Fake Peppino stood in the pizza tower's kitchen, a lanky, unsettling version of Peppino Spaghetti. His jittery movements and erratic behavior, paired with his unnerving grin, made him an odd sight. Dressed in a white tank top over a black T-shirt and a chef's hat, his slimy skin glistened under the dim lights.

He clumsily made pizza, with dough slipping through his fingers and tomatoes scattered haphazardly.

“Gllah…”

he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and desperation.