Epiphany on the grave plate:
“Sleep peacefully, my dear friend.
The facts have not been confirmed.”

I was offered a job - to sell for a forest trade shop in one of the district centers. Far away, but in Soviet times, it was possible to settle in such a place only on a very large mud. When I first saw a warehouse where I had to make money, I was struck by a huge black mountain in the middle of the courtyard. On all the slopes of the mountain there was a liquid growth of ambrosia, cycoria and shrubs. Apparently the soil was not the most suitable for dendrarium. Indeed, the earth was too acidic, for it was not the earth at all, but a three hundred tons of coal, which was accumulated for years and was not demanded by the population. Coal has always been a special consideration for our state, and everyone was monitoring its implementation. The store provided a list of all residents of the area. Two tons of strategic fuel were delivered to each yard. When selling, it was strictly necessary to write out a bill, where the name of the buyer, his home address, the amount issued, the price and the amount were indicated. But the sale of only large coal, AK brands (Anthracite large) and AO (Anthracite nuts) was limited.
In much larger quantities, very fine coal of the brand AS (seed antracite) was sold. Too small coal tightly clogged the oven balls and did not burn. This is the seed of this mountain.
There were no restrictions on the sale of coal.
In short, the shit for the native people was not a pity to the rulers. Everyone could buy as much as they wanted, however, when selling this same shit, it was necessary to write out the billboard.
In general, this coal can be used in boilers, where the traction is achieved by inflating, but it was strictly prohibited to sell to organizations.
At first, I got used to the situation and people. The plan was carried out calmly, certain thoughts about the coal mountain, I had already begun. It wasn’t that I wanted to go to jail. This huge, unspoiled mountain became my personal enemy. With her legs and legs, she occupied almost half the territory. There was nowhere to store the pile. The trucks, unfolding, increasingly scattered this coal powder through the yard. In the dry windy weather in the mouth felt a sour, disgusting taste, in the rain, buyers threw boards on this black grass and melted on them. The boards became black and nobody wanted to buy them.
One day the boss came from the office and told me that due to the fault of two shops, Ripo did not perform the plan. Very asked to try to give more revenue, to block the underperformance of the plan.
My plan was ripe for a long time and I decided to take a risk. I went to one of the collective farms, with whose chairman I had a good relationship, and offered to buy for their boiler a well-known mountain of coal for cash. He expressed confidence that they would put us both on board. I swore that I would never give the address where the coal went.
The next day, the excavator and two Kamazs hired from the side began to vigorously deal with the hostile crowd.
Revenue for the rescue of the plan was, but to deliver it to the box office it was necessary to write a mountain of bills, indicating that coal was sold to the population. I did not have to sleep at night. At first, he easily remembered the surnames of familiar peasants, their addresses and "left" them two or three tons.
Further, they had to come up with the names and addresses of the villages and houths of the nearest regions of the region. He invented, wrote, recounted the sums and materials of those idiots who invented this foolish nonsense. Well, why when selling a millionth range of other goods, there is no need to ask buyers about their names and home addresses? This is not the coal that was distributed in the executive committees by special lists that were approved in the district committees. These foolish papers are squeezed into thick accounting books and sent to the archive. Never, in any weather, nobody will even think of reading this nonsense, or even just browsing. The only thing they will do is check the amounts in the consolidated registers.
At two o’clock in the night, I had completely exhausted the remnants of my imagination, and I had already wanted to wash away from anger. And suddenly came the simple idea of how to quickly finish this tortuous “martyškin work.” I started writing the names of all known celebrities and greatly expanded the geography of my sales. The first such "buyer" of non-liquid coal was a citizen
Pugacheva A. B. She took her three tons directly to Moscow, somewhere in the country.
The Sabbath. Nona Gavrindashvili went on a Kamaz with coal in Tbilisi to the Cereteli Avenue. Anatoly Karpov delighted his parents, who lived in the distant Zlatoust. I don't know if there were any complications.
Sheremetyevo has Viktor Korchny, but the vice champion of the world in chess his three tons of coal risked to take to Switzerland, Zurich.
The former Soviet chess player was the only foreign buyer. There were enough Soviet artists, athletes, prominent political and public figures. When it began to shine, I had already subdued the amounts, wrote a compiled register, and with a sense of a profoundly fulfilled duty went to the accounting office with revenues and documents to them. As usual, they checked the amount in the register with revenue, and received the joyful news that the quarterly implementation plan was completed and that the population unexpectedly bought up the whole bunch of "seeds".
This flashy sale of three hundred tons of non-liquid shit looked very suspicious. I replied that I told all the visitors that this year due to frequent accidents in the Donbass, there would be no coal receipts at all. The people, allegedly, were scared of the shit that was. In our country, everyone is accustomed to the fact that such rumors are always 100% confirmed.
The store area is clean and spacious. All boards were placed in the headquarters. Working has become more enjoyable and it has become easier to keep records.
Two years later, when I retired for a long time and left the station, I was suddenly called to the accounting office of the selpo. When I came there, all the women looked at me like a deadly sick person. It turns out that the CRU was doing a planned inspection and someone, by chance, opened the sewing with the stamps two years ago and a "document" came to the eye, confirming the fact of selling coal to a citizen Gavrindashvili, who lives in the capital of Georgia. It became interesting. They read the rest of the papers and, joyfully rubbing the palms wrapped with numerous bribes, gently asked for explanations. The new, by that time, chairman of Selpo had nothing but to call me for explanations. The question was specifically
Where do I do coal? I replied that if the old bills were accidentally preserved in the accounting, then you can, by looking at them, find out who and how much it was sold. On the echoing question, where in the station appeared so many celebrities in need of chernobyl coal, I had to explain that in the face I know few people, and the names and addresses written in the billboards from the words of the buyers. Even if I had doubts about the authenticity of the data, I did not have the right to demand a passport. So, if there was a need to verify the facts of the sale to these persons, apparently, you need to call all suspicious buyers into this office and demand an explanation from them. For me personally, it doesn’t matter who buys bread and fireworks, clothes, shoes, coal. In order to avoid such questions, it is necessary to prepare and give to all shops of the country lists of all citizens who are allowed to buy non-liquid goods.
The men were surprised to open their mouths. Apparently, they rarely had to listen to the sharp basics of legal liquidation, the first commandment of which is the rule – confession mitigates guilt, and non-recognition releases from responsibility.