Florence, 1497

The Bonfire of the Vanities was in full swing. Across the city, caught in fervor by the incensed ramblings of the Mad Monk, the people of Firenze burned writings and artworks of the Renaissance – the vanities in the bonfire. Amongst these vanities included music and while many citizens had been caught up in the burning fever, there were those who were desperate to cling onto the joys that the Renaissance had brought. And during this hectic period, where nine lieutenants close to the Mad Monk placed in charge of the city mysteriously went missing, one greedy minstrel named Rigatoni Pesto sought to exploit the musically-starved for a few florins.

"And now, people. Here is a song!" He quickly scratched a few notes on an out of tune lute. Amidst boos from the crowd, Rigatoni swiftly dodged a rotten tomato tossed at him. He snatched a large, heavy bag filled with coin that he and his associate minstrels had forced the attendees at lute-point pre-show to fill up with all their valuables. "And now, here goes your florin!" Cackling with glee, his associate minstrels closed an iron gate as Rigatoni Pesto fled into the alleyway. He had stored horses near the city walls and he would flee to his cousin's in Tuscany until all this had died down and his act of villainy had become forgotten.

Everything was going to plan… until he bumped directly into the mysterious hooded man.

"This whole situation sickens me... to see beautiful Firenze reduced to such levels of patetico frenesia. I have spent the entire day running around the city, killing people and having to listen to their pathetic dying words, watch these sick beings try to justify their revolting actions. Truth be told… it makes want to punch someone who deserves it in the faccia! And it seems that Dio has chosen to answer my preghiere!" At this very moment, the Assassin Ezio Auditore da Firenze took out a broomstick and brandished it very menacingly.

The Minstrel burst out into laughter. "A mere manico di scopa? You think that can defeat me, the monarca of minstelli? Um…. MINSTRELS!" He cried out at the top of his lungs. Instantly, an entire battalion of fifty minstrels burst out of the nearest haystack. Their eyes were red, blood leaking from the eyelids, and they were sneezing uncontrollably, for after all, they were minstrels very prone to allergic reactions to hay and they had been hiding in that haystack for about a month waiting for Rigatoni Pesto to give that very order.

"Grazie Gesù! Fresh air at last!" One of the minstrels croaked before he dropped unconscious. The other 49 minstrels summarily followed in suit. Standing between Ezio and Rigatoni was an increasingly red sea of comatose minstrels.

"Goddamn you, you ravioli-licking feticista famiglia! It shall take you forever to wade through my fallen compatriots though, so you shall never catch me!" Rigatoni proceeded to turn around, preparing to bolt the other direction only to see an angry mob covered in dead minstrel parts coming this way. Meanwhile, something wicked the other way came.

"This is what you get for your horrible excuse for a song!" Ezio roared as he snatched Rigatoni's lute from his hands. With broom in hand and lute in other, he swung both with ferocious strength into the sides of Rigatoni's knees. A crack filled the alleyway, echo ricocheting from wall to wall. The cheers of the crowd as they witnessed Ezio beat down the minstrel added to the chorus of passion. Tossing the lute aside, Ezio lifted the broom and repeatedly swung it down upon the minstrel's head. Soon, Rigatoni was weakly lifting his head, opening his mouth to let a flood of blood, loosened flesh, and teeth fall out. Soon after came acidic vomit, which Ezio swiftly dodged.

"And for my final trick, here is something no one can resistere!" He reached into his pack and tossed several florin onto the ground. The scattering of metal on the ground produced a unique sound that quickly reached the ears of the crowd. They scanned their eyes, and locked on the gold scattered across the near-broken body of the minstrel. Now, Rigatoni's body was about to become broken.

"Gold coins!"

"Florin!"

"It's my lucky day!"

"Wait… noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo"

On that day, Rigatoni felt his manliness go pop pop pop as the crowd trampled over him for the coin in orgasmic passion. His voice would be reduced to levels of squeakiness that had been unheard of. And there had been a nearby discarded nail near his face. As someone stepped down, his left eye met the spike. His screams, so high pitched, eventually annoyed the crowd away. Rigatoni found himself unable to move, his bones all broken. He was covered in blood, his skin torn, and what was this white and yellow stuff upon him? It definitely was not milk and limonata! Crying pathetically, Rigatoni reached up the moon.

"Fly away…. fly away… I'll escape you…." and slipped unconscious.

On the rooftop above him, two figures looked down. One was a man who had recently left behind the boy, and the other a woman.

"I don't like him. He is a shameful disgrace to my former profession."

"Neither do I. But still, he is rather stupid. And we could use all the stupid, malleable manpower we can get. You do want revenge on Ezio Auditore, don't you?"

"Yes. More than anything."

"Good, Carmelo."