"We will make it! We will make it once those boys get round."

Malak's gaze turned from the window to the open door of the room; "Pimp! What were you gonna show me again?" Manna looked straight to the direction of the hallway out of the room,

"Close that door."

"Huh,"

"Close the door, will ya?"

"Oh!"

Malak shut the door, and saw dangling on the coat hook something like two sealed up suits; fresh from the drycleaners. He saw the tags, then made a bow to his friend, "fresh from the dry-cleaner!" Raising his right brow, "And not a day late."

Malak unhooked the garments, held them as high has his shoulders, bowed his head to examine them each, gave one to Manna, then smiled and withdrew moon-walking backwards to a dark corner. Manna was just looking at him, and then said; "don't trip, Eagle," Turning to look to the other end of the room; "Eagle," Manna breathed heavily, "about Hell's Bitchin;
so you say there will be agents from the club tonight? Just what we need, I thought Kenda was getting us in on no conditions."

No one could be seen replying Manna, but Malak's echoes from the next room went as; "I guess you haven't been listening to our phone conversations Vulture. Quick turn that music down, now clean out your ear. The club's cool agents like to come to charity sort of things to spot raw talent. Their agents think that the kind of Rappers who claim they "keep it real" come to charity type community things," Malak's echoes died down.

"Perhaps so Mal, but we know MC's don't come for free."

"I am not saying they do, all I am saying is that the kind of MC to gig at "community awareness projects" is the kind of MC that is Breaking The Ice. Probably MCing just to be known. That makes it raw Vultcha, THAT MAKES IT RAW. Hell's Bithcin knows it needs to have a raw factor and not just designer rappers 'getting hot in there'... like Nelly."

"Word pimp!" Manna jolted back he looked at his watch, it was 6:45, he smiled.

"But you should know this my vultcha, living in London, wasn't there something of an open-mic grab-a-stage event last year organised by the RESPECT party?"

"Eh London you say? You'll be surprised what escapes me." Manna scratched his head looked at the sheet he had been holding then looked to the window again, and saw some kids with skateboards stopping by the corner of the church to lift their heads and give the music a listen, "I don't know about signing no deal though, Eagle... Have they got a mirror in there or something, you are taking too long?"

"Shut it! How would you know, it must take one to one pretty boy! Anyway, nobody is saying we will sign anything yet."

"But you know that comes down the line sooner or later Mal."

"Yes it does but then why perform if one isn't doing it to land a deal?"

"Hmph! Why perform? Mean Eagle, to show those hired tongues at the club what FREEDOM OF SPEECH really is. They don't take enough risks once they've been accepted as regulars, they become THE STANDARD, but we, we have one shot...one night... other rappers will be there too... to wake that kind of audience by surprise... Man, those guys are so used to their regulars they need a waking...by surprise."

Finally footsteps from the dark corner of the room were getting louder, "A what?"

"To be shook up, you know." "Oh!" Malak came into sight, and Manna turned his gaze from his sheet of papers to the adorned creature standing before him, and before he blinked the following utterances followed: "Hand weaved pure cotton into silk, with the sewn waves of amber coloured threads of which contrasts to the maroon background of a Sahara sunset." Malak was trying to control his face from bursting while Manna started to circle around him and continued, "To his side I see the golden wing of an eagle that outstretches to his breast where I see the head thereI see more gold. To his left, the extremity the other wing reaches, weaved in the sunset like in a net, between the gaps of the net I see the patch work representing the ambiguous moods of the Virgin Island winds...no the Trinidad sands, no the..."

Manna paused at Malak's side then turned to his front and put both hands on his friend's shoulders, "Damn you look fly in this Mean Eagle! You look fly!" Malak not saying anything but smiling, "put yours on Vulctha don't just leave it here!"

"In a minute, I was just reading..."

Malak's phone rang, "Mick's Boys, boy, I need to get this."

"Alright, but damn you look fly."

Malak was busy on the phone while Manna turned from him bending towards the window. He had both his hands to the sides of the frame but his head bowed so low that his sight was to his feet. He jerked a little, before he could raise his eyes the sheets that he was holding flew out of the window.

Manna's palmsmade moist sweat marks on the window frames like upward wings. He was about to close the window when he saw, a "Goth like" girl watching some LOUD kids in horror. The kids werejust next to the passed-out body that they saw earlier, and the kids were laughing loud saying, "Is he dead?" Manna wanting to get rhythmical again started; "what do you think you see when you sit and watch your TV? ...Ah forget it." He looked at Malak who was still on the phone, and they both laughed. Malak strolled up to the window, then whispered; "Man is that a girl? What's she be doing out there on her own?"

Manna shrugged looking down, while fly-reading the papers, "Probably just a local." When is MR Slick Mick coming?"

"Shush, his boys said in about twenty." "Good!" Manna with his elbow by the frame, talking in profile; "Boy it'll be getting dark soon," In a dreamy way he continued, "I lite the night I choose to recite, aight!Damn this speech!" When Malak didn't reply he said again with eyebrows raised;

"Alight like night? KRS ONE?

Boy Mal, you need some brushing up on your old school... the anti-bureau anthem CIA? With the LAST EMPEROR and what's his name from RAGE AGAINST SOMETHING?"

"You mean the Mexican dude yeah with the hair dew? I think I saw clips of it once. When did that tune come out again?"

"Whatever Mal, its all about the fusion in rap THE HOMEBOY DIALECTAL DECONSTRUCTION."

"That's right vultcha... GZA from WUTANG CLAN got it right from the get go, completed Malak.

"My brotha!" Manna jerked; "but you know no one's got it better than that TRICKY KID, TRICKY from Bristol? Man, whenever I played the PMT album at college even fellow brothas were like 'this guy -me- is nuts.'" He laughed reflectively, "It's all about using your voice as an instrument as much as making words mean something. Every true singer knows this rappers should too."

On hearing that statement Malak bowed to his friend with a fist to his chest. Manna returned the bow but turned his head once more out to the window. Malak drew his attention further, "Vultcha, I've got some MAD PROFESSOR beats here waiting to be bed-lamed." While he was saying this Manna's eye was on that Goth girl. "But," Clearing his throat, "what if she is waiting for someone... it ain't good for a girl to be out this late." "Ah, leave her alone what its to us?"

The Mean Eagle face suddenly froze as he felt his army jean pocket vibrate; "Hold on, I think this call is from SLICK MICK."

"You get that Eagle, while ill go get some air."