Interesting and Humour - page 32

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There is no water in house number 3 on Golechikhinsky Lane. An excavator arrived, dug a two-meter-high hole in the yard, looked for pipes, but did not find them. The workers looked into the hole, got upset, spat and decided to give up archaeology until morning.

Late that night Uncle Mitya was walking home and fell into the hole. He did not know that there was one in the yard, he just walked at random and found it. True, the workers had left the fence in two places - on the front side of the pit, and on the back side, no one had expected Uncle Mitya to come in from the flanks.

Once down, Uncle Mitya wanted to get out in the open, into the pampas, but failed. Uncle Mitya started shouting loudly what one is supposed to shout when falling into a pit. You know all the words, I will not list them all.

The sound of native speech woke up the neighbours, went out onto balconies, everyone wanted to know the source of the broadcast. A living creature caught in the pit always arouses the keenest interest of its fellow human beings. Everybody is curious how it will crawl out of it. If the creature can also swear, it's a good show.

Then Uncle Borya came out of the house, giving the sufferer a helping hand. Uncle Mitya pulled him by that hand and dropped him down on himself. The two began to shout in a duet, albeit a little out of tune. Uncle Mitya blamed Uncle Borja for the instability. Uncle Borya also found some arguments, very convincing, mostly relating to Uncle Mitya's genetic flaw. Then they somehow found common ground, one hooked up with the other, and little by little both made their way to the surface of the planet. The spectators on the balconies, who had expected more drama, left disappointed.

The next day, towards evening, the workers with the excavator returned. It turned out that they had been digging in the wrong place yesterday and it was clear why nothing had been found. The hole in the yard was dug and a new one was excavated, this time from the street side. Already at a depth of one and a half metres signs of buried civilisation could be found, in particular a telephone cable. The cable had fallen victim to excavation before anyone noticed it.

After a brief discussion it was decided to call it a day and leave. It was evening, and tough decisions are best made with a clear head.

You have already guessed, haven't you? Late in the evening Uncle Mitya was walking home.

He remembered that there was a two-meter hole in the earth's crust in the yard of the house, and decided to walk around the house from the other side. In the morning, when he left the house, the hole in the yard was still there, but there was no hole in the street. Uncle Mitya did not know that workers had come and switched pits in his absence.

He fell down into the pit and found a torn telephone cable there. In case anyone doesn't know, the voltage in the telephone line reaches 110 volts at the time of the call, and that solves the mystery of why telecom workers don't like to brush the wires with their teeth. Uncle Mitya fumbled for the cable with his hands in the fall. Coincidentally, at that very moment someone was trying to reach house number 3 on Goleshikhinsky Lane. The cable was damaged and the call did not reach the telephone. The call was picked up by Uncle Mitya.

A long time ago Uncle Mitya was educated as an electrician in a vocational school, where he was told what to do if a person had a short circuit with electricity. Now the education he had received came in handy. Uncle Mitya made the sounds of a man merging with an agitated telephone line. This time he did not need Uncle Borie's help to get out of the pit. With a boost of energy, Uncle Mitya won a convincing victory over gravity in one leap. He was much more comfortable in the previous pit.

Once outside the pit, Uncle Mitya put such an ornate curse on the archaeologists that Tutankhamun would have died of envy once more. Uncle Mitya made his way all the way to the flat, holding on to the wall with one hand and probing the ground in front of him with his feet. Even in the staircase he checked every step, just in case. He was no longer sure of anything.

The next morning, just after lunch, the workers returned to house No. 3 on Goleshikhinsky Lane. They wanted to fill in the hole from yesterday, but there were angry signalers from the local telephone station. They were very angry. There was a conflict, the telecom operators suggested the workers look for their pipes in another place, not far from the fallopian tubes.

The workers did not go that far, but dug another hole five meters to the left of the previous one. This time the pipes were found. The workers rejoiced, became very enthusiastic and dug a trench as long as a good-sized boa constrictor. The trench crossed the pavement and even captured a bit of the carriageway. For the convenience of pedestrians, a bridge of three planks had been thrown across it. Below, beneath the planks, a whitewater canal splashed.

As usual, late at night Uncle Mitya was walking home.

Actually, an electrician's weekday ends at six-oh-zero; after six Uncle Mitya is as free as Angela Davis. But as it happens, Uncle Mitya got his paycheck on Monday. The electrician is human too, he is weak. He cannot resist the temptation to buy a half-litre and consume it internally. So Uncle Mitya came home late.

It was witching hour, the moon was shining in the sky, and in the moonlight a trench suddenly appeared right in front of Uncle Mitya.

Had it happened the day before, he would not have hesitated to fall into it. But today all Uncle Mitya's senses were heightened, he was aware of the treachery of the pipe-diggers and was mentally prepared for the trench. Uncle Mitya walked gracefully along the bridges, like Miss Universe on the catwalk, only unshaven and overheated. On the other side of the catwalk, Uncle Mitya exclaimed:

- Ha! Eaten, shrews?

When the wise King Solomon said, "Pride precedes fall," he was referring specifically to Uncle Mitya. Blinded by pride, Uncle Mitya took a few steps and fell into a hole with a telephone cable.

Within seconds, the whole house knew about his adventure. As he fell, Uncle Mitya broke down in a fragile place, and put into his scream all the expression a forty-year-old electrician is capable of.

Intrigued neighbours came out onto the balconies. They were able to ascertain what was happening from the sounds and phrases, and someone called an ambulance. While the ambulance was on its way to Golechikhinsky Lane, Uncle Mitya managed to enrich the Russian language with six new verbal adjectives and proslocated the word "pit" in eleven different ways.

The doctor arrived, shined his headlights into the pit and was amazed at how low a man could sink. Uncle Mitya was taken out of the pit and nicely dressed in a cast.

For the next two months Uncle Mitya resembled a porcelain pussy with his white rounded forms. The first week he had an excruciating desire for a drink, the rest of the time he spent dreaming of scratching himself. Under the cast Uncle Mitya grew back nicely, when they took him out, he immediately went and bought a half-litre. Things piled up, he was anxious to catch up.

A week later, water was also lost in house No. 7 on Goleshikhinsky Lane.

An excavator came looking for pipes.

He did not find any.

Alexey Berezin

 
 
 
 
 
Mischek:
One day M. went for a walk with his dog and walked into the market
He got teary-eyed. Thank you.
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