The Trap
I visited a familiar artist.
All the walls in the paintings - wallpapers are not visible.
The theme is mostly of the same type: naked in a blooming garden, naked on the couch, and even naked on the palms of King Kong.
In a word - there was something to see while the owner Sergey was cooking us coffee in the kitchen.
I looked, I see: in the biggest picture (hole, oil) some bullet hole right on the bed of a naked beauty collecting wood...
I ask :
What war was there?
Sergey smiled:
If there was a war with his neighbor, he was killed. It is not what you are.
You think! I am not concerned: it was twenty years ago.
In the neighboring apartment was a new Russian, and in essence - a regular beetle and a bandy.
He initially tried to “build” us all, and mostly “built” us, but he did not cross with me.
One strange Sunday morning, I woke up to the terrible sound of an airplane sitting on a rope paper without wheels.
I go into the room, I see: a patch will roll up on the floor, and from the foot of the “Peasant who gathers sickness,” a huge iron rod with a thick thumbs. The wild sounds vanished, and the stitch rotating sharply, everything came out of the picture.
I didn’t really want to argue with a neighbor – a hungry man, but... injured.
“A peasant who gathers sickness,” she looked at me with contempt and supplication!! to
I knock at the door, the owner from the threshold wanted to send me away, but he cut off, because I, without saying a word, boldly struck him with a finger to me.
He went in, blowing his nose, saw the rod, and apologized. In his words his apology sounded like this: “Hu! Nihera, you’ve got it, but do you want herlies? Styres German, family... I hang a safe on my wall, it must be real - reliable.
Okay, don’t rush, now I’ll go, I’ll pull it out, I’ll cut it five centimeters shorter.”
The confused neighbor went away, looking at his folded fingers, so as not to forget how long the new rod should be.
He came back to himself, grabbed the gas key and let us twist the screw.
He cried, cried and, despite the fact that the man was healthy, he could not. Neither there nor here.
returned to me. He walks in and looks at the sting coming out of the bed:
He seems to be one-time. The fascists made a trap.
short there such a system that it was so scattered in the wall, now back
Not to check. Oh, if it were just a coffin, we’d have it from you.
Okay... Okay, I’ll try again.
After 20 minutes, the bandit, all in soap, came back to me again, touched the hated scissor with a scissor coming out of the bowl and almost crying went back to himself.
The next hour our whole house was shaken by the strikes of the ancient Roman tarantula.
I could not stand it, I went to him.
I see: the man entered a furious rage: he dug his wall around a huge screw, and I must say he achieved great labor indicators: he dug out in iron concrete, a crater of the size of a plate, and this is not counting the incisions from inaccurate hits...
I say :
Okay, I’ll try to get rid of it.
Where are you? Don’t laugh at me, I’m the winner of the USSR championship.
The fight, I did not twist, even the pen in the cuvalde is already swirling, and you are lying down...
And the line is already cut, the key is turned.
Go to me, don’t get angry!
I approached the screw and... didn’t shake it out with empty hands (!)
The neighbor was so upset that he immediately began to apologize absolutely humanly for his repair.
Since then, two years, (until he was shot) he was always at the meeting, the first to say hello to me, and stretched both hands at once. These guys still respect those who are stronger than them.

I say :
Funny story, but how did you get rid of the screw?
with bare hands, if the fighter could not, even with a gas key?
by Sergey:
“And you, Grubas, don’t look at that I’m fifty kilos, I’ve been there since I was a child.
I do sculpture, I mow clay with my fingers, and I pump... a joke.
Get out of the table, do you see a hole in the pillow?
So as soon as the neighbor went to his door to twist the screw, I raised the painting from the rod, clogged this pillow on him, so as not to scratch the wallpaper, and drawn to him deadly sticks.
And when the master florist, all in soap, came back to me, I took the ticks and dropped the painting back onto the rope.