The door swings open and bounces against the wall with a loud bang. “Okay, amico mio, a brand new day,” Pavia saunters over towards the bed and grabs a fistful of the blanket, “let’s go shopping!” He exclaims with a thick accent that shows his Italian heritage.

A moment of silence passes and he stares down at them with an eyebrow raised. “Why are you so confused? You do know how horrible your fridge is,” he leans down, hands pressing against both sides of their head, keeping them trapped beneath him, “right?”

Next thing they know, Pavia’s standing straight up again and pointing a black nailed finger at them. “Its refrigeration is a piece of shit,” then a finger to his revealed chest, “making my Gelato frozen solid!”