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08.11.2011
Ilya Muromets
Twenty-five years have passed, and I remember everything and do not cease to surprise one strange person by the name of Pototsky.
The case was so...
Pskov region, training of the air defense.
Since the USSR had not yet collapsed at that time, we in the barracks in all its glory found the overwhelming friendship of brotherly peoples, but the main problems arose in us because of the Uzbek. There were thirty people in our company, hence problems, well as problems... they gathered in bulk and regularly beat us and of course we had problems from this...
The Georgians held on to each other, the Cossacks also did not let themselves bother, but for us Russian-Ukro-Belarus, there was no one to stand by. We did not need anyone, not even ourselves, and we suffered regular raids from Tamerlan’s troops.
The greatest thing we could exhibit was a man ten (the rest of our soldiers had urgent affairs...) This was not an epic battle, but a proof of the advantages of the Middle Asian way of life.
But now, a month and a half later, He appeared on the threshold of our barracks.
The height is not high, but two meters in it, of course, was maybe a little more.
The head is huge like a horse, blushes out and if you turn away and look from a distance, it seems to be small and thin in proportions, but as soon as an ordinary person approached him, it became clear from their combination that in this life, it is not yet clear to us.
He was born in a deaf Belarusian village and carried a proud surname.
by Potocki.
By nature, he was a gentle and shy man, and this is not surprising, because otherwise some loving Croomanon would not dare to approach the Neanderthal - our distant ancestor.
by the female line.
Pototsky for some reason panically feared any superiors, even sergeants, he was a slow and quite non-sporty person, but with a weight of two hundred kilograms and strength, like a swing - this was absolutely not his problem.
The commander of the unit, called our company the Banderov squadron. Imagine yourself
- a company of soldiers, behind which a giant man marches dressed in a black Zekov shirt, gray pants, on the head a small tube in the form of a soldier hat, and on the legs boots with cut back legs. Of all the necessary uniforms, there was only a hat and a fourteen-eighth-size shirt in the warehouse, and the rest - in which they were taken to the army, in that month three and served, until the ordered Gulliver shirt came from the district.
I don’t know why, but somehow we made friends with him, although at first I was afraid to approach this huge man, I am very ashamed, but I was afraid that he would bite me if he suddenly went crazy. It may seem funny to you, just you haven’t seen Pototsky. But the lion’s trainers will understand me.
The first time he surprised me, the company was getting thick soldier skies for the cross in the warehouse. A few lucky guys did not get enough and they went to the warm barracks to wait for the return of tired ski heroes.
Time pressed, soon for the start, everyone adjusts the attachments and clamps heavy wood to their feet, and Pototsky itches me over my ear with a funny Belarusian speech:
Oh, mommy, oh, killing me on these dumb skyscrapers, I’m going to do it.
They are not riding. I will be with me...
Suddenly there was a loud crack behind my back, from which I jumped – it was my huge friend unnoticedly broke his ski in half, just holding it with handles set next to him. I tried then to break such a wool on my knee, no, I couldn’t.
Time went by sooner or later, but Pototsky had to rush to the Tamerlan army of thirty swords.
And that day came.
The Lunch. Our ruler rose from the edge of the table and usually held the bowl at the bottom, like a dish (so it was more convenient for him), opposite Pototsky was a fierce Uzbek - the chief bowl and the commander of their troops. Butterfly decided –
He grabbed the shark and began to shake it in front of the enormous benevolent face of the Belarusian, shouting all sorts of Turkish insults.
The giant silenced, lowered his eyes and silently continued to eat. Here, the bastard, pleased with the effect produced, put off the pumpkin and also returned to the table.
Suddenly (although the word “suddenly” was not invented for dinosaurs) Pototsky grabbed the moment and gave the Uzbek father’s lust.
Batyr, without even rattling, fell his face into the plate, sprinkling the soup of everyone at the table.
The screams! The noise! The threats! The landlords took the body of the batari to the street, only there to him the consciousness returned.
I, like all the Russo-Belarus Ukrainians of our company, understood that we had to live approximately until dinner, and the hell with him, not for the first time, but what kind of lust is this, from which man completely turns off?
And Pototsky once again demonstrated this focus on the soldier’s dish, here everything came to its place. After licking down the bottom, the dish lost symmetry forever and became unstable, as if the truck had gone by.
In the evening we sat in the semi-empty barracks and talked quietly. The air smelled blood, and the sensations are disgusting - you will not understand if it is hot for you, if it is cold. Terrible in one word.
Funny and careless was only the miracle of the rich man and he talked without hesitation about various civil nonsense. I tried to bring him back to our sinful Tatar-Mongol land:
The Uzbek will come to beat you. We four together. must
To prepare somehow...
- And what is there prepared, as they come, so they are filled with foxes, like a sunset.
In the dining room. I, by the way, often struggle at home with the dwarf on the dwarf. Oh and substance.
has been. A dwarf will come to me, will give a dayog and I will go with them to lump.
The dark dwarf. And then, on the contrary, they gathered the money, they paid me and we.
Let’s take the first...
There was no more fun than this sacred story. Apparently our Banderovets did not quite imagine the insidious Asians in the number of thirty pieces.
That is all.
Through the woods of beds we saw the enemy army. The Uzbeks stood in the central passage and cried out:
“Patoski, get out of the chacal, we’ll kill you!
Pototsky got up from the table and headed toward them with difficulty crawling between the beds.
We all four stood up and stumbled after him.
White looked around and asked with a smile:
You are where, are you? Shut up here, I will not accidentally catch you. Shielded
by Gavara!
We obediently sat down, and then the live pictures of Russian epic stories began.
Ilya Muromets approached the evil army and said:
Are the Russians not Russians?
The most powerful Chelubey barely reached Muromza's nose to the belt.
And then it began – all thirty busurman with a hikan rushed to Bogatyri from all sides, trying to shake him. To the face, of course, nobody could get, so their Asian fists comfortably ticked the rich man in a huge stomach like a pillow.
The wildest thing is that Pototsky laughed. He had fun!
The situation became pathetic, Muromets not only did not beat them, but did not even take them seriously, and the whispering army of Batya unsuccessfully crushed the hero, as if preschoolers were fighting with their playful father.
Eventually, Pototsky got bored and he decided to get rid of these giant bees. The richer grabbed the enemies by the belts, carefully ripped off the floor and threw away a meter by two. Immediately two. At the same time, he cheered happily and commented:
You are comforting, like little children. Fly now, playground and will be...
The Busurman army came into confusion, for the first time in their life their fierce battle turned into a battle.
Here, one of them remembered the belt, turned around and got the wealthy strap to the face.
Pototsky issued a roar like from the night jungle, sharply grabbed the offender out of the crowd and only now, including all his beastly fool, with two hands threw him vertically up. Uzbek with a deaf blow met with the high barracks ceiling and sinked down along with the broken daylight lamps.
Pototsky, like a circus lion, breaking into the audiences, sowed panic and destruction. The angry enemies instantly turned into penguins, who fell from the helicopter. Pototsky wanted to destroy everyone, but, fortunately, he did not catch anyone.
A few seconds later, the cabin was empty. One impressive Uzbek, even dropped the taburet and tried to jump out behind it into a broken window.
Muromets returned to our corner, we slightly strained (the hell knows him like the Neanderthals with a brake...) He sat on his table, touched the swollen lip and said:
- Oh, I'm overworked, I'm afraid that the Churks will still put me on the sergeants.
Guys, maybe someone has a glimpse of their face?