by Sensei-ni-ray

When I was 5 years old, I was already the punishment of my family. The recidivist. A persistent denial. Expelled from kindergarten for honor and sexual abuse. Leaving me was not with anyone running away. My grandmother didn’t let me go to the threshold. It was after I put her rafts on. Well put in the closet, there is a warehouse of stools. I took the list and added clothes from the inside. Flegmatic and crowded Sulamif Evseevna as if dressed in a clean - such a jig-dryga roasted - although in the clip shoot. type of this.
The grandmother would shut up the whole composition.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2v8IgJdsm4

The "strong hand" that loved ones passionately dreamed of appeared from where they did not expect.

My mother was in Lithuania in Sevastopol. This is similar to the pre-Internet era. A collection of graffiti. Among the unrecognized geniuses and urban madmen (the main audience of such assemblies) suddenly appeared KGBshnik Kruglov. The cat pulled on the servant's blade for the beautiful. As it turned out later, he had quite unpleasant circumstances for this, but who knew about it then. Therefore, the penetration into their warm corner of the representative of the organs was perceived by creative intellectuals predictably evil.
With puzzles and laughs. The round, externally reminiscent of a oak closet, only added a theme for the undercover.
First, he said from the threshold that he is now not a major, but a poet.
People are flying.
Pulling through the passages in tears, literary fools recalled the story of Panteleyev about a young helicopter. The “honest word.”
And they concluded that from the post of a poet can remove a military in the rank not lower than a major. Or a sniper.
The circle was not overtaken. For him, the opinion of the officer did not mean much.
Arriving on the podium, the major with the proletarian directness rubanul that every poet must solve for himself one task: under whom to write? Under Pushkin or under Mayakovsky?
I said cut. The intellectuals were once again falling under the chairs.
My mother, hardly possessing herself among the confused crowd, humbly noticed that
Writing, you have to go under. Then she made a round gesture with both hands, as if trying to embrace an invisible pillar.
And to buried. It is written. under itself. and deeper.
From the literary dispute, the public scattered, holding onto the stomach, shaking and coughing.

At home, my mom shared a good news with my daddy.

What is his name? asked his father.
The Rounds.
He is a very serious man, Light. If desired, he can arrange a large armor.
Let’s go, he’s so funny.
- He is afraid even in the rainbow-colourless tone replied the father. He is a murderer. And with great connections.

A few days later, a sabotage occurred in the family. What they celebrated. In the midst of the fun there was a bell at the door. Mommy went to open and cried: in the door because of the huge bouquet of roses looked like a drink in the state.
Why are you here with me? he calmly walked through the entrance.
Pope appreciated the gesture.
Come in. Will you drink?
I will. I brought it. In the second hand hanged between the fingers three bottles of the 25-year-old "Ararat"

And here the circle gave the show. As a poet, he may not shine, but in the world championship for the title of "Best Tamada" would surely sit in the jury.
He broke the table. The guests slipped on the floor, cried, whirled, spilled and beat their heads at the servette. I was 5 years old and I still remember that concert. A genius presentation. Kruglov, with the appearance of a villager, told how the simple guys see the sword and shield of the opponents. Looking at the dissident.
The storyteller himself did not shake his face, did not raise his voice, but every passage of it threw intellectuals to the floor.

I remember his story as the brother of the director of SEVMORZAVODA (a regime enterprise) built an intercontinental ballistic missile on the country. And asked the director to notify the competent authorities about his accomplishment, i.e. the Americans, at an unequal hour.

The director has a brain. On the one hand, he guessed that the doctors were competent in this matter, and not the Navy Headquarters and the Reich of the Party, to which his brother sent the good news.
but.
My native brother. From childhood he was a handcuff. What the fucking joke? In addition, the Collectivist army did not have anything to do. And tanks and planes and no one dragged them into the shit. And the brother out of the rocket smashed - what was he right on the rope?! In addition, rumors will go that the director has all his family with a bullet in the head. Who needs it?
Solomon decided to consult.
He called acquainted directors and invited them to the reception commission. Either missiles on combat duty, or a brother in a fool.
The interlocutors asked for a long time, stumbled, tried to find out what kind of jokes were, then, pressing the rust, agreed.
The City Board of Directors asks. A sin to refuse.

Cries and laughing, a crowd of responsible workers fell out of personal cars. I went to Dacia. The settlement proudly threatened the creation of the Sevastopol Left. In the middle of the courtyard shone a 10-meter dural rocket. Nearby, with a kiwi in his mosaic hands, the creator blasted. His whole figure radiated a mixture of humility and pride. It was clear at first glance that he owes his achievement not only to himself, but also to the leading role of the Party and the Government, to the Komsomol, to the entire Soviet people and personally to Leonid Ilyich.
The commission froze in silent admiration, dragging the beads into the zenith.
Kruglov, who was called to watch, was monitoring the behavior of the director. He looked in the eyes of the main designers.
Military C.B., trying to figure out who is still Colka - a genius or a fucker? (At this point, the storyteller very reliably depicted the expression of the director’s face. The public is out.) The designers looked away and stumbled in shirts.
The pause was delayed.
Tired of waiting for a scroll of admiration, the creator broke the silence with a goat tenor:
And that’s all with these hands! by Sam! He stretched his hands to the commission. The commission was frightened.
A knife and a knife! by their means! (Hit on the last slang) The self-normalizer, the self-stylist, the slander himself! All by itself!Schizophrenia before the retrospective. You, docents-academics, take a rocket, or the Americans are already snoring around...
One of the experts came out of the stupa and looked under the stupa.
Where is the engine?
Put the dick and it will fly!
Block of guidance?
A dick and it will come!
And the warheads?
Fuck it and fuck it!

The commission broke. From the designer's day, the voia was ripped out and on the barracks, pushing each other with wise barracks into the hanging back.Like the listeners at home.

In the midst of the fun, the circles went out to the kitchen. He pulled a flag out of his jacket. Drank and drank. and repeated. I turned around. Another colourful man.
Go down here. Sit on.
the village.
See also. Going through the jungle. (I understood at that moment. The dead man is drunk. That didn’t make it less interesting.)
There the avant-garde (Kruglov in Chapaevsky depicted the squadron with sweets) - here the main squadron (the drinks went to work) - side protection, rear protection. The pursuit behind us. Your actions?
to run!
Not the option. They are local, they have dogs.
Give them the cat.
and hm. and fresh. We had no cats in the bag. and traces. Cats are not dressed in kirzachi.
to shoot?
He also does not ride. They are more.
What to do?
See also. The rear squad is left in shelter. They have cranes, but they keep the pursuit. And the rest - he moved a few candy back in the bow, on the winded side, from the back to the side - they extinguish them together!
Are there our own?
Who is?! to
Well these! You won’t know in the jungle.
Remember, the major answered very seriously, “In the jungle there are no of us!”
...

We gathered together families. Brothers and grandparents went hunting. They took me. At the fire, the circle turned to his father.
- Semenych, you would give it to me for education. Or you don’t go with him. Dad thought about. for half a second.
Take it!! to
So I got the “uncle” of the old regime. He entered the barracks. Compression, turnik, hardening and discipline. A harsh army life.Hear what is not so - "push the earth!" Kruglov picked me up in the morning and brought me back in the evening in the middle of the sea. Strangely enough, I liked it.
The circles of all the boys in the courtyard (we lived nearby) an indisputable authority. What he did in the tournament, it had to be seen!
I was struck by the glory of the circle. The trouble with the gardens is gone. The circles never came in.
His politician is himself, all himself.
Why is the face in the blue?
Pleased at school.
Couldn’t give up?
I was given a delivery...
and rational. But it cannot be left so. The turn should be harder. The vengeance. Report the results.
It is! Allow the run!
I allow. You’ll be joking when the commander allows. and ferstine?
The fucking!

I still remember his vows. There was a whole philosophy of life. Completely incompatible with the "Moral Image of the Builder of Communism", but also far from criminality.
Some of his sentences:
You can only show nobleness until the first splash. The most rational behavior in a fight is the most sinister. A very important psychological moment. You can cry, humiliate yourself, fall on your knees. Be careful, they won’t take you seriously. And from knee to mouth beating is easier. I understood?
and yes.
What is Yes? We start training.
to argue?
Cry out of fear, fall on your knees and sharply beat the pair.
1st
2nd
Three
Not that. You make a wild face at the moment of falling – he may have time to jump away. And you will catch a cup from your feet standing on your knees.
4 is
5 is
6 is
or :
I saw a knife run. No stands or receptions. He suddenly turned his face. Remember to!! There is no acceptance against the knife!!! Run to the first brick. Throwing in the buttocks and again the legs!

What is cloudy? and red. In love with something?
Eeee...
Flowers at her party. And carry a wallet.
They will laugh!
What does it matter to you about them?
...
How did it work?
and no.
It happens. There are a lot of good babies, you don’t overwhelm them all.
No, what to do?! to
to suffer!! to

Kruglov was a convinced anti-Semite of the Darwinian direction. He believed that if you were determined to be born a Jew, you simply ought to be the smartest of all.

Remember, high school is for fools! And your only rating in this setting is FIVE!
Four means you’re a good fool. of quality. The kind. I understood? What do you have here? Three?!! to
All of. Deported by. Rain from here. Until you fix it, I won’t let it go!
All of it!!! to
I forgive the song.
At that time, the threat of ostracism was the most frightening.

For two years Kruglov was sitting in Sydney at home. I didn’t need anything, but I didn’t go to work. Then I understood why. Then he began to disappear. I went to judo. A familiar coach. The coach praised him first. I don’t remember anything like this with Protopov never again, for centuries and centuries.

The mayor was not a month old. He returned heavily burned. Then he disappeared for three months. He was treated for an exotic fever. Then he left again, wounded. Then he left and did not return. I came as if the apartment was sealed.

I missed him very much. So far.

A few years later, Daddy told me his story. He shot his son. A year before meeting in Simferopol. The guy was prepared for all 100, knew everything, but there are no techniques against the knife in the back. My wife killed herself.
The killer was not found.
More precisely, someone knew there were children of the regional chief, and nobody wanted to ruin their career.
Seven months after the funeral, four representatives of the “golden youth” disappeared in one day. They just left the house and did not return. Kruglov, of course, had a iron alibi. Not those people taught him that his garbage could be caught. But “where to” all understood correctly. He was removed from work for two years. Then returned-specifics of this level will always refute.

This is what I understood later. He’s just shuffled when he just performed them...this is the exhaust.