The words of a friend.

In response to the story about the daytona: https://www.anekdot.ru/id/996138/

A few years ago, in the summer, I woke up at five in the morning from loud sounds. There was such a thunder as if someone decided to spray a sheet of metal with a circular saw with large teeth. I put my head under the pillow and tried to fall asleep.

We repeated the next day, with the only difference - the craftsman began to shave 10 minutes earlier.

On the third day, I jumped out on the street with a firm intention to kill somebody, but it was quiet on the street. Only a bird flew from the roof of my house.

As I should have thought and realized that the time of the beginning of the craftsman's work correlates very well with the rising of the sun, I suspected the bird that flew away (to consider it properly I did not have time).

On the fourth day, I set up the alarm 15 minutes before sunrise, quietly went out and saw the metal pipe of my house as a thief sat down and began to forget it. The frequency of shocks was stunning – not in vain I thought it was a circular saw. I threw a stone, but I missed it. He looked at me with contempt and fled.

Searches on the Internet revealed that the dots bite the house in two cases. One - if they hear that there are bugs inside the wall. But it was unlikely that the thief tried to get to the bushes through a sheet of metal. Other dots knock around the house, indicating their territory and attracting representatives of the fair sex. The louder the knock, the more attractive the knocking. My daddy found the perfect source of sound, a metal tube, and was clearly not going to stop his morning concerts.

I went on the path of war. Throwing stones and screaming made no impression on him. He continued to dumb. Eventually, I bought a child’s water gun and shot it with a stream of water. From surprise, the devil fled. But the next day he just moved over to the other side of the pipe so that I could not see him, and on the third day, having raised his wings, he took a pleasant shower and then continued to crack. To admit the defeat was inferior to my human dignity (although I was already accustomed to meeting the dawn in anticipation of the dawn), so I decided to overtake it.

Since the sound was important to the dart, I covered the pipe with pieces of foam and, in order to keep them in place, wrapped them with a metal grid. For the first time in a long time, I went out before dawn in anticipation of victory. Dyatel, as usual, flew, sat on the trumpet and struck with a clove. There was no sound. He shrugged his head and tried another place. The result was the same. The pieces of foam were thick (packaging from the TV), so he couldn’t break them into small pieces and pull them out of the grid (as well as break the grid). After two days of torture, he left forever. I started sleeping quietly in the morning, proving (at least to myself) that I was smarter than the day.