Translated material
How a guest worker beat Natsik
Friends, today is a wonderful, wonderful day! Which nothing can ruin for me.
I went to the store. I come out of the entrance, see Giyaz with a broom, and say hello as usual.
Giyaz is a janitor. About three years ago, he and his family came to Moscow from Kyrgyzstan, when it became completely unbearable to live there. Naturally, he works for pennies. Like his entire family, including his 10-11 year old daughter, who considers it her duty to help her father remove fallen leaves from the sidewalk, although she is not at all obligated to do this.
Giyaz is short, thin, modest, even shy, polite, smiling, sober. Always ready to help women drag their strollers into the entrance. Always ready to help you take an old cabinet or refrigerator out into the street. You have to force money into him for this, and only if you catch up with him. In general, a typical migrant worker, a potential tasty sacrifice for our home-grown Aryans.
As I was leaving the yard, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a piece of meat. It lounged imposingly on a bench, drinking beer. Classically shaved, hefty - one and a half centners, no less - it looked like an Aryan icon: biceps, triceps, all the bullshit, tattoos, almost a swastika on his forehead. It's dangerous, bitch, to meet someone like that in a dark alley - you can't do without a knife if you plan to survive. This is the first time I have seen such guests in our ghetto.
It stared with pewter pig eyes at the back of a migrant worker who had arrived in large numbers in the non-rubber metropolis. Even then I sensed something was wrong. But * ole - I need to go to the store urgently.
I return from the store and see: Giyaz and it are standing on the path. It firmly holds the dude by the neck with its huge paw and whispers in his ear - I don’t hear what, but I can imagine: you bitch, fucking lump, monkey, fuck you in large numbers, creature, this is our land, blah -blah blah...
Giyaz stands obediently, as befits a slave, lowering his eyes to the ground, patiently listens to this whole nightmare and is silent. Leaving the shopping bag under the tree, I went to them, hoping that when I suddenly punched the animal in the nose, the Kyrgyz would not run away and would support me. We can handle this together, mai bi.
But I didn’t have time to get there. I stood there with my mouth open and couldn’t believe my eyes. Quickly looking around, Giyaz made a completely elusive shoulder gesture. I swear I still don’t understand how he did it. Then he picked up the broom, smiled at me like a conspirator, and ran away to his janitor’s cell. And I was left to watch the shameful collapse of the idea of racial purity. At first she fell to her knees with surprise on her snout. Then blood started gushing out of her nose. Then she fell onto her side, grunting and kicking her legs.
Having admired it enough, I picked up the package and went home, trying not to step in it. A grandmother and her grandson were walking towards me. They stopped near the suffering Natsik, and the grandmother clearly said: “Are you finished, idiot?”
After that I fell and am still lying there. Today is a wonderful day, friends. *er will ruin it.