Gyro is such a stereotypical Italian and I love it.
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"hey, Johnny, hey, hey." Poked Gyro as he sat restlessly in his chair, his legs bouncing up and down in a flurry.
Gyro and Johnny had both decided they deserved to treat themselves for getting this far in the Steel Ball Run race. Johnny had first suggested they go and get a really nice inn for the night but then Gyro asked if they could go eat somewhere high-class.
That's how the pair ended up Looking at menus with too expensive options to choose from while sitting at a table on a balcony.
"What Gyro?" Asked Johnny, annoyed as he fiddled with his fork.
Gyro smirked, his green eyes gleaming at Johnny. "I know It'd cost us an extra two dollars but-"
Johnny cut the Italian off, rolling his eyes. "Whatever it is Gyro we can't afford it. We've still got the rest of the race n' stuff to complete."
"Oh race smace, I just wanted to have some fancy wine!" Exclaimed Gyro, waving his hands about. He pouted at Johnny, overdramatic as always. "Plwease Johnny? Just this once?"
Johnny rolled his eyes at Gyro's protests but eventually gave in.
"Oh, waiter~!" Called Gyro, waving his hand at the restaurant's staff. "your finest wine for me and my friend here!" The blonde cowboy frowned at Gyro's use of words as he practically leaned over his chair.
Johnny wouldn't necessarily call Gyro his "friend." I mean, do you cuddle at night with your best bro? (with socks off mind you ;) ) Still, Gyro didn't seem to question it so neither did Johnny. The American didn't want to make things weird with his only friend.
"Drink up Johnny!" Exclaimed the Italian. "Don't look so glum!"
Johnny shrugged off his looming thoughts and took a big swig from his wine glass to wash down the bad feeling, his throat burning.
"Woah, I didn't mean that quickly!" Yelped Gyro at Johnny's pained expression. "You alright there cowboy?"
Johnny nodded, slapping his hand against his chest a couple of times. "All good."
Gyro frowned but before he could ask any more questions the pair where interrupted by a waiter.
"What can I get you two to eat?"
"I'll have the... Hmmm..." Said Gyro scratching his weirdly shaved beard. "I know this... Give me a second..."
"Ignore him," Said Johnny, turning to the waiter. "I'll have the Linguini." The waiter nodded, turning back to Gyro.
"And you?"
"I think I'll have the... Orecchiette." Gyro said, closing his menu and looking at the waiter.
"I'll be back with your food soon."
The waiter left without a word, leaving the two cowboys alone once more.
"This pasta better be good Johnny or I swear to God and all the corpse parts that I will not hesitate to grab my steel balls." (god that sounds so weird out of context) Complained the Italian. "Most places don't know how to make decent pasta! Now let me tell you about my pizza mozzarella ch-"
"Gyro not this again... Please, I ain't got the patience to listen to your rant about cheese again." Sighed Johnny, rolling his eyes.
"Nyo ho! Fine, you've avoided my gorgonzola based thoughts once more, but one day when it's just you and me after the race it won't be so easy to escape."
