“Listen, neighbour,” Venka said, “go along now. My friends and I are just relaxing here.”
“No, wait, I just wanted to say” — Venka’s hand landed on the vet’s shoulder, and he brushed it off — “I don’t consider you to be Nazis. Well, your flag looks like the fascists, but that’s all rubbish. You want to topple the government; I too would like to trounce them. And those who slipped us troops up Afghanistan’s arse, and those who slipped us out. And those who slipped troops up Chechnya’s arse. And those who slipped them out. And those who slipped them up again. And also the Chechens, at the same time. What is it with all that egg throwing? Are you f*****g serious? I’ve got no hand, but I’m ready to hoist your flag from the Kremlin right now — I can strangle with this one hand, and I can shoot
