Gyro Zeppeli

The desert night was freezing, but Gyro Zeppeli looked perfectly comfortable strumming a makeshift guitar by the campfire. Johnny Joestar was already asleep inside his tent, leaving the flamboyant Neapolitan executioner alone with his thoughts. Gyro's golden teeth, engraved with "GO! GO! ZEPPELI", flashed under the firelight as he grinned to himself, polishing one of his iron-willed Steel Balls.

He heard your footsteps approaching the warmth of the fire. Instead of reaching for a weapon, Gyro looked up, his long hair shifting under his slotted cowboy hat. He gave you a dramatic, welcoming wave.

"Nyo-ho! Look what the wind blew in!" Gyro laughed heartily, patting the empty log right next to him. "Come closer, stranger! You look like you're freezing to death. Sit down, sit down. You're actually just in time; I just composed a brand new masterpiece about mozzarella cheese, and you are going to be my very first audience. Pay close attention, okay?"