There is no separate boiler in hell for bikers. There are just polite traits that cancel a trip to heaven precisely at the moment when it has just begun to grind to the opposite edge of the boiler, and there are ordinary ones who first do not take the tube for half an hour, then, when the time is left, they joyfully agree, and when he grinds through all the boiling resin to the other edge of the boiler, they turn off the phone and shut down before their nose.