They told the story that happened 15 years ago, also in a hot July.

The director of the Palnikov psychinternat went to Maysky near Krasnokamsk for a pork unit to buy pigs for the internat - to feed the psyches.
I took an enclosure with me. They go to Nivea.

While the director walked, picked pigs, the farmer ate with familiar pig farmers in the slum.
Four pigs in two boxes. One in the luggage compartment, the other in the rear seat.
The drunk man is sitting in front of him, sleeping.
They go. The overseer rolls around the cabin, preventing the director from driving the car. He wanted to attach him, but he was thick, the belt was lacking. The director thought, got the pharmacy box, pulled a roll out of it and wrapped the wardrobe to the seat.

Close to the Stone Bridge. It was still narrow there. The cars barely float. In addition, the pigs got out of the boxes, ran, collapsed in the "Niva". There is nowhere to stop, hot, drunk snoring.

Haishnik brakes at the post at the bridge: "Your documents" and looks at the housing attached to the plaster. The face becomes confused.
You are who? He asks the director.
The one with anger says, “I am the fool’s director!!!”
At this time from the rear seat to the front driver's over the shoulder of the director comes out a pig face and whispers.

Haishnik, without looking at the documents, gives them back and says, "Happy journey!"