A acquaintance told me.
I went fishing with three fishermen. On the night of the fire in the bushes left the first... did not return. The second one was gone, and he also disappeared. The third was the same result.
The acquaintance remained alone at the fire, waiting, terribly, the bear’s end... He went to look. I found.
Picture with oil: the first stands with cancer, the second lights his ass with a lamp, the third is forging something there.
It turned out to be the first to crash... a newspaper... in which fishing hooks were wrapped.