A/N : Ersatz, much thanks for the review. Gholam has gotta be my one of favorite villains, along with Daved.

"Empty yo wallet, foo! You gotz two seconds." DJ Gholam spits angrily and Mat holds his hands up in defense,

"Why you gotta do me like dis, Homie."

"We aint 'homies', foo! Now empty dem pockits!" Gholam gestures his anger with his gun but Mat holds strong,

"Hell naw, we gotta enuf of dis hate between ourselves."

"Whatchu talk'n bout, you aint black!" Gholam demands offended and Mat scoffs and crosses his arms,

"Try me, dawg."

"Aight den, I'll ax you one question, biatch. Hit it right, I'll letchu off. Wrong and you is done, punk!"

"Spit." Mat challenges and Gholam smiles both crookedly and deviously with his golden teef,

"You best rec that Jesus waz black, but who da hell in bible timz wadn't black?!"

Mat raises an eyebrow in confusion, knowing damn well Jesus wasn't black but he'll go along for the sake of his small coinage. But then to the question, he has no idea who he's supposed to say. Perhaps Judas, since a black guy wouldn't betray another…unless one had somthin the other wanted…

"Well?!" DJ Gholam yells impatiently and Mat looks up and exhales deeply in fear. A million names pass through his mind but he chooses one,

"Noah."

"Noah?! What da hell you tripp'n on!?" DJ Gholam aims the gun and Mat holds up his hands and speaks immediately,

"Check yo-self before you wreck yo-self. You tell me if a black guy could survive some forty dayz with two chickens in a wooden box and not eat one of em!" DJ Gholam's face transforms from anger to fury, irate rage that rivals a Myddraal's stare,

"That is da most racist thang I ever done heard! But—" Gholam breaks out into snickers and lowers the gun, "We do love our chik'n tho. I'll let yo ass off."

Mat exhales through relief and Gholam holsters his gun and spits on the ground. He opens his mouth to say something but loud sirens are heard from behind the alley. DJ Gholam's eyes widen and he spins around as a cop yells out,

"He's over here! Get that pot smok'n bastad!"

"G'damn fuzz! Smellz like bacon in dis piece!" Gholam bursts away and Mat takes off beside him and realizes after ten steps that he aint black and doesn't have anything to worry about. He steps to the side as the tall cop passes him but Gholam is no where in sight at the bricked dead end.

"Where'd he go?!" The tall, older man asks and Mat shrugs his shoulders, looking down towards the entrance of the alley,

"Where's the other guys at? And the squad car?" The older man shakes his head and pulls out a tape recorder, playing back the sound of sirens,

"It's just me. Detective Noal, what are you doing here?" Mat shrugs again,

"You know, chill'n….I mean…uh…hanging out." Mat places on his most innocent and winning smile and Noal nods his head dismissively.

"You see him again, you tell me. If I catch Gholam, I'll get my badge back." Mat raises an eyebrow through curiosity of what the poor old man could have done to get his badge revoked,

"You touch the mayor's daughter or somthin?"

"Malpractice suit on a whiny kid. I didn't relocate his femur properly…" Noal holds up his hands and Mat isn't surprised, looking at the bent and gnarly looking twigs.

"Surprised you can reset a watch let alone a leg." Mat answers skeptically and Noal's eyes widen in shock.

"What time is it?!" Detective Noal looks at his watch and growls through his teeth, "I'm missin it!"

"What?"

"The Friends/Frasier marathon! Aint you gonna catch it?!" Mat scoffs derisively and waves his hand dismissively,

"I love how we aint rep'd in either of dem showz. Reminds me of a g'damn GAP commercial."

"Suit yourself. I'm out!" Noal spins around and takes off out of the alley and into the street. Mat throws his hands into his pockets and follows, just as Vanin and Nalesean show up.

"This morning has sucked ass long enough. Maybe some hot chicks will stop by the fabric store."

"Maybe." Nalesean shrugs casually and Mat sighs as he turns and they all continue towards 'Ebou Dari Petticoats and Such.'

Mat opens the door and forces his arm down from ripping the damn bell from above the door and crushing it within his fist. As soon as he takes one step into the store, Elyane swoops in, glaring furiously.

"What now?" Mat asks and Elayne smacks him across the face, sending him backwards. Nalesean escapes away from the barrage of slaps and glares and Vanin continues his heel lickings.

"I told you to address me as ma'am, bitch!" Elayne demands as Mat recovers and he bows deeply in mockery,

"A thousand apologies, Mistress!"

Elayne growls and rears back her hand for another strike but a voice from the back of the store halts her.

"Oh Matrim dear!" Everyone turns to seek the source of the sensual voice and Mat groans as he sees Tylin stepping out from her office, "Be a dear and come here would you?" She bats her eyelashes coquettishly and Mat looks from the glaring Elayne and back to Tylin and nods.

"Sho thang." Mat steps wide of Elayne and strolls back to Tylin's office, appreciative that his red cheek was saved but he wonders what she wants.

"How are you today, sweet chicken foot?" Tylin asks with a seductive smile and Mat raises an eyebrow,

"I've been better. Uh, you?" Tylin doesn't answer, simply snickers and motions towards her office.

Mat takes a deep breathe and steps through the small door, entering Tylin's sweet smelling, clean office which consists of a wooden desk at one end and a black and red love seat at the other. It seems normal enough but Mat knows she's up to something. What woman isn't?

"Would you be a dear and try this on?" Mat turns around at Tylin's beckon and his eyes widen at seeing the tight fitting leather pink shorts and long sleeved shirt she holds on a hanger. Mat clears his throat and thinks of a way out.

"That's not a woman's…uhhh, set?"

"Oh of course not. I need a man to model the male clothes for the store and you…are perfect." Tylin licks her lips and thrusts the clothes into Mat's arms.

He looks towards the open door and then at Tylin and grits his teeth,

"Could I have some privacy?" Tylin quickly nods and grabs the doorknob, pulling the door closed. Mat scratches his forehead,

"I meant…uhhh…" Tylin leans forwards inquisitively and Mat groans and turns around. He uncomfortably pulls off his jacket and shirt and tries not to think of Tylin's hungry eyes on his bare back. He can hear her breathing and the impatient tapping of her heel.

Mat pulls the pink long sleeved shirt over his head and inhales, sucking his chest and stomach tight and squeezes into the shirt. He struggles to breathe and turns around, knowing for damn sure the shorts aren't going to fit.

"How…is…this?" Mat asks through labored pants and Tylin's eyes widen in hunger and her lips curl.

"Wonderful!" Mat barely has time to react as Tylin leaps forwards and tackles him into the love seat.

He attempts to move his arms to push her away but the shirt restrains him as well as ropes would. Not being able to breathe doesn't help either. He struggles against Tylin's full lips pressing against his face and neck and her immoral hands groping "inappropriate" places.

"I'm going to eat you up, my little pool boy!" Tylin cackles as she reaches for Mat's zipper, but he's able to slide under her and away. She topples to the floor and Mat leaps for the door, for freedom and salvation.

"Where are you off to, my squeezable pudding pie?" Tylin asks seductively, unbuttoning her blouse and Mat shakes his head cringing, unable to speak, unable to breathe, and pushes the door open. He bolts through the store, dodging the two plastic employees and ducks under Elayne's flailing fist. He rolls across the floor and pushes open the front door. Mat stands up quickly and immediately collides with a mass, causing a feminine yelp.

"Ouch, you bastard!" Mat grinds his teeth as he recognizes Nynaeve's voice. He stands up from atop her, barely missing the flail of a braid she wields, almost as deadly as the poisonous glare she launches at him. Mat growls furiously, in no mood for this ho,

"Trick, you betta check yo-self! Call me a bastard one more again and you gonna—"

"Gambler!!!" A thunderous voice echoes from the east and Mat turns wide eyed in fear, every ounce of his being trembling.

"L…L…Lan…"

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my Mashiara?!?" Lan demands, unsheathing his ominous blade from his back.

"I…I…I'm…so…sorry." Mat stammers, "It'll…uh…ne…never happen again, Masa, I pomise, Masa." Lan growls and nods his head,

"Oh no it won't! Coz I'm gonna mince you fine, boy!"

"P…P…Please have mercy, boss." Mat drops to a knee as Lan approaches, both hands on his blade,

"It's over for you, Toby!"

"My name is…Mat Cauthon."

"Your name is Toby!"

Mat closes his eyes as the sword flashes and he feels the steel whisper against his chest and he can instantly breathe again. He slowly opens his eyes and looks down as the pink shirt falls to the ground in two pieces.

"Don't wear fagotty sht, boy, it angers me. Now get the hell out of here!" Lan sheathes his blade and Mat bows gratefully and bolts away from the fabric store.