his request--it was part of his evil scheme to go to heaven. He made an honest effort to learn them, but he was still a bit rusty. “Our Father, who art in the gotdam...how that shit go?”
“Harold be thy name,” Joseph continued for him. “Thy kingdom cum, thy will be dumb, on earth as it is in heaven.”
“Give us this day our daily head, and forgive us our trespasses,” the others joined in, “as we forgive those who have trespassed against us.” Everyone looked at Dio accusingly.
“...And lead us not into Tennessee, but deliver us from evil. Amen,” Dio concluded.
“Amen,” everyone repeated.
“Excellent,” said Pucci. “Now I need everyone to close their eyes. I’m not gonna do anything weird or sensual with you, just trust me. You too, Dio. Seal em up.” After making sure everyone’s eyes were closed, he put on some meditative Gregorian chant dubstep and made them all reflect on their sins.
Chapter 10: Intermission TWO
i added some art i made for DBMH on the first chapter if u wanna check it out!
For a more immersive experience, please listen to this music and meditate with the characters: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qtXrZktlL0
Chapter 11: Chapter 11
“Now, are we ready to handle this situation like civilized adults?”
“Yes, Pucci,” everyone mumbled.
“Good. Now, let’s go around and introduce ourselves. Say your name and why you’re here. I’m Pucci, and I’m here because Dio is my BFF and I’d go anywhere with him.”
“Aww that’s so sweet,” said Dio.
“Lowkey that is kinda sweet,” said Avdol. “I’m Avdol, and I came here to help the Joestars kill Dio, and also for me and Polnareff’s first date.” He pointed at Polnareff and winked.
“Dude why’d you introduce me, I was gonna introduce myself,” Polnareff whined.
“Shut up Polnareff, it’s not your turn to talk,” said Pucci. “We are going counter-clockwise, so it’s the boomer’s turn.”
“I’m Joseph,” said Joseph. “And I’m here to get revenge on Dio for killing my grandfather and making my daughter sick with his bad vibes.”
“He also made my mom spill the box of my favorite cereal,” Jotaro added.
“And what is your name, young man?” asked Pucci.
“Tch. Like I would so easily reveal the secrets of the Joestar family.”
“That’s Jotaro,” said Kakyoin. “I’m Kakyoin, and I’m here because Holly Kujo has tremendous boobies and I want to do everything I can to save them. I mean her.”
“Bro that’s my mom you’re talking about,” said Jotaro.
“That’s my daughter you’re talking about,” said Joseph.
“That’s my WIFE you’re talking about,” said Jotaro’s dad.
Kakyoin shrugged. “What can I say? She’s a milf.”
Milf… That word… It made Dio tense up. Could it be…? Is Jotaro’s mom the milf? Typical Joestars, always fucking things up for me , he thought bitterly. But no, the milf should be here, in Cairo. In this house. But as far as I can tell, there are no females here. Where is she? Where is the milf??? He looked up, scanning the room for any signs of milfery… But did the milf really have to be there? Dio’s two braincells were working hard to figure out the mystery, when he realized the others were staring at him expectantly. Oh right, it was his turn to introduce himself.
“Everybody already knows who I am,” said Dio bitchily. “The reason I have traveled here is to find the duplicitous temptress who stole my identity.”
Jotaro busted out laughing. “LMFAO. You let a WOMAN steal your identity?! What a fucking loser.”
“Ur mom,” said Dio.
“I said, your whore mother is the milf who has been causing me so much trouble,” Dio growled accusingly.
“My mommy is a holy virgin!” Jotaro snapped back, sounding a bit distressed.
“My daughter is currently suffering from a stand attack because of her fragile nature as a woman--a stand that you induced. Your rancid vibes are killing poor, dear, sweet, innocent Holly and you’re saying she’s causing YOU trouble?” said Joseph, brandishing his fists. “That’s low, even for you, Dio. I won’t stand for this baseless attack on my daughter’s purity!”
Okay, now Dio was absolutely positive he was right. “That cunt deserves to die!” he said resolutely. “Not because she’s promiscuous (which she definitely is , but I don’t know why that’s such a bad thing, you guys are just weirdly sexually repressed), BUT BECAUSE SHE STOLE MY FUCKING IDENTITY. Jesus fucking Christ, you’re all so stupid. If I was going to send out bad vibes to the Joestars, don’t you think I would have sent them to all of you? I didn’t even know this Holly bitch existed until 5 minutes ago, and even if I did, why would I target her specifically? You think I hate women? False, I fucking love pussy, and boobies. Another thing, there’s no such thing as a stand attack. Do you simpletons have any clue how stands even work? If someone doesn’t have the capacity for wielding a stand, they’d never develop one in the first place. You’re all so blinded by misogyny and the belief that women are stupid and fragile that you can’t see that the real reason your beloved bitch is suffering is because she’s a conniving hustler that just happened to fuck with the wrong vampire. I sent my raunchiest vibes to whoever it was that swindled me; it’s mere coincidence that she’s your family. I guess it isn’t that hard to believe though, since all you rats have been fucking with me since I came out of the ocean. Holly can go to hell, and so can the rest of you.”
“FATHER PUCCI! He just said so many bad words, aren’t you going to stop him?!” Jotaro cried.
“God’s law says nothing about ‘bad’ words,” said Pucci. “It is only human law which has decreed certain words to be unspeakable. Which if you think about it, is pretty dumb. Like, why is ‘shit’ a bad word but ‘poop’ isn’t? Anyway, Mr. Sailor Mouth, you’re one to talk. Saying ‘fuck’ may not be a sin, but hypocrisy is. So shut it.”
“Quit trying to silence me, you know I’m right,” Dio said, leering at Jotaro. “Speaking of silence, you know who’s been awfully quiet? Holly’s husband. Why don’t you go ahead and explain why you’re here, Mr. Kujo?”
They all turned to look at the only man who had yet to introduce himself. “N-nani?” Mr. Kujo sputtered out nervously.
“Don’t play coy, you sick little man,” said Dio. “We all know you can speak English. You fucked up when Kakyoin said something about your wife’s tits. The way you responded to that told me everything I needed to know. You’re hiding something, and I’m fairly sure I know what it is. But I want to hear it from your own mouth, Mr. Kujo.”
Mr. Kujo was sweating bullets. But was it from guilt or just the result of being in Dio’s fearsome presence? “I-I’m Sadao Kujo, and I’m here because I play the saxophone in a jazz band, and we’re currently on tour in Egypt. And this is my house.”
Dio narrowed his eyes. “Your house that you bought with my money.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” said Kakyoin. “When I tracked Dio’s credit card information, it said that he bought this house, along with a dildo and 67 boxes of Sourpatch Kids cereal. Mr. Kujo...Did you really steal from Dio? And...buy a dildo?”
“No that one was me,” said Dio.
Sadao stared at the floor reflectively. “My wife...She’s the most loving and supportive woman I have ever known. She would do anything to make my dreams come true, and when she found out I wanted to become a jazz musician...Well, I know she didn’t get the money in a very honest way, but...She’s the reason I was able to get where I am today.”
“Dad...Are you saying Mommy’s NOT a holy virgin?” Jotaro said, trembling with shock.
“What he’s saying is he and his bitch wife resorted to e-fraud to fund his useless jazz career,” said Dio. “I heard you playing when I broke in here, you sound like shit. Why don’t you get a real job and like, I don’t know, take care of your son? The kid’s what, 17? and he still doesn’t know basic biology. If you’re not gonna give him ‘the talk’ as his father, I don’t mind--”
“Please don’t,” said everyone.
“Fine, fine. Bunch a Catholics… In any case, that was a pretty clear confession. Now if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I am going to beat this motherfucker to death.”
Chapter 12: Chapter 12
“There will be NO such beating while I am here,” Pucci intervened, grabbing Dio by the spandex bodysuit before he could get in too much pummeling.
“What are you doing, traitor!” hissed Dio, wrenching himself away from Pucci’s grip on his clothes. The fabric snapped back to his skin with a loud smack. “The whole point of this mission was to find out who stole my identity and get revenge! Why are you stopping me now?!”
Pucci closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to keep his calm. “ Because , you fucking moron, I care about you! Look, you’re outnumbered 6 to 1, and your head and body still aren’t really in sync yet. I don’t know what I’d do if you got yourself killed…”
Dio had his arms crossed, not buying it. What happened to all that confidence Pucci had in him on the cruise? “Geez, thanks for believing in me,” he bitched sarcastically.
Pucci sighed, biting his lip nervously. “Well, I guess now’s as good a time as ever to say this… Dio, the reason I’m so worried about you, about losing you… It’s because I--I’m in love with you.”
“Get in line.”
“Seriously! I tried to ignore my feelings, but I can’t help it. I love you even more than I love Jesus. Please be my boyfriend.”
“Pucci.” Dio looked him in the eyes, a serious frown on his face. “You are 15. I am 123. This is not appropriate.”
“I know, but--”
“I know I’m irresistible and all, but you’ve got to stop this. Are you not satisfied being my best friend? In any case, I’m saddened to hear that I’ve caused you to stray from the path God intended for you. I would never want to get in the way of that, since I know being a priest brings you great happiness. Trust me, Pooch, this isn’t what you want. I know you don’t want my chlamydia.”
Yeah, that was enough of a turn-off.
An awkward silence befell the room, until Joseph broke it with an insensitive comment: “Man, what the fuck was that?”
“It’s friendship, Jojo,” said Avdol, wiping a tear away. “So beautiful. I didn’t realize what they had was so special.”
“Yes...Friendship,” said Dio, pondering what it meant to him, and how important it had become. He once had a weird dream that making a friend would help him get to heaven, and it looked like that dream was lowkey coming true. Friendship was what got him where he was today. Without Pucci’s support, Dio would still be back in the Florida McDonald’s, held hostage for being unable to pay for his burger. And he presumed it was much the same for the others. Even the despicable Sadao Kujo had a friend who supported him.
Dio now saw that true power and happiness came not from money, sex, and killing everybody, but from meaningful relationships with others. A wicked grin spread across his face as he thought of his evilest plan yet. “Say, Sadao, how about you and I become friends?”
“Me and you? Uh, sure I guess.”
“You can’t be friends with my dad! You’re trying to kill my mom!” Jotaro protested.
“I will make her my friend too,” said Dio.
Dio’s evil plan… was to befriend the Joestars. The strength of their bonds would give him unprecedented power. And after that? He’d make friends with everyone in the world. He’d be unstoppable.
“You’re sick,” said Jotaro.
“No, my dear grandson,” Joseph butted in. “Think about what Jonathan would have wanted. Grandma Erina used to say that even when Dio burned his dog, kissed his girlfriend, poisoned his dad, and chopped his head off at his own honeymoon, Jonathan never stopped trying to be friends with him. He would want the same for us, his descendants. Dio’s just stupid as hell so it took him a hundred years to figure out that friendship is cool.”
“Only a true friend would be that honest,” said Dio. “Yo Sadao, homedog, since we’re buddies now, will you give me back my identity and all the money you stole from me?”
Dio smirked. Being friends with people really was great. They were just nice to you for no reason! “And the house? You’ll give me the house right? Because you used my money on that too.”
“But I need somewhere to live while I’m on tour--”
“And you’ll have to pay for emotional damages as well. I think a billion dollars should cover it. I used to be a lawyer so I know. And trust me, you should just give me what I want because if we settled this in a court of law you’d be in jail and your jazz career would be even deader than it already is. I’m only saying this because we’re friends and I wouldn’t want you to go to jail. But seriously, I’m gonna need you to pay up--hey, what’s that smell?”
“God Joseph, not again,” said Kakyoin, holding his nose.
“I didn’t fart!” the old man protested.
“It’s not fart smell,” said Dio. “It smells...like Sourpatch Kids Cereal.”
“Where?” said Jotaro.
“In the kitchen.” Dio led the way there, following the scent like a cartoon character when they smell something delicious. He opened the pantry, and more boxes of Sourpatch Kids Cereal than he’d ever seen before spilled out around him. “Damn Sadao, I didn’t realize you liked Sourpatch Kids Cereal too.”
“It’s my favorite cereal,” he said.
“It’s my favorite cereal too,” said Jotaro.
“It makes me gassy, but I quite like it as well,” said Joseph.
“It’s the cereal of gamers, how could I not love it?” said Kakyoin.
“I dunno, I prefer Frosted Flakes--”
“No you don’t Polnareff, stop trying to be different,” said Avdol.
“Wow.. I didn’t realize we had so much in common,” said Dio. “You know what? Forget about paying me back. Just give me all this Sourpatch Kids Cereal and I’ll be happy. And because we’re all friends now--”
“I never said I was your friend,” said Jotaro.
“You have no choice. Anyway, because we’re all friends now, I think I will share it. Grab a bowl, everyone~”
Pucci said grace, then they all dug in. There was just enough cereal for the each of the eight meaty men to have their fill. As Dio watched everyone just vibing and having a good time, he smiled; making people happy was actually kind of epic. Maybe, just maybe, the MILF he had been hunting for all this time was the Magic In Loving one’s Friends.