I have a friend, a healthy man, 30 years of age, a beard, a hrivast, engaged in historical fencing, interested in the reconstruction of the early Middle Ages, in short – an excellent guy. One day, our common friends went on vacation and asked him to take care of their dog. I don't know what the breed is, but the dog is small. Not that terrier, rather something like a Beijingese, but more like a dog. A female room variant. But even this room dog needs to walk, such is its dog nature.

On the day I described, my comrade went to some kind of folk festival, where he jumped under the sounds of guitars and rolls, and together with like-minded people sang Irish folk songs in Russian. He dressed, of course, according to the event – grabbed the Scottish Kilt. If suddenly anyone does not know, this is such a men's fabriced shirt, one of the most important items of Scottish men's national costume. But it’s time for the night, the festival is over. People began to think where to go, to continue the banquet. There was also a friend of my name, but he was forced to turn away and go for a walk, the debt above all.

I left as I was, there was no time to go home to change clothes. Well, Peter's thing was, we've got someone here just not going, so the man in the kitten didn't surprise anyone in the subway. He went to friends, took a dog, went out. He went out into the yard, went around the house, let the dog walk, smoked, stood, looked at the sides. The area is depressed; outskirts, floors, late evening, in the street of no one. Suddenly, three beautiful men come out of the corner. Sports costumes, shaved skulls, white socks, sandals are shorter, the classic hops, as it was in the nineties. My friend was surprised; I thought such characters had already been elevated.

The gentlemen noticed him, stopped, looked closely, whispered for a few minutes, then one approached my comrade and politely, without any ambiguity, fired a cigarette. My friend cooked, of course. Autokhton smoked, released a splash of smoke and asked what the breed of the dog was. A friend replied that he didn’t know exactly, they talked a little about the cynology, the local got tired, thanked again, and was about to leave.

- And I had thought that you and the boys would ask me for a shirt, - said the friend, pressing his hand to the rapper to say goodbye.

Are you chick brother? He was surprised, and we see that this is not your shirt, but a kilt!