[4/20] Makarovgrad will win!!!

Meanwhile, in the enemy's lair...
Shrouded in clouds of tobacco smoke
oppositionists sat at a round table.
Kotso tried to light his cigar, but
the lighters would not light,
the cigarette lighters would not light, the matches would not
match. There was no oxygen.
“There is no oxygen,” Kotso noted.
Everyone made a noise, wondering “where is Oxygen”
and how he dared not come to the general
secret meeting. After all, on every corner
there was a notice about the meeting with
the address. The noise grew. The bolts clanged, a machine gun burst rang out, a grenade launcher went off. A massive firefight began. Bullets, cartridges, and corpses were flying and whistling. The speaker rang the bell so that everyone would calm down. Having restored order, he
continued, shouting over the groans of the wounded.
- The oxygen has run out... Yes, remove the
wounded! - he nervously shouted to the cleaners.
A dozen shots rang out and there were no
wounded. One of the cleaners brought
an oxygen pad and placed it on the
polished table.
Kotso brought the barely smoldering cigar to
the cushion and turned the valve. The flame
shot up to the ceiling and fell into the cigar.
Taking a relieved drag on the Cuban cigar
and wiping his forehead with a handkerchief with the inscription “so
everything will be normal,” Kotso declared:
- My friends! Wewe didn't gather here to make jokes and not to have fun, you understand. We have more important things to do here. I need to get married at the age of 35 (cries of approval were heard in the hall. It was our agent - Chuev. He, apparently, knew other people with the same interests). So,
we need to live up to these 35 years, but me and you
are being prevented from doing this. And who is to blame for this,
who?
- Not me! - shouted some guy in a crimson jacket, - I bought a spinjack yesterday, it wasn’t me!
Another shot rang out and the guy fell silent. No one noticed that the shot was fired from Comrade Chuev's hand howitzer. All the walls, ceiling and floor were
stained with blood and missing brains.
No one noticed the blood on their
red jackets and no less red
muzzles. And only Chuev did not stand out from
the crowd: he carefully wiped his face from
the enemy's blood and said loudly and distinctly:
“Motherfucker,” he said in pure
English, having long ago learned it from songs and
indistinct cries of Potapov, the director of
SBM.
Shots were heard in the hall again, but
Kotso rang again with a bell.
The meeting continued.
- So, on the agenda... - then he was interrupted.
The knife broke his throat and, choking
blood, with his last breath, Kotso
said “The SBM has already reached me.They
damned bastards. What a shame
to kill the chairman of the opposition meeting.
The one who did this is a very bad
person. I didn't expect this from you. We are
all brothers, and you raised your hand against me.
This is a great sin. You have violated one of the commandments, one might say the most important one - “thou shalt not kill.” And you killed me, stabbed me with a knife. God will not forgive you for this. I was
a father to you, and you were like my children to me..."
Here Chuev could not stand it and burst into tears:
- Forgive me! - his words flashed
under the low arch of the warehouse, all the people
looked in surprise at the SBM super agent.
Then he realized how close he was to failure.
Andrey sat down and wondered how he could be
further. After all, the entire state apparatus will not be able to work without him. Everyone in the hall
looked at Chuev carefully. He carefully examined the plan
from all sides and noticed that it was very simple - to run. But there was one thing - he couldn’t leave without a farewell speech. find
nothing suitable. The weapon spoke for him. A quadruple anti-aircraft machine gun with
explosive mini-shells rattled in
the hands of secret agent Chuev. He borrowed it from Potapov yesterday and was glad that he had captured the machine gun.with you. The crowd
dispersed. It settled on the walls, the ceiling,
a light bulb hanging on a bare wire.
The crowd settled on the round table, covering it
with a bloody mess. The famous knife of Comrade Chuev turned out to be covered with someone's meat. Blood was dripping from the walls and not a single intact human body, except for Andrei's living body, was left in the room. He also shot, for
pleasure, light bulbs, locks, barred windows, a round table, parquet floors. To tell the truth, there was no parquet as such to be seen. It was visible how
the parquet, splitting, flew out of the bloody
pulp that abundantly covered the floor in all
directions, completing the picture of red horror.
The smell of recently torn meat penetrated
the nose of the SMS agent standing at the epicenter
of the action of a giant meat grinder. It was strange how Chuev emerged unharmed from such a terrible massacre. He held his nose and,
complaining about the lack of ammunition,
decided to leave. Opening the door, he walked out of the darkened red room of what was once a television warehouse onto the dazzlingly clean and bright street of the capital Makarovgrad. Leaving bloody trails, Chuev went to the metro station. Another hard day for the SMS agent was coming to an end. On the way he stopped at one of the very expensive shops andchanged clothes.
Naturally, the bill was issued in the name of the Minister of Finance. After washing his face in the supermarket restroom, Chuev noticed with surprise that he had forgotten to shave.
- It’s always like this, I’ll forget in the morning, and in the evening why shave? - thought Chuev, walking towards his five-story building. Having tormented for a long time which apartments he should sleep in today, he chose the green ones.
Entering his sixty-apartment building, he shouted:
- Yan, green apartments for the SBM agent.
That was the name of his Japanese maid. Her
full name was Su Ka Yan. She didn't understand a lick of Russian, but that wasn't necessary, since when Andrey returned so late, he chose the Green apartment on the first floor. There were no others, however, at the first place, and Chuev's strength did not allow him to rise higher. Having gone into the tea room, he had dinner and headed to the bedchamber. For a long time he had visions of bloody boys, but when he washed the blood from his eyes, the visions disappeared. Andrey's thoughts dissipated
and he plunged into the kingdom of SBM's
dreams.
And you are not at all scary, SBM agent, when
sleeping with your teeth against the wall and Potapov
is in a country residence.

Regards,
Random
--
Lord of Chaos.
e-mail: ran...@cybermail.net

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