Scream #02 29 января 2002

Самиздат

Sweet - DRAMA13.

| DRAMA13
| Kreestah = skr
| Zch.lo.zool, Doha, I was drunk, sorry for the matrix and the 
error 


"Everybody, everybody! Everything Sucks, Everything Sucks!" 
Everything sucks lemon, lemon Everything Sucks! "Yesterday I 
woke up sucking a lemon, yesterday I was trying to say!" - He 
wrote, carefully shaking his head, occasionally lifting up his 
eyebrows and lowering his eyes. 

 - John, Brazil, who do I see?
 - A, Simon ... Hi-t ...
 - Braz, what's the matter? Hey, as Che's that on your cheek?
 - Bah! Bitch you, Sim himself drunk in a pixel, and I did not 
even 

   invited ... Shit, even dvuchir called ...
 - Braz, well, you know, there is such a thing ...
 - Harp on the same string to me here - BrAZ, Brazil! Suck 
members, bitch!  - Do you?


A friendly skirmish began to turn into a riot now
fantasies, and the guys decided to end will end.

So the morning. Waking up in his bed, John felt the juicy smell 
of sweat ... This smell to it that it is similar to ... 
"Blyaaaa, exactly!" - Cried to myself, John. He remembered that 
felt exactly the same smell in the tent, in the spring, when 
they traveled with a group hike. But who is with him then was 
in a tent? 

 - Brazaaa ... - Barely audible in a dream prosopel Simon.

"Blyayaaaaaa sukaaaa !!!", - John could not believe that has 
been in third time he has bought into the ploy of Shem, 
kotoroya watered it, and how always dragged into the bed. "What 
a bitch this sim, it just 16, and whom he will be in 19, 25, 
50? "- An idealist at heart John could not leave without 
thinking tonight. 

<...>

 - A, Sim? Come on.
 - Hey, brother, what are you doing?
 - Oh, story writing ...

John did not want to tell the intruders on his spiritual 
experiences, and hid the pain deep in the inside pocket. 

 - Bitch, well, suck that, if what you silent?
 - Bro, this thing ...

Sim abruptly pulled out a pistol and pointed it at exactly the 
left temple. They heard a shot. Thud hitting the floor of the 
body. Blood trickle flowed down on the table, small droplets 
leaked drawer ... Melting of rusty black iron outline of the 
book, she shrank small droplets were crowded in the square, 
approximately equal to a matchbox and Narova penetrate deep 
into the book. 

 - Braz, because I loved you ... Braz, because you only had 
three    eleven ... John, John ... John Boy, what dick? Johnny


   Boy, why you left me? Johnny ... - Only rare

   sobs could be heard from behind pushed the curtains.

Sim glanced at the desk of John. There, as usual, was
mess, piles of papers, a variety of written
supplies, perhaps a dozen album pages, and only exactly in the 
middle of the table was a large red book. Sim gently picked up 
the book, turned in his hands and tears dropped back to table.


On the cover in red letters were written: "DRAMA13.