It got dark...
The Teuton clan, led by its chief Suprim, swears and curses bad weather, tradition, the chief himself, and everyone who had memory of going on an annual ice fishing trip. Vodka at most ran out at the previous stop, cigarettes even earlier. The minority with vodka was silent, rightly believing that there could be no more nishtyaks, and everyone would want to drink. From time to time, the one who walked behind, four, and then it became clear to Suprim that someone's legs were again intertwined and had to drag another fisherman on himself. Finally, someone thought to throw a snowball at the chief. - Hey, boss, men are fighting. Where's the night beer and vodka? Where are the available aunts who fall for knights?
Suprim wiped the sweat off his forehead with his free hand. Be patient, for it has been said. - All of you, motherfucker," proclaimed another, "came in. Or vodka with aunts or continue to stick yourself.
Suprim did not want to give up the scum, but the rebellion had to be crushed. There was vodka, no aunts. We had to sacrifice vodka, but much more. The bubble that appeared finally brought confusion to the irregular ranks of drunken knights. Someone rushed to set up a tent, the most inadequate began to drill holes. Someone was getting stew, firewood and ignition liquid. The latter was empty, for out of habit it was drunk on the march. “Your mother,” Suprim thought longingly, “and with these people I was going to build a bright future, protect the protected and hurt the wronged?” To throw everything to the devil and drown yourself? Pinoc got him out of his mind.
- Would you like to drink? – The voice of the clan was heard. - “How are you talking to the first gom?”, Suprim resented and kicked back. Then he took a bottle of murmured mutter and drank it in one face. - Sorry Chief, I didn't admit in the dark, the soklan apologized. Suprim muttered so much that he managed to think: “Glory to the CPSU (b) and Lavrenty Palich.” I had to get up and go give instructions whether he was the boss or not. Distributing kicks and snatches, Suprim appointed dutymen responsible for the preparation of Rolton noodles, responsible for maintaining the fire, responsible for fishing rods, fish and so on. And he fell asleep, thinking his job was done.
By morning, the bonfires were not tracked by inexperience, and the bonfires with which he surrounded the camp in the hope of scaring off the wild beast melted the ice and the whole camp plunged into the water. Traditional fishing has begun.
Swearing and floundering, drowning food and armor, the knights got out of the water, covered with algae, mud and other leeches. No one thought about the clothes – they would save themselves and the remains of the booze. In haste, according to tradition, drowned half of the composition.
And no one knows, maybe the flood and the second, but at this time to the knights heard a blow in the rail, notifying that the selpo with beer open. Cursing everything in the world and throwing miraculously saved junk into the water, the knights who got out of the water, but did not clean their armor, reached for a hangover. "It's a sad sight," Oro said. Sad, he agreed, recalls the French near Moscow, the Germans near Moscow and Stalingrad. These are the Teutons, what can we expect from them? - Traditions, every spring, drown something here on the lake. In the summer, what kind of crayfish!
Orro and -had a sad look at the sad spectacle.
Suprim closed the column, on whose ear hung algae, and a leech sucked to his cheek.
Another fishing trip took place.

:D

For Fantasy 5, for Content 2
Well done, take a cake from the shelf, there are two, do not take the extreme. :)

lot

what did you smoke?

axaxa :D