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....but I was busy and was writing only few sentences a day :( I promise to do better next time.

- You look at this guy, mommy? - Nathaliia thought the alcohol swallowed by Gulzhan may have caused some brain damage and the visions that normally shouldn't appear, even if that man was disguisting. She had to push her slowly forwards.
- I can't believe... - the older woman raved.
- Yeah, lotsa emotion, bad day, bad guy. He looks like this for real, this whole Sandra Costea chick was telling me about him. It's the owner of this hotel, actually. Can't be very happy at this moment though

Investigation against the Czech Republic's citizen went surprisingly quickly and (almost) wasn't painful. It's because the control was given to inspector Wojciech Wnęk and this Polish of heritage, Swedish of nationality, dyslectic of nature policeman has always had the incredible luck of attending places where crimes were happening or were about to happen. No matter how the workmates could mock him or how much his official reports resembled poorman's crime stories left in the public communication system. This man was a "Dirty Harry", the lone fighter against Stockholm's depravation. Was called "Filthy Wojciech".

Filthy Wojciech was on his way home, when an unidentified character sitting on the bridge's edge caught his attention. In the dark it was hard to guess what exactly was the person doing, but for instance it could have been a suicidal attempt, or an illegal bridge-fishing attempt, and that second activity definitely deserved an official fine. Filthy Wojciech turned on his public serviceman option and jumped out of the car to fight against a forbidden place fisher. Actually... the stone kept on the knees of a mysterious man taking a position on the bridge's edge looked either like alternative fishing or had to be used on other purpose. His facelook seemed to shout: "I beg for a saviour!".

- My wife is ruined - he said to the policeman.
- I am your friend, I want to help you - the law warder answered, with the golden rule taught on the courses "how to talk to a potential suicider".
- Are you my friend? - repeated the suicider.
- Yes... your bunny... rear - calmly said inspector Wnęk.
- What are you fokin' telling me? - suicider turned around with a sudden move, to cause the stone falling in the bay alone.
The man lost his balance. Tried to catch the barrier. Filthy Wojciech reacted rapidly and caught suicider's hand.
- Not a bunny's rear but a buddy for real. Man, get yourself some English lessons - the rescued type laughtered.
Inspector gave him a discontented look. Didn't enjoy anybody taking a piss at his disorder. When observing the new "buddy" with the sight exposing all the possible shades of a hidden "shut up", Filthy Wojciech started to recall himself the memory portrait of that cursed hotel's inhabitant. Suited too well to be true.
- You said you wife was bank-robbed? - he started carefully.
- Yeah... bankrupt. If you're my bunny's rear you should borrow me few thousands bucks.
- Few thousands... sucks? - inspector Wnęk repeated like in fever. Puzzles started to work.
- Oh sucks, sucks! A fat one! - grieved the Czech.
- Mister Tomas Berdshit.... you're under aghast - said inspector Wnęk with a stiff face.
- Aghast of what? You, my bunny? - Tomas laughed until he figured he was being handcuffed. - Under arrest? Oh, fok! For what? Is it forbidden to lose father-in-law's money or to commit suicides in Stockholm????

No complaints could help him. He was packed into a private car of Filthy Wojciech and transported to the police station.

Passers-by could only hear the screams and roars:
- That's not how real friends behave! Fok, fok, foooook!!!!
 
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