On 5th Avenue

Vova and Tim were walking down Fifth Avenue in search of a beer shop.

"Wednesday is a beer day!" Vova announced.

"I would drink dry wine," Tim gently objected.

Finally, a portable trade with drinks was found and they packaged (two bottles in each hand) and went on. Tim was smoking.

The oncoming homeless asked for a smoke. Tim put the bottles on the pavement and let him smoke. Lighting a cigarette, Bum said pointing to one of the bottles, "And a bottle of beer, please." Tim silently picked up the bottles and moved on.

There was a cozy coffee house where Vova and Tim had drunk their beer with pleasure and leisurely.

"Where can we find John?" Vova asked.

"I don't care," Tim said and went to bed right on the pavement.

Vova looked around, an African American was walking by.

"Hey, you! Do you have a small change?" Vova brazenly asked him.

"Haven't, not at all," he answered.

Another African American appeared and pointing at Vova asked his friend, "what the hell are you talking to him for?"

Without hesitation, Vova rushed at him. But he ducked down and Vova flew over him, broke through a green fence and fell into a fetid ditch.

"Freshen up, disrespectful boy!" Vova heard from above.