to this:
We go out at night with a guy of guests on foot, empty streets, romance, kisses, all that. We see - near the passage on the boulevard, a man walks there and there, apparently, waiting for someone. He is a young man, forty or fifty years old, in a suit, a shirt, a tie. We pass by - he runs, covers us with a wave of garlic and to the guy, hopefully so, he says: "Young man, you, by chance, do not want to fight?" - "No, I don't want O_o" - "Sorry, very sorry". He turns, breathes, goes back.
What was it?
— — —
This is the homework of the fighting club.