After gutting some old building which had been left behind by previous occupants of the city, Madara unveiled the restored building. It had new brick structures surrounding it, a fresh green lawn and flower beds either side of the path leading up to the entrance.

The sign above the door read

"Madara's Honestarium" 

A poster by the beginning of the path explained clearly the occupants of this building offered the service of honesty. A hard to come by trait, which frankly was worth paying for. 

If you needed an honest opinion about whether that get up you wanted to wear to the funeral was too slutty, or if the chick you're madly in love with is actually just using you to obtain the contents of your wallet and your friends are only interested in not hurting you, because you're likely to share those same contents with them as long as you're happy... this is the place you need to come to.

Although this was an ordinary business, there was no fixed price tags for the services like other places. This place operated with a $0 income. Not because they didn't expect payment, but the "payment" was to be in the form of 'tips' or 'donations/charitable contributions' This was simply to avoid having to pay the greedy IRS a % of their profits. The greedy cops and Godfather was already taking enough as was, without the US government also taking slices off the top.

"So, no matter what the issue you need an honest outside view point on... come on in and let us tell you if you're truly fat or not! *professional & discrete* "

Shortly after leaving the newly opened gym, Madara decides to check in on his little business. He's extremely disappointed to find out that not only has no one used the service, only 7 fucking people had even bothered to pop in to just have a look!

He was shocked at the lack of attendance around these districts. He and his bloodline had campaigned long and hard here and else where... arguing with members of the public, prominent mobsters and even the Gods to help these suffering districts out and he was told that it should just be left to the people to sort it out for themselves.

After being open for 2 weeks and only receiving 7 visitors, 1 of which was himself, that was less than 1 set of eyes just looking, every 2 days. He shook his head. He wondered to himself, what the hell people had to do in order to get it through to others than "rank up and do something about it" was the same as saying "I'm a shit eating moron with too few brain cells to think about the issue, never mind a potential solution."

Madara wondered to himself if maybe the business was too cheap. Maybe he needed to charge more for the services? Detroit's shitty and failing economy might be contributing to why ordinary people don't spend their money on luxuries like honesty, but those that did have the dough were skipping the place because they felt it was too common?

No, that wasn't it, he thought to himself... Other wise these same mobsters wouldn't be hitting the bars as frequently. Those places were a dime a dozen and the booze, mediocre at best. 

Maybe honesty just wasn't something that interested people. Well, Madara had been running about the place offering his honest opinion, requested or not. The dying art of running a business, the dying art of putting your shoes on and leaving the fucking HQ was nearly in the grave. There were a dozen or so mobsters left in the world that actually checked businesses out whilst they travelled and even fewer who actively went out of their way for the whole of 5 minutes it took them to make use of them. 

Madara stood outside the shop and looked up the road, then back down again. There was no one around... even the guy who made the tumbleweed didn't bother coming out any more, since there were literally so few people that they wouldn't be seen. Even the crickets had decided to say home... After all, if a group of crickets (whatever their collective noun is) all chirp together, but no one's around to hear them... do they bother to chirp? 

Madara realised that he was the last symbol of emptiness in any given location. After the tumbleweed and crickets had gone, Madara was the sole remaining thing in the entire district. He decided to take the opportunity to give being a naturist a go. He strips  down to his birthday suit and even takes off his mask. No one would be out in these streets for hours, maybe even days. Perhaps someone might walk along the street to get to their own business to see if anyone bothered to make use of it, but by that time Madara would have gotten dressed again and probably flown off to another city to see whether or not that place had any kind of activity in it's business sector.

Madara cartwheeled, did hand stands, danced and paraded up and down the streets completely kitless. He enjoyed himself, then he got dressed and fucked off for another city he could try giving the naturist thing a go.

Madara popped into his honestarium to have a chat with one of his employees. A bizarre event had occurred and he needed someone to talk to about it.. 

"I've never been so surprised!" said Madara to the bloke behind the counter. "Yesterday, while I was filleting a fish in the kitchen, a slithering snake just wandered in."

"It crawled over the oven and then slipped behind the fridge."

"The snake then went into the bedroom where it played with the cookie jar that was sitting on the cabinet.

"After darting around the cabinet 3 times the snake decided it had had enough of my company and went outside. The snake quickly climbed the nearest apple tree and then totally ignored me."

Madara had realised for the first time, despite feeling scared at the time, the snake actually had no interest in him what so ever. He let out an audible sound of surprising realisation "Huh.."

"Well that was it. I'm off now. I know it's slow around here, but still... stop smoking pot and pay attention to the shop front you stoner hippy d-bag."

Madara exited the store and wandered off to find a new source of amusement