[ Even considering the sort of "vespas" Alberto made, he is indeed very talented regardless, to have made them from scratch with no reference or prior knowledge of anything he was using to build them... It's a miracle and testament to his and Luca's wits that those makeshift machines moved at all.

He waves his hand loosely as he speaks, gesturing as he feigns more capability than he's truly, uh, capable of... But he knows how to sell shit well, at least — at least to other children. ]

Thanks, I know. They gave us a trophy and everything. It was a traditional Italian triathlon — swimming, bicycling, and eating pasta. I ate the pasta. [ He didn't. ] And bicycled — sort of. I helped. [ He also didn't. ]

[ Technically, Alberto himself never actually participated in the race, and won by association of being there and causing a sensation, but y'know, that's half the battle, right? ]