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“There’s something for everybody, huh.”
“Exactly. They didn’t have porn back in those days, so if they wanted to rub one out, they would go for a walk in the gardens.”
I looked at him.
He managed to keep a straight face as he stared ahead.
“So you’re saying the Boboli Gardens is the medieval equivalent of Pornhub?” I asked.
“EXACTLY,” Giorgio said. “Great artandgreat porn.”
57
Giorgio
Fuckin’ Niccolo.
Maybe heloved the Boboli Gardens because he knew so much, but I didn’t know shit about history or art. To me, the place was just a bunch of pretty bushes and old statues. And not any statues I recognized, either.
But I didn’t want to look like an idiot, so I winged it.
Luckily, Emilia seemed to really be enjoying my fakesecchioneart expert tour.
We came to a statue of a naked man with a cloak wrapped around his arm in front of him, a knife in his other hand poised to strike.
I immediately had a flashback to Don Rosolini practicing knife fighting with Lars in the mansion’s basement. The statue was incredibly similar to everything I had witnessed.
…minus the nudity, of course.
“What’s this one about?” Emilia asked, egging me on.
I didn’t say what itreallyreminded me of.
Instead, I answered, “Naked guy guarding his asshole.”
“What?!”
“He saw that other statue of the guy getting a proctology exam and decided he didn’t wantnoneo’ that.”
Emilia howled with laughter as I took her hand and led her on.
We reached a beautiful garden with flowers and roses in the center. In the distance were amazing views.
But there was also a fountain with three stone monkeys at the base – and one of them was spitting a steady stream of water into the basin.
“Okay, we’re officially in the weird part of the Boboli Gardens,” I announced.
Emilia laughed. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s a spitting monkey,” I said, like it was self-evident.
“So?!”
“So if the Boboli Gardens are the medieval equivalent of Pornhub, then this is the Pervert Fountain.”
“What?!”
“Spitting monkeys are some freaky shit. Are you into spitting monkeys?”
