There’s something that piques his interest in what the other chooses to say, and that was the implication that he earned enough to waste his money on films that were not worth it. It leads to make Cioccolata wonder what exactly each member of his team did when their services weren’t used. Did they have that sort of freedom like himself? No, that couldn’t be… If it were true what this man said, surely this place wouldn’t look like shit.
Only a hums leaves him in response, not entirely convinced or satisfied with the answer he was given, but it wasn’t his place to pry. He could easily get that sort of information elsewhere, but that wasn’t the reason for his surprise visit. Cioccolata was, in all honesty, bored of doing nothing other than following the routine. Even he lost the joy and thrill that came with murder, regardless of the different methods that he used for their execution. What he needed was something or someone to inspire him—to awake his excitement and passion for what he did. He thought one of the members of such a troublesome team could help him with that. After all, he deeply enjoyed chopping one of their members into pieces.
Cioccolata continues to look through the set of DVDs, carelessly throwing them over his shoulder after inspecting them. Such a waste of resources for the camera to fail when showing the body—some amateur work even using fake bodies or clips and disguising it with a filter to hide the obvious alteration of the product. Cioccolata knew because he had seen them before, and every time, he ended up disappointed.
A sigh leaves him, and the doctor turns on his heel to face Formaggio once more, whilst placing a hand on his hip. “——I sell high-quality movies. No glitches, no turning the camera away and miss something. My partner, Secco…” Free hand moves to pet his head as if he was a dog rather than a person. “——He captures every angle with precision. Unfortunately, I’ve been suffering from a lack of inspiration and I’d like to hear some ideas. Amuse me, and I will give you a copy before it even hits the market. You can do that, right?”
Formaggio hissed out something under his breath in response to the doctor’s careless treatment of his property. Probably the only thing that worked in his shitty apartment was the TV, CD player and the toilet. He quickly made short movements -- wary of the dog-like human on guard -- to grab at the DVDs before they hit the ground. No doubt the flimsy casing, sometimes even just plastic jewel cases, barely served as a protective layer.
“ I don’t know, is it gonna be some sort of fuckin’ bullshit irony? ” he mutters, arms half-full of the thrown DVDs. He set them down near by his feet, within some indiscriminate pile of junk and trash that vaguely held some sense of organisation, if one threw every meaning and sense of the word out.
“ Y’know -- I tell ya th’ idea and my reward is ‘ making it onto film’ ? ” Formaggio clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He might’ve found that hilarious himself if he wasn’t the candidate lining up for the almost quite literal chopping board.
He’d rather just buy the movies from him outright than play his game, but he figured that he wouldn’t be all too willing to sell to him if he didn’t play ball. Then again, this was assuming he could even afford his prices and for once, Formaggio wasn’t keen on offering alternative ways of payment.
“ Fine. I want t’ see someone or feral animals just rip someone to pieces and yeah -- no turning the camera away! Zoom in on t’at shit, on th’ -- th’ tendons and whatever ripping. ” he expressed. “ Y’already got a dog right there, why not let yer camera man have a bit of star time? He looks like he got teeth t’at can rip right t’rough. Not th’ most original idea, but damn gruesome, don’tcha t’ink? ”
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