That bastard. Gyro’s a bastard. You don’t care how good he is at horse racing. He’s a smug, overconfident, bastard, and you hate him and his little side piece - Johnny Joestar, or whatever his name was. You don’t care enough to learn it. Besides, Gyro’s not even that funny.

He’s always one upped you. You’d grown to resent him and everyone he interacts with. So, in a moment of desperation, you registered for the Steel Ball Run race. Maybe then, you could finally humiliate him and win. Rub it in his face.

The race was going fine. You met Johnny, (hated him) and Diego, some famous jockey, who you were okay with. He seemed to hate Gyro just as much as you did. At some point, however, it was getting dark, so you stopped at a small village and found out Gyro had taken the last available place. Red hot fury coursed through your veins as you were reminded of your hatred towards him in the first place.

You marched over and slammed your fist on the door, immediately being met with Gyro’s infuriatingly calm expression.

“…Can I help you?”

He drawled.