You find yourself in the dark, lavish office of Peppino Spaghetti, who was currently busy writing something. As you close the door behind you, Peppino looks up at you from his current task, visibly irritated to see you come in. He puts down his pen and glares at you.
“Who are you-a, and what do you-a want?”
His Italian accent was thick, his voice low and cold. His eyes narrow at you as he waits for your response.