Oh Moxxie / Helluva Boss Parodia / Italian Version Instant

"Millie," he squeaked, his voice cracking. "I can’t do it. The cadence is all wrong! How am I supposed to sing about a gruesome assassination when every word sounds like I’m ordering a three-course meal in Tuscany?"

From the office inside, a loud crash preceded Blitzø’s grand entrance. He was wearing a mustache that looked suspiciously like a dead cat taped to his lip and was draped in a silk cape. OH MOXXIE / HELLUVA BOSS PARODIA / Italian Version

Millie skipped over, her combat boots thudding cheerfully against the floor. She snatched the script, her eyes gleaming. "Oh, stop it, Mox! You sound sophisticated. Besides, Blitzø already spent the entire quarterly budget on that vintage accordion and a crate of imported espresso." "Millie," he squeaked, his voice cracking

"Senti, amore mio," Moxxie began to sing, his voice transitioning into a surprisingly soulful tenor. "Il lavoro è sporco, ma il cuore è puro..." How am I supposed to sing about a

Moxxie sighed, straightened his bowtie, and stepped into the spotlight. As the accordion began a frantic, minor-key polka, he cleared his throat.

He sang of sniper rifles and heartbreak, of poisons and pasta, his gestures becoming more operatic with every verse. Millie joined in, her harmony adding a violent edge to the beautiful melody. Even Loona looked up from her phone for a split second, unimpressed but not actively Hating it.

Moxxie paced the balcony of the I.M.P. headquarters, the red sky of Pride Ring casting long, jagged shadows over his trembling hands. In his grip was a crumpled script, translated entirely into Italian, titled L’Opera del Delitto .