******************** Totally rude! *********************
FROM THE EDITOR: The next part of our Burime began to write
Eduard Gevorkyan. They say he even wrote something more or less funny
they say that he even read this text to a narrow circle of devotees -
nykh at Sibcon. But he never got around to sending us what he had written -
Xia. It's a pity. We hope for the next issue Eduard Vachaganovich
will be in time.
In the meantime, so that you, our readers, do not have any complaints, we offer
We present to you - along with our apologies - a chapter from a fresh new
hosted by Evgeniy LUKIN
THERE, BEHIND ACHERON
In the eighth circle, the amnestied were built under a cliff and after
checks were handed over to the new guard - a black winged demon
nickname Tormoshilo, a gloomy and openly self-motivated creature
distish.
“Whoever lags behind or loses his footing,” he immediately warned,
- I’ll kick on the fifth bridge! Step... arsh!
A column of naked, grimy souls moved along the rocky wall. Boo
the slags on the amnestied burnt while still marching through the city of Dit,
where transparent high-temperature
tour flame.
The gloomy Tormoshilo waited for the column to pass completely
then, with a crash, he unfolded his bat wings and, intercepting
It was more convenient to have a tar-black gaff, which jerked upward.
Frol Skobeev walked without losing his footing, keeping his distance correctly
and more and moreasserting himself in the thought that the second circle in which he
shook almost five - far from the most terrible place in the world
lift it up And towards the stage, blocky cast-iron
rocks of Evil Crevices.
The bosses came up with the idea: the Orthodox are in Purgatory! What do they want
- they are doing...
“Eh, Vanya...” Frol sighed quietly.
- Talkers! - immediately rasped overhead, and the rustling
membranous wings flew towards the tail of the column.
* * *
Soon they reached the promised fifth bridge. Below there are gurgles-
a shaft of black-mirror resin, from which floated here and there
bribe taker and immediately sank headlong to the bottom, fearing to fall under
the hook of some raking demon. It felt hot.
- Stop! - squealed from above. The column stopped.
- Are you deliberately making fun of me? - hysterically scream-
silt Tormoshilo. - Have you tripped once again, bastard?
The wings crackled, the sharp hook of the hook flashed, and Frol’s neighbor,
caught under the shoulder, soared out of formation. Trembling membranes, Braking
Awl hovered over the black-mirror surface and twice dipped the guilty
cast into resin.
- Get into formation!
A soul as black as a Negro, howling in pain, climbed onto the bridge and
took her place.
- Keep moving! - Tormoshilo commanded with hatred and
planned on the base of one of the supports, where, dangling his hooves, he sat
another raking imp named Dog Itch.
“You shouldn’t…” he remarked indifferently.he dropped down next to Brake-
shile.- After all, amnestied people are not supposed to be dipped in tar. Smo-
three, it will burn...
“There’s no other way with them,” the nervous Tormoshilo answered him. “They
give me some slack - the horns will be turned away in no time... So what, is Tailtail here?
“He flew to the city,” responded Dog Itch, pressing down with his hook
a sinful head sticking out of the resin. - About the tar...
Tormoshilo frowned.
“Tailtail snorted,” he said gloomily. - How did you start then?
They gave me a nickname and I got screwed...
Dog Itch drowned another sinner and curiously
looked at his friend.
- What happened to you and him?
- Not with him! - said Tormoshilo with annoyance. - The day before yesterday
I'm on duty in the intensive care unit... Well, because of this... Yes, you know him!
current alone... Still can’t die!
- Well, well!
- Well, I’m standing there, waiting, my hook at the ready... And suddenly - frr!
melting...
- Who?
- Yes, these...feathered...from Purgatory! One green, from the first us-
stupid, and the second one, I don’t know, from the seventh, or what?.. So brilliant, on-
scrubbed... Oh, they say, what are you doing here? - Like what, I say,
I'm waiting for a sinner. - What, they say, are you crazy? The sinner from the righteous
can't you tell the difference? - Where is the righteous man here, I ask, is this
Is he a righteous man? Just look at his soul: there's a clump of soot - and
it’s cleaner!.. And can you imagine, they laugh in my face: okay, they say,
Let's wash it...Huh? Wow?
- Y-yes... - Dog Itchshook his head.
- Well, I got angry, I hit one of them between the wings with a hook... In short,
I carry a cart on them, and they carry a cart on me...
Dog Itch listened, smacking his lips sympathetically and not noticing yes-
and that in the square of resin entrusted to him there are already heads sticking out
sit with your mouths slightly open in curiosity.
- Well, who did the soul go to?
“No one yet...” Tormoshilo responded upset. “Again.”
pumped out... Maybe he has some kind of martyr relative,
How do I know!.. No, but do you understand what they are doing? Bosses...
- So Tailtail didn’t want to get involved?
Brake opened his mouth, but then the crack of a roof was heard from above.
lions and the ringing kiss of a pair of hooves on the stone covering of the bridge. Go-
the sinners' catches were instantly hidden in resin.
- ABOUT! - Grimacing, Tormoshilo nodded with his horn. - Easy to remember.
Now he will start yelling why the column is unattended...
The jubilant snout of Tailtail appeared above the granite edge.
- Hey, rakes! - he called. - Do you want to laugh?
- Well? - Dog Itch said cautiously.
- Charon’s boat was stolen! - spreading the fanged one in delight
mouth, said Tailtail. “Oh, and it will start now!”.. - Hit with his wings
and flew like a swallow to the next support.
The rakes looked at each other in shock. Sobachy was the first to come to his senses
Itching.
“It’s a mess...” he said hopelessly and sank with a sigh
a rare, overly curious bribe-taker
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