A friend of the electrician on the phone tells and cries: - The fatigue of death has returned from the halture. I splashed into the chair, covered my eyes, no forces moved. The grandson runs up with two large steel tablespoons for the soup: “Dad, do you want me to show you the focus?” I opened my eyes, “Let’s go!” Stretch me the spoon - put the cheeks! Well, I, says the whole at rest, without feeling the smell, took them into my mouth, the cheeks were swollen, the handles of the tablespoons rolled forward without touching. And then he hand over the back with a 9-volt battery from his toys, pull me into these upscale ends. I thought I got a squid on the shirt! I barely broke the chair. The shit shit... The fatigue is like the hand removed.