King Valka Khlyapin

The racketeering, or extortion of other people's income, was popular in the 90s and remains popular now. Until now, in the province of a gang of young hooligans, they hunt for small entrepreneurs, drug sellers and ordinary people - in the hope of earnings quickly and simply.

In the new issue from the Russian Gothic cycle, Mikhail Bokov will tell the story of the life and death of a young rack. He terrorized the whole city and fell victim to popular anger - almost the same as the crazy king of Targarien from the Game of Thrones.

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At sixteen, Valka Khlyapin took gold at the boxing championship of boxing. At seventeen was called to the Russian team. But soon after this, Valka decided that there was enough sports career from him. And he followed the path of jokes and an honest wean.

The life of Valkin decided the case. Once he widened at the Ryabinushka restaurant on Friday evening. The entrance was guarded by two of a casket, the same from the face - healthy bulls. They did not miss Valka: they decided that he was a drug addict. In boxing, Valentine performed in a rooster. He was thin, stooped and cut under a machine. I wore pants with three strips. Snowal with a broken nose.

“The fucking chop,” the bull-guard squeezed squeamishly from Valka. And with this gesture, as if driving a mosquito, signed a sentence in the heavenly protocol of fate - himself, Valka, and the innocent inhabitants of our town.

Valka suffered with such a misfortune: if he noticed that they were looking at him, if he caught his attention to his person, he began to clowning, arranged a clowning. Once at the school he made a hole in his pants pocket, stuck his household from the inside and went to classmates: “Love, and love, what is it in my pocket?” Lyuba rummages with his hand and cannot understand: “It seems like a warm something. A finger, or what? " And Valka and Slicks in the whole mouth: “Yeah! Finger!" Lyuba blushed, I understood everything - and ran away to cry with shame.

And another time, Valka suddenly staggered like drunk right in the ring. He squinted his eyes and sang. It was at the championship of the region. Valka was read to the champions. “Valentine! - the coach yelled at him. - Valentine, do not fool! " And seeing that he was zero attention, the coach prayed: “Valenka, dear, do not destroy! They will give me a prize for you, I will feed my family ... Beat him, dear, hit ... "

Valya finished the fight. The judge raised his hand, and he stood, stooped, feeble, and looked at the audience with cunning eyes. In the locker room, the coach then said: “Throw this stage, Valya! In the ring - work! Fun later! "

And then at the restaurant, Valka remembered the coaching order. And I decided to arrange fun. Yourself and the rest.

“People are good,” he said. - We collect the attraction!

The audience flowed past Valka: bandits, whores, honest women, worker people. Friday evening. The colognes are fragrant. And then Valka:

- For a penny, behind the ruble, who will give how much, I announce the competition! I argue for everything that I have! I argue on Mamkin's apartment! I argue that from one blow I will put this bull to sleep on the ground! - And pokes a finger at the guard.

The people became interesting. They crowded.

- And what, small, if you lose? - people asked.
“I’ll lose - I’ll give the keys,” Valka fell through the keys to his home.

Mom at that time drank tea and watched the program "Time". “Synochka is walking - and good, and let herself: a young thing,” she thought, not knowing that her son at the moment puts her odnushka on her.

- Well, throw the keys to the hat! - We took out a hat for a dispute. They bought money into a hat. Valka on top covered the money with keys.
- the bull will fall - you will take everything to yourself. It will not fall - say goodbye to the hut! - So the Udalza admonished.

Valka turned around. The bull-guard looked at him, chuckling. Come on, they say, choke. Show me kung fu. Valka showed. No one saw what happened - as if a cat with a paw, Valentine waved his hand, and a healthy guard had already fallen to the floor and jerked his foot.

- What? -did not understand his brother-twin.
- Do you want the second? - Entering the rage, Valka asked.
- We want! - the venerable audience shouted.
- Well, if you want, then take money then.

And he quickly threw him more money in a hat, and Valka turned around and - rrrasy! - The second bull lies on the ground. So Valka realized that an unprecedented art was given to him - to cut out people and that it is a sin not to earn on this art. He realized that the money was hanging on the trees. And you can knit them like those apples in September: you do not twitch, and they yourself will fall.

From this day, Valentin began to nimble.

To begin with, he gathered a brigade - all his friends from the yard: Kolka Lysy, Kolka David, Vaska Peps and Nicodemus. Vataga came out as a selection: all shaved, dark and sleepy. They have a tree to fall, that a person is not a difference. And Valka-Clown: He splashes with fun and foolishness-he entered the hunt for people to beat the faces and put on fear.

Started with drug addicts. There was darkness at that time: in the summer they cut a poppy in the gardens, the rest of the time the heroin was tormented by the gypsies. Valya began with friends at the gypsy cottage to guard and watch. As they see that a person has left the gypsies and will be piled up by the whole Codela. Plant in the car, dragged into the forest.

There, in a dark meadow, they are afraid of a person. Beat. The shovel is stuck in his hands.

- Dig the grave!

A person will cry, will fall to his knees, cling to Valkin's leg. Refused to dig.

- Then give the powder and carry the money!
- What money? Yes, I don't have ...
- Then dig a grave.

Nowhere to go. The poor man will leave everything that is, will leave his heroin in cellophane and goes to look for money - to give to the brigade and Valka. And the matter went so fun that Valka became the city king soon.

My car, a rusty "six", changed the brigade to the broken "Merce". Training changed to new trainings. They got a gold. Started in the Ryabinushka restaurant honorary guests. Bulls-guards, two of a casket, now seeing Valka, smiled: “Hello, Valentin Nikolaevich. How is your health, Valentin Nikolaevich? " And they missed - although they knew that inside Valentin Nikolaevich would be weird, do not go to the fortuneteller. Once in a man he poked a rose drunkenly. Another time he clung to the girl. Her guy who wanted to intercede, dropped and kicked his feet, lying.

Valka and the gypsy wanted to jump: to give trade to Russian people. Yes, only those were hooked: they shot into the air from Kalash - Valka and left with nothing.

But most of all it fell from Valka to the worker Luda. When there was a payer at the plant, but it was - if not delayed - the tenth of each month, Valka knew: a worker would want to go to the restaurant with money. And I waited there. He walked back and forth around the banquet room: he looked out who was spending more. He will see a hoplorous hard worker who brought his wife to treat, and nods his own: this one! And the roots are already rolling up to the hard worker - Kolka Bald and Kolka David.

- Let's talk?
“Guys, well, what are you,” the man waves away: good -natured, he came to rest, drank already.
- You will see what.

And his brigade drags into a prayed forest, and further along the rolled. A person gives his pay. Gives gold.

- Do not go to the police! - Adjust him. -You’ll go to the police-there will be a ax-tank!

The whole city moaned from Valka Khlyapin. And the one like a spider ate blood and fear. Hard. Golshew. He walked through the streets by the owner: shot his eyes in search of victims. I bought a megaphone for myself - like those who take to rallies. He traveled on a beat “Merce” at night and shouted, drunk, in his mouthpiece: “This is the Third World War! To everyone to hand over the cash and go down to the bomb shelter! ”

The brigade gogged, grabbed the tummy: "The joker Valya, the clown, by golly!" The factory workers, who were coming to the early climb, swore: "When you, Valya, die ..."

The audience flowed past Valka: bandits, whores, honest women, worker people

And as often happens in the game of Fortune - at first she will lure a person, stroke, euthanize his caution, and then clicks on the forehead that a person will roll into a kubarom. So with Valka Khlyapin happened: the short -lived was his star path.

Once a summer evening, Valya clung to a bench to a man.

“Hey,” he said. - Is there a smoke, or what?

The man gave him a cigarette.

- Do you know who I am? - asked Valeok. “I'm a king, I'm the main one here.” Everyone walks around me - and even you.

And take a man and answer:

- Well, you still need to see ...
- How to see? - was taken aback by Valka.
“I,” says the man, “I live in sixty years in the world like you, in your lifetime, obeyed the abyss.” They jump out with roosters, puff, beat themselves in the chest: “Here I am !!! Look at me !!! " And then in a year or two you look-and there is no longer. Who was drunk and who is in the cemetery.

- Who did you call a rooster? - did not understand Valka.
- This is me figuratively.
- Well, once figuratively, then get then.

And he moved Valeok to a man from his right hand. A man fell unconscious. And Valka began to smoke further. You never know - a person lies and lies, how many of them were in front of a roller. And forgot about him.

Two minutes passed, three. The man got into somewhat, rose, went slowly to the house. Valka looked at him indifferently, released the club of smoke into the sky, stretched out on a bench: it is good to live when summer, when you are nineteen and you are the king! And what happened next, Valka did not understand.

It seems that the sun was just there, and then it disappeared - and above the ear it crashed like a thunder. And in the stomach it became painful. Valka looked - and blood pours from his stomach. Valka raised his eyes - and there is a man with a rifle.

“You ...” Valka squeezed out of himself. - You…

And he reached for a man with his hand. I thought to hit him again - the crown, with the right, with which he was falling the guards in the “Ryabinushka” and about which the coach said: “This, Valya, is not your hand. This is a gun. " Yes, but not fate was already Valka Khlyapin in this life to beat someone. The second time a rifle flashed with fire - and the light in his eyes went out forever. There was a living Valka and impudent - but became inanimate.

Then the doctors arrived, the police arrived: the man did not hide. He sat next to the murdered. The rifle leaned against the tree. Smoked. Waited. He folded wrinkled hands on his knees.

- What are you for him? The policeman asked.
- It was for what.

The policeman looked at the murdered:

- This is Valya Khlyapin, a clown, a familiar fruit. He was eliminated, then ...

The man was put in the car and taken to the trial. They thought to crank the court quietly, but the natural madness began in the district. Having heard that Valka Khlyapin died, having heard what happened and who was guilty of his death, people reached for the pre -trial detention center. The workers, the victims of Valka, carried gearboxes to the man - food, money, “Malbore” by blocks, phones. Once even vodka through the guard was dragged into the cell: such was the power of gratitude in people.

“Take, dear! - The notes wrote to him. “Take it and remember: the city will not forget you!”

The dumbfounded man did not know what to think. On the one hand, his soul, having lost her murder, was burdened and cried. The man wanted to bear the punishment: at least to wash off a particle of heaviness from the soul. On the other hand - it turned out like a folk hero. And he sat in his cell, not knowing whether to rejoice at him or cry. He smoked a “Malboro” and drank “Absolute” - only the best bought hard workers.

Half of the city came to the court. Without earnings in the hall, people crowded in the corridor, a snake flowed out into the street. When the man was introduced, the hall staged a standing ovation.

“Why are you, what ...” he was embarrassed. The judge pounded with a hammer. Nobody heard him.

The process was completed at half an hour. Once again, the main events of that ill -fated day were retold. They asked the man: "Do you admit guilt?" “I admit,” he said, and stood up, clutching a hat in his hands. "The court is deleted to make a sentence!" The judge waved a mantle. The people whispered. Women cried.

The killer got the smaller of what he could - six years. When they took him away, people threw red carnations into the air. The man was again embarrassed, stepped carefully, tried not to suppress the flowers.

“Forgive me, fool,” he said to the police and the judge. “And you, good people,” turned to people. - Sorry! I did not sin from great mind ...

And he bowed - how good fellow the good fellow in fairy tales bowed.

Then the people completely went into the spacing. “We will arrange a good life to you, you are not afraid! - shouted after him. - We will send money! We’ll bring you a woman! " And someone at all from the generosity of feelings sang loudly and false “International” loudly.

Our soul loves to be like in epics and lives. And it does not wait for it from. It suddenly sprouts from the darkness of our affairs, from crooked bodies, from thin coats and slanting streets, from houses on chicken legs, from green swamps, from the courtroom in the case of murder or simply through bald pavement - they suddenly begin to overtake light and holiness.