Zack entered the Butcher Block, a bar in the Walmarket area of Midgar. He was led here on a rumor that the owner of the dress shop, was in fact a expert weapons smith who wanted to remain known as such with the exceptions of extreme emergancies. This was just the person that Zack needed now. He had tried the dress shop earlier, but the owner's daughter said her father spent all his time at the bar.

He remembered that earlier that morning he had heard that inspection time was drawing near, and it could come when he least expected it. Sorrowfully, Zack had run his finger along the once razor sharp blade of his sword, he had to admit, it had seen its share of battles. The sword was worn, nicked a little too hard in a few places. It was almost depressing just looking at it.

So there he was, standing in the middle of a room filled with the stench of of beer and cigarettes, searching hopefully for a man who made dresses for a living. "Come to think of it, what kind of expert weapons smith would make dresses?" he grunted to himself, peering through the crowd at the man who appeared to own the establishment. He pushed his way through the sea of people until he was in front of the owner, " You wouldn't have seen the dress shop owner here have you? I really need to talk to him." The large balding man simply stared at Zack, raising an eyebrow in a frightened confused manner.

" Let me get this strait." Said the man, snickering, " you need to find the dress shop owner?" Zack blinked and then nodded. " Why? You need a dress son?" cackled the man, almost falling over on poor Zack.

Zack had been about to explain his dire weapondry situation, when he recalled that the weapons smith didn't want all of Midgar rushing to his front door in need of mini-lazer gatling guns, Ultima weapons, and Masamunes. So he nodded, " Yeah, I need a dress, or something like that."

At this the owner responded by ceasing his laughter, drawing in a deep breath, and then laughing madly once again. When he finally calmed down and caught his breath, he simply pointed down to the end of the bar and said, " There *snicker* he is my boy *wheeze* hope you find everything you need *cackle*." Zack nodded and thanked the man, who was now too busy cracking up to notice. He walked over and sitting at the bar by the man, he turned to look at him.

" Hey, you the dress shop owner?" he asked, watching the man empty his glass. The man didn't look at him, instead he just ordered another drink and downed that one as well. Zack waved his hand in front of the mans face," Did you hear me?" he growled, almost wishing that he didn't need this man alive.

The old man eyed him and took of his hat and held it in his hands, " Do yah want to look . . . pretty?" he asked in an old mans tone, waving his head from side to side. " I don't think I have anything in yer size though."

" Listen, I came to you looking for someone that could repair my sword." he said, getting a little annoyed at how long this was taking. " I've got the money, so could you help me out?"

The old man blinked at him and then smiled stupidly," I'm sorry sonny, I can't help yah, yah see, I didn't hear a word yah said, my friend Joe here's talking a little too loud." he said put his arm around the shoulder of someone that wasn't even there. The old man politely ordered three drinks, one for Zack, one for himself, and one for his invisible drinking buddy.

Zack shook his head and looked at the glass, then lifted it to his lips and took a gulp. He looked over at the old man, who was now attempting to beat the invisible drunkard in a friendly game of rock paper scissors, and worst of all, he wasn't winning. Frustrated the man hurled his glass at the large mass of nothingness and it struck the owner of the bar on the toe. The fat bald man yelped in pain and was beginning to hop around on his good foot. He old man got to his feet, realizing that he had missed the invisible bar fly, he panicked and ran out the door. Zack followed him, maybe now he would fix his sword.

Zack found himself back at the dress shop, where the old man was standing behind the counter. The man looked at Zack as he entered and shrieked," You'll never take me alive, it wasn't me, I swear ta Gad!" he exclaimed taking a nearby broomstick and thrusting it out in front of him," I never stole anything in my life, but if yah insist on badgerin' me 'bout those damn ice cream bars then we must do battle!" he yelled jabbing hopelessly at Zack with the broom.
" Hey cut it out, I'm not here to arrest you!" Zack shouted grabbing the end of the broom and jerking it away from the man.

" But, but my sword." the old man said, he looked at the broom, getting a little teary eyed. " Wait your not here to take me in?" he examined Zack's face and smiled, " Ah its you, what was it that yah wanted back at the bar?"