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Mikhail and Angela sat and listened to their talkative neighbor. The bottle of the capital was drunk, the wine half-empty. Serious artillery came into the conversation, the same moonshine that, like gin released, causes devils and hallucinations. My host didn't drink much, Nikolai drank a lot of it, and then he went stark raving mad. When my host's fantasy ran out, there was a moment of silence, and in order not to appear boring, drunk as a skunk, Nikolai began to tell jokes. I was told some jokes in the copper, which can lead to imprisonment - Kolyan braided his tongue, I'll tell you, in confidence, but don't tell anybody who told you them - he embraced Angela with a giggle. Angela in bewilderment pulled away from the comedian, looking questioningly at Piskunov.
