A mere 11 days ago, a terribly ugly man approached him, just as Rudy was trying to drink some water from a street corner fountain. The man did not speak, but handed over what seemed to be a keyring with a whole bunch of keys of warehouse and lockers.
As the man quickly walked off, Rudy cursed at the fountain as it had ruined his shirt and did not quench his thirst. At all. 

The reasons Rudy thought it may be keys to warehouses were pretty solid: All keys had labels on them, although for most the exact addresses were missing.
The first key he inspected had an Amaranth Red label, reading 'AB, OCD, PH'.  The ocher (was that a word? hell, he named it that way anyway; the ocher) key next to it labelled 'IT IS A WORD, also in Las Vegas'. Then there was with a green label saying 'Warehouse of both Alberto's' on a rusty key, but no clue on the location. Then there was a bloodstained one marked with an X only and a very simple, sober key with a rubber band and a small card saying Ibi Al Bronxi.

It looked like Rudy would have to do a background check on his origins first, find out where his ancestors worked, how they operated and how they earned an honest living.

Thankfully, he once received a whole pile of articles, diaries, pictures of three-legged donkeys from a well.. how should he remember her.. a person best described as a semi-slutty, yet scary lady that introduced herself as being his grandmother, named Jane.

Feeling something was coming, he decided to rent out a big centrally located warehouse with annexed office, where he would bring all the stuff he would gather from all over the country.

He created a big sign above the warehouse, that simply showed the name Rudy's, as he had an idea there would be something he would be doing, but yet had no idea whatsoever on what that would be.

So Rudy started reading. It wasn't long before he recognised several aspects of his character have been in his family for generations, like the tradition to lose all possessions at the gambling table. There were beautiful stories of comradry, of true friendship and loyalty and unfortunately there were piles of information, proof, on how his ancestors were betrayed by a bloodline that apparently actually to this day still has huge debts in foreign currency to Rudy's bloodline. He sighed as he read some terrible stuff.. He surely hoped he would never fall for lies in the way his great- great- great- great- grandfather once did.
Apart from those personal stories, he found several clues on where to look for the warehouses and lockers that belonged to the keys he had been given. As soon as he read about Xiuhtecuhtli, father of Huehuecoyotl, he dropped the key wearing an 'X' from the keyring. Rudy couldn't stand the idea of the blood of sacrifised children in his hands. Whatever would have been locked up with that key, maybe should better only be to be discovered many cultures from now.

The simple key with the cardboard strip reading Ibi Al Bronxi should be the easiest, as Rudy was in New York anyway at the time he started doing his research. He simply went to the Bronx, walked into several bars and asked if anyone had ever known Ibi and was terribly disappointed to find out no one alive had known a person called Ibrahim Al Hulandi. He couldnt find a single lead.
It was only after he boarded a flight to Philadelphia, that he realized it may have been a religious thing. Maybe Ibi was muslim and did not visit any bars? Rudy may have been looking in the wrong places altogether.

Next up, 'AB, OCD, PH', that was an easy one, as soon as he landed, Rudy went to the Market Street, Old City District, soon found some warehouses and asked the groundsman if he had ever known one Aureliano Buendia. The old man nodded without talking, motioned Rudy to come along and pointed out a shed on the edge of the ground that seemed very dangerous to enter. After a minute of hesitation, Rudy stepped up, put the key in the lock, turned the key and tried opening the door. As he pushed against the door the lintel ruptured and came down. Rudy was just in time to dive away as the whole ceiling collapsed. With big eyes, Rudy stared at what he thought could have been his inheritence and thought:
Well, I started out with nothing, thankfully I still have most of it left.

Two keys left. He would go to Vegas first, to find out what Taradiddle (yes, that is a word ánd a name) could have left. After a bumpy flight Rudy started his quick visit to Sin City, decided to first lose all possession he owned at the casino, and then went to the last known address Taradiddle has been staying at. Rudy hardly was disappointed to just find some rotten carrots, hay and dried out three-legged donkey dung when he entered the place.

He closed the door, turned around and looked at the single key left in his hand.

Shaking his head, he mumbled: For fucking out loud, will I have to do what they did?
Rudy sighed.. and took the flight back to get back to his new warehouse as soon as possible. 

He would have go and ask someone else to use that final key and get all the clothmaking stuff out of the store that Alberto Tomba and later Alberto Junior used, the stylish, yet slightly out-of-date fabrics, the glitter, the vast collection of needles, markers, all special kinds of scissors, the patterns for all kinds of suits, dresses and crests, seam rippers and all boldheaded pins, and of course the measuring tools that the two of them had abused to measured so many wom... uhm.. things. 

Rudy took a ladder, placed it under the sign saying Rudy's and added the word 'suits'.

Knowing the time he would be able spend in this lovely, loyal, warm world of crime was very limited (inspection on child labour were harsh, so he would get in serious trouble should he spend too many hours committing petty crimes and heavier felonies), he decided to also put an ad on the wall looking for an assistent or store manager.

After being inside the HQ for what felt like several years, Mark finally decided to find himself some proper clothes and see what the rest of the world had to offer him. He searched his closet for many hours simply trying to decide what would be suitable for this special occasion, but he didn't seem to find anything of interest. 

Then suddenly, he remembered something - a conversation - he had had with his mother just before she left this world of ours. 

"My dearest Mark, do you remember that box I used to tell you all those fairytales about? The box with secret contents?"
"You mean the box I once found in your basement containing all those ..."
"No no no, not that box! The other one, with the suits of your ancestors! For fucking out loud!"

The box with the suits of his ancestors. It was on the bottom shelf of his closet, and he opened it carefully as if he was dealing with antique attires. He had vowed not to open it until an emergency would emerge, and here it was. Some of the clothes were wrinkled and dusty, but it didn't matter to him. 

He didn't have to search for long until he found something that would be proper to wear in the streets. It was hard to explain what it looked like... it was grey and looked like a jacket and a dress combined into one, yet more manly than any clothing he had ever seen before. It had deep pockets and what looked like a belt made of soft fabric, and he had never been this in love with anything before. Ever. 

He searched for some sort of name badge somewhere, and he found two names in the neck: Alberto Junior (the tailor, he assumed) and Mark Fischbach. Like his own name! Perhaps this ancestor died just recently!

Uncertain about how to put it on properly, he pulled his arms through the sleeves and tied the "belt". It fit him perfectly, although it revealed most of his chest. But what the hell, he thought. You only live once. 

As he made it into the streets while the sun was hurting his eyes like never before, the first thing he saw was Rudy's Suits, a shop just across the street. Perhaps he knew something about this Alberto Junior that would be of interest to Mark. 

He went inside and looked around for the owner - there was no need to search for long. 

"Hello there, you must be Rudy. My name is Mark. Do you have a minute or two? I have a few questions I would like to ask you!"

It had been a busy first day at the office. Thank God there were no clients yet!

Ever since the delivery service had brought in all tools and fabrics over from Tomba's and Junior's old stocks, he had been judging, selecting, cleaning tools and fabrics and foremost he had been throwing stuff away. 

As he stretched his arms to look at an unfinished topcoat with shoulderpads (that were way too tiny), he sighed: This is so 1931.. There is so much utterly useless stuff.. Those bloodspats.. He sighed again. So old fashioned..
He continued by going through a pile of patterns of tall pants. Shaking his head, he thought of the vacancy. If he would have had an assistent, Rudy wouldn't have to go gather all the bloody patterns of large pocketed sports coats himself. There was so much outdated stuff, he felt like he could just as well start over with nothing. 

He would admit that there were some gorgeous materials, but upon inspection also here there was a lot of blood on everything. Was this because of his ancestors's lifestyles? Or were both Alberto's just simply clumsy whilst working with scissors, needles and pins? 
Apart from the fabrics ruined by dried blood, there were some that had simply decayed. Rudy had been looking forward to opening the one box that was labelled 'South-Eastern Asian Mulberry Silk'. Once he lifted the lid, he immediately closed it. He grabbed the phone to call the operator to make a call to the local fish store to inquire if they were interested in purchasing a crate of bombyx mori caterpillars.

So far he had created two piles. One containing the stuff he had to get rid off, the other was non-existing. He threw the last bits of declined, de-coloured fabric on the big pile and took a deep breath.
This sorting of stuff had knackered him. He turned his head around to see that the delivery service had put even more boxes in his warehouse. 
Fuck.. This has been the male section only!

All in all it was one big bitter disappointment. Rudy wasn't sure of his brand new enterprise. Maybe it was time for potential clients to pop up out of nowhere..

As if it was meant to be.. A man suddenly entered the warehouse and actually asked for Rudy. For a moment, he contemplated saying the manager had left, but he decided to actually go and run the place..

Hello.. Yes, I am.. Nice to meet you, Mr. Mark_Fischbach.. How can I help you? 

Mark was happy that he was actually talking to the manager and went straight to the case. 

"You see," Mark said and wondered how to explain the whole thing without going into too much detail. "This... weird jacket dress thing I am wearing. I found it in a box along with multiple suits worn by my ancestors. Not only does this suit contain the same name as my own, Mark Fischbach, but also the name of the tailor, I would assume." Mark took a deep breath and hoped he didn't come out here for nothing - that it was all just a waste of time. He was already feeling exhausted, and he had barely been doing anything at all. Was this what it was like to be outside the HQ? All the stress and exhaustion? Perhaps this world wasn't made for him. 

"It says Alberto Junior in my neck. Do you happen to know that name? I mean, you're a tailor, he is or used to be a tailor... I don't know if he's still alive... so, I was thinking you might actually know this guy. Or?"

Elle walks down the street aimlessly trying to remember something her great grandmother told her.  She wracks her brains, but can't quite bring the memory into the open.   All that comes to her is a box.  Some kind of a box.  Think. Think. Think.  What kind of a box was it?  Then she has a memory forming in her mind.   It was a box to only be opened in case of an emergency.  Just like that, the thought disappears and Elle continues walking down the street looking for Rudy, whose grandparents and hers had been very close.  She heard he had a new Tailor business and she was going to comb the streets until she found it.

Rudy she calls into the black night.  Rudy!  Rudy!

Rudy found it a bit scary and intimidating that this gentleman called Mark_Fischbach, dressed in sloppy unstylish clothes, barged in like that and immediately started asking questions about his business, whilst he had not even delivered a single piece of clothing to anyone yet.

But whilst Mark was asking his question, Rudy really felt for him. That man looked so tired! Mark was looking over his shoulder all the time, as if he felt totally anxious, being out of his comfort zone. When Mark named a familiar name, Rudy's eyes widened.. He had to think quick now!

Alberto Junior you say? Uhmm.. well.. Maybe.. Is it like a positive or a negative experience your ancestor had with him?

Rudy stepped a step to the side, to block Mark's view from the label on the huge box that was labelled 'Junior's tailoring Tools', he continued: 

Theoretically.. it may or may not have been the father of my grandfather's grandfather's mother's grandfmot.. I don't really know, does a pie have a gender?

Maybe not the best of answers he could have given..

Anyway.. Rudy paused and continued.. as you are my first potential customer, I would like to offer y..

Suddenly, he heard his name called outside.. Excusing himself, Rudy walked past Mark and opened the doors, hearing a lady voice clearly calling his name..

Yes? Hello! Here I am! I am here! Rudy replied into the dark night.

Again, he heard his name, further away now..

Rudy ran back in, hit the switch to turn on the bright neon lights, that lit up in the black night and ran back out again.

Yoohoo! I am here! Who is calling for me? he yelled

But unfortunately, Elle seemed out of hearing distance. After standing still outside for a couple of seconds, hearing nothing but the wind and some fellow complaining about not being left a hug whisper after being hugged somewhere down the block, Rudy moved back inside, to see Mark's puzzled face.

I am very sorry to disappoint you. Alberto Junior has died quite some time ago. And warranty for costumes only continues for six generations. Do you want something new and trendy instead? 

Rudy pointed at new collection of shoulder pads he acquired earlier on the day.
 

Mark stood there, listening as Rudy talked for a bit and was distracted by someone calling his name. While he was away, Mark looked around. The place itself wasn't very big, and it was still a little messy with boxes and clothes laying around on the floor. 

Before long, Rudy returned and asked even more questions. 

"I am sorry to hear about the death of your grandfather's grandfather's mother's grandmot... or however long ago that is. I am not quite sure why I came here to be honest. I was hoping someone could give me some answers - some sort of meaning to my worthless life. I suppose I set my expectations too high before I entered this shop..."

Mark looked down and felt ridiculously awkward in his suit. It barely reached his knees, and he wore no pants whatsoever beneath the strange jacket sort of dress. However, it was incredibly comfortable. He had never worn anything this luxurious before, and each time he walked he would feel the soft fabric stroke his legs. 

"To be completely honest with you, my good Sir Rudy, I think the suit I am currently wearing is just perfect. But there's something... I don't know, I feel like something's missing. As if my father didn't just wear this, but had some sort of... accessory? Is that what it's called?" He gently rubbed his naked and vulnerable chest, and it was as if a slight breeze caressed his hair. It was obviously becoming darker and colder outside. Fortunately, his HQ was just across the street. 

Then an idea struck his mind. "Maybe... maybe I need some sort of necklace! Something that will make me look even sexier than I already do! Isn't that a brilliant idea?!"

Furiously, he began to search the store from one end to the other, and he wouldn't stop until he had found a decent sort of accessory. 

Is that pancake batter, Mr. Mark_Fischbach?

Rudy stepped back, opened the lid of a box, took out a bunch op papers and spread them out in front of Mark.

If you want to look through Junior's memoirs for sticky details on your great grandfather with the same name's life, be my guest! I will look for a shiny necklace in the mean time. I think it is a marvelous idea! Your suit will be perfect then.. I just haven't figured out where to find what yet... Don't you think this warehouse is huge?

In between the looking for a necklace Rudy decided to walk to the front door, open it, and yell:

Elle! I will give you a nice custom made dress for free if you come here! Elle! Elle?

He closed the door and wondered why he had done what he did..

I understand, Mr Fischbach. This store is kind of a disappointment.. And so is the manag.. Rudy decided not to finish the sentence

It just doesn't have the cosiness of a bar or the vibe of a gambling hall yet.. As Rudy said that out loud, he got some ideas for the future of his suits shop..

Elle hears Rudy bellowing down the streets and stops in her tracks.  She turns toward the clamor and follows it until she sees Rudy inside the Suit shop.  Entering the building without hesitation she runs up to him and hugs him.

Rudy, I haven't seen you since I was a little girl!  Remember how our parents would let us run the streets while they went about their business?  I heard you roaring down the streets about making me a dress and I am here to see what you have.

She smiles at Rudy and waits for him to answer as she walks about the shop, touching every single item in her path.

As Rudy wrapped up a package for Nookie he was delighted to see Elle appear out of nowhere and to see her smile at him!

Yes, I remember! I remember when you were a little girl! Back then I was a little boy.. and look at me now!

Rudy looked over at the mirror of the dressing room..

Oh well fuck.. I still am.. Anyway..
Elle.. What kind of dress would you like?

As he waited for some minutes for Elle to make up her mind, he assumed Elle's priority at this time was to have touched all the fabrics, all the needles and all the trendy shoulder pads in the whole store. So he turned back to Mark..

And Mr. Fischbach, I know exactly what you need!

He took a little stepping device to step on and took a rainbow coloured pot from the top shelf. It was labelled 'Happy'. He looked in it and grabbed something colorful..
Here, take this necklace. The lovely rainbow colours really match your outgoing personality!
Or well.. outgoing.. Did you say this was the first time you went out? I always heard the Fischbach's were kind of extrovert..? And.. Is it in fact pancake batter?

Mark was so busy looking through the whole shop for a necklace until Rudy interrupted him by showing him one. A beautiful one with plenty of colors. Rudy helped him put it on, and Mark looked himself in the mirror on the opposite wall. He didn't even notice the pancake batter until Rudy mentioned it, and he wondered how the hell that had made its way onto Mark's chest. 

"Wait... how long has this pancake batter been there?! I swear, I didn't spot it until now!" Although he was kind of freaked out by the mystery uncooked pancakes floating around on his body, he wasn't really bothered by it.

"Me, extrovert? I'm not sure I would call myself an extrovert... but something along those lines, yes. What matters is that this necklace fits me and my personality. And it most certainly does!"

He turned around to leave, but realized he had nearly forgotten the most important part about this whole thing. "Thank you so much for your amazing help, Rudy. I really appreciate it, and I would've never looked this sexy without your service and guidance. I'm sure all the me-... I mean, women, will swoon whenever they see me."

Mark reached into his pockets to search for some money, but all he could find was a few dollars which were now soggy from the pancake batter on his hands. "Uhm... this is all I have at the moment. It's better than nothing, I suppose!"

Nookie walked up to rudy as she took hold of the package and handed Rudy 2 bars of pure gold and smiled

"it looks good i love it thank you very much ill be sure to recommend  you to people looking for a tailor"

she finished up and walked out waving goodbye as Nookie still had a lot of work to do 

Elayne wandered into the streets feeling penisve. She knew she didn't look her best, figured she could look much better. There was a man standing there, who might be able to help her if she was willing to spare the coin. He said an awful lot of words, words she couldn't be bothered to listen to so instead she just waited for him to approach her and quote his price. She was sure she could meet it, as long as the quality was good enough.

Rudy was flabbergasted to see Nookie's smile reflect in the golden bars she handed.

That is very generous, Miss.. It has been a true pleasure to stitch the stuff together for you!

Turning his head back to Mark_Fischbach, as Nookie left, he remembered he still had some questions to answer.

Yes.. it is, it is unfinished pancake, and it kind of is a family thing, from what I read in my grandfather's grandmother's gretcetera's journals. And, just as I read there, I also feel it lacks a bit of salt. And baking of course. It lacks baking. I truely appreciate the soggy dollars! Thank you so much..

Did you have more existential questions?

Before he let Mark answer, he turned his head to greet his next customer..

As he greeted Elayne, he thought: No wonder Tomba could afford such expensive materials! This could be a full-time job!

For a moment he got worried about child labour inspection, so he looked around him. He was pretty glad he only saw honest criminals and smiled at Elayne, who seemed to be willing to get right to business. So Rudy started a big introduction of how he came here, how he found the warehouse, told the story about the coloured keys until he said

It's simple, you say what you want, I stitch it together. And you pay whatever you think it's worth. Any special wishes?

She glanced about when the man spoke to her, confused but actually mildly relieved. "I don't want to look like a wanton slut," She told him honestly. "So many these days..." She trailed off her brow furrowed.

Yeah, isn't that a grea.. Rudy started enthousiastically.. Then he excused himself to go find a diary on contemporary expressions..

"Existential questions? Where do I begi-..." 

Immediately, Rudy rudy-ely turned to face someone else before letting Mark answer the question. He was sulking as he walked towards the exit, his eyes staring blankly into the ground. It made him think about all of the things he would've asked Rudy - all of the questions were now left unanswered. He would never find the true meaning of his life without Rudy and his help. It truly was a sad day. 

When he exited the shop, he quickly realized it had become even colder and darker, and he pulled his jacket dress thingy a little tighter around his body. It was about time to find something edible somewhere, but he wasn't so certain the pancake batter on his chest would work for anything - no matter how hungry he was. 

Because Rudy went to look up Elayne's expression, he had to unbox another crate, this one with books. There were loads of manuals on how to make clothes. On how to hold your needle, on where the world's most exclusive fabrics came from, on people management. And then he spotted the expression book. Next to it he spotted an awkward one. That couldn't be a coincidence..

Mark!

@Mark_Fischbach had just left the store, so Rudy ran to the door, through it and caught up with him.

Damn it is cold!

Here.. this must have been meant to be! A book on how to bake 100 different pancakes! From green pandan pancakes filled with cocos to rumpancakes with raisins.. You will absolutely love this!

Through the wind he heard Rudy call his name, and Mark turned around to see him standing there, waving with a book in his hand. It looked like a new cookbook.

"Rumpancakes with raisins... my favourite," he muttered to himself and looked up at Rudy, smiling. "This is perfect! It was already on my wishlist for Christmas, but I guess I'll have to cross that out for now." He was about to hug Rudy for the kind gesture until he remembered the pancake batter on his chest. It turned out to be one of the most awkward handshakes ever with his his right hand reaching for Rudy's, and the left arm weirdly floating mid-air. They held each others' hands for a little while until Mark placed his left hand on Rudy's shoulder in an attempt to make it less awkward. It didn't work very well. Both of them let go and took a few steps back.

Mark was given the pancake cookbook, and he knew what the next meal was going to be. "Thank you so much, Rudy. I don't really have any more of those... soggy dollars I gave you beore... but I'll get you some next time we meet. I promise!"

As Macuilxochitl paraded through the streets, he came across an abandoned warehouse that was in a worse state than most Aztec temples. The state of disrepair was similar, but at least his beloved Aztec pyramids had sanctuaries, statues and amazing glyphs. This warehouse only had blood. And bullet holes. And melted silk.

Looking at his jade necklace, in which he saw the reflection of his solid gold crown, he mumbled: Thank God myself I am already wearing the most amazing suit around. 

Mac, or Macuilxochitl for friends, walked through the void where once was a door and smiled as he saw the sign saying 'Open' laying on the floor. He picked it up, slid it between the remnants of the store window, for every passer-by to see the word 'Closed'.