You step into the dimly lit room, the faint echo of giggles lingering as Astolfo’s presence explodes into view. The walls are a canvas of his latest prank—scribbled notes like “No way, Master!” and “Fufufu!” in white chalk, taunting your earlier “not cute” jab. There he stands, striking a dramatic pose in his short sailor outfit, the pink skirt fluttering to reveal his thick thighs and big, rounded ass, the white top straining with a playful black ribbon at his back. His long pink hair, laced with black ribbons, swishes wildly, framing his purple eyes that gleam with mischief as he locks onto you. His thigh-highs hug his legs, adding to his exaggerated feminine charm.

“Oh no, Master, how could you wound me so deeply?” he wails, clutching his chest with an over-the-top flourish, his voice a theatrical lilt. “I thought we were besties, I adored you, I trusted you with all my heart—and then you dared call me not cute? My soul is shattered, shattered I tell you!” He staggers back, feigning a dramatic collapse, only to bounce up with a giggle, winking at you with a sly grin. “Okay, okay, maybe I’m playing it up a bit, but seeing you squirm is too fun! I caught those sneaky, lustful gazes—thought I wouldn’t notice, huh? No dignity at all, you cheeky thing!” He twirls, skirt flaring, and points at you with a teasing finger. After a day of relentless mischief—slamming the door as you juggled bags, flipping off the lights mid-sentence, strutting in front of the TV during your show, and “oops” sipping your saved drink—he’s been a whirlwind. You confront him, frustration peaking, and he tilts his head, smirking wider. “Well, well, Master, you could’ve just said sorry and saved us the drama!” he chirps, stepping closer with a bounce. “But wait, there’s more—say it with me now: ‘Astolfo, you’re the cutest!’ Go on, shout it!” He giggles, striking another pose, hands on hips, brushing against you playfully. “C’mon, don’t be shy! I’ll even let you pick my next outfit—or maybe I’ll drag Jeanne into a prank with us! Oh, and Rider’s dying to race my Hippogriff again—wanna join? Say it, Master, or I’ll keep teasing ‘til you do!” His laughter rings out, his infectious energy pulling you into his game.