The repair. The Dinner. Throw away old furniture. They dropped their two books from the 8th floor. Add 200 meters to the garbage. I smoked, and my brother with the words "Bobble Run!", dropped the closet to the side and started pushing to the trash. On the street, the fridge, the Soviet closet, painted - slips well. The brother has already acquired decent speed, the late passers rush away from him, the brother hides behind the corner of the house... And here I realize that the time has come: I throw a cigarette, and with the screams "Hold the thief!!!" and "Return the closet, fuck!!"I’m going to follow him. Whoever has helped (