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Six weeks without a weekend. Sunday - after another hysteria of the customer requiring "everything to rework" we sit and rework. In the background, it revolves "Formula-1". The phone ringing, the counters, hidden in the drawings by the ears, presses the loud communication (the tube we broke in the customer's first hysteria) and with a juicy horrifying grave voice gives:
Talk to the worm.
From the phone comes a whisper, a nervous laugh and a quiet voice of the customer:
I call P P P P P P P P P P P P P.