About nice people (classic case)
Once, three nice people were sitting in the kitchen being already mad nice. They are sitting and slowly talking about some movie by the German director Fassbinder, which title they can't remember, but for some reason they still want to. Incidentally, other distinctive topics and some jokes arise, the music is playing and virtual airships are flying by. So, it's, like, a good evening in a nice and quiet company.
The phone rings. Hostess picks up the call and listens for a long time, waiting to hear something. Then, puts it back and asks the host: "Somebody is calling you again and disconnects when hearing me." The host tells: "Why are you thinking its calling me? Maybe, it's calling you and after hearing your voice disconnects immediately." These words puzzle the hostess; she tries to concentrate and freezes for like five minutes; then the phone rings again. The host picks it up himself and starts to talk with somebody; then it rings again and they finally realize that it's the door bell rings, boldly and persistently.
The hostess tries to keep her face and tells: "Listen up. We are not waiting for anybody." The host and the guest open the window immediately and empty the ashtray out there ASAP. Then it turns out that the guest still has a dime bag, and what they gonna do with it? Throw away? No way! Hide it in the flat? It can put hosts into a trouble. The only way is to fucking smoke it up to do not surrender it to the enemies. They quickly rolled a reefer and smoked it like they are on a puffing contest.
By the way, the stuff was quite good. They cheered up and started to loudly discuss how they almost shitted their pants after some stupid phone call which, in fact, probably never happened. Or, maybe, it happened indeed, but who really cares? Pigs don't know that somebody's here and they may think that nobody's home. They'll wait a bit then ten-forty-two to munch donuts and tell those ten-double-zero stories to each other. Maybe, they didn't really intend to can anybody, just rang the bell as a prank to put those damn hippies into a bad mood. But no way! Our mood isn't too weak to be spoiled that easily! To retaliate, let's call them back right now and tell: "Sorry, guys, you can relax for today - we're totally clean now!" Wait a sec, don't trouble trouble until trouble troubles you - they can come to check it out. And even bring something - to plant on us. Let's call the firemen instead or, even better, call four-one-one and ask when the August will finally come. Because it's October and October all the time, and still no August at all. Well, Russia is the motherland of October. It used to be written on Soviet propaganda billboards. Wow, guys, it exactly hits the spot: the motherland of October it is. But the October isn't so bad, after all: Oktoberfest, October Revolution, Halloween and other funny activities.
There is a question: what if it weren't pigs? Those who ringed the door bell. What if it was something big and interesting and it passed by because we freaked out? But how to find it out, if it already came and passed by and will never come again? Especially because they don't really feel like lift their butts and go to see what it really was, albeit, from the other point of view, it would be really interesting to find it out. Finally, after some efforts, the host stood up and looked out of the door.
There are two more nice people out there leaning on railings and having some slow conversation. When they saw the host they bucked up a bit and told: "Wow! Dude, what's the title of this movie by Fassbinder starring Banderas about a fat Indian?" The host remembered that the movie is called Gone with the Wind but it's not by Tarantino at all. He also wanted to find out did they ring the door bell or not - but those nice people are already totally nice and can't fucking remember. Probably they rang or probably they still didn't but they definitely didn't see any pigs out there either. The kettle is finally begun to boil and everybody went to drink tea.
English translation: (c) juzy http://juzy.livejournal.com