The Third World War began.
The last working satellite was shot down, all optical cables were broken by nuclear explosions. All kinds of diathletes covered up, because there are no fools carrying packages on radioactive mine fields under artillery.
And only in the office of the Russian Post every day, at 9:00, their employees come to work. After 30 years on the salary of 6000 they no longer fear anything:
"Well what, you fuck up, you fuck up? Has your internet broken? Well, go, fill out the receipt, pay the commission! Do you have a package with Banderol? The Banderol? We don’t take banana on Wednesday. We have lunch in 15 minutes!"