A fucking job, a fucking office, a fucking bureaucracy, a fucking life. How to thank me for the service - so all the bottles are pulled, liters and the price of thousands from five. And as you go with this bottle to another unit to the workers to help quickly and without hemorrhoids with agreements - so looks at you a healthy sober pumped guy and says, say, "Name Bareketovich, don't need - we would be better with cash, five hundred points more than enough."
A quarter of the salary is divided by five hundred points.
XHH: But in the office, fool, alcohol market can be opened.