I go to work, I don’t touch anyone. For a couple of quarters from the institution I see a car accident with a familiar car - stopped, ask no need to help. He said goodbye and walked around the cars. The case of life - the focus of the acquaintance entered the back of a pink machine with the inscription Blonde. Next to the injured machinery nervously smokes a tough man of the biking outdoors. I say :

- It seemed easy to get rid of - the bumper to replace and all... And where is the blonde?

The man throws another cigarette and nervously reports:

The blonde will beat me in the legs when she comes back from the birthplace.