He left the big one under his window. I live on the third floor. In an hour I went out to smoke, and please. Some pepper had already finished cutting the steel wire with a gas cutter that prevented my bicycle from making it. What a area. I had seconds at my disposal. They could be used differently. For example, turn to the pepper, calling with good words to his conscience. Or scream the guard! Enjoying the neighbors. I chose another, the watermelon lying on the window. He targeted quickly, but carefully. He got into the bowl, a juicy crumble broke out. I ran down, cold at once from two terrifying guesses—that the watermelon was either too hard or too soft. The second seemed to bother me more, because I jumped down the stairs not just so, but armed the first one that got under my hand. A hammer for breaking meat. On one side a hammer, on the other a hammer.

Arduino was right. When I ran out of the entrance, like the hell out of the tobacco, the guy was still alive. Morgal from under oatmeal flour, relentlessly relying on the asphalt. His eyes were Tom. But he needed to see my cooking tools - where it came from. The world record of sprint and vocals from the appearance of a miserable, crushed creation. I ran after him for a couple of quarters, waving with a towel and willing to share thoughts. Particularly succeeded my joke about the gas cutter and its eggs. Then he went away to a distant distance. Here I realized that doing all I had time to promise to this fool is not mine. He was upset and did not come back in a hurry. There were sirenes around. As it turned out later, there were a lot of calls that a crazy man with a tail is chasing a bloody victim :)

Here is something else. Does anyone know how to use a trophy gas cutter in the farm?