Xxx is swimming. Suddenly someone gets him for the eggs and the voice asks: - Plus two or minus two? The man said, “Two more. He goes out on the shore and has four eggs. The man thinks: I'll go back now, I'll say "minus two" and everything will be fine again. He slipped back into the water, sailed to that place, there he was again caught for eggs and asked: - Plus four or minus four?



YYY: There is a continuation

The male already eight eggs in horror goes into the water in the hope that everything will work out and will be well, and in the space does so a couple of times, and eventually finds himself on the shore with a huge cluster between the legs of 32 eggs. Decides to go in for the last time, he is caught for all these eggs, and they say “plus 32 or minus 32”, the man clamps up and says “minus 32!To end this nightmare. The debilitated man goes to the shore, sees that all 32 eggs are in place, and there is no tooth in his mouth.



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Previously our hockey was a courtyard, and now it has become a courtyard.

Maugli

We then launched the arbolite factory from a long absence, it is the one that makes plates for home construction from scraps. The bare walls of a huge shop under the roof. Our assembly team has provided a small room for their needs.
Equipped it with all the necessary hanged the steel door, but the lock to insert did not have time.
The next morning, when we came to work, we found a couple of teenage kittens, six months of breed, in our canteen. One escaped, the other was caught by the tail, and was pleased to stay with us. He became the fifth in our small brigade.
Black, without a single speck, the beautiful man was named by us by the name of Maugli, and by the collective will he was freed from the need to refer to the grandmother's kiss-kiss. by name or by whistle.
In our canteen we changed clothes, used to have lunch and stored labor tools. The door was always closed on the key, so that the local labor-golicians did not stitch these same tools of labor, and at the bottom of the steel door they cut a window for Maugli.

Maugli welcomed us every morning at the entrance to the workshop, accompanied us to the canteen, bending his back with a puddle and shaking his legs, and urcha swallowed the housekeepers. There was another ritual he strictly followed. When we changed clothes and loaded with instruments, cables, tubes and gas balloons to the next dislocation, Maugli accompanied us to the place, but not as accompanied by dogs, seeds next to or ahead, but as cats.
The workshop had just begun to be filled with the sounds of the engaged mechanisms, with voices, with a metal whisper, and Mowgli with short interruptions, hiding between the rails under multi-ton steel forms, then the matter, dying and clinging to the concrete floor, accompanied us to the place, and already then left for his business. If it was winter, he returned to a warm canteen, and in the expectation of lunch examined his dreams, and in the summer he wandered all day long through the sunny, surrounding lawns and slopes stretching south, to where the eyes could reach from the very factory walls.

In these same swamp lawns went out two slit chambers, which ended our workshop, and which participated in the technological process. They represented long, meters of 70-100, corridors equipped with a wide railroad. They began at the end of the workshop and went further below its foundation already underground.
The forms poured with the solution entered the right chamber, and smoothly extended to its very end, where they were subjected to temperature treatment. In the very end of the building, they were thrown into a corridor parallel to this, in which they were cooled, slowly returned, and flooded into the workshop from the left gap. But this was the case after the workshop was launched, and then just two parallel dark and terrible black tunnels went underground.

It was autumn, and the rain came. The rain continued throughout the weekend, and on Monday morning, when we jumped out of the guard, we found that almost all the lowlands around the plant had been flooded. We went to the shop, Mowgli did not meet us.
On our scream: Mowgli! We heard a whispering voice: “Mau! from the opposite side of the cage. Assuming that he was stuck somewhere, or he was caught with something, he rushed to help.

He stopped whispering only when he saw us and we saw him, 20 meters away. Maugli walked around the sloping pandus leading to the slit chambers, dissolving the vertically torching tail. He obviously wanted to tell us something.
As we approached, we understood exactly what. Against the entrance to the right chamber, right in the middle, carefully folded, lay a bunch of mice. About a dozen. We looked from above. I had thought that they were rats, they were healthy, each of them three or four spiders in size, but their mouths were rounded, not rats. Maugli jumped down to the trophy bunch, made a ritual circle around it, jumped back to us again, and after receiving merited praise from each one, led us to the left chamber. You probably guessed, and right. Exactly the same, carefully folded bunch, and the same was waiting for us in the middle.

So what seems to be amazing here? Cats have always caught mice—pure instincts. But when you think about it, you will find the magnitude of what happened. It is as if you were defending the whole night against two dozen giant toothed and mad from a sudden flood of wolves, not forgetting at the same time to carefully fold the corpses in pits to dignified report afterwards, realizing at the same time what you have done the necessary and important work.
Mowgli lived with us for five years, not appearing in the summer for a few days, then weeks and once did not come back at all. Probably married.

I went back into the garage and asked my son to help me and tell me when I would get to the wall. After I heard “Bam!The son said to me, “It’s exactly 17:45.”