Slots are just slots. Alternatively, he is endowed with a pale young man who easily multiplies four-digit numbers in his mind, although he makes three grammar mistakes even in his surname. Or out of that autistic who draws divine paintings and writes music, but at the same time does not know how to communicate with people even at the level of ask the seller for a baton of bread. Or out of that manager with the language of Akihito Pomelo, who can sell snow to the Eskimo and rubber grandmother Shah with a hundred thousand harem, but even the addition of simple numbers in him each time leads to a new result. Your slough can be lubricated to them only if it presents a positive, actually, alternative. So far he is not politically correct.