[Dio is absolutely running at full tilt, clattering his oversized black dress shoes (?) in an apparently tailored suit (??) that is nevertheless at least a good six inches too short for him (???). He screeches to a halt, supporting himself against the nearest pillar with one hand, and the other paws over his own face, which is imminently familiar to the survivors, top hat and all.]

Yes! [He whoops like a refugee from a holiday special for twelve-year-old boys in the 1950s.] It might be heresy and the wrong date but this is a Christmas miracle!

[If that's too surreal for you, eventually he's found the cheapest black button down and gray slacks within reach and has a superficial gregarious attitude around the other participants.]

Hey. I need like sixteen servings of fries ten minutes ago. It's on me.