Disclaimer: All characters belong to Terrance Zdunich and Darren Smith. Go Repo! 8D

Author's Note: I began writing this in the summer of '09, roughly after the 'Zoo' fan fiction. So, it's a bit different from my current flair or so I assume. I can't apologize for Luigi's offensive language. If I did, he would shank me. D8 Annnd… WELCOME TO THE LONG-AWAITED SEQUEL.

It was just another day in the Largo household. It was mid-July with the sun shining high in the sky. Although the sun shone, it was still morning. The heat was dreadful, however. Everyone resided inside where it was cool. The central air clicked, roaring like a menacing dinosaur. Besides, we all know that dinosaurs are badass except when they take the form of an air conditioner.

Pavi Largo was bored. Very bored. Amber was boring. She was on a Zydrate binge as usual. He had no clue where Luigi was. That left his father to bother. Pavi sat in the chair next to Rotti's massive desk. Now, let Shovel side track for a moment. Why do business CEOs have huge desks? Well, to make for their small… Ahem. You should catch Shovel's drift. Paviche smiled pleasantly, adjusting his hair in the mirror.

"Papa."

"…" Rotti shifted his paperwork. Things were in dire need of settlement.

Pavi cleared his throat. Rotti did his best to ignore him. The youngest son was indeed an attention whore. It was the sad truth. Don't pay attention to him and he'll go away… The head of GeneCo thought to himself.

"Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa-"

"YOU'RE THIRTY YEARS OLD WITH THE MENTALITY OF A FIVE YEAR OLD."

So that's where Luigi received his short temper from.

"Sorry Papa." Rotti merely shook his head in irritancy, lifting the pen to scribble out his signature in approval. My children are annoyances. Clowns. Screw-ups. Their mothers are to blame. Five minutes later, Pavi was at it again.

"Papa…"

"What Paviche?" Tension rose in his voice. How was he to attend to his business with his son constantly blabbing away? He rubbed his temples before looking back to his youngest son. Rotti sighed heavily. Couldn't he just go and annoy his siblings? It's not like they had anything to do

The raven-haired male flashed a broad grin worthy of modeling. "Nothing," he giggled like a small child.

The situation repeated for a few more times before Rotti completely snapped, "GET OUT!" His voice was eerily similar to the demon in the Amityville Horror.

"Aw…" Pavi slowly slunk towards the door. He purred out his words upon pivoting on heel, "Can I-a have some-a money?"

So that's what he wanted. "How much?" Rotti muttered in aggravation.

"One-a thousand?"

"For what, Son?" Don't say penis enlargement. Don't say penis enlargement.

"The-a zoo?"

Rotti's face lit up as he pumped a fist, unlike his normally stoic behavior. He jumped out of his seat with newly found enthusiasm, "I'm coming!" He remembered when his sons had went to the zoo the previous time. Oh, how he wished that he could have went! Rotti furiously scribbled out the check, handing it over to Pavi.

Pavi took the check in victory, "Oh. Did the Pavi say the-a zoo? I-a meant the-a hair salon." He didn't need his father tagging along with him. That was just wrong and weird in too many ways. After all, Rotti was… How old, exactly? Probably as old as the stone age.

"Oh…" His father cleared his throat, sitting back down. Disappointment flickered throughout his face. He shuffled his papers, "I see. Well, enjoy your… hair salon visit."

"Gratzi! Te amo, Papa!" With something like a jump, Pavi bolted out of the room.

Rotti rolled his eyes at the Italian, though he pouted.

"I wanted to go to the zoo…"

"LUIGI! FRATELLO!" Pavi shouted at the top of his lungs. Where was Luigi anyway?

"What the fuck is it!?" Right on schedule. His voice barked out the demand upon slamming open a door. A beloved knife of his had been coated with a layer of blood. He held a cup of coffee in his other hand, "Took forever to get the right flavor."

"You-a drink flavored coffee?"

"…Shut up. Now what do you want?"

"Do you-a want to-a go to the-a beach with-a the Pavi, Fratello?"

"I guess. I mean… I was going to go slaughter a few cats, but- Why are you asking me? Are you planning something?" Suspicion rose in Luigi as he glared at his brother.

"No-a reason. I'm-a bored and-a…." He held up the check, wiggling his brows.

"Awesome! Did you sleep with Dad to get that?"

"Ew-a! No! Let's ask-a sister-"

Amber burst out of her room, "No! I don't want to go to the fucking beach, you fracking idiots."

"Fine. Be that fracking way!"

"Besides, I burn easily," she slunk back into her unusually dark and sketchy room. Who knew what went on in there. Pavi simply rolled his cerulean eyes, "She-a means her-a skin will-a melt off." Luigi snickered.

"IT WILL NOT. YOU. YOU… MOTHER FUCKING SNAKES."

"Say-a what?"

"She watched Snakes On A Plane while she was high last night."

"Oh-a." It made sense.

"Sooo…"

"…" Pavi was busy checking himself out in the mirror.

"Pavi!" Paviche giggled, tucking away the mirror in order to assure that it was out of his brother's line of sight. Luigi shook his head, snatching it before Pavi could do so. He shoved it into a dresser drawer "C'mon, Faggo." They walked together at a leisurely pace to the limousine. The driver nervously plucked at his shirt collar. It was them. He had driven them both the the zoo and back, trying to determine their exact relationship.

"Oh… Lordy."

They entered the limo. With a deep breath of air, the driver pounded his fist into his hand. That's it. They're gay lovers.

"Get a fucking move on."

"Sorry, Sir."

"You fucking better be."

After a few minutes, Luigi developed a sudden realization… "Hey Pavi."

"Si, Luigi?"

"…I don't have a swim suit." He fidgeted uncomfortably, voice hushed.

"Say-a what."

"I DON'T HAVE A BLEEPING SWIMSUIT."

"We'll-a go-a get you-a one, then! We'll-a buy other stuff-a, too!"