Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

Pavel Lembersky

complicated situation, the issue here being not so much the marijuana but his expired street vendor’s license. Just read my lips: he went and got himself into some deep shit. Well, what can you do about it? He got himself into it, and he’ll have to get himself out of it – he’s not a child any longer. Leaving Samusis the younger behind in the rain with a confused expression on his face, now turning red, let us for a change tell you about Zoya Samusis – there’s no need to jump anywhere in our thoughts for this purpose as the rest of the story takes place in the present moment. Zoya, at her forty six years of age, had managed to retain her formerly youthful good looks, even though she had noticeably gained weight. Learning about her husband’s demise, she reached his workplace from midtown in a jiffy and, huffing heavily, ran into the office on the twenty second floor, saw her husband’s corpse lying on the carpet with his purple-blue manhood peeking out of its fly and, sobbing loudly, hiked up her pinafore, shed her panties, and for the eyes of all to see, started humping our Henry Samusis. Somebody hissed: «She’s lost her shame entirely!» She answered with some delay. Tears were streaming down her puffy cheeks and she wiped them off with the tie belonging to the departed, while not ceasing for a second to love her husband. “Judge not lest you be judged,” she finally proclaimed. The wallet of the deceased suddenly reappeared all by itself.


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