Nicron #64 27 ноября 1997

Самиздат

Humor - Stories from the "Momara.

                     New Hero Momara "


        It was five o'clock ...

(C) Other Authors


  ... It was once five o'clock. "Why not tomorrow?" - Sluggish 
thinking friend of the author saw in the 5 th issue of 
"Momar"-a familiar category. But it was, alas, it was five 
o'clock, and the other authors began to think, and whether it 
is time he must, that is to send foot in the house. Outside the 
window sharply rang the bell in the belfry the little church, 
which, together with the bell tower barely reach to the level 
of the third floor. A moment later the bells was crushed and 
defeated fierce siren blue-dirty "Volvo", which, of course, no 
one tried to hijack, just, probably, the machine is thus 
calling his host: "Is not it time we must go, huh? ". But, 
alas, was not time, or more precisely, it was time not at all. 
It was that friend of the author saw a familiar category has 
the fifth issue of "Momar" Ah, but in only one piece the fifth 
edition of "Momar"-a. Other leaflets over and over again (this 
contagion, huh?) Slowly crept out of the mouth buzzing imaging 
apparatus, and the end they did not have, rather, it was not 
visible. Instead, the room smelled of obsessive-level ozone. 
Friend of the author went to the window and opened it. From the 
street smelled nice evening smog Moscow Center. Each author has 
decided to howling open wider, but changed his mind because the 
street was disgusting "Volvo". Then is the opposite - friend of 
the author decided it was, and "Volvo" - howled. And so if not 
accurately, then the circle was a Friend of the Author's head. 
That is also vice versa. But either way, but at the very moment 
a friend Author in his hand was a sheet on which the friend of 
the author saw a very suspicious date: August 24, 1997, 5:00 
am. And no less suspicious indication of the place: "The bench 
near the Winter." "Something's wrong here" - thought Another 
author, and in confirmation of his thoughts the door opened 
with a creak. "$% # LIMITED Draught" - thought Another author, 
but I probably thought too loudly, because the draft said: "The 
very one!". Other Authors at once learned author's voice and 
realized that if he and the draft, something quite even then 
there are even quite good. Each author would like to ask 
carefully, very carefully - is it true that five o'clock was 
just twenty-fourth day of August, and is it true that it was on 
the bench near the Winter Palace ... Oh, this place really more 
so this time it was a familiar friend of the author - he was 
there at a time, and - should be the same! - It is in the wrong 
place ... Although the place is, of course, was there by 
itself, it has always been there, Unlike other authors who 
arrived there just two day, and - again have the same! - Just 
for one night ... But instead of clear, as a team "format", 
formulated the question, other authors began to choked bleat 
some nasopharyngeal sounds: "E. .. uh ... H-H-H ...". Finally, 
meeting with the spirit (in the sense of air in lung), other 
authors concluded the same phrase: "... light!". "What are you 
doing laesh at me? "- kindly asked author and selected by other 
authors still warm svezhenapechatanny leaf." I'm not barking - 
mumbled Other authors. - I have been there! "." They were all 
"- again, gently said the author. "I was not alone!" - Tried to 
protect each Author. "It was not alone," - he smiled even wider 
Author. "We also look at the bridges go! - Attempted to justify 
the other authors. - After the first day of the Enlight-a 'and 
drinking beer, too!". And then friend of the author stopped. 
The last phrase in no case should not pronounce! After all, now 
author, of course, says: "All drank!". And raspolzetsya a smile 
to the tips ears! Here is this absolutely could not tolerate 
... Other Authors belatedly realized that, he stopped at the 
words "... after the first day of the Enlight-a" Author 
response could not say "me too", and then out of it could shake 
the soul, guts and all other large and small bills ... In fact, 
friend of the author was not bloodthirsty, and therefore, 
thinking such a terrible idea, as "shake" He blushed with 
shame. "What's wrong?" - Not gently, and screamed in terror and 
author on the safe side pushed closer spare chair, a friend of 
the author was to fall gently. "I'm bad? - Consistently (via 
RS-232C) interviewed system of the organism by other authors. - 
And it's an idea! At least I'll have a few minutes to think 
about. "Oof-f-r ... Friend of the author reached into his 
pocket for validol and, oddly enough, found him there. 
Extracting a single pill, other authors reached for a carafe of 
water to the pill, therefore, drink. Carafe and even more so 
with the water here in life was not, but the friend of the 
author For some reason it felt and took it. But it was the 
toner cartridge for the copier. Each author set to balloon

Hit and then realized that validol something and there is no 
need to wash down his placed under the tongue and wait and 
enjoy. He did. Enjoy for a long time did not have - a nasty 
bitterness quickly spread to the senses, shading and a smell of 
ozone, and the howling of "Volvo". The tablet was analgin. "Too 
bad" - other people will think Author. Analgin was very helpful 
- a headache frisky hit on the run. "Enlight - a festival of 
this" - calmly and clearly said the other author. And he added, 
that was understandable: "... Computer art." And that was 
really quite clear, not understand why (well, as it is not 
clear - it is clear: to be clearer) gave the most compelling 
argument: "Speccy - rulezzz !!!". But then whether the author 
is not understood, or, conversely, saw too much, but clutching 
his left hand for a spare chair, while nonetheless sat down by 
him, and right - for the bottle toner for copiers, author 
slowly settled to the floor, frantically turning a blind eye 
... Toner gently flowed from an inverted bottle in the face of 
the Author, and he remembered evident, warm August night, 
whispered to himself: "Beer !...". "Beer blocked the road ..." 
- Suddenly for no reason, no reason at all suddenly remembered 
another author. But time was already remembers how dear reader, 
five o'clock, so not to draw attention no matter what, which 
blocked the way for beer no matter what, when and where it was 
five o'clock in the morning August the twenty-fourth and 
ninety-seven years on the bench to the left of Hermitage, the 
author and other writers converged on a brilliant idea that all 
available on the coincidence of names, names, dates, names, 
geographic names are random, unintended, and generally they 
(the author and other authors) has nothing to do with it. Here 
as times (that's an infection, yes?) copier has completed 
printing fifth edition number "Momar"-a. Other Authors shook 
off the remnants of a rotten mood, and the author - the remains 
of toner, and the two of them together out on the street. The 
author drew from his pocket stick, pressed click on it, and the 
blue-dirty "Volvo" shut up. Author sat down in it and went 
home. Other Authors walked to the subway wincing at every blow 
a little bell in the belfry churches, which is the bottom did 
not seem as too little. And the author, and other writers were 
driving home and thought each of his, but both of them was 
amazing how small after all, our Earth, it is easy to meet her 
friend (and even unknown!) friend in a very another city, but 
at the same time and same place, and sometimes as bizarre fates 
are intertwined events, cities and dates for the match which 
neither the author nor the friend of the author at all desire 
can not be held liable ... Yes, and for the match marks color 
and condition of the car - too. Although GAI - side by side, 
around the corner. But since then that will do without matches, 
okay? Amen. 

              Podeshkindt

(C) Author (Vladislav Volkov)


        It was once
        5:00 am ...

24/08/1997. / 5:00 AM
bench near the Winter



  Once (but not two) Podeshkindt decided to look for
once vodka "Bridges." "And I would not have gone - just thought 
it once it - from the Leningrad station? ".


  And he went. Passed, I should say as much, but just in
most times, seven hundred kilometers (words). And just then he
difficulties are encountered. There were many, but the main 
was, of course, is one: the money, but they were few. "Uh, was 
not once at times do not have to! "- again strongly agreed 
Podeshkindt. Once over and over again (infection) strongly 
overcoming difficulties, it was decided that this time it will 
just be in order. "One! Paz! Li!" - On civil-piercing 
consecutive sounded in his head sonorous echoes of the sound 
scale, temporarily from time to time accompanying his pastime. 

  "When the bridges?" - Over and over again, he thought over 
the same thought. Each time it seemed to him all fresh and 
fresh. "Svezhachok! - Podeshkindta dawned when a piercing hiss 
hiss civil air was trying to break away from narrow zastenkv 
pipe, laid on the bridge. "To Be or Not to Be" - in tense 
silence tacitly tense tense and silent pipe Podeshkindt. 

  With ghoulish, but socially significant civil sounding
wing of the bridge again. Oh! Shlis! ° "It is finished!" - 
Trandybrahnulos was above the crowd. And indeed, 
trandybrahnulos, but strongly was once, and there were two, 
that is, again, yes again, but still half. 

  On time and the flax.
_____________________________________
° time Dvina (else polezesh) were.


      Podeshkindt on Tverskaya



  Hard. How hard. Oh, how hard it is. Yet it was not so hard
Podeshkindtu after yesterday's time vodka "Bridges." Loudly, 
all the way same for the civil-piercing, tapping his head with 
an old moldy pretzel Bo Dong Egypt. And apparently, this 
explains the ensuing painful events. The thing is, that the old 
pretzel Bo knocked Podeshkindta catch butterflies. 

  "How to catch entih most butterflies, and that they then do?" 
- shied away from this question passers-by and traffic lights 
are flushed, and one policeman swallowed the whistle of his 
team-mate. Even the turnstile in the subway, by switching to 
green, he gave three Podeshkindtu tokens. Relying on his 
instinct, Podeshkindt traveled for each Metro line to once per 
round trip, leaving at each stop. And, izdyhaya already under 
the weight of Podeshkindta on Chernyshevskaya instinct wheeze 
was: "What?" What? " (Read: "Who is guilty?") Not so shrill, 
but also in civil, continued brawl moldy pretzel. Podeshkindtu 
became ill - he began to haunt the crowd of soldiers, each with 
three rulers, and horror of horrors, the sailors with Mauser-s. 
"Something's wrong here ...", - with doubt, he hesitated. But 
evil pretzel yelled: "C'mon! C'mon! Yeah !!!". Podeshkindt lost 
consciousness. He woke up on a bench in the Tauride Garden when 
it was getting dark. And in my head, on the contrary, it became 
lighter. 

  Podeshkindt remembered that butterflies, like, shoot. In what
sense: whether the photo, either from the trees, or with lights 
- he did not know. But one thing was sure: he is - on the 
Tverskaya. Seeing one no longer a boy, but obviously not her 
husband, pulling out lamp post, thereby deprived the 
penultimate column, and then the last, signs of the life of 
another is no longer a boy, Podeshkindt decided it's time to 
dump the nose. That's how he got on Tverskaya. But ... the 
street was empty. Everything froze in silence and still said 
nothing, only the ubiquitous policemen in an amount three 
pieces of words, scraps of jackets so fired 9-mm cartridges 
moved by the wind. 

  "A-ah!" They work day to clean-Smolny Institute of noble 
maidens "- a MiG-29 made clear to him. - I, therefore, or not 
to be there. "corner of his eye he saw in the doorways and 
Courtyard some gray shadows that accompanied him, but doubts 
arose. Podeshkindt not worry, because from where it was him 
know that Bo stuffed pretzel doubts pharynx, linking them wild 
hosts. And on the square in front of Smolny raged crowd of some 
dangerous and vicious Benowa decile. All of them are something 
passionately wanted. What - he realized only if broke through 
the discordant cries of someone's tin ("Zheleznyak" - guess 
Podeshkindt) Throat: "Beer-a-ah, larynx zaplyuschit !!!". At 
the gate fussed a short little man in a cap and jacket, trying 
to People calm down. Beer from a peasant was clearly not. 
People's pain, hopes and desire Podeshkindtu were close today, 
as never before. He shouted: "Brothers! Beer at the Winter! 
There's even a Guinness burzhuinsky is! Let's go there! ". ... 
After 9.1 seconds, the square was empty. 

  A little man in a jacket approached him and uttered the 
phrase, with whom Podeshkindta dark eyes, bent his legs and 
sucked in the stomach. Only now he realized that the little man 
was bald - in his cap was specially cut and glassed the hole to

Nobody could oboznatsya. Until now, that phrase Podeshkindta 
pursues his tormented conscience and nightmares. How could he 
know that this phrase will bypass all the history books. Now 
her Everyone knows, however, with cuts (large denomination). 
Come time. It is time to unveil its entirety.


  That little man, with a lisp, said: "The Revolution, the need 
is so often asserted the Bolsheviks, was accomplished thanks to 
you, Comrade! Kartechestvo you will not forget! ".


            *



(R) MDF