Let's greet the boss

Look, I think I've figured out how to defeat the flashing lights. Well, not to win, of course, but at least to make the life of the inhabitants of all these coffin-like dick carriers unbearable.

Yesterday I was driving along Yakimanka in the left lane. Muscovites know very well that traffic jams in both directions on this street are common. Right in my forehead, emitting the northern lights from under the radiator grille and quacking disgustingly like a duck, the “six hundredth” is rushing. It’s clear that on the opposite side there is no dividing strip on Yakimanka. Everyone has to move to the right. And to those who are traveling in the same direction as him, and to those who, like me, are moving towards him. At the same time, I have nowhere to go - on the right is a KAMAZ, which I can reach the middle of the wheel. There are still two hundred meters to the enemy tank, and I have already replayed my favorite scenes from the movie “28 Panfilov’s Men” in my head. But I don’t have a bunch of grenades and I don’t have an anti-tank rifle. So, maybe a battering ram? What did Soviet pilots (pilot Gastello, for example) do when they ran out of ammunition? Of course, they went to ram. And they immediately became, by the way, heroes of the Soviet Union.

While these heroic thoughts were racing through my head, the Mercedes, grunting and quacking, reached me. Cursing, I, of course, began to cuddle up to the KAMAZ. In front of me, a girl in a Mazda tried to do the same maneuver - only she had a Gazelle on the side. And so, when an important government car almost smeared her over this very Gazelle, the girl honked a heart-rending horn, opened the window and showed the middle finger to the lackey behind the wheel. And it dawned on me.

Listen, my brothers, let's all buzz at the sight of these freaks. And don’t think that they don’t care behind their armored glass. They will all hear perfectly. Especially in traffic jams. Do you understand what this will happen? We will turn their movement around Moscow into hell. That is, all the way from their filthy Rublyovka to their filthy offices they will drive with the sound of our horns. And the main thing here is not to be afraid to overdo it. Blue plates, federal, different flashing lights - it doesn’t matter. If it’s not an ambulance, not the Ministry of Emergency Situations, not a fire truck, not the police - feel free to press the horn. And let them choke on this noise of ours, let their eardrums burst. By the way, you can also stick your finger out of the window - it won’t get any worse.