The man you see walking down the street with a large box scraping along the streets, you look over and see his setting up what appears to look like a market stall outside of the local grocery store, as you look up you see a big dark cloud start to appear, then before you know it you look back down and see TheWeatherman with a sign 

“Umbrellas for sale, get your Umbrellas here before it’s to late”

these Umbrellas look overpriced but the weather man is very clearly capitalising on the ​​​situation of a storm brewing

The streets of Detroit were alive with the usual sounds—factories grinding in the distance, cars splashing through puddles, and the low murmur of street hustlers trying to make a quick buck. But tonight? The rain was coming.

Tony Soprano, his coat collar turned up against the wind, had just finished handling business on the east side. Now, as the first raindrops hit the pavement, he spotted something that made him smirk.

A wooden crate scraped along the sidewalk as a familiar face set up shop outside a local grocery store.

The Weatherman—out of the Mastrosimone Crew in L.A.—was in town.

He stacked umbrellas like they were bars of gold, his hand-painted sign propped up in front:

"Umbrellas for sale! Get yours before it's too late!"

Tony chuckled, flicking ash from his cigar as he strolled up to the stall. “Jesus Christ, Weatherman. You bring that L.A. hustle with you everywhere, huh?”

The Weatherman grinned, already waving an umbrella in the air. "Tony! You know me—gotta make money wherever I land." He gestured to the sky. "Storm’s rolling in, people need to stay dry. That’s where I come in."

Tony took a slow drag of his cigar, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. You always know how to squeeze a guy.” He glanced at the price tag. "Five bucks? You robbin’ people in broad daylight now?”

The Weatherman laughed, tapping the sign. “Look, you’re from Detroit, I’m from L.A. But business? Business is the same everywhere. You don’t sell ice in the winter—you sell heat. You don’t sell coats in the summer—you sell shade. And when it rains?” He twirled the umbrella in his hand. “You sell cover.”

Tony exhaled, nodding slightly. He respected the game.

"Yeah, yeah. You always had a good head for timing." He pulled out a few crumpled bills from his coat and tossed them on the stand. "Fine. Consider it a donation to the Mastrosimone Economic Fund."

The Weatherman handed over one of the finest umbrellas on the rack, still grinning. "Much appreciated, Tony. And hey, next heatwave? Maybe I start sellin’ iceboxes."

Tony popped open the umbrella as the rain started to fall harder. He smirked. "Now that’s a business plan."

With a nod, he strolled off into the wet streets of Detroit, his cigar still burning under the shelter of an overpriced but well-earned umbrella.

TheWeatherman sits there counting his money while smirking, as he sees another happy but unhappy customer vacate the streets with yet another over priced umbrella, he digs deep into his wooden box to get out more Umbrellas to display. holding an umbrella of his own watches Tony_Soprano walk around with TheWeatherman branded umbrella the free advertising seems to be bringing in more customers tha he ever could have hoped for

Clayton increases his speed when he looks up and notices the dark clouds hanging low in the sky. The air feels heavy like it's just waiting to burst open. He can feel it.

He notices a guy further down the block, walking at a slow pace and as he gets closer he notices that he is dragging something behind him.It looks like a big box, scraping along the sidewalk. He sets up a little stall outside the grocery store and then start pulling things out of the box. I don't recognize him, but that doesn’t mean much, lots of strangers come and go.

Then, he sees it - the sign reading; "Umbrellas for sale, get your Umbrellas here before it’s too late!"

Umbrellas? That’s his big idea? 
But hey, it’s a free world, right? he thinks to himself. As much as he don’t get it, he knows one thing for sure, this man has got a good eye for business.
A storm is rolling in and he’s trying to make a quick buck. The umbrellas are overpriced but I suppose he is counting on people panicking when the rain hits hard.

He notices a few people stop by, glancing at the umbrellas like they can’t decide if they want to spend the money. TheWeatherman is grinning and greeting them like he already knows that they WILL spend their hard-earned money.
It’s hard not to be impressed with how he’s taking advantage of the wheather. Some of them are digging in their pockets already, without a doubt they must be thinking about how much they’d hate to get soaked.

I suppose that's the case. He thinks to himself. But he doesn’t like the way that he is going about it.

Taking advantage of the weather and people's desperation this way, doesn’t sit right. He will keep an eye on this guy. If he keeps this up, maybe someone must have a little chat with him.

TheWeatherman’s sitting behind his little stall, counting his cash. The rain starts pouring down, but he doesn't seem to care about it or about getting wet. Instead he starts to smile, he couldn't believe his luck. With every umbrella he will be selling, he will be making more than he ever thought that he would.

Clayton can see it, people are walking by, giving him those looks and next thing you know, they’re holding up one of his umbrellas, handing over their hard-earned cash. Clayton sees one guy leave with a big frown on his face but there’s nothing he can do now. He’s already bought the damn umbrella.

TheWeatherman’s loving every minute of it, though. He’s still got that umbrella in his hand, the one with his name on it, like a damn billboard. one has got to admit, it’s a smart move. 

People cannot ignore it, like flies being attracted to the light, when they see it they want one for themselves.
He is not making any effort to try and hide it, using that umbrella like free advertising. It’s working too, ’cause now, Clayton notices more people stop by his stall.

But here’s the thing though, he has seen guys like him before, trying to get ahead by stepping on everyone else. They think that they've got it all figured out, selling these overpriced items.

He’s doing alright now, but if he keeps pushing too hard, he’ll end up over-charging the wrong person.

Clayton lights up a cigarette and takes a drag from his cigarette and step a little closer.
Time to go have a word with Mr. Weatherman. Let him know I’m keeping an eye on him.

Dynamite steps up to the stand and purchases an umbrella. Seems like a great time to purchase one considering the storm clouds above. He pulls some cash out of his wallet and pays the man.

Voldemort had been to all sorts of cities, and seen all sorts of weather, and today was the day, he finally got tired of his suits getting wet, the colors running, and the undershirts being see through. He walked into the umbrella academy, a beautiful and extravagant store and took a look around at all the options.

 Can I get one of your finest and largest umbrellas, I have never seen so much rain in my life and quite frankly, I can not stand it anymore. I would prefer one in a dark color, something that will not blow away in the wind as I am a frequent flyer to Chicago, and one that will ensure that I never see a drop of rain on my fancy suits ever again.

LordVoldemort had purchased an umbrella the other day, He was pleased by it.

I was so pleased by the last purchase, that I have decided I need one in every color, to match my vibrant and wonderful suits..

He proceeded to look around the shop, picking up umbrellas in various colors patterns and materials.

I will take all of these, I believe that will cover every occassion.

With a quick smile, he put a large stack of cash down in front of the cashier

This should cover it, and a little for yourself as well.