[3/20] Makarovgrad will win!!!

... It was a hard day. The guys were tired
like hell and that's why they were arguing all the way.
- Today they almost killed us. They were
closer than ever! - Chuev grumbled,
disassembling the machine gun, - they are picking up, wishing us harm.
- Sue them! - Lapezius tried to make a joke again. Yes, today
his jokes obviously didn’t go well.
And indeed, it was hard for us.
Although the matter was simple in essence, somehow
luck decided to take a day off. First, the minister was wearing a bulletproof vest and had to fire a second shot, then almost the entire army was sent in pursuit of us.
Silence reigned again. There were no oncoming cars, and only the steady sound of the engine diluted the silence of the warm autumn night. Dawn was approaching. In the east, enlightenment was already noticeable. Heavy leaden
clouds were approaching from the west.
- Apparently, it will rain... - I, the director
SBM, said meaningfully. The post obliged me to explain myself meaningfully.
The cabin became quieter. Everyone
looked at me with interest, and Chuev again sarcastically
:
- Okay, tell me what’s on your
mind.
- Why so rude, - Lapetia asked him. To be honest, I was annoyed with this
Smurrian defector agent, but I
restrained myself and decided to leave
Smurr alone.
- A it's a matter of factActually, this is what... -
here I thought - what did I want to tell them? Yes, it’s hard for me.
Fulfilling so many responsibilities! Calculate for yourself whether this is a lot or too much for such a low salary: the director of the SBM, the head of the Foreign Policy Department, and besides...

Then Antonio I closed my report and, with
the words “I’ll finish reading it later,” asked me to take care of my numerous
responsibilities.
I realized that there would be no increase in salary today
and, slamming the door as His Majesty does not like, left the audience hall.
Having yelled at the servant who was opening the entrance door of the Palace for excessive slowness, I got into my Ferrari and rushed home.
Driving away from the palace, I glanced at the rearview mirror. At the same time, the mirror
broke, but I noticed how the Minister of Finance
hurriedly left the palace.
- So he will pay me for everything! - I said angrily, looking at the crumpled rear-view mirror, the third in a row, broken from the gaze of my sharp
eyes.
Not noticing the red traffic light, I
passed another intersection, again
violating the rules of the road and
breaking at the same time six more cars and
one injury. Joyful, I used chalk
to put half a dozen crosses onred
upholstery of my sports car. In search
of a place for the seventh cross, I shot down one
new Russian; Grinning evilly, I
put an end to his red jacket.
The bandit tried to get his gun, but I
stopped this attempt: I pressed the gas and ran over him in
6th gear, thereby
saving the city hospitals from one more
patient.
Arriving at my country villa, the first
thing I did was hand over the car for major
repairs. (third in a month). Taking new
newspapers, I went into the living room, sat down in an armchair
by the fireplace and began to read the headlines of the articles:

MAKAROVGRAD WILL WIN:
DREAM AND REALITY

Yesterday, under strange circumstances,
the Minister of State Security was killed
one of the ...

The FBI IS TAKING THE CASE

(laughing over this typo, I'm angry)
( noticed that the FBI was really hurt)
( our murder of Minister Pribytkovsky)
( Commonwealth )

LET'S SAY IT AGAIN... (here I suddenly
remembered that
Borisov owes me money for nine
major repairs of my car.
Oh, this Ministry of Finance! I grabbed the radiotelephone,
breaking the wire to telephone
network.
- What the hell!I screamed in anger. But no one answered. Then I shouted EVEN
LOUDER, “SHTOZA DAMMIT!”
Shtoza stumbled into the living room, all sleepy. He was unsteady, but he held on.
He held on to the doorframe. The joint was almost smokey, but that didn't bother him. A joint
can't really confuse you.
- Damn, how many times have I told you not to
smoke in the house? - I angrily spat out the words
in the eyes of the slanting two-meter Pole.
“Not once, Your Excellency,” the Devil reported
in a fume.
In a rage, I grabbed the radiotelephone and forcefully threw it into Stose’s chest. It
broke and crumbled into small pieces.
Iron.
- Well, why be so upset, - my faithful
servant told me with kindness and warmth, - You broke the new iron again.
- Damn it! Then where is my radiotelephone
?! - I cried out, terribly upset, pitying the Minister of Finance.
“As always, it’s in your pocket,” Shtoza Chert, my
only servant and good comrade, answered calmly, “
if you want to call Borisov, he
just sent a message via email that he died and will not return soon.
- Here’s a dog, again on the money. party
sits and does not want to help the people. I'll put it on the counter. He will know,” I cried out in anger.
“It will be, it will be,” the Pole repeated, collecting fragments from the iron-telephone.
Igot offended by the whole world, went to the bedchamber and, without undressing - so, right in the evil boots of the riot police, a bias-cut jacket and a bandana, fell on the bed and fell asleep, in spite of all the enemies, without turning off the light and the TV. And the meter kept counting the wasted electricity and the debt of Borisov, the Minister of Finance of Makarovgrad.
Regards,
Random
--
Lord of Chaos.
e-mail: ran...@cybermail.net

Concern Chaos WWW HQ: http://www.cybermail.net/~random/