http://users.livejournal.com/vba_/65197.html



About game skills.



In the community of our institute lived one senior student named Count,

Excellent Grandmaster of Preference. In its unbeatable, elegant

In his manner he constantly dressed even the great masters, not to mention the

All kinds of seeds. Money from the partners he pumped out immeasurably, and, as a result,

With him few people sat down to play, although the dream of every lover.

He took revenge, and the Count was struck.



And then one evening, the eternal victim of card cards ran into the kitchen of the community.

Kulaev cried out that the Count was sitting drunk in his ass.

Can be taken with naked hands. A delegation came to the Count.

Revanchists persuade him to sit down for the game. But he, dumb tired on the floor,

standing firmly on the bed and all over the floor, began to refuse,

referring to fatigue. The rebellious men assured that for such

A great player, like the Count, drunk a glass of wine is not an obstacle, but vice versa.

and help. The Count stood up with all his strength, but, in the end, he

The resistance was broken. He was hard to get to the table where he

The partners were already in a hurry to write a sheet, and tried to offer to play the game.

The minimum bet. But the excited partners of the pressure did not weaken, and, in

The result was an unprecedented high rate (in my opinion,

20 copies for a view).



They handed down the cards, the Count took his own, looked at the painted sheet of bullets,

He stood up on a chair, wore a penny (he wore penny) and looked around with affection.

and partners. Everyone was terrified to see that he was sitting in front of them.

a sober Count, having nothing to do with that salivary medusa, which

He painted a minute ago. He was sitting at the table in front of them.

A merciless concentrated fighter.



“Once,” said the Count.



Such a bloody card bath, like the one that followed, our faculty

I did not know.