The drunk at the gathering of players of the Epoch reached its climax, rolled to perigee. We have already discussed everything: friends and enemies, chaos and paladins, other bad people. Gradually, the conversation went into the category of "And you, you bastard, faltered!", as someone Sharp saying:
- We need to organize a marriage agency!
The drinkers looked at each other. Not that the beer was with vodka, but this thought in the absence of other stimulants required clarification. After drinking, one of the drinkers demanded: - Explain it! - No, what's the big deal? We'll set up a marriage agency. I always do that.
And indeed, Sharp was an old, mother, matchmaker. He married the artnikovs to the homeless, the poor to the rich and vice versa, the poor to the poor and the rich to the rich. Brought and bred, in short, was a secret pimp-lovelas BK. Once even married Jetkokokos to Generalich, after which he caught the last horn for a month. The general, apparently, waiting for the bride, did not expect to find a drunken splash of Coconut under the crown. And then another month of horns from Jetkokokos, and in addition incurable injury not six months. - In short, the theme is this, continued the Sharp, in the game there are artniks, and in the game you can get married. Also in the game there are girls, and then everything is like in real life. One gets married, then they share a joint and we get our percentage artami. - And if they don’t get divorced? asked one of the drinkers. - And we have a secret covenant with them. - And they...
- And we...
- And they...
- And we...
Satisfied parted from the meeting. The plans were to create a clan "4 women", a chapter was stipulated, managers were agreed, the percentage was specified, and the first victims among artniks were planned.
The thunder came, as always, from where they were not expected. At first, Sharp stopped sharply taking the phone pipe and missed a couple of preference tournaments. The second call was a bummer at Oktoberfest. When he said he wouldn't come, because... For he did not say, he hushed up. The future "Four-Babists" are strained...
The last straw was a caveat according to Freud, when he was dialed on the mabilah early in the morning, and instead of “Hello, what nada?” he murmured: “I will buy a purple stroller!” An urgent meeting was appointed, where the future head had to answer a couple of unpleasant questions.
Sodnyak was assigned to 19 zero Tuesday. No matter what, it was called a birthday.
Sharp came sober, in a suit and with a ring on his finger. The silent scene was interrupted by a phone call.
- “Ah,” he said, “Sharp.”
- So, dear husband, - loud communication betrayed Rezky, - now you play in the Korean grinding room, and this, I married you there! Curtain...

ekh Seryoga Seryoga )

(ha) Sergey handsome) in his repertoire)