Flashmob to fly.
The SPB. At Duma (club street, leaning in the channel of Gryboedov) a character leaves the club, runs across the road, hangs over the perimeter and mosques farce to Grybanal. Perry's body stands in even greater inadequacy, seeing this feat, decides to join. Nearby are some of his familiar bodies, they hang over the perils to ask his stubborn companion, like him. A group of tourists passes by, they see a bunch of bodies of something looking out there, joining. Darkness, there is no shit there, it only warms interest. They are joined by the celebrators, who at the Grybanal and Duma are always to the fuck.
Time is passing.
The initiator has long gone to his club to clean up further, the crowd continues to grow, looking into the remnants of the drained mixture of shaverma, chips, alkasha and tušema. There are rumors that in Grybanal, not the body, not the diving, not the iPhone someone has fallen...