Conversation with a Smile

I've been waiting for this day for quite a long time, and finally my turn has come...
This morning at work, I was called by the head of the regime department, who escorted me to a room where political secret police officers from Center E were already waiting, including the well-known Lesha-Smile .

Sneering mockingly, they politely asked if I understood the reason why I was in this room with them. For my part, I asked them whether I was detained, and, if not, then, due to my reluctance to communicate with them without a lawyer, whether I could continue to fulfill my official duties, which no one had relieved me of yet. They made it clear that I was not the detainee, but I wouldn’t wait for a lawyer, and I would have to listen to everything they wanted to say. In response, I made it clear that I did not want to communicate with them in an informal style, clearly distinguishing between work and, as they themselves deigned to put it, their “hobby”, which I do exclusively in my free time from work.

As one would expect, I was offered “cooperation” with the “purpose of identifying anti-state activities” in my environment. Having made it clear that I refused to cooperate on principle, and that further conversation would take place only in the presence of my lawyer after following all the necessary formal procedures, I fell silent. They offered, since I didn’t want to “cooperate,” to at least just write something like an explanatory note about what I’m doing here, but having received the assurance that on principle I do not work with secret documents and on principle I would not write anything without a lawyer, they resorted to persuasion , turning into a wide variety of threats and mockery “KGB style” regarding my unenviable future in case of refusal of “cooperation”.

Friends! To avoid further misunderstandings, now I want to confess to you. Much more than 10 years ago, during my reckless youth, I was taken with a small amount of marijuana, which would not have been enough even for half a joint. Those who took me also tried to “agree on concepts” so that if I pointed out who I bought it from and “desire to cooperate in the future,” the matter would be hushed up. Since there was no “willingness to cooperate,” a case was opened under Part 1 of Article 228. Here they reminded me of this: “Pavel Sergeevich, you understand that when you are detained with drugs planted on you, no one will believe that they were planted on you?”

Therefore, I want to make an official statement. The day that case was opened against me was the last time I allowed myself these teenage “pranks”, and basically I didn’t have anything to do with it anymore. Even if I had something similar at the moment, it’s not difficult to understand what kind of idiot you would have to be not to flush it down the toilet right now with the goal of never touching anything like that again. I am not such an idiot, and therefore, if the “foresight” of the gentlemen from the secret police is destined to come true, then the elements of the “crime” will be “carefully” thrown at me solely for the sake of revenge for refusing to snitch.

Realizing that these threats, as well as threats of dismissal, did not dispose me either to “cooperate” or to talk, more “armour-piercing” arguments were used. We remembered my participation in the action on Bolotnaya on May 6, 2012, and the possible involvement in the “Bolotnaya case,” as well as my loved ones, who, if I “played the hero,” would face an unenviable fate. Seeing that this did not encourage me to talk, they suddenly “were imbued with respect” and, expressing “admiration” for my perseverance, they said that they really didn’t want me to repeat the fate of Alexander Dolmatov, who, like me, worked at a sensitive enterprise, who knew “secrets that the enemies needed so much” and who had to die.

Seeing that as before , I continue to sit silently, staring at the ceiling, counting the number of blinds and squares on the ceiling, the “polite people” were “sincerely” concerned about my mental health, saying that, due to my inadequacy, they “will have to” call the orderlies from the psychiatric hospital. Carefully observing my reaction, they even allegedly began to “call”... But the show cannot last forever, and, again, more for the sake of formality, threatening that they would call the head of the regime department and petition for my dismissal, instead of the orderlies, they invited on the phone of the head of the regime department who had been absent from the room all this time. Forced by the duty of an unenviable service to stick their noses into the Kalash row, the secret police pathetically voiced to the head of the regime that, in their “authoritative opinion,” I am a drug addict and a traitor, and therefore, they believe that I “have no place in this enterprise.”
Having inquired whether I could finally begin my official duties, and having received an affirmative answer, I set off to finish the work from which these parasites had so inappropriately distracted me.

PS : If not for this “meeting,” I would never have learned such “secret” information as the number of blinds on the window and squares on the ceiling of the conversation room in the regime department, as well as all the abomination of the methods of “working with citizens” of the worthless department “ Center E" in a country that is still formally democratic and legal. Security guys! Your “work” has further confirmed me, better than any “enemy voices,” in the correctness and necessity of what you today called my “hobby.” From your faces, I realized today that your faith in what you are doing is much weaker than what I have.

Source: https://www.facebook.com/pavel.kuznetsov2/posts/10203974849201392