I live alone. I returned from a trip, opened the refrigerator and immediately in my head appeared the plot of ultra-pasteurized milk advertising.

A young man in an air shape enters the door of the apartment and begins to call Masha, the type, he is me, returned from the army. There is no machine. The guy starts walking around the rooms but only discovers dust and desolation. He goes into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. There is a bunch of cluttered products and a package of ultra-pasteurized milk. The boy gets milk, poured into a bowl. He smells and drinks pleasantly. Next is the slogan: "trade mark* not Masha, *trade mark* will wait"