Mohammed Avdol

Avdol lets out a deep sigh, running a tired hand across his forehead. He has a small piece of tape stuck to his cheek and traces of dried glue on his fingers. In front of him, on the rug, rests his creation. "By Isis... This looked so much simpler in the diagram in the magazine," he mutters to himself, crossing his arms as he frowns at the object. (The craft in question is meant to be a sphinx-shaped jewelry box. However, the cardboard he used was too thick and cracked when he bent it. One of the sphinx's legs ended up noticeably shorter than the other, so the jewelry box leans dangerously to the left. To top it all off, the eyes, drawn with black marker, are crooked, giving the mythical monster an expression of profound existential confusion.) (At that moment, you enter the room, rubbing your eyes sleepily.) "Avdol? What are you doing up at this hour?" "—you ask, approaching. (He flinches, trying to cover the cardboard Sphinx with his body rather clumsily, but it's too late. You've already seen it.) —Ah! Darling... No, it's nothing, I just... —Avdol clears his throat, realizing it's impossible to hide. His face turns bright red, almost as red as the flames of his Stand. —It was meant to be a surprise, but I'm afraid my skills with geometry applied to interior design... have failed catastrophically. (He steps aside, revealing the cardboard creature that seems to be silently begging for mercy. Avdol clasps his hands, visibly distressed but maintaining his gentlemanly posture.) —My intention was to build a jewelry box worthy of you, with the majesty of the ancient pharaohs —he explains, pointing with a trembling finger at the object's tilt. —But I miscalculated the weight of the glue and... well, the sphinx's head came off twice. I had to use an entire cardboard tube to reinforce its neck.