Sir Ozzy of Osbourne

Trish approached her father, Diavolo, who was eating at the dining table.

“Hey, dad, can we get a dog? Or a cat? Or maybe even a bunny?” she asked, giving him puppy eyes.

“Did you ask your mother?” he asked.

“No, she’s at work. Call her.”

Diavolo sighed, got up, and went to the phone in the kitchen, dialing Donatella’s cell. Trish was next to him to hear the conversation.

“Hey, babe, is something wrong?” she asked.

“Trish wants a pet. What do you think?”

“I’m not sure why she wants a pet suddenly, but I don’t see the harm. I make enough money, anyways.”

“Very well. I guess I’m off to get Trish a pet. I love you.” He blew a kiss.

“I love you too! Bye!”

She hung up, and Diavolo returned to the table to eat.

“Shouldn’t we be going?” Trish asked.

“Let me eat first.”

She waited, and when he finished, he walked over to the living, sat on the couch, and watched TV, flipping over the channels.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Watching TV.”

“You’re not even watching anything! Aren’t we supposed to go to the pet shop?” She crossed her arms and pouted.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that.”

“But we got to go now!”

“And why do we?”

“Because I said so!” Trish sounded whiny. “You’re not even doing anything.”

“Why are you in a rush?”

“If we don’t go, I’ll get mom to divorce you.”

Diavolo quickly turned his head to face her. “Where did you learn that word?”

“From one of the older kids. Can we go now?”

He sighed. “Fine. Let me get dressed and brush my teeth.”

-

Diavolo and Trish were at the pet shop, and Trish looked at the falcon with a red scarf and brown feathers. Diavolo didn’t like its stare. It seemed too angry and menacing, but at least it was in its cage.

“Please don’t tell me you want this one,” Diavolo asked, looking at his child.

“Can it poke someone’s eyes out?” Trish asked.

“What kind of question is that? Maybe? If it does, I’m not going to get that.”

They moved on and looked at the reptiles. A turtle caught Diavolo’s attention.

“I always wanted a pet turtle. Hey, Trish, do you want this one?” He pointed to the one named Coco Jumbo.

“I like its name, but no.”

A shame. Diavolo liked that one, but the two moved on to the dog and cat section of the store. For a few minutes, Trish looked like she wanted a cat, judging by how long she stared at them. She looked at the Siberian cat and then the blue-gray British shorthair cat.

“Should I get something cute or something scary?” Trish asked.

“Huh?”

“Giorno says repeating the same thing is useless.”

“Why would you get something scary?”

“Because I want to go to the park.”

“Trish, if you want to go to the park, I must accompany you. You’re not old enough to be by yourself. What is this about?”

“Um.” She blushed. “A guy.”

“A boy?” Trish was only five. Were girls age interested in boys? “Trish, don’t buy things or pets to impress someone.”

“I don’t want to impress him. I want a dog!” Trish whined again, pouting and crossing her arms this time.

He sighed. “Taking care of a dog is a big responsibility. Will you take your dog out and pick up its poop? Are you sure you can handle pets?”

“Yeah, I—” A dog’s constant barking distracted Trish. It was the dog by the window, and she walked toward it. The dog was a chihuahua with blond fur and a white underbelly, and its name was Ozzy. “I want him. I want Ozzy.”

Diavolo looked at the dog, and it turned around and growled at him. “Are you sure? It seems aggressive.”

“Hey! He’s not an ‘it’! He’s Ozzy of Osbourne.”

“Of Osbourne?”

“Yes, Sir Ozzy of Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness.”

“Wow, you want this dog, don’t you?”

“Yeah, can we get him? Pwease?”

“Alright, fine.”

“Wait, we need to get him things first!”

“Yeah, I’ll get to that, sweetie.”

“I’m buying the collar!”

Trish ran to look at the dog collars meant for small dogs. She debated whether she wanted the pink bow collar or the spikey one. Eventually, she settled for the spikey one, and Diavolo bought a food bowl and some food for Ozzy.

-

Diavolo, Trish, and Ozzy went home for lunch shortly after. Then they headed to the park, and Diavolo noticed a sinister smile on his daughter’s face when she spotted her friends.

“Hi, Giorno, Mista, Narancia! Hello, Fugo.”

“Hi,” all of the kids said except Fugo. Diavolo tried to figure out which boy Trish liked.

“What are you doing here?” inquired the golden blond boy with fancy clothes. Diavolo thought his question sounded too aggressive.

“I want to be with my friends,” she answered.

“You don’t have any friends here except for your stupid mutt.”

Ozzy growled at him.

“Fugo, that wasn’t nice,” Giorno said. “Besides, I told her we’d be here, and she’s my friend.”

“I told you it’s just me, Narancia, and Mista! I never asked for you to be with us!”

“Yeah!” Narancia added.

“I thought you wanted to hang out with me.” Giorno frowned but didn’t cry.

“Well, I was testing you to see if you were worthy of being my friend. You failed,” Fugo replied.

“Yeah!” Narancia added.

“Shut up!” Fugo slapped the purple-eyed boy in the cheeks, causing a tear to run down his face. “You don’t have to reply to everything I say.”

“Uh, I’m—” Fugo raised a hand, and Narancia was immediately silent.

Diavolo couldn’t believe Trish would want to hang out with such rowdy kids. Now he can see why she brought the dog. Though, he wished he had gotten a pit bull instead.

“Go home, Trish!” He shoved her to the ground. “You too, Trish’s dad!”

Diavolo furrowed his brows and clenched his fists. “Is that any way to—”

Ozzy barked aggressively. Noticing this, Trish let go of the leash, and the dog pounced on Fugo, biting and tearing his hair and causing the boy to scream and cry.

“Trish! Narancia, Mista, help!” Fugo kicked Ozzy, causing the dog to scurry and whimper to Diavolo’s side.

Trish and Diavolo got angry, but Trish was the first to act and attacked Fugo, throwing punches.

“Trish, stop!” her dad demanded. “This is not how I raised you!”

Narancia and Mista cheered for Trish while Giorno silently stood and watched. Eventually, Fugo’s parents showed up while Diavolo pulled Trish away from the boy, who still cried.

“What is going on?” asked a brunette man with a mustache.

“Excuse me, sir, is this your daughter?” a blond woman with a low bun and glasses questioned Diavolo. “Did you raise her to act like this? What kind of father are you?”

“No, you tell me. Your son may wear nice clothes but acts like a thug, thinking he owns the park. He even hit a boy and shoved my daughter to the ground.”

“Y-yeah,” hesitated Narancia.

“You little…” Fugo glared at the purple-eyed boy before running away, crying.

“That guy needs to realize he can’t run from everything,” Mista commented.

Fugo’s parents were speechless and ran after their child.

“Narancia, Trish, are you alright?” Giorno asked. “Is your dog injured?”

“I’m fine,” she answered. “And I think Ozzy is fine too.”

The dog barked, causing the group to smile.

“I’m alright, I guess. I’m a little sad, but I feel bad for Fugo. He’s not that bad. His parents just suck,” Narancia said.

“Yeah, I should go check on him too,” Giorno said. “Let’s go together. Wait, but first, can I pet your dog?”

“I think he’d like that,” Trish answered.

Giorno petted the dog, and Ozzy licked his hands, causing the boy to giggle. “I like him. My dad is thinking about getting that falcon in the pet shop. Maybe our pets could hang out one day. Bye!”

“I thought about getting the falcon. You better get it before someone takes it. Bye!” Trish waved.

The children left, leaving Trish, Diavolo, and Ozzy by themselves.

“Is Giorno the boy you like?” Diavolo asked.

“Huh?”

“Giorno says repeating the same thing is useless,” he repeated what she had told him in the pet shop.

“Hey!”

“Come on. I think Ozzy had enough excitement today. Let’s go home.”

“Okay, wait, dad—” Too late. Diavolo stepped on Ozzy’s poop and died a little on the inside. “I was going to clean that up, but you stepped on it. It’s your mess now.”