neverending thread

[Красота-то какая]

The morning was cloudy when he locked the door and went by his usual way to the bookstore. It started to drizzle. Unfortunately, "it" wasn't the clouds, but a dog standing on the roof overhead. Suddenly he remembered that today is FRIDAY, and decided to drink some beer after work. He couldn't explain why such a strange thought had come to his mind so suddenly in the bookstore. He stood in the middle of the store, gazing at the shelves when the door bell rang behind his back. He turned round and couldn't believe his eyes. It was his father he hadn't seen for ages!
"Dimitry, my son!" the old man cried. His face was wet with tears of joy.
"Where have you been for so many years?" mumbled Dimitry hardly moving his lips. Then they both stood silently just watching each other - the father and the son.
"Stop, catched!" shouted the director, "Wonderful! wonderful! You have never played like this before!"
The film was about a man, that had found treasures, hidden by his father-pirate, and the most interesting thing was that the story had been based on the real events!
Having thought for a few seconds, the director decided to shoot another take: Take 2!
"No way!" Dimitry said in a disappointed tone, "I shan't say a word before I get my coffee!!"
"Alright," said the director knowing that if he didn't allow Dimitry to have a cup of coffee, Dimitry wouldn't be able to act as well as he had a few minutes before. He tried to put down one crazy thought that sprang into his mind: Arsenic in the cup.
"Why, why this damn director so hates me? I never pretend to be a Bradd Pit...but i`m not so bad at all!"- thinking Dimitry, heading to nearby cafe. One thought had come over his mind, he stopped the film and said: "why don't we find treasures, I've heard they really exist!"
'Oh, damn! What the hell are you talking about?!' bursted up the director.
"They DO exist. I mean it", said Dmitry, eyeing the red face of the director and thinking that he'd never seen so red a face in his life.
Thinking that John (this was his real name) felt he has got a headache.
"I mean, we can use the materials of the story to find it!", John said, his face was shining. "I have already plotted our trip to Siberia!"
"Is it the center of Russia, lost in Asia?" asked the director.
Bloody fool, John thought. I'm tired to explain simple things to him all the bloody time!
It was a turning-point...Jone was strongly opposed to realize all his plans...
The rain stopped meanwhile, and John suddenly found out that the red-faced director disappeared and his coffee got cold already.
'What's going on?' thought John, perplexedly gazing around.
He was no longer in the cafe: the poor actor stood in the middle of a dreary, boundless moor with a cup of cold coffee in one hand; in the other he held a copy of the script the enraged, red-faced director had just rudely handed to him.
"This project is cancelled!!" The director hollered, "There's no way in hell our budget could ever fund some silly treasure hunt!" He then stormed away, stomping back into the dimly-lit studio past the cameras and props.
"But I'll manage with all of the problems, I've got money!" said John gaily.
John was a gay, that is to say he liked men, especially men who dressed as women. When John pondered such thoughts, they seemed quite inexplicable at first, but the intense and dedicated method-actor who spent countless hours on the film set - while being a huge fan of movies himself, could only relate his real identity to the lead character in 'Breakfast on Pluto'. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man appeared before him, uttering strange words to which John listened in confusion (for he had utterly no idea what the man was talking about) - "only Russians are allowed to post in this thread", the man said vehemently. John hiccuped "ik!" in response to this piece of intelligence, because he suffered from a dreadful hangover and also because he didn't really know what to say.

[Gordon Freeman]

The morning was cloudy when he locked the door and went by his usual way to the bookstore. It started to drizzle. Unfortunately, "it" wasn't the clouds, but a dog standing on the roof overhead. Suddenly he remembered that today is FRIDAY, and decided to drink some beer after work. He couldn't explain why such a strange thought had come to his mind so suddenly in the bookstore. He stood in the middle of the store, gazing at the shelves when the door bell rang behind his back. He turned round and couldn't believe his eyes. It was his father he hadn't seen for ages!
"Dimitry, my son!" the old man cried. His face was wet with tears of joy.
"Where have you been for so many years?" mumbled Dimitry hardly moving his lips. Then they both stood silently just watching each other - the father and the son.
"Stop, catched!" shouted the director, "Wonderful! wonderful! You have never played like this before!"
The film was about a man, that had found treasures, hidden by his father-pirate, and the most interesting thing was that the story had been based on the real events!
Having thought for a few seconds, the director decided to shoot another take: Take 2!
"No way!" Dimitry said in a disappointed tone, "I shan't say a word before I get my coffee!!"
"Alright," said the director knowing that if he didn't allow Dimitry to have a cup of coffee, Dimitry wouldn't be able to act as well as he had a few minutes before. He tried to put down one crazy thought that sprang into his mind: Arsenic in the cup.
"Why, why this damn director so hates me? I never pretend to be a Bradd Pit...but i`m not so bad at all!"- thinking Dimitry, heading to nearby cafe. One thought had come over his mind, he stopped the film and said: "why don't we find treasures, I've heard they really exist!"
'Oh, damn! What the hell are you talking about?!' bursted up the director.
"They DO exist. I mean it", said Dmitry, eyeing the red face of the director and thinking that he'd never seen so red a face in his life.
Thinking that John (this was his real name) felt he has got a headache.
"I mean, we can use the materials of the story to find it!", John said, his face was shining. "I have already plotted our trip to Siberia!"
"Is it the center of Russia, lost in Asia?" asked the director.
Bloody fool, John thought. I'm tired to explain simple things to him all the bloody time!
It was a turning-point...Jone was strongly opposed to realize all his plans...
The rain stopped meanwhile, and John suddenly found out that the red-faced director disappeared and his coffee got cold already.
'What's going on?' thought John, perplexedly gazing around.
He was no longer in the cafe: the poor actor stood in the middle of a dreary, boundless moor with a cup of cold coffee in one hand; in the other he held a copy of the script the enraged, red-faced director had just rudely handed to him.
"This project is cancelled!!" The director hollered, "There's no way in hell our budget could ever fund some silly treasure hunt!" He then stormed away, stomping back into the dimly-lit studio past the cameras and props.
"But I'll manage with all of the problems, I've got money!" said John gaily.
John was a gay, that is to say he liked men, especially men who dressed as women. When John pondered such thoughts, they seemed quite inexplicable at first, but the intense and dedicated method-actor who spent countless hours on the film set - while being a huge fan of movies himself, could only relate his real identity to the lead character in 'Breakfast on Pluto'. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man appeared before him, uttering strange words to which John listened in confusion (for he had utterly no idea what the man was talking about) - "only Russians are allowed to post in this thread", the man said vehemently. John hiccuped "ik!" in response to this piece of intelligence, because he suffered from a dreadful hangover and also because he didn't really know what to say. Then all the people saw the Aliens!

[Rtyom]

Финита ля комедиа.

[Ramil]

Финита ля комедиа.

Отчего же:

The morning was cloudy when he locked the door and went by his usual way to the bookstore. It started to drizzle. Unfortunately, "it" wasn't the clouds, but a dog standing on the roof overhead. Suddenly he remembered that today is FRIDAY, and decided to drink some beer after work. He couldn't explain why such a strange thought had come to his mind so suddenly in the bookstore. He stood in the middle of the store, gazing at the shelves when the door bell rang behind his back. He turned round and couldn't believe his eyes. It was his father he hadn't seen for ages!
"Dimitry, my son!" the old man cried. His face was wet with tears of joy.
"Where have you been for so many years?" mumbled Dimitry hardly moving his lips. Then they both stood silently just watching each other - the father and the son.
"Stop, catched!" shouted the director, "Wonderful! wonderful! You have never played like this before!"
The film was about a man, that had found treasures, hidden by his father-pirate, and the most interesting thing was that the story had been based on the real events!
Having thought for a few seconds, the director decided to shoot another take: Take 2!
"No way!" Dimitry said in a disappointed tone, "I shan't say a word before I get my coffee!!"
"Alright," said the director knowing that if he didn't allow Dimitry to have a cup of coffee, Dimitry wouldn't be able to act as well as he had a few minutes before. He tried to put down one crazy thought that sprang into his mind: Arsenic in the cup.
"Why, why this damn director so hates me? I never pretend to be a Bradd Pit...but i`m not so bad at all!"- thinking Dimitry, heading to nearby cafe. One thought had come over his mind, he stopped the film and said: "why don't we find treasures, I've heard they really exist!"
'Oh, damn! What the hell are you talking about?!' bursted up the director.
"They DO exist. I mean it", said Dmitry, eyeing the red face of the director and thinking that he'd never seen so red a face in his life.
Thinking that John (this was his real name) felt he has got a headache.
"I mean, we can use the materials of the story to find it!", John said, his face was shining. "I have already plotted our trip to Siberia!"
"Is it the center of Russia, lost in Asia?" asked the director.
Bloody fool, John thought. I'm tired to explain simple things to him all the bloody time!
It was a turning-point...Jone was strongly opposed to realize all his plans...
The rain stopped meanwhile, and John suddenly found out that the red-faced director disappeared and his coffee got cold already.
'What's going on?' thought John, perplexedly gazing around.
He was no longer in the cafe: the poor actor stood in the middle of a dreary, boundless moor with a cup of cold coffee in one hand; in the other he held a copy of the script the enraged, red-faced director had just rudely handed to him.
"This project is cancelled!!" The director hollered, "There's no way in hell our budget could ever fund some silly treasure hunt!" He then stormed away, stomping back into the dimly-lit studio past the cameras and props.
"But I'll manage with all of the problems, I've got money!" said John gaily.
John was a gay, that is to say he liked men, especially men who dressed as women. When John pondered such thoughts, they seemed quite inexplicable at first, but the intense and dedicated method-actor who spent countless hours on the film set - while being a huge fan of movies himself, could only relate his real identity to the lead character in 'Breakfast on Pluto'. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man appeared before him, uttering strange words to which John listened in confusion (for he had utterly no idea what the man was talking about) - "only Russians are allowed to post in this thread", the man said vehemently. John hiccuped "ik!" in response to this piece of intelligence, because he suffered from a dreadful hangover and also because he didn't really know what to say. Then all the people saw the Aliens!

John realized that it was nearly an overdose, besides the dope seemed somehow weird...he was standing in the middle of Central Station of Amsterdam without any idea about how or why did he get there from Hamburg with his only posessions at the moment were clothes that he wore