*........................[ Tales ]........................*
(c) KraZ/dtr/fdm
created: o7.o4.2ooo
1. We gathered pempoty and abtopoty in the club for educational mepon-
riyatiya. The underground holding the meeting looked at the people and proclaimed
forces: “Where is the duty tractor? I don’t see it, bring it here!”
2. Soldiers unload a car at a food warehouse. The ensign stands
house, commands and watches so that nothing is stolen. "Well, meat
moved? What the hell is that? Fish? Carry the fish for now so that they can egg-
didn't bother me. (there were also chicken eggs in the car).
3. I’m sitting in the storeroom, solving crossword puzzles. An ensign sits nearby
Polyanin. I read some questions out loud: “A city in Japan on
the letter "Y". Ensign: "Beijing?" Let's guess further. I'm reading "Zakus-
How about beer? Three letters." Ensign: "WHY?!?" apparently he heard
just the end of my sentence. “And I,” I say, “comrade warrant officer,
I prefer to eat cancer." After a moment I realized that I
froze, but the ensign managed to scoff in retaliation: “I won’t learn
I never do this, and I always have a snack at the table." "Dick?" - asked
I. The last word remained with him: "Fuck off before I tell you
fucked."4. One day, at the end of the working day, all the jackals and civilians
the personnel, as usual, went home. And to my department for-
Genka Alexandrov, a cadet friend of mine, fell down. He got close
as usual - call a landline phone, or just
chatter about this and that. We sit and fuck. friend Gena breaks down,
shouts: “Fuck, it’s time for shit! I’m going to headquarters!” and rushes out.
But the fact is, it must be said that after a working day, all departments,
departments and services, as a rule, are closed and sealed. Well
tremors, respectively, too. There's only one thing left to do - relieve yourself
either in the barracks or at the control headquarters - whichever is closer to get to.
Five minutes passed. I also felt the urge, and rushed to the headquarters.
Along the way, the urge intensified, and I pushed harder. Finally, I reach
push doors. I'm sticking around. Closed. I hear someone fiddling around. I'm from
I begin to dance around the door with impatience and howl:
"Gena, hurry up! Genych, open up, I'm going to shit myself right now! Gena, you bitch
Fucking, get the fuck out of there, faggot!" Passing by along the corridor
the messenger is a soldier from my company. I ask him: “There’s a rush there...
Who is it - Gena or what?" He answers: “Yes.” And I start screaming
stronger: “Gena, you fucking bitch! Hurry up, faggot! You’re there
Did you swallow the rope?" The bellhop looks at me dumbfounded,
his eyes widenforehead. He asks in a whisper: “Are you fucked?”
Me: “What? Why is he stuck there??” And I start banging on the door
foot. Then it starts to dawn on me. "bobah! - I moved too
to a whisper, - you said - that there is Gena! “Yes,” he answers
sir, - he just came from a meeting." I was frozen in shock
but the sound of water flushing in the toilet brought me out of it, and I rushed
to the exit from the headquarters. Lucky - they say the general is all crimson,
I wandered around the headquarters, looking for the “cunt.” =)
Shovel.
A few impromptu...
1. Smelled sweat rumhactepka -
I jerked off my dick in my private room.
2. becbma I respect the fuck,
And although I'm not so strong at it,
I repeat very often:
“I fucked you in the mouth, asshole.”
3. I dashingly dodged. Stool
Whistling and somersaulting, it flew overhead.
bot so, comrade soldiers, unsuccessful
I made fun of the foreman.Outfit
NOTE: my last name, and the last names of many military personnel I
deliberately changed. Some of the events are fictitious, and any coincidence
I ask you to consider them with reality as accidental.
I
"Company, line up for evening roll call!" - the orderly misled -
ny. “Don’t yell, you idiot,” said the man standing next to the bedside table.
orderly demobilization, - Until I unscrewed your tower." From pacno-
sleeping soldiers came out of bed, yawning, the rest fell out
from the rest room and the television, where they watched a pornographic film
that one However, the soldiers paid little attention to the squeals of the sergeants.
Someone went to the toilet, someone fell back on the bed. Here on
A sergeant major materialized on the threshold of the office. "b the formation fell, de-
Generates! bce one hundred percent under construction! Sysoev, bitch! bctahb pop
grove, fuck, before I fuck you! Mukhametsadykov, schmuck! Fucking-
stay, nah, for days in abtonapke you, nah, have fucking time
me, but the pussy under my nose, damn it, shave it off - no, nah? One minute, nah
time for you! Run, run, you fucking idiots! Filippov! Bitch
degenerate, are you really fucking relaxed? Fuck, you are not enough
Yesterday, the commander fucking fucked up? b build faster! bce, fuck, in
build!" The sergeant major accompanied these cries with generousand juicy blow-
on all the limbs of the soldiers who, by mistake, ended up
next to him.
Finally, a crowd formed on the takeoff, faintly resembling
build. "two ranks, motherfuckers!" - the foreman yelled. "bolkov! -
he yelled, stopping in front of me and opening his mouth wide, -
once again you don’t show up for formation, I’ll see you over there, near the ku-
I’ll bury the reeds on the lawn!” I recoiled. It seemed that I was looking into
a sewer hatch that the plumbers forgot to close. Sergeant Major
quite noticeably flashed his boot on me just below the knee of his left
legs. “Orderly!” the foreman roared, “bring the name list here-
yes! Run, bitch! Right now I’ll cut it off and stuff it into your hollow
yours!" Mikhailov, or, as the soldiers call him, Mikhalych, stopped
hovered at arm's length from the foreman, handed him
book and immediately teleported to the nightstand.
"Stay at attention! We're listening to the evening roll check list! Privates
Blasov!.. Gorchakov! Senior Sergeant Zhelnov! Ibragimov! Galitul-
lin! Murtazin! What is "yes"?? You need to shout the letter “I” out loud, bitch!
Murtazin! Shut up! Murtazin!!! Dick head..."
After checking, the foreman, as usual, began to read the notes -
tions. "Tomorrow morning, all castle platoons will be assigned cleaners to
location. The rest are all one hundred percent for the morningcharging.
Cathedrals, services, departments - no one is going anywhere. Bolkova
this is especially true." I remained silent because I knew what happens
with those who enter into an intellectual conversation with the foreman. Od-
once he considered the word "rhetoric" I said to be an insult in
your address, and a stool whistled next to my ear, and if
I didn’t dodge, the stool would have caused me serious injuries. Although
I should have done the opposite - even if the stool had flown
different trajectory, it was necessary to rush towards him, exposing
head. The foreman was just infuriated by the fact that he didn’t hit where he was aiming.
Xia, and he rushed towards me. But I was sober, unlike the foreman,
and after chasing me, which lasted about three minutes, I
managed to jump out of the barracks. The sergeant-major on the way out got caught but-
goy for the mop of Mikhalych, who was scrubbing the floor in the vestibule, and screwed up
Xia. I didn’t see what was in the vestibule further, but I heard a roar,
the rattling of a bucket, splashes of spilled water and screams of “Degenerate!
I’ll kill you, bitch!”, after which, holding his ass, he ran out into the street
wet Mikhalych...
“It’s your own damn fault that I’m yelling at you, damn it,”
continued the foreman, “how the fuck do you treat me, so,
fuck, I'm coming to you too. I always treat you well, but what
I, there, yelled at someone, or, there, hit, well, nah, I love-"By!". The Dagestani Musa sighed quietly. "Kacymob, bitch! - for-
the foreman said, “Are you fucking funny?” Ensign, warming up
Forming his hands, he rushed to the dag, and, when he got there, soldered it under
breath Grunting with satisfaction, he took his place in front of the line.
“We’re listening to the outfit for tomorrow. Company duty officer - Sergeant Gubaidul -
lin. Orderlies - privates Bikmukhametov, Kurshev. Prodsklad - Po-
temkuh, Beloborodov. Headquarters - Osipov. Building - Pavlov. Small outfit
in the dining room: Sibgatullin, Nabiullin. Assistant duty officer
fishing - Tsyganov, workers: Kypmaeb, Sitdikov, Sinyagin, Romanov,
Gorchakov, Xycauhob, Talipov, Arkhipov, Shagaev, Yutkin, Murtazaev.
The duty tractor is Makhanob, the ambulance is Garayev. bce, via
ten minutes lights out. Disperse!"
I breathed a sigh of relief - they didn’t force me into the outfit, I can
okay to go to bed...
I woke up from the characteristic sound of the fluorescent lights turning on.
lamps and the orderly’s cry “Company, get up!” Straight from under the blanket I
jumped into the kirzachi, put on his green shirt, put on his belt, hat and,
kneading a cigarette, pretending that I was going to smoke, slowly and
yawning, he walked past the company duty officer and the orderly to the exit
barracks. "Bolkov, are you fucking off again? - the focus did not pass through, - On
morning inspection here, otherwise I’ll break your turnip,” -feigned dissatisfaction
sergeant's face
The day passed as usual, in between sets of reports.
and other tables and texts, I played with Spectrum toys,
I read the press, listened and tried to write music. evening workers
dissolved and I went under the stairs of the building to sleep.
I woke up at eight o'clock and decided that it would be nice
something to chew. After waiting for the company to have dinner, I went to
dining room with the intention of introducing himself as an orderly and taking him to the varoch-
Noah grub. Swallowing liquid mashed potatoes, eating his sandwich
I come from oil, I was wondering what to do next. There were two options
- fuck until lights out, or go to the company, where they probably started
PCB. I liked the first option much better. Having finished dinner,
I stuffed several pieces of bread into my camouflage pockets, took a hat
ku and headed towards the exit. The canteen attendant was standing at the exit.
“Bolkov,” he asked, “abtopota?” “That’s right,” I replied,
sensing something bad. "What the hell are you fucking fucking with? You
What - should everyone look for it, fucking in the mouth? Is it special? Why on
wasn't there a divorce?" bot is news... What a scam, what does he say?
at all? Yes, I was kind of punished, they forced me into an outfit for a week, but
on the nightstand or as a waiter, and a week has already passed. Really
foreman oxyebaet, and continues to put me inoutfit? And start-
The people in the building don't say shit. bot got it... Now in
outfits go and work there... "... potatoes! Three soldiers there
fucking! Run, damn it, to the vegetable store!" It turns out that the ensign is something
fucked up while I was thinking about it. "Who gives a fuck, Comrade Warrant Officer?
btpoem? Gangbang or what? And did you just come from there?” - I tried
I'll fuck him according to the mood. "Fuck off, fuck off! Fourth now
you will!" Having done the “circle”, I went to the vegetable shop.
in the utility rooms of the dining room the light bulbs were dimly lit and
There was a terrible smell of some kind of rotten meat. I went into the vegetable shop. b nose
I was overwhelmed by the smell of onions. Three soldiers from my company were sitting on a rock
make, and, swearing, peeled the potatoes from the eyes. Driver driver
shoveled potatoes into the potato peeler and unloaded the peeled ones into
dirty trough. A soldier somewhat similar to Hottabych, melancholy
peeled the onions. “Are you coming to us?” the soldiers asked. I
nodded, took the knife and stood next to them.
- You're sad, dear, there's a lot of potatoes... We'll have a long time to peel them. -
Dagestan Dzhabrail said with a terrible accent. I sat down on a chair and
looked around. in the corner of the workshop there was a huge pile of half-rotten
potatoes. The soldier-machinist put down the shovel, closed the door and
ril. The onion stank so much that tears flowed from my eyes. Potato peeler,
vibrating, it made sounds similar to the release of gas from MTZ.- There's still some bullshit here. - Seconded person shared memories
Arkhipov came to us, waiting for documents for transfer to the reserve. -
I served in Bladikavkaz and in Perm. And they were drinking everywhere. b Chech-
No, I remember, I sold four boxes of grenades. Cartridges are not sucked at all
you're reading...
- Hexyebo. - another soldier noticed. - How much?
- Fifty rubles for a grenade.
“Two thousand,” I thought, and asked:
- So, did you drink it all?
- You're bazaar! - Arkhipov grinned.
- Who did you sell it to? Chicha or what?
- Are you fucked? Kohtpakthukam! No, it’s better in parts... Here it’s already dressed up -
the ladies are fucked, and there at least you shoot from the heart, training... But they fuck
spirits in black... And fucking jackals.
"Yes...", I remembered the first training shooting range at the KMB, when
We were each given, almost upon signature, nine cartridges and
AK-47. Three single rounds and three bursts of two rounds. I'm with
looked longingly at the two huge bathtubs that needed to be
fill it with potatoes, and with a smile remembered the Soviet films, where
One soldier sits in the kitchen and, having made a fucked-up mug, cleans the ledger.
ro potatoes.-Where are you from? - I asked Hottabych. - I somehow hurt you -
I didn’t see her in the company.
- baenkatat... Chief vazil. In English.
- Faggot. Fucker, bitch... We're fucking here, and you're some kind of
You're driving your ass. - Arkhipov was angry. - Tomorrow morning you will go to the garbage.
- Nat, why mycap? I'm in avashchnoy. Peel potatoes, peel onions
- You’ll go, you’ll go, you’re not fucking going anywhere.
- You don’t give a fuck, yeah! - Dzhabrail joined Apxunoby. -
No matter what the waste, we’ll take you to the car wash, we’ll give pussies, it’s a stalemate
the mop will be given, the whole steel will be a faggot. Yes, bolkav?
- the Dagestani patted me on the back in a friendly manner. - How are you zydes?
You don’t wear an outfit. We'll go to school tomorrow. And this
let mycap throw. Hottabych fell silent. If only he knew what it was
"to go to waste," perhaps he would rather scrub the dining room.
About twenty bags of potatoes are consumed here per day, and that’s all.
cleaning waste spills out into the yard. b the same pile falls "pa-
rush" - leftover food, rot, bones and other crap. bce this is to
at the end of the outfit it turns into a pile of disgusting slurry,
several meters wide. And this slurry needs to be thrown into a dump truck,
otherwise the new incoming troops will not accept it.
- What’s in the food warehouse? - I myself started working on a daily basis for the first time
dining room- That's bullshit. We’ll bring the rapist, loads of sauerkraut, mar-
kov, stalemate, loaded potatoes. Ten hundred meshkov. Holy crap.
- Did you screw up the rest of the time?
- Shchutisch, dear! Look at the chipped potatoes! It's not two at night
We'll make it in time. Yes, we clean two, we go to bed at two, barracks, on Friday in the morning
We get up, and honey mushrooms are judged, potatoes are peeled for abed. Na abed hemhora
savsem - two meshchok. After abed food warehouse we go, potatoes,
The product is loaded, we peel the potatoes. Two... Two baths.
I asked him questions sometimes without meaning. For some reason it would be interesting-
It was easy to listen to him speak with an accent. my stomach was growling, it was already oxo-
I was hungry, but I knew that if I waited an hour, the hunger would disappear. And that's it
I put the knife aside and went to wander around the dining room. Having heard, seen
mo, my steps, the waiter jumped out of the pantry, looking around furtively.
- Oh, it's you. I thought jackals were roaming. Will you be making jelly? He held out
I need a briquette of dry jelly.
- Do you have anything more substantial to eat? - I asked.
- No, they grabbed everything. If only bread.
- Give me some bread. - I agreed. I devoured half a loaf with gusto
bread and went to get potatoes.
Walking past the brewhouse, I ran into a
cook who,recoiling, embarrassed at her carelessness.
...She was not disgustingly young, but she was not an adult aunt either -
las. Offhand, about 25 years old. The cook was pretty, and
not at all like other typical public workers
nutrition. If the majority of the latter have a saggy and protruding ass,
extends about half a meter back, the udder hangs down to the belly and
spreads all over the body, then this woman had a very special
medicinal external data. In simple nobapux they usually hold
but a red face and a wandering gaze aka “what to cheat?”. b
in general, this lady was radically different from the stan-
dart of women chefs...
... fucked up the first part...
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