I will remember the funny story about communion in the political center =) We lived like all three in a room. And there was one among us that we, the other two, did not like. There was for what. He was drawing. It would sound bad, but he was painting at night. With the upper light on, because the desk lamp had little. He ignored all our requests. And, as they say, it struck. One day, when this man left the room and went to his neighbors, we picked up his winter jacket, sprinkled the pad and wrapped in a piece of stuff that kicked out when you took a thread out of the store without paying. It is filmed on the box. The jacket was carefully sewed back)))) Drawing at night he, of course, did not stop, but from his endless complaints to the sheltered shops guards, it became easy and light on our souls )))))