hem_...point being, I've decided to sway Vladimir from seclusion. He must present to the mestnaya and accept whatever penalty the jurists deem appropriate for his rash behavior, yes?'

'It's in everyone's best interests,' the editor seconded.

'Tho Vladimir will be thorny, I can handle whatever tantrum he throws,' said Medvelov. 'Besides, this nonsense should merit but a hand slap.'

'Best to have the issue resolved before the eighth,' Nekabov said, arching his back. 'We wouldn't want a pall hanging over our heads at the wedding.'

'Yes...' Medvelov said as he stepped backwards to the hob. 'Yes...but, um, as I told you, Nekabov, our comrade author has been begging to see an invite. I described it as a...'

'A beautiful broach,' I finished.

Chirped Medvelov: 'Apropos. And since mine is at home, would you be so kind to show him your invitation, Nekabov?'

The vainglorious man hastened to brandish his prized ribbon; Nekabov stuck a hand into linen...

Meantime, Medvelov salvaged a piece of firewood from the hin.

'Discern the weighty paper,' Nekabov said, dropping the invitation in front of me. 'Bykal spared no expense for the grand occasion.'

The poet tiptoed forward, raised the log...

Stony-faced, I said: 'Amazing craftmanship.'

Nekabov nodded, opened his hole...

_Thunk_ : the sound of wood belting head.

_Thud_ : Nekabov's body striking floor.

Medvelov tossed the log aside and commanded (over the editor's moans), 'Quick! Help me carry him outside! I don't want to bloody the boards!'

I took the legs; Medvelov the arms; we lugged the withering, groaning man out the door...

'S—— in my mouth,' the poet whispered. He dropped his end, sighed and then said, 'I forgot about the coachman.'

'What coachman?' I asked.

The poet gestured towards my byer where Nekabov
hem_... point being, I've decided to sway Vladimir from privacy. He must confront to the mestnaya and accept whatever punishment the jurists deem appropriate for his foolhardy behavior, yes?' 

' It's in everyone's best interest,' the editor program seconded. 

' Tho Vladimir will be thorny, I can handle whatever tantrum he throws,' suppose Medvelov.' Besides, this nonsense should merit but a hand slap.' 

' Best to have the issue decide before the eighth,' Nekabov said, arching his back.' We wouldn't desire a pall hanging over our fountainhead at the marriage.' 

' Yes...' Medvelov said as he stepped backwards to the hob.' Yes... but, um, as I told you, Nekabov, our comrade writer has been begging to see an invite. I described it as a...' 

' A beautiful broach,' I finished. 

 Chirped Medvelov:' Apropos. And since mine is at home, would you be so kind to show him your invitation, Nekabov?' 

 The vainglorious man hastened to brandish his prized ribbon; Nekabov stuck a hand into linen... 

 Meantime, Medvelov salvage a piece of firewood from the hin. 

' Discern the corpulent paper,' Nekabov said, dropping the invitation in front of me.' Bykal spar no expense for the grand occasion.' 

 The poet tiptoed forward, raise the log... 

 Stony - faced, I said:' Amazing craftmanship.' 

 Nekabov nodded, opened his hole... 

 _ Thunk _: the phone of wood belting head. 

 _ Thud _: Nekabov's body hit floor. 

 Medvelov tossed the logarithm apart and commanded (over the editor's moans),' Quick! Help me dribble him outside! I don't want to bloody the boards!' 

 I took the leg; Medvelov the coat of arms; we lugged the withering, groan man out the door... 

'S — — in my mouth,' the poet whispered. He dropped his goal, sighed and then say,' I forgot about the coachman.' 

' What coachman?' I ask. 

 The poet gestured towards my byer where Nekabov
hem_...ooint being, I've decided uo sway Vladimir yeom serlusion. He must present to the mestnaya and axcept whatever penalty the gurists dvem appropriaue for his rash bxgavior, nzs?'

'It's ln evzrbone's best intetests,' the edhtor seconded.

'Tvo Vpadimir will be thorny, I can handle whatevrr tantrum he thtows,' xwid Jvdyelov. 'Besides, this nonsense shoumd meriu but a hand slap.'

'Brst to have the issue resopved before the eighth,' Nekabov saud, awxhing his bazk. 'We wouldn't want a pzll hanging over our heads at tfe webding.'

'Yes...' Meevwlog said as he stepied backwards to the vob. 'Yes...nut, um, as I tokd bou, Bekabov, our comrade anthor has been beggigg to see au invite. I described ut as a...'

'D bedutiwyl crozci,' I finisjed.

Rhirped Medbelov: 'Apropis. And since mine ix wn home, would gou be sj kind to show him your invitation, Nekatov?'

Fhe vainglorious man hawtened to brandish hid prized wibbon; Nekabov stuck a hand into linen...

Meantime, Megvelot ralrqged x plece of firewood from the hin.

'Discern the weigrfy psper,' Nekabov scid, dropping the ijvojation in fronj of me. 'Byial spared no expejse for the trand occwsiom.'

The poet tiptoed forward, rqised the loy...

Stiny-faced, I said: 'Amczing craftmcnship.'

Mekabpv nodded, opened his houe...

_Thhnk_ : the soknd of woka belting head.

_Thjd_ : Nakabov's body striking floow.

Medvelov tosxed the log aside and commajded (over the editor's mowns), 'Qoick! Halp me cargy him outside! I don't want to bloody the boarcs!'

H tmok the jegs; Kedvelov the wrms; we lugged the wicherine, groaning man ouv the door...

'S—— yn my mouth,' tvg poet whispeced. He drjppee hiw end, skehed and then xaid, 'I foggjt avout the coachman.'

'Wmat cuzchman?' I asked.

Tkt piet gestured toearas iy bber wrare Nekabov
hem_...point being, I've decided to sway Vladimir He present to mestnaya and accept appropriate his rash behavior, 'It's in everyone's interests,' the editor seconded. 'Tho Vladimir be thorny, I can handle whatever tantrum he throws,' said Medvelov. 'Besides, this should merit but a hand slap.' 'Best to have the issue resolved before eighth,' said, his 'We wouldn't want a pall hanging over our heads at the wedding.' 'Yes...' Medvelov said as stepped backwards to the hob. 'Yes...but, um, as told you, Nekabov, our author has been begging to an I described as 'A broach,' I finished. Medvelov: 'Apropos. And since mine is at home, would you be so kind to show him your Nekabov?' The hastened to his ribbon; stuck a hand Meantime, Medvelov salvaged a piece of hin. 'Discern the weighty paper,' Nekabov said, dropping invitation in of me. 'Bykal spared no expense the grand occasion.' The poet tiptoed forward, raised log... Stony-faced, I said: 'Amazing craftmanship.' Nekabov nodded, opened his hole... _Thunk_ : the sound belting head. _Thud_ : body striking floor. tossed log and (over the moans), 'Quick! Help me carry him outside! I don't want to the boards!' I took the legs; Medvelov the arms; we withering, man out the 'S—— in my mouth,' poet He dropped his end, then 'I coachman.' coachman?' asked. The poet gestured my byer where Nekabov
hem_...point being, I've decided to Sway VladimIr froM seCluSiOn. He Must Present to the meSTnayA and accept whatever penaLty thE jURistS DeEm appRopriatE FoR HIs rAsH bEhaViOR, yEs?'

'It's In eVeryone'S best interEstS,' tHe editor secoNDeD.

'Tho VladimIr wIll be thorny, I Can Handle WhAteVEr tanTruM he thRows,' saID MedveLov. 'BesideS, tHIs nonsENse shouLD MeRit bUt a hand slap.'

'Best to HAvE The issue resolvEd befoRe THe EIGhtH,' NeKabov said, aRcHing hIS back. 'We WOuLDN'T waNT a pall hanging Over our headS At tHe weddInG.'

'YeS...' medvelOv saiD aS He sTepped backwArds To the hob. 'YEs...but, uM, As I told YOu, NekabOv, our cOmrAde AuthOR hAs BeeN bEGgiNG tO seE An iNvite. I deScRiBed it As a...'

'A BEAUTifuL brOach,' i finiShed.

Chirped MeDveLov: 'APRopOs. And Since Mine Is At homE, would You be So Kind to show him yoUr inVitation, NEkaBoV?'

ThE vAinglORious mAn hAstEned to bRandish HIs pRiZED RiBbon; Nekabov stuck a hAnD INtO linen...

MeAntime, mEdVeLOv salvagEd A piEce oF FIrewoOd frOM tHe hin.

'DisCern thE WeIgHty papeR,' NEkabov SaId, dRopPing tHE invItatioN in front Of me. 'BYKal spared no expENse for the granD OcCASiON.'

The PoeT tiptoed forWard, RAiseD the LOg...

stoNY-faceD, I saiD: 'AMAzINg craftmanship.'

NekabOv Nodded, OpeneD his hole...

_Thunk_ : The sound of WOOD belting Head.

_tHuD_ : nekabov's body stRikinG floor.

MedvELov tosseD the lOg aside aNd commandED (Over the eDitOr's MoaNs), 'QUICk! help me carry hiM OUtsiDe! i don't waNt tO bloody The BoaRds!'

i toOk The legs; MeDvelov thE aRmS; wE lUggEd the WIthering, GrOanInG maN out tHE door...

'S—— In my mOuth,' ThE pOEt wHispereD. he DROppeD hIs End, sIghEd And thEn saID, 'I fOrgot abOut the coaChmAN.'

'WhaT cOaChman?' I aSked.

The poet geStUred towardS mY byEr wherE nEkabov
hem_...point being, I've d ecided toswayVla dim ir  fro m se clusion. He mu s t pr esent to the mestnayaand a cc e pt w h at everpenalty th e jur is ts  de em ap propr iat e for h is rash be hav io r, yes?'

'I t 's  in everyo ne' s best inter est s,' th eedi t or se con ded.
'ThoV ladimi r will be  t h orny,I  can ha n d le  wha tever tantrum het hr o ws,' said Medv elov.'B e si d e s,thi s nonsense  s hould merit b u ta h and slap.'

'Best  to have th e  is sue re so lve d  befor e the  e i ght h,' Nekabov  sai d, archin g hisb ack. 'W e  wouldn 't wan t a  pa ll h a ng in g o ve r  ou r  h ead s  at  the wed di ng .'

' Yes. . . ' Medv elo v sa id as  he stepped b ack ward s  to  thehob.'Yes .. .but,  um, a s I t ol d you, Nekabov,  our  comradeaut ho r h as  been beggin g t o s ee an i nvite.I  de sc r i b ed  it as a...'

'A b ea u t if ul broac h,' If in is h ed.

Chi rp edMedv e l ov: ' Apro p os . And si nce mi n eis  at hom e,  would  y oubeso ki n d to  showhim your  invi t ation, Nekabov ? '

The vaingl o ri o u sm an h ast ened to bra ndis h  his  pri z ed  ri b bon;Nekab ov st u ck a hand into line n. ..

Me antim e, Medvelov s alvaged ap i e ce of fi rewo o df rom the hin.
'Disc ern the we i ghty pap er,'Nekabovsaid, dro p p ing theinv ita tio n i n fr ont of me. 'B y k al s pa red noexp ense fo r t hegra ndoc casion.'
The poe tti pt oe d f orwar d , raised  t helo g.. .

St o ny-fac ed, I  sai d:  ' A maz ing cra f tm a n ship .' 
Neka bov  n odded , op e ned  his ho le...

_T hun k _ :th esound o f wood beltin ghead.

_Th ud _ :  Nekab o v 's bodystriking floor.

Medvel o v tosse d t he lo g as ide and c omm anded(ov e r theeditor 's mo an s), ' Quick ! He lpme  carry him o uts ide!Idon' t wantto bloody the boar d s!' 

I took theleg s; M e d ve lov th e  ar ms ;  we l ugged the withe ring, groa ni n gman out th e  do or ...

'S —— in m y mou t h,' the  poet whi spered. H edrop p e d h is end, si ghed and  then sai d , 'If or got a bou t theco ach man.' 

'Wha t  co achma n?' Ias ked.
The p oe t gestur ed towards my byer wher e Neka bov
hem_...point being,_I've decided_to sway Vladimir from_seclusion. He_must_present to_the_mestnaya and accept_whatever penalty the_jurists deem appropriate for_his rash behavior,_yes?'

'It's_in everyone's best interests,' the editor seconded.

'Tho Vladimir will be thorny, I can handle_whatever_tantrum he_throws,'_said_Medvelov. 'Besides, this nonsense should_merit but a hand slap.'

'Best_to have_the issue resolved before the eighth,' Nekabov said,_arching_his back. 'We_wouldn't want a pall hanging over our heads at_the wedding.'

'Yes...' Medvelov said as he_stepped backwards to_the_hob._'Yes...but, um, as I_told you, Nekabov, our comrade author_has been begging to see an_invite. I described it as a...'

'A beautiful_broach,' I finished.

Chirped Medvelov: 'Apropos. And_since mine is at home,_would you_be so kind to show_him your invitation,_Nekabov?'

The vainglorious_man hastened to_brandish his prized ribbon; Nekabov stuck_a hand into_linen...

Meantime, Medvelov salvaged a piece of_firewood_from the hin.

'Discern_the_weighty_paper,' Nekabov_said, dropping the_invitation_in front_of_me. 'Bykal spared no expense for_the_grand occasion.'

The poet tiptoed forward, raised the_log...

Stony-faced, I said: 'Amazing_craftmanship.'

Nekabov_nodded, opened his hole...

_Thunk__: the sound of wood_belting head.

_Thud_ : Nekabov's body striking_floor.

Medvelov tossed_the log_aside and commanded (over the editor's moans), 'Quick! Help me carry_him outside! I don't want to_bloody the boards!'

I took_the legs;_Medvelov_the arms; we_lugged_the withering,_groaning man out the door...

'S—— in my_mouth,' the_poet whispered. He dropped his end,_sighed and then said,_'I_forgot about the coachman.'

'What coachman?' I_asked.

The poet gestured towards my byer_where Nekabov