Once, at the reception, a patient told me such a story. She had a grandmother who in her youth was a partisan in the forests of Belarus. One day she was surrounded by a group. Almost everyone in the battle was shot, and the grandmother (at that time a young girl) was taken captive. Apparently, the Germans counted on the fact that they could get a lot of valuable info from the young saboteur. It was at night, they were locked in the barracks and the guard was put out in the amount of one Fritz. At some point, the supervisor decided that the Russian freelancer was quite suitable for the realization of his long-standing sexual fantasies and, on the rights of the winner, decided to master it. In one word, the phosphid did it... But the grandmother was not of the weak nerves. Using the fact that Fritz at the height of orgasm lost all control over himself, the young guerrilla caught removed a knife from his belt and made several super-complete holes in his body. Bringing Hansa to the dead state and thus paying the debt to the Motherland and to others personally. For Stalin, the girl left the location of the German part (having captured, of course, the trophy shamer) and hid in her native forest.

At the end of her story, the patient said, “So my grandmother killed my grandfather.”