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"And what the hell are you doing? What neighborhood are you from?!" - shouted the old man, kicking the Terminator's head, which was mumbling something about lost files.
Finally, the old man calmed down. "No, but what about him? Is he any good? Probably not even a decent Vasya, maybe he doesn't even drink Zhiguli."
Everyone froze, staring blankly at Chicotilo. "No, guys, what's up? Who are you, anyway?"
"Just a regular guy, that's all, a typical Ashan guy, trying to be cool, he's not even worthy of a Zhiguli," Arantir decided to play along with the psychopath.
The old man softened. "Okay, I see, he's a decent Vasya, let's sit down and have some semki."
"Okay."
Everyone else was still standing there in a daze.
"So, what? We'll have a Zhiguli now, huh, Chicotilo?"
"Yeah, let's go steal some mobile phones from those Vasyas, sell them, and buy a Zhiguli!" - Chicotilo exclaimed with enthusiastic excitement, his saliva spraying everywhere, resolutely getting up from his squatting position and heading towards Crocodile Gene and Wolf.