Crazy Detective. Funny detective. StaVl Zosimov Premudroslovsky

not have money or medicine.

      – Well, that is solvable. Everything pays the budget. If we find the nose.

      – And if we do not find it?

      – And if we do not find it, then all expenses will be deducted… from you.

      – How so?

      – And like this. If you still ask stupid questions, you can lose your job. Got it?

      – That’s right, understood. When are we going?

      – Stupid question. We should already be there. Let’s go now!

      – Why so soon? I didn’t pack my suitcase?

      – We must always keep it ready. You knew where you were getting a job… By the way, the same thing…

      – What?

      – I did not pack my suitcase. Yes, we do not need them. Upon arrival, buy what you need. I have a bank card.

      – And if there is not enough money?

      – He will throw. – and again the district policeman poked a finger at the ceiling and in a pygmy style jumped, using somersaults, onto the table, waving a foot in front of the colleague’s nose. He got to his feet and crossed the table on foot in the direction from Arutun to his chair. Tears and headed for the exit.

      – Why are you sitting? go! – and waved his hand, – and, as if along along St. Petersburg, swept over the Earth…

      They left the stronghold, leaving only a note in chalk on the door:

      “Do not worry. We left on an urgent assignment to St. Petersburg. You stay in the place of Incephalate, and Izya – instead of me.. Me!”

      And at the bottom is the addition in another handwriting:

      “Sorry, Pupsik, I’ll be back as I have to! While your Flea is walking up. Wait for me and I’ll be back. Maybe one…”

      Izya read the note and, writing on the sheet in the handwriting of his father and Intsefalopat, hid it in his pocket and wiped the inscription from the door.

      – Well, old goat, you got it. – I took my mobile phone and sent SMS to my father. Then he went into the house and gave the note to his mother. She read and shrugged.

      Let him ride. We will replace it. And not a word about the continuation of the father. Got it?

      – Of course, mother, I understand… And let’s take the pig from the headmaster, ahh? he suggested.

      – What are you? We must do everything according to the charter and justice.

      – And he yells at me in fairness?

      – He is the director. He knows better. And he himself will be justified before God.

      – Is that the one hanging on the wall in the office?

      – Nearly. There hangs Iron Felix, his deputy. Okay, go do your homework.

      – I did. Mom, can I go for a walk on the river?

      – Go, but remember, puppy: drown, don’t come home. I’ll kill you… Got it?

      – Yes. – Izzy shouted and disappeared behind the door…

      – Uuh, – the controller, a native of some Latvian collective farm, shook her head, letting visitors through. – There is no conscience, it’s obvious that the face is not Russian, and the general’s uniform pulled on.

      – And there is an administrative punishment for it.. – explained Sergeant Golytko, a native of Lviv.

      – And here is my passport, with a screech, Harutun Karapetovich and handed him a penta. – Russian. I am Russian, mine!

      – Like me, – added a pent

      – And I. – bulging out her eyes, the controller added.

      – Well, you’re all right. – The leaf passport pronounced the pent, – although for a second, – looked from under the foreheads, – are you an artist? – into the multi-colored eyes, after which he lowered his studying look at the ears, – or zoophile?

      Ottila’s eyes hatched and he neighed like a gelding, looking at Intsefalopat. The corporal reddened.

      – Well, stitch, with which cattle depot you, or at home culture? – the attendant handed the passport to Harutun.

      – What kind of artist am I? I am not a full-time assistant to the local village of Sokolov Stream, Leningrad Region.

      – Oh, gored, get out of here. – the duty officer suggested.

      – This is my identification.

      – Corporal, you say? – the sergeant scratched his cheek and put a seed in his mouth. – well, you’re free, and this one will come with me.

      – What does it mean, “come with me”? – the Bedbug was indignant. – Let me call my boss now? He will set your brains…

      – You call, you call there, in my office, and in the beginning I’ll test you for a search, maybe you are a Chechen terrorist or you escaped from your parents. Come on, let’s go. the servant scolded and simply shoved him: either with the butt or with the barrel, Ottil was entrusted to him with an assault rifle in the railway guard duty room train station. Ancephalopath followed him and even wanted to go on fire with his Ottila, as it seemed to Klop, immediately disappeared behind the column and pretended not to know Klop.

      – Harutun, call Isolde, let him bring the documents! – shouted Klop.

      “And quicker,” added the sergeant, “otherwise he will stay with us for a long time.”

      – And when will it be released? asked Harutun.

      – How to establish a person…

      – Three days? – the old man smiled.

      – Or maybe three years. – answered the attendant. – if he will not resist the authorities. – and slammed the door from the inside.

      Incephalopath, with the fingers of his left hand, hugged his thin chin and, meowing under his nose, decided to carry out the assignment, which suited him and his Boss. He quickly walked out of the station into the street and immediately stopped.

      – Where am I going? Harutun asked himself.

      – To Isolde, you fool. – answered sarcastically an inner voice.

      – So there is no money? What will I go to?

      – And you, for the sake of your beloved, steal, over there, from that fat-faced man sitting in a black jeep.

      – Her, she’ll beat her face. And not supposed to, I’m a pent?!

      And while Harutun consulted with his inner voice, Klop, having given his data, modestly dozed off while sitting in a monkey.

      – Hey bum, good fart! – Shouted the attendant. Ottila flinched and opened her bulging eyes. He mopped his mouth and, feeling a slush in his mouth, tried to collect his saliva with his tongue, but there was not enough dampness in his mouth and he asked for a toilet.

      – Colleague, can I use the toilet?

      “It is possible,” the elders answered good-naturedly, “but if you wash it.”

      – Why? – Ottila was indignant, – I’m a detainee, but you have a cleaning lady in your state and she needs to wash the floor.

      – Should but not be obliged to wash dolnyak after such stinking homeless people. Well, so how?

      – I will not wash a point! – Generally Bedbug said categorically.

      – Well then shit