Galya High and Mighty. ïåðåâîä ñöåíàðèÿ

äàííûé òåêñò ÿâëÿåòñÿ àâòîðñêèì ïåðåâîäîì ñöåíàðèÿ Ëåñÿ Ïîäåðâÿíñêîãî "Âàøà Ãàëÿ Áàëóâàíà".
âñå ïðàâà íà äàííóþ àíãëîÿçû÷íóþ âåðñèþ ïðèíàäëåæàò Àëåíå Ñîêîëèíñêîé.
àâòîðñêîå ïðàâî ïåðåâîä÷èêà õóäîæåñòâåííîãî òåêñòà ÿâëÿåòñÿ ñàìîñòîÿòåëüíûì ïî îòíîøåíèþ ê àâòîðñêîìó ïðàâó îðèãèíàëà.
àâòîðñêîå ïðàâî ïåðåâîä÷èêà íå ïðåïÿòñòâóåò ïóáëèêàöèè äðóãèõ ïåðåâîäíûõ âåðñèé îðèãèíàëà â ëþáîì êîëè÷åñòâå.

Scenario: Les’ Poderviansky © 2005 – 2007
Stage Director Scenario: Les’ Poderviansky, Lesya Kalynska © 2009
English Version: Alyona Sokolyns’ka © 2010


1. TYPICAL VILLAGE OF THE CENTRAL CHINA. STREET. MORNING.

Subtitles: China, Henan province, Chzhenlu village.
Skinny pigs were devouring contents of a baby carriage. A CHINESE OLD MAN slept on a bench. He was muttering in his sleep, smacking his lips and rocking the carriage (medium shot). The pig’s snouts were chewing with relish the corncobs lying in the carriage (close-up). Some ducks and chickens were fussing around picking up the remains of the pig’s leavings.  A FILTHY BABY was creeping in the dust nearby (vista shot, panorama).

A cloud of dust rose, the pigs scattered with a squeal, the fowl were screeching and clapping their wings – a CHINESE BOY was running down the road, traversing among the ducks, geese, chickens, dogs, pigs, carts and people on bicycles. He skillfully kicked from one side a huge hog which blocked his way, uttered a dashing scream, wiped his sniffles with his dirty sleeve and ran on.

The old man who woke up beat up the impudent swine, tossed a stick into the hog on shouting some scrambled Chinese swearing, dumped the corn out of the carriage and put a crying baby into it.

The pigs were squealing, the chickens were cackling, the baby was crying. The Chinese boy was rushing nip and tuck along a dusty street. From above his little figure seemed quite tiny (view from above, vista shot, crane).

2. CHINA. MOUNTAIN ROAD. MORNING.

A dusty auto car was speeding along a sinuous mountain road. A COLONEL and a DRIVER kept silence with concentration (vista shot, panorama).

3. CHINA. SMALL VILLAGE LIBRARY.MORNING.
 
A librarian LI FUN CHU was filling in cards, a big green fly flew in through the window, it was flying zigzag and at the end it sat on the Mao Tze Dong’s portrait. Li Fun Chu was watching its flight (close-up, eyes), then he sneaked up, caught the fly with his hand aptly and let it fly into the window.
 
The window’s curtains stirred with the draft. When a stranger entered the library, Li Fun Chu stood his back to him.

- Good afternoon, Colonel! Glad to see you in good health, – Li Fun Chu said, without even turning around.

- It’s good that you keep in shape, comrade, - responded the stranger with a smile. - How did you guess it was me who’s come in?

Li Fun Chu shrugged his shoulders and pointed at the waving curtain on the window.

- It’s the air draught of, - he said smiling and shaking the stranger’s hand. - It always means that someone has entered, and if this someone entered absolutely noiselessly that may be the only one person. Only you comrade Colonel. Do you want to get registered in our library?

- I would accept your offer with pleasure but not now, comrade, - replied the Colonel – but not right now.

4. TYPICAL VILLAGE OF THE CENTRAL CHINA. STREET. MORNING.

A Chinese boy was running down the village street. An OLD PEASANT blocked his way with a cart loaded with pumpkins. He tried to pull it out but to no effect, its wheels were stuck in mud. The boy jumped over the cart easily though he miscalculated a bit and caught on the rope. The pumpkins rolled over the road heavily; the peasant was shouting savory Chinese swearing after the boy running away.
 
5. CHINA. SMALL VILLAGE LIBRARY. MORNING.

The Colonel was swinging on the chair with imposing and imperious air. He sat at the table with the library cards, carelessly looking at the books on the table. Lifunchuk went on with his work, carrying the books from one place to another.
 - The party decided that you must return to your job, - said the Colonel. -We need people like you. We have plenty of work abroad.

- The party itself impeached my credibility, - Li Fun Chu replied.
On mentioning the party Li looked asquint at Mao’s portrait. Another fly sat on the book which the Colonel was examining right then. Lao Tzy, “Dao – Le Tzin” treatise.
- After the Hey Lung group failure I was instantly stripped of all my ranks and rewards, They sacked me, kicked me out - though it wasn’t my fault. And you comrade Colonel know this pretty well.

- You’d thank for that was the only end of it, comrade, - the Colonel replied and slapped the fly with the treatise.

He opened the book. The dead fly lied flat below a saying: “Dao, which can be expressed with words, is not a permanent Dao” (the phrase is dubbed by an off-screen voice).

- I was fulfilling my duty, - Li fun Chu said, - and it was not my fault that it all happened like this. Our group acted strictly in accordance with army regulations, we executed all the Center directions to the tee. Could we have foreseen that the ‘mole’ had dug his hole in the very Center? We were ultimately held to blame and those party farts from up there – he pointed upwards with his finger, - got away clear with impunity.
- Shut up, - the Colonel said even a little hastily – We all were doing our duty and you, comrade Li Fun Chu, should be the last to criticize the party.
Both men looked out the window at which a little nimble boy, whose pranks we had seen already, was drumming with his small fists on pulling faces.(close-up through a rather dirty glass: from out of focus to focus).
 
- Daddy, grandpa is calling you! – he was shouting.

- Your son? – the Colonel asked with paternal fondness (close-up).

- My son, - Li Fun Chu said. – excuse me comrade Colonel, I have to go.

- Go comrade, - the Colonel said. – And think about what I said.

The Colonel stood up, they were standing face to face in silence for a while.

- How much time do I have to think? – asked Li Fun Chu.

- The party does not want to put too much pressure on you, - said the Colonel. – Think well about everything and our decision must be definite. Your refusal could be misinterpreted. – The Colonel looked closely at the boy behind the window. Li fun Chu caught his glance.

- His mother died, - he said. The boy was raised by his grandfather.

- Give my profound respect to your father – said the Colonel. - Your father is the real pride of China. It would still be better for the boy if his own father could had a role in his upbringing too.

He said the last words with particular significance.

6.TYPICAL VILLAGE OF THE CENTRAL CHINA. STREET. MORNING.

Li Fun Chu and his son were already walking down a dusty road, and at that moment Li Fun Chu turned around. The Colonel stood at the library doorstep and followed them with his eyes. The driver was smoking, leaning against a dusty door of a plain dirty automobile. The father and the son were moving away, two tiny figures (view from above, vista shot, panorama, crane).


7.CHINESE VILLAGE. KUNG FU SCHOOL’S YARD. NOON


In the courtyard of Master Chen’s family school of kung fu the students were working out, perfecting some intricate taolu. The school flag was waving on the flagpole. Chicken, geese and pigs were peacefully grazing next to each other. Li Fun Chu passed by them and came into a training hall. (vista shot, panorama, crane).

8. GYM OF KUNG FU SCHOOL. NOON.

Li Fun Chu’s father, great Master Chen, a noble grey-haired old man, was sitting on the mat in the center of the hall and eating rice. Two of his younger sons were sitting opposite him. Li Fun Chu sat near them decently. He could see fairly well through the large window the students training in the courtyard, the farm animals and the flag waving in the wind. The sons were waiting patiently for the father to finish eating his rice and did not ask redundant questions, though the youngest among the brothers – a live and restless boy – had time to do a thousand things during the break: to look up at the ceiling, to pick his nose, to cross his eyes and to pout his lips, to touch his nose with the tip of his tongue.
A MIDDLE BROTHER looked at his mobile telephone stealthily. There a big creature was devouring a little one. Li cast a disapproving glance at his brothers. Having accompanied a stupid sound “Piats” with a fruity lip-smacking, the middle son looked asquint at his father and hid his mobile phone.
The elder brothers were watching his grimace indulgently. The second brother asked the eldest with a gesture: ‘Do you know what the old man has up his sleeves?’ Li Fun Chu only shrugged his shoulders. Meanwhile the old man finished his rice and looked over at his sons. He looked through the window and fixed his gaze on the flag. The flag was waving and flicking joyfully in the autumn wind.

- Which one of you knows what is moving – the flag or the wind? – the old man asked meticulously.

- Our father has gone absolutely crazy, – the youngest son said to the elder one and answered loudly: - It is surely the flag that is moving, father!

- Now you, - the old man ordered the second one.

- The wind is moving, - the second said. – And the wind moves the flag. I don’t understand…

- You stupid oafishly assholes! Will any of you give me the answer at last?.. - the old man shouted sternly. He was obviously out of humour. 

- It is the perception that it is moving, father. The wind, the flag and the perception are moving. It is all the same everywhere, - Li Fun Chu said and he smiled at his father.

The old man got up and tossed up his stick with his crook – so as it obediently got into his hand. His gaze was now threatening and all his figure breathed power. The stick was spinning in front of his breast like a crazy ventilator. The brothers cowered fearfully under his sight.

- When I was working out around the clock and I was living an honest life I got you, - and he pointed at Li Fun Chu, - and when I was drinking a lot of Gaolyan vodka and got bribes – I got both of you. Get out of my sight at once! – he growled threateningly and rose his stick.

And the youngest brothers disappeared in fear. Li Fun Chu looked through the window and saw them running down the courtyard, dodging among the geese and ducks. The flag was flapping in the wind victoriously.


9.ÝÊÑÒ. CHINISE VILLAGE. STREET. AFTERNOON.

Li Fun Chu and old Chen were walking down a village street, carrying their bicycles by the handlebars. The father said:

- You will have to go.

- It might lead to troubles for you, father, - Li Fun Chu said, - and the family too. My bosses did not let me go free. They want me to work for them again. If I do not agree we all will suffer. You know them.
The old man nodded. They came up to a POULTRY SALESWOMAN. Chen bought a duck at the old woman.

- It is a matter of family honor. – he said.
A BEAUTIFUL GIRL wearing flamboyant whorish duds was mincing in mud. Chen was lost in contemplation of her, he dropped his bicycle into a puddle, the duck slipped out of his hands and ran after the beauty. Li Fun Chu pursued the duck, caught it and drew his bicycle from mud. The girl disappeared behind the shop door. Chen went on looking after her:


- Once when you were little and stupid and lived with your mother in the East of the country, I adopted a boy, a European. I met him in the street of Chgenchjou. He was an orphan, clothed in rags and he was begging in the street. Just imagine – an orphan European in China. Buddha teaches us to be good to everyone.

They passed by a little shop with the whole kit and caboodle. Li was carried away by the sight of a fly swatter and he already was going to buy it from a quick SELLER, but his father stopped him. 

- Don’t spoil your karma, son, - he said with reproach. - I took the boy into my family and made him my son. Unfortunately, - said old Chen.

- Why father? – Li Fun Chu asked.

- He was the best of all, - old Chen said. – and I taught him everything I knew myself.

- You wanna say father…- Li Fun Chu started.

- Yes, - Chen said harshly. – I taught him all our school, including the venomous hand blow, the delayed death blow and water and wind blow.

- Father, those are secret techniques. How could you confide them to a foreigner?

- Buddha teaches us that all the people are brothers, - said Chen, he passed his duck to his son, turned away and passed urine into the bush. Li was listening on stroking the duck. An old woman passing by watched the old Chen and spat with disgust. And Chen went on without interrupting his occupation:

- I was stupid, overconfident and I thought that I had come to know people. When he got all he needed he disappeared, as suddenly as he appeared. I did not hear about him for a long time. Though recently some rumors have come to me… I’d better not know about it. He made a fortune from drugs and slavery trade and he is killing everyone who blocks his way. He does it in different ways. But he is particularly fond of using the secret techniques of our school to send people to their maker.

Chen zipped the fly of his trousers and took a duck from his son.

- I will find him and kill him, - Li Fun Chu said with simplicity.

- My son, this will be a hard for you, - Chen said. You will have to live in a strange country, to study their language and customs to merge with them and to love them. As this is the only way to see the truth which tourists never understand.

- I was taught many things in the Army Secret service. – Li Fun Chu said. - and your lessons were not in vein either. Tell me where I should go.

The duck said yes to him in its language.

- This place is called Ukraine, - the old man responded.

Subtitle:
GALYA HIGH AND MIGHTY

CREDIT SEQUENCE:

When the credit sequence is finished, fade to black.

10. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. MORNING.

Subtitle: Ukraine. Poltava district. Kramarenky Farmstead. A year later.


A fat green grasshopper swinging on a branch chewed a dainty leaf thoughtfully when a plant suddenly coming alive, lunging in a flash-like attack and grabbed a careless herbivore. A mantis was eating up its prey alive, turning it in its horrible cogged paws. Wind shook the bush with the murderer sitting in it and clanked a wide-open window of an old rural school.
Inside behind the window the rhythmic sounds of kicks and abrupt orders in oriental language were heard. The guys dressed in white Japanese sports jackets and trousers were training in a bedraggled gymnasium, hands and legs were shown in the air, dashing spurts were shaking the floor, dust rose in sunrays and was flowing into the gymnasium through open windows. Not all of the students were guys – one of them even appeared to be a girl. Her name was GALYA.
 

She barely dodged a huge jock who rushed by her like a crazy straw-cutter and catching his leg in a fall by “scissors” grip, she deftly threw her adversary onto the ground after having slipped out like a snake and beating him completely in a daring jump. The guys applauded her, while the girl helped her rival to get up, picked up an amulet from the floor that had fallen off a necklace broken in a fight. It was a little ivory monkey who stopped up its ears.
From the amulet which Galya hung on her neck a panorama opens to her face. (close-up, slow motion). Light up thoroughly, perhaps shoot her in back lighting. Drawing light, a thin profile and a long neck – we see Galya closely for the first time.

The mantis swinging on a branch cast predatory glances at the girl through the window. He had every reason to stare at her because she was more than just appealing. 

Acute orders in oriental language put all the students to the floor and the Master materialized out of a sunny trail of dust. He was a man with eastern features wearing a washed out black jacket. He called on our heroine with a gesture. (an abrupt rhythm changing).
- Come up Galya. Hit me with your hand, - he asked her with a slight oriental accent.
Though she was a skillful fighter, her flash-like immediate spontaneous strike met nothing, and the Master was already standing behind her back.
- Who would say what direct stroke is? – he asked those sitting.
The morons looked puzzled, they moved their ears, scratched their heads (montage: vivid faces of village guys, close-ups and middle shots). One of them- RYABOSHAPKA - actually slapped a GREY FLY PARASKA on a clean-shaven head of his fellow mate.

- It is the transfer from one state to another. Remember this. Everyone’s free. Ryaboshapka – do fifty push-ups and tidy up the room.

The fly-killer scratched his head with resigned air.
Galya picked up the fly, blew on it and let it fly out of an open window.

11. KRAMARENKY VILLAGE. UKRAINIAN LANDSCAPE: HUTS, GARDENS, A RIVER, FIELDS, HILLS. MORNING.


Paraska the fly flew out of the window and soared up upwards.


From the height of a fly in the air the world beneath was beautiful. This god-blessed country was Ukraine. And it had everything it should have: white huts, poplars, cherry orchards, blue rivers, meandering like snakes out of green hills, gees, caws, pigs… And people too. (helicopter  shooting).
Voice off screen:

«What a dunce I am, - the grey fly Paraska was thinking to herself, - to get it in the neck for nothing. And why? Only for having sniffed the man’s sweat. Why did I enjoy it at all? All the men are beasts, my mother was right. All in all there is nothing better than shit. Though there can be different variants for sure. I like public toilets on the bus stops most of all. But the rednecks there might beat me painfully with their newspapers. Though it is worth all that. Risk is a high minded business. Who does not risk, does not eat shit. And my friend Lucilia says – he who does not risk, does not sit on fly-paper. She is a real crack-pot herself. She likes the dead bodies, the bitch! She says it is no fun to eat shit nowadays. They have a company of their own enjoying dead bodies. Well I am shocked indeed! Sure they are city things and so on, though all the same. Oh yeahhh!”

12.KRAMARENKY VILLAGE. MATILDA COURTYARD. MORNING.

Paraska dived onto a dunghill in the pigsty in Matilda’s house. This house is a huge building with obscene turrets, balconies and other junk like Chimaeras and Mermaids. In addition to this there are various utility extensions. Altogether a mixture of dung, expensive perfumes and cheep mysticism.   

ANGELA and VERONICA were fighting near the pigsty. There were two girls, the sisters, with uncouth appearances – the elder sister was pulling the younger one by her hair, the younger was yelling and swearing at her sister with dirty words “You stinking pot”, “Fuck you!”
MATILDA OPANASIVNA sat on the spacious porch, she is a beautiful woman not old yet.  She was admiring the teenagers’ fight at the same time managing to polish her nails with red enamel and to show the tip of her tongue archly in the looking-glass from time to time. A SNAKE is hanging on her neck like a necklace, it is a CORAL SNAKE named SHARON.
Fat pigs in a pen listened to the girls’ screams and shrieks with interest. In the mean-time the girls flew off the handle completely: one of them snatched out from another a frivolous mobile phone shimmering like a rainbow and threw it into the pigs’ pen – it immediately disappeared into jaws of a pig. There and then the elder sister showed “fuck” by two hands to the younger one and teasing her started to rush about crying victoriously: “Look here, look here you goggled-eyed!” was running around her mother, trying to evade her younger sister’s spit.
Their mother was trying to bring them both to reason tenderly.

- Angela, Veronica – she cooed, - stop it, or I will close both of you in a box-room. There Galka comes - tear all her hair out if you please.

- And why mother did you buy her such a glamour mobile and me - such a shit-mobile?! – asked Angela.
- Shut up both of you! Wanna be as stupid as Galka – you will wade in shit in tarpaulin boots like her all your life, - Matilda shouted at her daughters.

Galya who had just finished trained in a gymnasium, entered through the wicket. Then she was dressed in ordinary country threadbare raggery and she took a colorless bike holding its handle bar.
- What nonsense you talk, mother! I am going to Kyiv to master styling in the Institute of Culture – and Angela is going to be a makeup artist or a creator! – said Veronika.

Galya looked at the sisters, smiled gently, covered her head with a kerchief, put on her apron, chopped pumpkins for pigs, scratched them behind their ears. She fed gees, chickens and rabbits (montage, close-ups and middle shots, angle shooting: perspective of animals). Veronica went on:

- And after graduation we will work in Kyiv first and then we’ll get married – I will marry a businessman and Angelika a producer and we’ll sing fine songs and record an album.

HOSE IGNACIO the hog which ate the mobile was listening to the pop melodies from his stomach. The snake was sliding over Matilda’s naked leg slipping to the ankle of its mistress and winding it around like a bracelet (close-up). Veronica did not stop:
- Or we’ll organize a girls’ band, call it nicely like “Bitches” and we’ll do show business and go to Helsinki to take part in a festival.
- A-ha! They are on tenterhooks for you there in Helsinki, - Matilda looked at her stepdaughter (close-up of her face). She jumped up, affected strictness:

- You are fooling around all day long! The cattle are not fed, no-one mowed grass for the rabbits – and she is dawdling god knows where!

- Don’t you worry mother I will do everything, - Galya kneeled down before Matilda and took off the snake from her leg:
- Come to me my pussy-cat… - said Galya, she stroked Sharon and poked her mug into a saucer with milk.

Matilda:
- Feed the cattle, sweep the court-yard, sort out the buckwheat, wash and brush the cat...
She told her about the cat just as it caught her eye – a big and impudent black beast came up to the porch. An “all-seeing eye” in a golden triangle hung loosely on a scarlet ribbon curling around the fat neck.
Voice off screen: “Only try to give me a bath, - cat Marquis the cat thought, - I will piss in your kersey boots for sure”.
Sharon the snake crawled by Galya’s kersey boots.

- And then do the girls’ hair and put make-up on their faces, - said Matilda.

Angela and Veronica:
- But what for? We are beautiful without it!
Matilda pulled a short-cut piece of paper out of her pocket and waved it over her head:
- Here, read this!
Angela and Veronica jumped on their mother like wild cats and tore the slip of paper, naturally a part of the scrap was caught by the cat and another was almost taken by a big goose, but Galya saved the scrapes, attached them, read the text and what it said: “TV Cannel ‘You and me’ is looking for new faces! A contest is being held to fill a vacancy for a female commentator of youth programs. Nice sociable girls of 17 and older are encouraged to apply”.
The girls stiffened in predatory avid attitudes. The cat licked his neb. Matilda voluptuously showed her tongue-tip, admiring herself in a mirror. A BMW passing down the street reflected in the mirror. Hose Ignacio was listening to the melodies coming out of his stomach and attentively following a silvery BMW slipping in  the Ukrainian humus. Music was heard from the car too.

The hog looked at the car from below (angle shooting). 

Voice off screen: “The cars are similar to hogs on the whole, - Hose Ignacio the hog thought to himself, - they have music playing inside them like we have. We both wade through mud. Only we don’t have such beefcakes inside us as they have. And again when these beefcakes get out of their cars they are similar to us too. Thus the noise coming from your insides is similar to you and that from outside is also similar to you. Well, reasoning like this a little more may lead me to the nut-house…”

While Hose Ignacio was thinking, the snake slipped along a pigsty, rabbits’ cages, flower beds and at last Sharon appeared on the road nearly getting under the BMW wheels. Li Fun Chu’s hand caught it at the crucial moment.

- Go home, you “pussy-cat”… - whispered he, slapped slightly the snake’s head, blew at it and let it out to the garden.

Li Fun Chu looked at Matilda’s house. A formed cloud changed the lighting; the house seemed spooky for an instant. An instant later the cloud went away, the house again looked as usual.

13.KRAMARENKY VILLAGE. STREET. CAR. AFTERNOON.

A fat finger was beating here and there over the car’s windshield in vain attempts to hit an elegant GREEN FLY LUCILIA (the fly’s perspective, angle shooting). Two men with fat necks and repulsive mugs were fooling around in the BMW. The car was crawling slowly along a narrow village street, mallows, asters, high grass were getting into the car window (subjective camera).
 
The one who was driving (his name was VOVA) held the wheel with one hand and was pursuing the green fly with another, the fly was running away lazily along the windshield. Another gangster ADIK was counting pickets of a fence with a barrel of his pistol having pulled his hand out of an open window (angle shot ).
Voice off screen: “And what the hell do they want from me? – thought Lucilia the fly. –Why would I poke my dirty finger into somebody? I am interested in you guys only because there are dead bodies everywhere you go. And you personally are fucking useless nobody to me. I never liked men with such a smell. This way such a redneck comes to a beauty-salon to have a massage, a  face-cream, then he gets perfumed like a gay guy, and then he has  some vodka with lard and garlic, and he gluts  himself some beer- and he belches like a dragon, and you are to sit and smell!.. It is our Paraska who is fond of this. How many times have I told  her – stop this redneck stuff of sitting on sweaty males – nah! Nevertheless it is more fun to sit on a good dead body once than to creep over shit all lifelong…”
The fly dodged the pushy finger. A MONGREL ran after the car barking. Adik spat out his chewing gum onto a dog and said:

- Vova, stop ruining your karma!
The dog ran away with a squeal.

- What? – Vova asked.

- You’ve gonna crash it, - Adik said, - and it appears to have been not a fly at all, but a former let’s say English tsarina or perhaps a beauty queen. Look how nice it is – green!

- What bullshit, an ordinary fly! – Vova said cynically.

- You don’t say so, - Adik said, - once I had a friend, he read different books, he had fucking loads of them at home I saw it myself – so he said that a person after his death really goes through the stages of rebirth and he easily may become a fly or a cockroach or a cat for instance…

- That is fucking amazing, - Vova said. – And can he become a snow leopard?

- And a snow leopard too, - Adik said, - but it depends on how much shit you did in your life. If you spoil your karma while living nothing would fucking help you.

- I used to have a friend once– a weight-lifter, - Vova said, - he got me really. He also used to say that I must have a goal in my life. I got fucking sick of him.
- Adik:
- Why so?
Vova:
- The coolest high for jocks like for drug-addicts is to make a friend of theirs a bodybuilding addict too. First he only showed me some photos, seduced me with Schwarzenegger and then he nagged with offers that I must pump iron too. I promised to do it – just to get rid of him. We once ran into one another by chance and he says: “Well did you start training?” “Sure!” – I say. He said: “Hm-m-m… I wouldn’t say it by your looks…”
Adik:
- I once used to know a hunk too. One day his girl-friend left him and he calls me and says: “Let’s have a drink!” He never drank before.

Adik was telling about the hunk gesticulating with his pistol dangerously.
- I am coming and see him dead-drunk, face down in his salad and crying. “It is not a shame that she left me, - he says. – I would understand if she’d left me for another bodybuilder, larger and stronger than I. But the bitch left me for a student – skinny and scraggy as a worm and a drug-addict too.”
Vova:
- Have you ever tried bodybuilding yourself?
Adik:
- I tried once – and then got sick of it.
Vova:
- They have some points of theirs – for example to build barhialis. And you can’t even see that barhialis.  It is hidden deep in meat. 
Adik:
- Cute.
Vova:
- Or curls. Body-builders are crazy about curls. Such a fellow may come to the beach, take off his clothes, put on funny narrow swimming trunks, pull out his arm and his leg – and so he stands admiring his curls. He can stand like that for an hour or two. And he doesn’t even need a tart.
Adik:
- They are fucking obscure.
He said that and pulled a half-chewed mallow flower out of a ROADSIDE GOAT’S mouth. The goat followed the car with her thoughtful blue eyes.

14. KRAMARENKY VILLAGE. PASTURE. AFTERNOON.

It’s horned friends were tended by Halya’s oriental combat Master Li Fun Chu – though everyone in the village called him Lifunchuk like in Ukrainian. Master was shepherding goats and training at the same time. The goats were watching their Master’s intricate tricks with live interest.

A NIMBLE LITTLE GOAT rushed to Lifunchuk (angle shot – rear view, stadycam). On insidiously getting to his master from behind, the goat butted the master in the buttocks, after what it ran away to the top of the hill where it boldly bleated, shook its horns, and butted the ground.
The Master pursued him like a cheetah, the little goat evaded his hands and this way they ran to an old garden.


15. KRAMARENKY VILLAGE. TETIANA’S HUT. AFTERNOON.
 
The dust rose over the road. The pussy-willows were bending. A tidy widower hut was whitening behind the garden, shouts and fuss were heard from inside. A silvery BMW car was parked near the hut.

AN OLD MAN thoughtfully was rolling a cigarette, sitting on a bench at the fence.  VILLAGE BOYS were ripping off the small metal parts from the car with inspiration.

The old man smoked. A COUNTRY MORON was picking his nose lazily sitting in the dust in the middle of the street. Some lollipops showed up of his shirt pocket. Neither the boys, nor the old man paid any attention to the woman’s screaming, swearing and thunder that could be heard coming from the hut.

 
The Master silently circled the house– he was creeping like a cat having smelt a rat. The wind blew, shutters rattled. The moron was licking a lollipop. TWO WOMEN joined the company with curiosity.
- What’s the fuss? Why is Tetyana creaming? – said one of them rapidly with a lisp, her golden teeth flashed in her mouth.
- It’s a trifling matter… - the old man waved his hand. – They always come from the city to buy “home-brew” from Tan’ka.

The wind was shaking thick trees and throwing up the dust. An open window clapped its shutter. The teacher went to the window, scratched behind his ear and suddenly jumped into the window like a plunger. A woman’s scream was heard and suddenly everything became quiet. The wind threw up the dust. An old veteran exhaled smoke out of his nose. The women’s noses became longer from excitement and their ear-rings were shaking and tapping. Suddenly the door opened and Adik fell out of the hut. He stood a bit and then crashed down. A table’s leg with big nails stuck in his back.

Vova fell out of a closed window, having rammed the glass with his head. They both got by crawling to the BMW stuck around with candy wrappers and written all over with filthy words. The children scattered in all directions.

Adik and Vova crawled moaning into the car. The BMW was going on throwing about the mud.  A table’s leg with nails flew out of the car’s window. One of the women picked it up at a run and brought it to the hut. The BMW disappeared in the dust. 

 In the hut the Master was untying bewildered TETYANA whose hands were fastened to the ceiling beam. Tetyana was breathing heavily and stared her rescuer like crazy.
A woman rushed into the room with a table’s leg and put it carefully onto the bench.
- Here, Tan’ka, a table’s leg fell down. I brought it back to you – maybe you need it…
The second woman was following the first. They both were bursting from curiosity.
- Shoo both of you! Get out of here! - cried Lifunchuk.

The last knot was hard to untie, Li got out his knife and cut the rope. Tetyana uttered a shriek and sagged on the floor in picturesque way.

Having taken the table’s leg Lifunchuk hammered it to the chair with his hand kick like with a hammer. A cuckoo came out of the pendulum clock and cuckooed several times. The initiator of all this adventures – the prankish little goat - was chewing a geranium on the window.

Li threatened him with his fist. A country moron noticed all that. He walked under the window, rustled in the raspberry-bushes, smiled.
- Cuckoo!!! – said he and winked at Lifunchuk.
 


16. KIEV. TV-CENTER BUILDING. GENERAL PRODUCER’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON.

The events taking place in the TV-center are presented in a different aspect than scenes in China and the Ukrainian village. Television is the third main aesthetic block of the film.

Design style: high-tech (main reference – «Matrix»).
Visual elements: glass, transparency, multistage space, mirrors, minimalism, stylization, a lot of metal, glamour, stylish postmodern things, cables, computers, monitors, cameras, lighting devices, other equipment. Cold tones are dominating: blue, violet, dark-green, booster light, ultra-violet, artificial light.

Cameraman Style: restraint, stylized design, contrasting light as in «Film Noir». Static camera with precise characters’ movements in the shot dominates. Moving camera:
Camera’s movements are thoroughly cleaned like in an advertisement. To use the crane, runway, camera tripod. Hand camera or steady cam are absolutely not wanted here.

The giant office of the General producer resembled more a dopey Tolkien’s fun’s delusion than a conventional office.

Among the swards, stuffed crocodiles and famous vampires portraits there were some unpretentious models of post-Soviet office esthetics: mock-diplomas, darts in place of a target on a competitor’s portrait, a huge bottle with a hand-made label “We are 10”, a calendar with Poplavsky’s mug (a grotesque showman of modern Ukrainian stage) and other thing. An enormous logo of the TV channel was placed on the wall right over the portrait of an ancient figure, under the ceiling there were some ropes…

Art Director EDUARD MAISTRENKO entered the door with the inscription “V.G. Selyodka, General producer of ‘You and I’ channel” holding some drafts under his arm. The General producer of the ‘You and I’ television channel VLADISLAV GENIYOVYCH SELYODKA sat in his office at the desk thoughtfully twiddling in his well-cared for hands a skull of a large rodent. The jaw was attached to the skull with springs and clicked ominously.               

- And here I am, Vladislav Geniyovych, just have a look at this, - said Eduard Maistrenko who placed the drafts on the desk.
- What’s that you have drawn there? – Selyodka asked him. – What are those ropes?
- Look, Vladislav Geniyovych, - Maistrenko said pointing upright by his hands. – First we fasten guiding ropes and then we hang small lovely lamps. They hang zigzag on these ropes. This is the latest cool fashion. The masters of style do similar tricks in Chelsea and Soho.
- Fashion-fashion – bullshit session… - Selyodka sighed. – What do you have for “Armageddon”?
- And you have seen everything already Vladislav Geniyovych, everything is ready, you may have a look, - Maistrenko came alive pointing at the drafts. – Here, see, all the studio is black, and all around the chairs are as red as Satan’s in hell. And from above – such a smart kind of meteorite or comet on such a cool chain. And it goes down and down… As Foucault's pendulum – one – there… two- here back… 
Maistrenko was jumping all over the office, demonstrating the studio design by his body. He got stuck on swords and fell on the floor together with them, and at that moment the ancient figure portrait fell on his head.

- I apologize, Vladislav Geniyovych, - Maistrenko said, moving backwards from the sinister portrait.
- Hang it back up, - Selyodka said coldly. – You will trash all my office, Edik.

He stood at the open window with his back to the desk. He could see through the window a Mercedes arrived at the entrance that was as long as a crocodile.
17. KIEV. TV-CENTER BUILDING. AFTERNOON.
The general Director of TV channel ‘You and I’ Albert Sosunovsky was surrounded by body-guards and got out of the Mercedes. Immediately he started jabbering by two mobile phones. The third, the biggest and most beautiful was hanging on his neck (instead of telephones different other gadgets may be used in scene – blue tooth, fallen out of his ear, i-pod, mini digital camera and anything else of that kind). An ear-ring dangled in his ear, many rings were on his fingers – all the details showed the guys’ glamour.
- License! – He cried into the mouthpiece of one mobile phone. – Don’t threaten me with legal proceedings!
And at the same time he was saying to another:
- Igoryok, honey, don’t get sulky with me, I am in Monte-Carlo now, at the prince’s reception – Now I can’t … - he said and disappeared behind the door.
18. KIEV. TV-CENTER BUILDING. GENERAL PRODUCER’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON.


- Albertik is bragging in front of his boys, - Selyodka said to the window whereas Maistrenko was aligning the fallen portrait. He was doing it with one hand and he was mechanically waving a sword on which he got stuck by another -  so that when TV-show “Armageddon” host Mykola Veresen’ pushed through the door he nearly lost his head.
- Edik, you faggot! – cried frightened Veresen’, who had evaded the sword by a share miracle. – Hey! Hey! Vladik, who’s that man in the portrait? Is that your relative?
- A distant one, - Selyodka said with forced indifference.

19. KIEV. TV-CENTER BUILDING. CORRIDOR.  AFTERNOON.

At that moment, Sosunovsky was proceeding through the corridor, a long white cashmere coat fluttering behind him like a crusader’s cloak. Four robust body-guards were running in front of him and behind him. 
- Our rating have stabilized! – he yelled into one of his mobiles. Share is 4,5! Format means rigid tie! No sitcom is sitcom!
And at the same time in another phone:
- Andrusha in which court will the case be considered?..

20. KIEV. TV-CENTER BUILDING. GENERAL PRODUCER’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON.

In Selyodka’s office Veresen’ went on frisking:
- Vladik, what are these ropes for? To air your pants?
- You do not put on airs, say better – what’s the matter with your contest? – Selyodka said not wishing to meddle in his office design discussion. – Did you write the scripts?
- Why should I do it? – Veresen’ got indignant. – Am I the one and only this television channel host? This is not my format! How can one person carry out “Armageddon” and such shit as this dump contest? Let Albina do it. 
- You will do it together with Albina, - Selyodka said. – There is nothing to do about it, no way.
Clamored the door opened and Sosunovsky appeared in the office.
- Come to me, Vlad – muttered this major-boy with his pink lips. – We are facing some problems. Get in touch with our Indian partners. It ‘s urgent.
Both Sosunovsky and Selyodka disappeared. And when the door behind them closed with a crash, the prince Dracula portrait (as it was him) fell to the floor with a bang.
- We are facing some proble-e-e-ems! – said Veresen’ mocking his chief. – Oh-oh-oh!
He winked at Dracula.
- Edik, just mind these wonderful ropes, I have an idea…


21. INDIA. BHARATPUR. STATE OF RAJASTHAN. JUNGLE. AFTERNOON.

Subtitles:
India. Bharatpur. State of Rajasthan.
India is the fourth essential aesthetic film block.
Main Design style: melodramatic sweetness, coloured exotics.
Cameraman Style: documentary stylization.
A hand camera, mobility, brusque zooming like in cinematography of 60s-70s. Saturated colours.

Varicolored tropic BUTTERFLIES were drinking water from a puddle, when from somewhere above a huge elephant’s leg dropped down on them (angle shot, view from below).
The elephant was giant. From his tail to his head grey ashy texture was taking turn with golden trinkets, red tissue – this travel along the elephant ended with red clever eyes and a trunk, rolled in a bagel. At that moment a foot of Maharaja of Bharatpur named Brajrajkalamatras stepped right in the center of this bagel. The elephant let the master down to the ground courteously next to a golden Rolls-Royce. The door of the car opened, an English driver in a peak-cap and white gloves stood near it.
- Shukiria, Akbar , (Thank you, Akbar!), - Maharaja said.
(Further talk is in English with off-screen translation)
- How did everything come about, sir? – the chauffeur  asker, dodging a huge trunk.
- All came about well, Charlie, - Maharaja said without enthusiasm. – If not taking into account old Bhagavat Singh. That one in the middle – he pointed at the tigers, – disemboweled him.
 
22. INDIA. BHARATPUR. STATE OF RAJASTHAN. DUSTY ROAD. AFTERNOON.

They were already rushing in their Rolls-Royce down the dusty road, when Charlie said:
- These Sikhs sir, they are real devils, they are afraid of nothing.   
They had to talk driving around another baboons’ herd.
- Especially when they got themselves drunk with whisky, - Maharaja said, puffing smoke from his cigar. - Do you know the difference between a Sikh and a lion?
- What is it, sir?
- A lion does not consider himself a Sikh! – they both laughed amicably together. It was clear that they are more like two friends than a servant and a master.
- In addition to that a lion does not drink whisky, sir, - Charlie said honking at a huge humpbacked cow.

- That stripy one who had bumped off the old man was sober as a Moslem, - Maharaja said thoughtfully. – Now both of them – the sober one and the drunk one are in samsara.
- What is samsara, sir?
- I don’t know it myself, Charlie, - said Maharaja and laughed cheerfully.
- They called you from Kyiv, sir, - said Charlie driving through a mob of dervishes. – Your TV-channel partners, sir. They are facing some serious troubles, sir. I guess you have to go, sir.
- Kyiv – where is it? – Maharaja asked.
- They say it is somewhere behind Mongolia, sir. A sacred site on the hills over a great river. They say there are many benches there, sir, and under every one of them a spring of divine prana spurts. People sit there on those benches, drink wine and prana spouts them directly to their butts, and they watch beautiful women who are so numerous there that to see them all you should have three heads like Shiva has. 
- And there is as much prana that they cannot get up from those benches because of it, - said Maharaja and they roared with laughter again shaking the Rolls-Royce.

They didn’t laugh long. An ugly mug of a dervish looked into the car window and uttered some kind of abracadabra, and Maharaja recoiled in fear.
The car side-tracked, driving around a woman holding two babies, one in each arm.
Maharaja shook off the cigar ash through the window. Having looked at the babies the old sybarite remembered something and he suddenly grew dismal and thoughtful.


23. INDIA. AIRPORT OF DELHI. AFTERNOON. SEPIA.

Subtitle:
Airport of Delhi. India. Twenty years ago.

Retrospective review:

SARASVATI ran across the waiting room, brutally pushing apart everybody on his way.  He had a gun in one hand, he shot back to his pursuers, and he had two babies in another hand. He knocked out the door through which the passengers with their luggage trolleys and suitcases were coming out. Sarasvati rushed against the people’s current into the storage facilities of the airport. He dropped down some POLICEMEN with several well-aimed shots and dashingly jumped onto a moving metal path on which the suitcases were transported. He jumped over the suitcases and dashed to the hole throwing out the luggage. Having got into the tube he started maneuvering among the suitcases rushing to meet him.


Retrospective show:
24. INDIA. AIRPORT OF DELHI. AFTERNOON. SEPIA.

Having broken out Sarasvati ran onto the airfield. The policemen rushed to him from all sides. Sarasvati jumped into a fire engine and ran up the staircase, but it was surrounded by the policemen at once. Their carbines and guns were aimed at Sarasvati’s breast.

Sarasvati  slowly put the children on the stairs and lifted his hands up. Suddenly he strongly slapped the crown of his head with one hand and he struck under his chin with another hand  -  and he bit off his tongue with a crazy scream...


25. INDIA. BHARATPUR. STATE OF RAJASTHAN. ROAD. AFTERNOON.

Maharaja was still looking through the window.

…The car was kicking up a cloud of dust. A woman with babies and an old dervish watched it. The babies were crying. A monkey at the road plugged its ears not to hear the babies’ screams. A similar monkey, but made of stone was placed on the roof of a majestic Maharaja’s palace, to which our character ran up in a golden Rolls-Royce decorated with dust.

26. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY VILLAGE. MATILDA’S HOUSE. AFTERNOON.

Sharon the snake coiled a vase made as an ancient man’s head (namely the ancient man was prince Dracula). Red poppies grew right out of the man’s head.

Matilda was swinging in a straw rocking-chair, drinking coffee, putting aside her finger, smoking a cigarette in a holder, golden dragons were crawling over her oriental robe.
- Everything’s paid for, - Matilda was talking into a mobile receiver. - From Romania. Customs are bought… Yes… Moldavians. Strizhikaru. Preserves. Everything’s under control. Across Pre-Dniester – that will be too long. No… it is hot here and flies… I miss you, Beast!

A mirror hung on the shed. Angela’s mug was reflected in it. Near the mirror photos of Cindy Crawford and Claudia Shiffer were glued. A fat fly Paraska crawled down their beautiful faces.
Two caricatures of these famous girls were now getting the final touches put on them: Angela and Veronica sat at the chairs pulling their faces. Galya was brushing, making up and curling her step-sisters.

- Galka are you nuts? You are pulling out my hair!! Mama, she’s gonna pull out all my hair!!
An enormous black raven that had been sitting on the shed as a wooden decoration suddenly came alive and shit right on Angela’s head, with insolent croaking for sure.
Angela ran over the court-yard. She was tearing the rags off the clothesline, wiping her hair, slipping on the turkey’s shit till she finally got plopped down into mud. 
- Vasya, you ought to be ashamed! – Galya was trying to bring the bird to reason.

She ran up to a crying Angela, helped her to get up, wiped her with care like a mother wipes her child.

- Mama, it’s clear Galka is a block-head, but I will tell you the truth – it is all your fault, - Veronica was reasoning. – You brought all kinds of mongrels up here: these crows, pigs, this fucking snake, which walks in the yard. The boys are afraid to come here! How long have I asked you to sell this house together with all this zoo – I am young, I want to live in the city, and Angelka - too, and you, mama, you do it all in your own way – you haven’t stolen everything yet, you want more and more, you maybe think you will live three hundred years as that crow…

Baring her teeth horribly Matilda hissed at her daughter, took a slipper with a spike heel off her foot and darted it into a beautiful Sindy’s portrait.  The heel pierced the beauty’s eye… and a coarse wooden door shattered to smithereens.

Matilda’s eyes were flashing, her red hair were soaring on the wind. The dust rose, the wind started the wave, the trees rocked, the flowers’ heads bent to the ground, the house grew dark…

Hose Ignacio was grunting in a scared way, its bristle stood on end. Vasya the raven rolled up his eyes and out of fear he crashed down from the shed to the green grass with a tap.

But Matilda was already talking to her daughter tenderly as if she had put on a mask. She was even spookier after these momentary transformations.
- Sweetheart, you will win the contest, get work on television, get married – then I’ll sell our little housie, buy apartments in Kyiv for you and myself a run-down shack in Monte-Carlo and fuck it all – the cattle, the business, this fucking life… I will make myself new teeth and will go to the casino with young boy-friends, will arrange some orgies. And you will come to see me with my grand-children. And maybe I will get married myself and will take Halka with me – to hair-dress me. Will you come with me, Galka? You’re gonna be my maid for food. And then we’ll get you married too – to a pimp of theirs.
- I love Ukraine, - said Galya.
She then took the fallen raven Vasya, blew at him as she had blown at the fly before and the raven flew away to the idyllic landscape with the setting sun, a river, small huts and poplars...

27. TRANSYLVANIA. OLD AUSTRIA-HUNGARIAN RAILWAY STATION. NIGHT.

Subtitle:
Transylvania. Northern Romania
A freight train stood at a substation in the mountains. The loading into open freight cars was in progress. The loading workmen were loading the boxes into the last wagon under the lamp flickering on the pole. Romanian talks, whistlers, lights, the moon, black silhouettes of mountains.

Giant dogs with pointed ears were watching the process attentively.
Whistle; the train started off slowly. 

28. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKI VILLAGE. LIFUNCHUK’S HOUSE. AFTERNOON.

Master Lifunchuk used his palms, elbows and heels to chop logs in his court-yard. Tetyana, whom he had saved from gangsters, watched the Master from behind a wicker fence with fear. Pottery decorating the fence was ordinary for such places, though only dragons and hieroglyphs on pots and bowls were not ordinary. The Master who stood with his back to Tetyana felt his guest with some sixth feeling.
- There to the left there is stile, - he said not even turning around, - do not get into wicket – it is rusty and creaks disgustingly.
Tetyana came in and sat on a bench, looking around gingerly. There was something to have a look at. Some pillars of different height were dug in, on the door of an ordinary Ukrainian hut a Buddha eye was drawn, also Budhas in lotus attitude were on shutters, under the shed there was a rake, a scythe and a Samurai sword.
Tetyana’s face close-up (she casts curious glances all around).

Tetyana:
- Here I brought you some milk and eggs…
Lifunchuk:
- Sit down and tell me why you’ve come – I am short of time.
Tetyana:
- I’ve come to you I am scared, the fear...
Lifunchuk:
- What am I to do about it? Dao doesn’t give a damn about your fear.
Tetyana:
- I thought you are not afraid of anything – you are such an attractive man…
Tetyana herself is quite all right too – her thighs and breasts are drawn as by the mould. Lifunchuk tries not to look at her as hard as he can.
Tetyana:
- What if you agreed to live for some time at my place, I would cook borsch for you every day, dumplings… Instead of that muck that you eat with those sticks. I would wash all your clothes.
Lifunchuk finished with the logs and easily as a cat in a vertical jump got onto the butt-end of a digger in pillar. He stayed standing there, having crossed one leg and pulling his arm over his head.
Tetyana:
- It is awful to see how you make yourself do that… Why are you taunting yourself like this… What if you fall down by accident – then you probably won’t have any children…
Lifunchuk:
- Tetyana, why did those gangsters came to get you?
He slowly straightened his leg before him, his arm also moved so as his fist was now at his chest. Everything was done beautifully and fluently.
Tetyana looked from below at Lifunchuk’s leg which he raised (view from below). Tetyana got scared for an unknown reason, her hands were shaking, milk from the jug fell to the ground and fat country cats were lapping it up joyfully.
Tetyana:
- Hm-m the boys… they came for moonshine.
Lifunchuk:
- Aha, you didn’t sell it to them and they tied you up for that and hung you on the beam…

Master’s changed the direction of his leg fluently and it stuck sideways. A blue dragonfly sat on his heel and laid its wings cozily. Cats began to fight because of food. One of them jumped on Tetyana and hang on her skirt. Milk spilled, eggs were broken. Country moron passed by smiling friendly.

29. UKRAINE. KYIV. UKRAINIAN YAKUZA OFFICE. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.

Two guards were convoying Vova and Adik along the corridor. 
Vova and Adik shifted from one foot to another in a hall under the supervision of hunks standing at a back door. A large human eye was set into the center of the door. The eye flashed with fire and two block-heads pushing one another squeezed into the apartment.

30. UKRAINE. KYIV. OYABUN’S HALL. AFTERNOON.
It was a strange ascetic apartment. White walls were divided on segments by pieces of ebony, overhead there a dark ceiling had wooden beams jutting out of it. All along the back wall there was a rostrum made of the same ebony, and strange rolls were on the walls. If it were not for a portrait of Makhno on the central wall and Ukrainian embroidered towels on the windows it would be the very image of Japan.

Behind a translucent dark screen fencing off a part of a rostrum a sitting man’s silhouette could be seen. It was OYABUN of the Ukrainian Yakuza. A robust young Japanese with a tight Samurai face stood in the corner. His name was HUYAMA.
 
Vova and Adik did not feel comfortable, they were stamping awkwardly digging in their pockets, when a deep voice from behind the screen said:
- Do you remember a second strophe of a “Stone strophes” rhyme by Antonych, Huyama?
- To the contrary courageous peace is in your heart
You will dart up to the sky proudly and firmly your acute stare
While in silence speechless and deep
Millions of stars will fall in streams of arrows from up there, – answered an oriental hunk, reciting Ukrainian rhymes with Japanese accent.
- What a true saying, Huyama, - the voice went on. - Think about these lines. That’s true beauty.
- Ho sensei, - said Huyama. He bent respectfully to the screen side and stiffened again in his corner like a sculpture.
- Why are you standing there guys, - the voice sounded blandly from behind the screen. – Come closer. Good. Why are you keeping mum? Don’t you like this envoy?

The guys felt like dumb bunnies. “Who fucking cares!” was written on their fat mugs.
- I don’t insist, - a deep hoarse voice was heard from behind the screen. – You may recite what you please.
Vova and Adik only sweated more because of such an offer.
- Don’t you know Antonych’s rhymes? Oh-oh, well that’s a shame! Are you Ukrainians?

Anyone watching those personages would have had no smallest doubts about their ethnic identity, although they themselves were not thinking about this before. The question itself seemed queer and absurd to them.

Strained fat necks of Adik and Vova (close-up).

- That is wrong, guys, - the voice said and after a pause asked: - Did you bring a witness?
- We found him, Oyabun-san, - Adik said. – But an asshole came out of nowhere and…
- I’m gonna tear him to pieces myself, - said Vova.
But Oyabun’s voice interrupted him:
- Where is she?
He got no intelligible answer. Though Adik, anticipating some troubles, had time to give a squeak:
- Sensei we’ll clear everything up together with Vova. I swear…
Oyabun’s tired voice cut the pathetic flutter:
- Stop clicking your teeth, Huyama, you hamper me from thinking. And these two hamper me as well. Get rid of them.
Huyama obeyed the order with obvious pleasure. Seeing that was delightful. Before killing the two degenerates he broke their arms and legs just like in a video-course on ju-jutsu and sent them to the world beyond only with two light dot-kicks – one to the bridge of their nose and another to their heart.
Adik and Vova lied in awkward poses under a vertical black roll. A white dragon with golden trizub in sharp-clawed paws was frolicking on it. The same but black one guarded the apartment entrance from the opposite side of the door.
- A dance of death, - said Oyabun. – Why should a man live on the earth if he cannot even recite a rhyme… Didn’t you break my porcelain, Huyama?
- Ie, sensei, - said Huyama. That means “no” in Japanese.
He clapped his hands and two lackeys immediately dragged the dead bodies out of the apartment.
- And lips will keep silent under blue sky
As a statue of stone – cold and dump
As there is only void and also the death
- and nothing else exists , - Oyabun said.

Oyabun’s silhouette is seen behind the screen (middle shot).

31. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. MAKE-UP ROOM. AFTERNOON.

In the make-up room of the television channel ‘You and I’ a visage-master CASSANDRA PETRIVNA was making up Mykola Veresen’ - the host of  the “Television star is you”  contest. Her hand touched his cheeks, nose, bald spot, the powder flaked off. Mykola pushed the visage-master’s hand aside.
- Well, perhaps it is enough, Cassandra, - Veresen’ said. - I am quite like a dead body already.

32. ÈÍÒ. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.

The television center corridor was decorated in “Matrix” high tech style – glass, gloss, light metals everywhere and cold shimmering of a creeping line above the door – “Silence. On Air”.

Beautiful long legs walked down the corridor dressed in openwork stockings and shoes with inconceivable spike heels. Buttocks fitted close with varnished violet springy leather moved elastically, the heels clattered – all this splendor moved between two rows of slender legs dressed in high boots. This was another hostess of the idiotic show ALBINA KOVBASUK, the television channel star.

The legs’ owners with similar white faces, red lipstick and in black bobbed wigs – the young CONTESTANTS – were stayed in black shining leather in anime style.
 
Albina Kovbasuk walked in an arrogant way, carrying her beautiful head in a hat with a strange moulding through the contestants’ crowd.

33. ÈÍÒ. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. MAKE-UP ROOM. AFTERNOON.

Albina Kovbasiuk rushed into the make-up room.
- Mykola how long should I wait for you, - the hysterical blonde started yelling right off the bat.
- Albinochka don’t worry for God’s sake – wise Cassandra tried to calm her down. Here look how much work is waiting for me yet – she pointed to the corridor where the contest-participants clustered together –our Angela and Veronica were among them. –Come in girls do not worry – Cassandra invited the girls in. – Ludochka was fired, so now I am the only one left to work, - she jabbered.

But Mykola and Albina already went to studio and the two pert girls Angela and Veronica were trying to occupy a vacant arm-chair.
- And why have you come here? Go to the studio, get ready, - Cassandra shouted at them. – Give this place to others, you are all right.
The confused girls were making their way out, beating up other contestants, who dashed to the arm-chair, when Cassandra stopped them at the door:
- Stop, - she said. – Who did your make-up?
- Galka, - Angela said.
- Who’s that? – Cassandra asked to specify.
- Our step-sister, - Veronica said. – There she is sitting in the corridor, a fucking goody-goody…

34. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.

Galya sat in the dark corner of the corridor being lighted only with a ray falling through a small window and read a book. The mysterious word “Heidegger” was seen on the red cover, her neat profile, her hair bundled smoothly on the back of her head, her long neck, jeans, sneakers and a white tank top. Lighting as in a Caravago paintings took out from corridor darkness her nose, cheek-bones, hands and knees. (vista shot, contrast light)

Galya’s small figure suddenly grew dark as if the sun behind the window hid in the clouds. It was Selyodka, who shaded the light from the window passing by. Galya raised her head but she could see only a silhouette. Selyodka passed further the corridor.

35. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. MAKE-UP ROOM. AFTERNOON.

- Cassandra, did Mykola pass by? – Selyodka asked looking through the door.
Cassandra did not have time to answer, as he ordered:
- Find him quickly and bring him to my office! I know, I know you do not have to – just do it for me, a-ha? – he said it because Cassandra waved her hand protesting but Selyodka disappeared already.

36. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. MAKE-UP ROOM. AFTERNOON.

- Hey, girl! Yes, you, you! - Cassandra cried to Galya. – Com zu mir! Are you the one who did the make up your sisters for the contest?
- Well, that’s me, - Galya shrugged her shoulders.
- There do you see an armchair? Everything you need is by the mirror, come to work quickly. Go on, honey cake, don’t you see what a brothel and madhouse we have here? Help, sweetheart!

She got out of the make-up room crying “Mykola! Mykola!” – and ran past the camera-men in suits like ninja vests, past some made-up whores, past Matilda sitting in an arm-chair.  Matilda was worn in a showy red dress, sprawling imposingly in the arm-chair, she smiled lustfully and painted her cherry-red lips.

37. TRANSYLVANIA. THE CARPATHIANS. BRIDGE. FOG. AFTERNOON.

  A freight train rushed in the green Carpathians, it passed a high bridge, rattled on the rails’ joints and honked victoriously. (view from above, helicopter shooting, the train moves directly to us, camera moves to meet the train).

38. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.

Matilda was painting her lips and looked at the train trough a little looking-glass.
Selyodka and Veresen’ went down the corridor. Maistrenko ran skipping behind them. Seliodka opened the door into his office.

39. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON.
Selyodka did not recognize his office and stood on the threshold dumbfounded: on “coolest and fashionable” ropes old drawers, brassieres, horrible women’s long underwear with blood stains and similar goods were hung out, just like in Naples streets in a neorealist movie. Prince Dracula looked unfriendly from his portrait: one of his eyes was covered by old women’s pants.

Selyodka looked at the panties with horror, Veresen’ watched his chief with an impudent smile. Selyodka looked at Mykola, but he put on a sorrowful mask already.

40. CHINA. DUSK. SEPIA. DREAM SEQUENCE. 
 
And suddenly it seemed to Selyodka…
…Not in the least the women’s underwear was on the ropes but some corpses eaten by time and diseases were hung on the crossbeam of ancient Chinese gate. Smoke of charred ruins, skinny dogs and flocks of ravens. Weeping, howling and ominous cawing…
Though the vision lasted not long, for a moment or so…

41. UKRAINE. KYIV. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON.

…Selyodka screamed awfully. First: “A-a-a-a-a!!!!”, then: “Help! Guards!!!”.
Veresen’, standing behind, swayed his hips and showed his thumb up to Edik as for a “cool” sign. However he imitated a sorrowful look at once as soon as Selyodka turned around suspiciously.

42. ÈÍÒ. MAHARAJA’S PLANE. AFTERNOON.

A personal Maharaja’s plane, which fuselage was decorated with a pornographic relief of Khajuraho temple, was flying through crimson clouds.

Maharaja sat at the wheel and Charlie in the next arm-chair was pouring whiskey to him. They spoke English (we hear the translation off-screen):

- You haven’t even asked why we are going to Kyiv, - Charlie said.
- As you told me about benches from which a man can’t stand up if his trousers are tight, - Maharaja said. –  Isn’t this enough?
Charlie opened the door leading to the cabin and gave a sign to a servant. Some GUARDS wearing turbans and carrying yataghans were having rest there, well-built INDIAN WHORES were playing music, one of them splashed in a golden bath in the middle of the cabin. A TIGER CUB kept on a lash was frolicking, motley PARROTS were flying. A BUDDHIST MONK was meditating apart. The SERVANT put a towel over his arm, took a tray with a bottle of whisky and went to the pilot’s cabin. He took away empty bottles, tinkling on the table and poured them some more.
- It’s all about Mitchunbay the asshole, sir, - Charlie went on.
- You wanna say the Capurs did not pay off completely then? – Maharaja asked.
Yes, they paid off fully, - Charlie said. –They gave back 13,2% in the form of shares in a Ukrainian media holding company.
- Well, the bills of Capurs are the bills of Capurs no matter where – either in Mongolia or in Punjab, - Maharaja said.
- But they knew that the shares are doubtful. This media-holding has big problems, - Charlie continued. – It is like a raider’s attack. Drastic change of ownership, sir.
- What are we losing? – Maharaja asked.
- Close to $1 trillion and a half, sir, - Charlie said.
- Pour me some more whiskey, Charlie, Maharaja said, analyzing the information. What did you say to Mitchunbay?
- He came in the morning, sir. He wanted to see you but I did not allow him.
55. INDIA. ÈÍÄÈß. MAHARAJA’S GARDEN. AFTERNOON.

Retrospective show:
Exaggerated sugariness and stylization. Indian music. Charlie wearing a silken oriental robe drank whiskey, several HOURIES were doing eastern dances next to him on the carpets. MITCHUNBAY came in and bowed to Charlie. 

- I am begging you my lord for my father’s honor! I don’t want to disgrace the Gang with my dirty corpse of a traitor!
He wanted to kiss a fringe of Charlie’s robe, but the latter pushed him away with disgust. – Have mercy, for my father’s sake! – Mitchunbay begged.
- You dare to pronounce your father’s name with your dirty lips, you bastard! – said Charlie, he liked playing this game very much and he was overacting a bit.

- We will win the trial! – Mitchunbay said. – We can solve everything. We are well represented there on the very top of the authorities…
Charlie paced the room with arrogant airs, Mitchunbay abased himself, he was crawling after his robe’s rim …

56. ÈÍÒ. MAHARAJA’S PLANE. AFTERNOON.


… Charlie was already back from his thoughts to Maharaja. They both were flying in a plane.
- And at the very bottom of life, - Maharaja said, making a steep turn.
- I will write down this phrase of yours in my note-book of aphorisms, sir, - Charlie said. – I am sure our club’s gentlemen will estimate it at its true worth.
- What else? – Maharaja asked evading skillfully an “earth-to-air” missile and rising up vertically.

(Computer graphics: the plane flies to meet the viewers from the left lower corner of the frame, changes its trajectory, falls onto its right wing and leaves at parabola up and left. The missile passes by, going right…)
 

The plane’s cabin was appreciably rocked. A bathing whore was splashed out of the bath together with the golden FISH (Chinese carps). The fish were beating on the floor, the parrots were flying, flapping their wings, crying. .

- Your personal presence in court is required by law in Ukraine. It is like an “earth-to-air” missile, sir. Judging by this thing the Ukraine is below us, - said Charlie.

Charlie followed the missile with his eyes. It veered off and self-destructed (graphics). The men laughed and clapped each other’s hands.
 
In the cabin the weak-willed bather went back to the bath. The guards were crawling around, picking up the fish. The monk counted his beads vacantly.

- We should make a sacrifice to Shiva, Charlie,- Maharaja said, having touched an undercover amulet under his clothes. – And do you know what it must be?
- A sacrifice is only a sacrifice when you sacrifice the dearest thing, sir, - Charlie said.
He took out a pipe from his mouth and looked at it attentively and sadly.
- No, I can’t do it myself, sir, - Charlie said.
And so Maharaja said:
- Hold it.
And, having taken the pipe he gave the control column to Charlie. Then he got up and went down the passage past his servants in multicolored clothes, his animals, Indian whores and parrots...
He opened the door, threw out the pipe there and nearly fell out after it. The monk, who was sitting motionless till that, caught his master from falling by grasping his splendid robe’s rim at the last moment... (studio shot, green rear). 

57. UKRAINE. KYIV. HIGHWAY. AFTERNOON.

Charlie’s pipe fell down directly on Lifunchuk’s head, who together with Tetyana was riding down a Ukrainian high-way in an old jalopy. The jalopy was cool: it was Mustang-cabriolet of the beginning of 70th. Lifunchuk caught the pipe mechanically as everything he was doing.
A FISH fell down on Tetyana’s head. Tetyana caught it, said “Pah”, admired Lifunchuk (close-up on his face).

- I didn’t know you smoke, - said Tetyana archly, but Lifunchuk did not keep up her tone. He managed to drive, to sing a tuneful Chinese song and to beat rhythm with the pipe.

- And this pipe matches you so… You look much more respectful with it, like comrade Stalin, - at these words she licked her lips up lustfully.
- Do you think anybody saw us leaving? – Lifunchuk asked her.
- Well how could it be possible, think well, - Tetyana said philosophically. – It’s a small village you know…
The fish flew to the water. They were passing over the Dniepro by the bridge.

Lifunchuk only turned his head and sped up. Behind the bridge on the horizon Kyiv was beckoning by golden domes, gulls were flying over the Dniepro, and boats and yachts were sailing down it. One of them was big and splendid.


58. UKRAINE. KYIV. DNIEPER. OYABUN’S YACHT. AFTERNOON.

On board a yacht there was Oyabun dressed in traditional hakama and haori, two swords – a short one and a long one were stuck in his belt. He thoughtfully looked at the green hills of Kyiv drifting by. Huyama stood behind him respectfully.
The fish thrown away by Tetyana flew slanting before them and fell splashing into the water. Our heroes were watching its epic flight attentively. (change of angle).

We see them at vista view from behind (Back lighting).

- Our Master’s coming, Sensei- Huyama said after a meditative pause.
- Welcome. Let Uyehara show him the way, - Oyabun said not turning around.
- Ho, sensei! – Huyama said.
They were drifting past a large and ugly block of flats, prevailing on the hill. 
- It is a shame to build such ugly buildings on the holy hills, - Oyabun said gloomily, looking at the river bank. – I wouldn’t commit to these architects even a pigsty construction. I want to know their names today.

Oyabun turned around (we see him for the first time). A BARE TATTOOED CAT was purring in his hands. Oyabun passed the cat to Huyama, the latter took the cat with respect.

- Ho, sensei! – Huyama said.
They were namely floating past a large and ugly block of flats, dominating on a hill.
- And now I am more interested in our charming lady. I hope you found her, - Oyabun said.
- We were there yesterday, - Huyama said hoarsely. – It is a very strange place.

Subtitles:
Yesterday. Poltava region, Kramarenki farmstead.

59.UKRAINE. POLTAVA REGION. PRAIRIE. DAYBREAK. SUNRISE.

Two jeeps with YAKUZA rushed along the wild prairies.

60.UKRAINE. POLTAVA REGION . MORNING.

Two jeeps with Yakuza were dodging among two rows of aggressive women, trading smoked fish. The WOMEN were sticking their fish to the gangster’s faces out voicing each other yelling: “Take this one, muzhchina!” “Well, you muzhchina, take this!”. The fish market was situated at two sides of the road in the middle of the steppe..

A BRIGHT FAT GIPSY WOMAN threw herself onto a jeep’s windshield like against a gun-port . Yakuza had to break down. Another woman, a BLACK one, stuck a horrible toothy mouth of a huge pike into the jeep’s window and jabbered in Poltava patter manner:

- Muzhchina, take it! The pike is so sweet! Hey, muzhchi-i-i-ina aho-o-oy!
 
The word “muzhchina” sounded even voluptuously somehow. SIMAMURA whose nose nearly got to a pike’s jaws wondered:

- I wonder, where do the black people come here from?

- You seem to be such a civilized  man and you don’t see it! – the black woman felt hurt. – We are mulattos…


61.UKRAINE. POLTAVA REGION . WOODS. MORNING.
Two jeeps with Yakuza were rolling across the woods.

62.UKRAINE. POLTAVA REGION . FIELDS. MORNING.

Two jeeps with Yakuza were riding across the fields.

63.UKRAINE. POLTAVA REGION . PONTOON BRIDGE. NOON.

… along the pontoon-bridge over Psyol-river. On the other bank of the river the road led to the forest. The cars stopped on the bridge, one of the gangsters came out to check the road, two others came out of the car, they were gazing at the running water and smoking carelessly. A large scaly creature with a tale was frolicking in the water behind their back. The gangsters threw out the cigarette stubs into the water, got in the car and went further to the deep wood. They came out of the wood, rode wild field with grass, barrows, black kites in the blue sky.
64.UKRAINE. POLTAVA REGION . KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. NOON.

The were riding to the farmstead… A coffin was put on the roadside. A MAN sat on the coffin cover and smoked. A GIRL wearing a pink dress sat near the man. The girl was licking a red lollipop-cock. The gangsters drove past them.

Huyama turned around to see the girl from the jeep window. The girl pulled a face of a “crazy bee” to him, uttering idiotic sounds : “Hy-y-y-y-y”.
 
They passed a road sign “Kramarenky”, drove to the farmstead, past pasturing horses, rusty tractors, stuck in wet humus, ramshackle fences, lopsided white wattle houses covered with straw roofs, a shabby store with a sign-board “Boutique”. Letter “T” hung slantwise fastened with one nail. 

65.UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. VILLAGE SHOP. NOON.

Yakuza jeeps passed by a village shop. Dusty bicycles were thrown near the shop and unshaven men with bronzed energetic faces sat there. They were BORYS PETROVYCH, SASHA THE GAS AND ZHORA THE SEX-MACHINE.

A village moron was fooling around nearby. He was sculpturing cakes from dust. He rolled a toy-machine, blew in the pipe, poured sand into the toy car-body, put the shabby toy-soldiers figures.
Sasha the Gas said to no one in particular:

- Maybe those gangsters from Kremenchug went to swim in Psyol with their whores.

And Boris Petrovych responded to this:
- Nah, those are hunters. Now they will drink vodka and will fire at the empty bottles in the morning. – And he also added. – Once I used to have a rabbit in my farm – a huge one and angry as a dog. So I used to go shooting with him. Hires and foxes were for prey him – just pah! He caught the wolf easily!
- And what did you feed him, uncle?- asked Zhora the Sex-machine.
- Ah he ate everything, - the owner of the super-rabbit said. – Clover, pumpkins, though he especially liked meat. As soon as we slaughter a hog, I give him some fresh meat and he sits so content, moves his ears, all his mug covered with blood…
66.UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. MATILDA’S HOUSE. NOON.

Meanwhile the jeeps with Yakudza passed by Matilda’s house. In its court-yard the following events took place.

Matilda’s court-yard.
Music from a fascist movie “The girl of my dream” was heard from the open door. Galya in rubber boots and a short faded summer dress managed to dance (copying Marika Rek unwittingly) and at the same time doing her household duties. Leaps and pas combined with feeding geese, pigs and rabbits. It was impressive.
The jeeps with Yakuza broke up, They came out of their cars and were admiring the show. Eight men stood at the paling. Their heads stuck out among the mallows and the pots hanging on the fence. Huyama looked at Galya as under spell.
 We can see the performance from different viewpoints, and we even could see the music source: in the hall of big Matilda’s house there was a television-set and “Seventeen instances of spring” (a famous Soviet spy serial movie) was on. And when Kopelyan announced that Shtirlits was bored with Marika Rek, the music stopped. The magic disappeared. The jeeps started off slowly and Galya ran after a cat. The cat was about to get under the car wheels, though a nimble Huyama’s hand caught him for the back of his neck. Huyama got out of the car and handed over the screaming cat to Galya gallantly. Galya took the cat, smiled, burst out laughing and dropped a curtsy:

- Tha-a-ank you-u, my lord! – she pronounced with declaiming howl, mimicking Franko theatre actors tones.

Huyama even got a little dumbfounded from her emanation. At the conclusion of the performance the nasty cat seized Galya’s dress and a small book fell down into the dirt from her side pocket. Huyama picked it up and dusted it carefully. It appeared to be “A book of five rings” by Miamoto Musashi. This was too much. Saburo Huyama wiped his forehead with his powerful hand and held out the book to Galya. He looked so silly at the same time that she burst out laughing.

- And I know what you want to ask me, - she said with tempting airs. You wanna say; “Young lady will you show me way to the library?”
She pronounced this and ran away, roaring with laughter, holding tight the cat and the book. Huyama stood dumbfounded, following her with his eyes. He would have stood like this for a long time but his gangster friends dragged him into the car.
They were driving further along the narrow village street grown with wild grass. Huyama turned around. Galya waved at him with the book and the cat.


67. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. OLD HUT AT THE GRAVEYARD. AFTERNOON.
And immediately the road ended. To the left there was a thick bush of wild grass, to the right – an old village graveyard. Huyama got out of the car to see if they could drive through.
A human skull was hung on the lopsided paling next to old pots. An old deserted hut showed through the branches of a neglected garden, a scarlet spot flickered in the window. Huyama was tearing through the bushwood like a wild hog, he chopped weeds with a Samurai sword.
His look was caught with a bright red spot. Huyama was forcing his way through the bush like a wild boar, helping himself with a samurai sword. He saw an old abandoned hut, through the hole in a straw roof. a column of sun light stood slantwise inside of it illuminating a red spot. Huyama went to the spot hypnotized. He opened the door quietly and saw a beautiful women’s back in a low-necked red dress.
68. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. OLD HUT AT GRAVEYARD. AFTERNOON.
 The dust danced in a slanting column of light. A woman sat at a dusty table and she was making something intently. Huyama moved a little and saw that she was making dumplings. But they were a little strange: the dough was ordinary but the filling was unusual.

In one dumpling a sleek woman’s hand with long red nails put a tuft of grey hair, in another – a toad, in the third – a dead mouse, in the fourth – a fen-cricket (close-ups, view from above).

The woman turned around slowly. It was Matilda. Her sinister beauty was bewitching. One her eye was green, another was black. Matilda smiled tenderly and seductively and at this moment her black eye flashed green fire, her eye’s pupil narrowed as at a cat’s eye. Huyama looked at her dumbfounded…

69.UKRAINE. KRAMARRENKY FARMSTAED. VILLAGE SHOP. AFTERNOON.
 
The jeeps disappeared in high grass of weeds, over the mud and puddles they rushed by the village shop again (close-ups and medium shots, vista view of the gangsters sitting in the car, subjective camera). They were riding by circles as if they were bewitched, coming back to the shop again and again (vista shot, view from above).
Borys Petrovych, Sasha the Gas and Zhora the Sex-mashine sat near the shop, without changing their location (medium shot). Some VILLAGE WOMEN rode by them by bycicles and scooters. They were chattering by their mobile phones and whipped on goats.

And Borys Petrovych said to nowhere :

- Nowadays every asshole drives a car. And once upon a time in old days there were no cars, and people never washed themselves and ate lard. If he wanted a tomato or a melon – he would just pick it and not wash it. And everyone had su-u-uch mugs! People were strong and lived for one hundred and fifty years. And nobody got ill!
- Hooey, grandpa, today they will launch B-52’s and our health goes to pot, - Zhora squatting near him noticed philosophically. 
- Their secret service works very well, - said Sasha the Gas, - when someone’s here gonna take a shit, they know about it already…

And the other men nodded with approval.

- Uncle Boria, buy me some candies, - a village moron asked. – I will give them to Irochka.
- I don’t earn money to buy candies for Irochka, - Borys Petrovych said, - go away from here.

- What the hell, we were here already, - Huyama said, - turn back, Kendzo!

70. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD.  TETYANA’S HUT. AFTERNOON.

KENDZO turned back, the cars stopped near Tetyana’s hut. The gangsters encircled it professionally, having surrounded the house with a black half-moon but they found only a CAT, a COUPLE OF GOATS and a rusty padlock on the door.(close-ups and medium shots follow: closed shutters, a padlock, a hungry cat rubs against Yakuza’s legs with mewing, the goat looks absent-mindedly, an embroidered half-chewed towel hangs out of its mouth.


71. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. LIBRARY. AFTERNOON.
They turned to the shop again and Huyama said immediately:
- Break down.

They stopped near the village club, there was an inscription on the door on the side: “Library”. Huyama opened the door quietly and went in. Lifunchuk sat at the bureau and was filling in readers cards decently. (vista shot: Lifunchuk is in the background scene to the right, Huyama is at foreground, his back is to the camera from the left, over the shoulder).

- Would you like to register in our library? – he asked, not lifting his head and continuing to write.

Huyama looked at the strong fingers holding a cheap pen, and looked around. (close-up: Lifunchuk’s hand, Huyama’s eyes).He saw a lot of amazing things there. In that number he saw some text-books on martial arts, Lao Tzy work; Bruce Lee and Mao Tze Dong portraits were hanging next to Shevchenko’s portrait. Chinese bells hung at the entrance. On the whole a usual set of a Ukrainian village library. 
There was a citation under every portrait (middle shots of the portraits with inscriptions are followed with the off screen text).
 
“The tiger never brushes his teeth but they are sharp all the same”, - Mao the Chairman.

“Make love you dark-browed peaches, but not to the Muscovites”, - Taras Shevchenko..

“Empty your bowl to fill it again, get empty to overcome”, - Bruce Li.

- And you are not from our village, - Lifunchuk said, raising his look at Huyama’s hands, laid on the bureau decently. Excuse me but I think I can’t help you anyhow.

Lifunchuk rose his head. They looked into each other’s eyes. They were examining one another for some time and they estimated a spiritual level of one another..

- Sorry for troubling you, - Huyama said politely. - I came in by mistake.

The door shut after Huyama, and Tatiana’s butt appeared from behind the bureau.

- You wanna tell me, that this one was looking for moonshine too? – Lifunchuk asked.


72. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY VILLAGE. MATILDA’S HOUSE. EVENING. SUNDOWN.

The jeeps passed Matilda’s house once again. Washed goods were getting dry in the yard, Matilda’s bright red dress fluttered on the clothesline. Huyama stared at it fixedly.
The weather grew worse. The trees bent, waves of sand were running over the ground, wind threw dust clouds.

Galya ran out to the yard and started tearing the half-dried cloths off the line. The wind was pulling Matilda’s red dress of her hands. Huyama turned around (Close-up: Galya’s face, wind, red dress).

Yakuza were riding away from the village; Galya followed them with her eyes.


73. DNIEPRO. OYABUN’S YACHT. AFTERNOON.

Huyama and Oyabun were already on the yacht deck. Green hills of Kyiv drifted by.

Japanese cooks were making sushi and rolls of lard – they put pieces of pickled cumbers, horseradish and Korean carrots inside. One cook aptly sliced the lard with thin petals, other wrapped the rolls, put them on the dishes and decorated with greenery.

- Your story is interesting, - Oyabun said. I have a feeling that we are gonna meet this guy yet.

Meanwhile Huyama shone a spot of reflected light from his katana sword blade into the eyes of half-dressed whores, frolicking at the stern. And suddenly he had a vision that Halya was standing there instead of the whores. She took a seducing pose and was smiling at him.

The cooks brought the dishes, covered by sparkling bells. A young Samurai was laying the table on the deck. He brought the first course and among the dishes there were also sushi, made of lard with horse-reddish, pickled cucumbers and vodka of course.
- Breakfast is ready, sensei, - said the young Samurai and bowed ceremoniously.

Oyabun came up to the table, poured some vodka, drank it with the Ukrainian sushi, raised one cover and served himself some dumplings. He raised another cover and saw the dead head of an unknown fellow, baring his teeth on a dish.
Having seen the sinister head the tattooed cat ran off  Huyama’s hands cowardly and vanished without a trace (close-up of the cat).
- What does it mean? – Oyabun asked coldly.
- Yesterday you ordered some meat-jelly for breakfast, sensei, - Huyama said.
- Well?! – Oyabun asked menacingly.
- This is criminal authority Meat-jelly here, sensei, - Huyama said politely.

At that moment they floated under Paton’s bridge by a horrible tunnel made with double columns of bearing pears, endless as a nightmare.
- I don’t want my orders to be interpreted anyhow in future, Huyama-san, - Oyabun said stiffly.
- This is my fault. There will be no mistakes anymore, sensei, - Huyama said.
He snapped his fingers and the horrible head was taken away.

A wild duck crashed down on the vacant place. An instant later a giant goose landed beside it. Gangsters were able to evade those massive bird bulks only due to their professional reaction.
- What’s the matter with them? – Oyabun asked, dodging skillfully a fat duck and excited by his own guess. – Are they birds- kamikaze birds? Aren’t they?
- It is the middle of the Dniepro, sensei, - Huyama shrugged his shoulders.


74. ÝÊÑÒ. UKRAINE. STEPPE.  AFTERNOON. DREAM SEQUENCE.

Taras Bulba and his sons rushed to Zaporozhska Sich like the wind tornado.

Sharp change in the rhythm. Dynamic shots mounting, angle shot: the horses rush to meet us in vista shot and medium shot, close-ups of horses’ hooves, the faces of Taras, Ostap and Andrey.

Ukrainian Kozaks mustached mugs were puffing smoke out their pipes. The steppe covered them. The Dniepro shone blue far away, the monotonous voice of a school teacher muttered classical Gogol’s “Amazing is the Dnieper at calm weather”. A fat gadfly sat on Taras’ predatory face, and Bulba immediately slapped it by his mighty palm.

75. ÈÍÒ. UKRAINE. ADIK’S SCHOOL. CLASS-ROOM OF RUSSIAN LITERATURE. FADED COLOURS. AFTERNOON.

(Age-old “Svema” film effect imitation)

Retrospective show.
 A sonorous slap woke a young sluggard Adik (Adik in his childhood), a teacher was towering above the boy, the strong fingers of a schoolmistress were tightly holding a child’s pink ear. 
- You are sleeping during the lesson again, Adik Sverbipupenko, - she said disapprovingly. – Get out of the class-room, come back to school tomorrow with your parents!
-
76. UKRAINE. ADIK’S SCHOOL. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.

And being seized for his ear Adik was immediately sent out to the corridor (close-up – the teacher’s fingers, a pink ear; vista shot - the corridor and a figure of a lonely boy sitting under the wall). Backing up a cold school wall Adik moved his sight onto the ceiling. The lamp hung under the ceiling. A fly sat on the lamp.


77. KYIV. MORGUE. EVENING.

Adik (adult already) woke up and sat up with a horrible scream. The lamp hung under the ceiling. A fly sat on the lamp. There was a zinc table under Adik. The school corridor appeared to be a morgue corridor in the Orangereynaya Street.
Next to him on the same table Vova was lying and beside him there was a GIRL and an ELEGANT GENTLEMAN. Vova woke up because of his friend’s scream, crunched by his joints and sat up.
(Crane, view from above: the camera slides from one “dead body” to another, stops still over the elegant gentleman).
- Don’t cry ‘cause I am blinking, - Vova said lazily.
- It’s bullshit, I dreamt of my school years, - Adik said, viewing the interior decoration.
- I have such dreams too, - Vova said, looking at a medical poster, depicting a human liver torn apart as a British flag.
78. UKRAINE. VOVA’S SCHOOL. BIOLOGY CLASS-ROOM. AFTERNOON.

And now a young pioneer Vova was standing at the black-board, pressing a piece of chalk in sweaty hands. On the poster with the liver a strict biology teacher in glasses and with a grey bun on her head was scolding Vova:
- You do not know the lesson, Vova, - she was saying, tapping a pointer sternly. – Turn your nose to the wall so I wouldn’t see you. Why do you come to school at all?
Vova obeyed and the mistress went on cruelly:
- Once it happened that two twin brothers had an accident. The head of one of them was broken off so that his brains came out and the liver of the second was torn. So the liver of the first brother was taken out and transplanted to another…
Vova was slipping down the black-board in deep fainting spell. The teacher’s voice was hammering nails in his delicate consciousness:
- It was done because the twins’ genes are similar. Now we are coming to new material. Our lesson topic is “Human genitals”. I am drawing schematically, - and the teacher made a drawing on the blackboard which could be more appropriate for a fence.

79. KYIV. MORGUE. EVENING.


- I would have killed her, - adult Adik said examining the girl on the next table.
- You don’t know anything about an embryo yet, - said Vova.

80. UKRAINE. VOVA’S SCHOOL. ANATOMY CLASS-ROOM. AFTERNOON.

- Galushka, go to the laboratory and bring an embryo to the class-room, - the biology teacher said, drilling the boy with her biting eyes menacingly.
- Yavdoha Sergyivna, don’t make me go. Have someone else go there. I will study everything, I will do a good job, - Vova was begging.
- Shame on you, - an old female-communist said. – What if tomorrow the war begins? Stop sniveling and get ready quickly for the embryo. It is in a jar on the second shelf. And don’t dare to come back without an embryo.
-
81. UKRAINE. VOVA’S SCHOOL. CORRIDOR WITH STAIRCASE. AFTERNOON.

The pioneer Vova ran down the corridor, he carried the embryo carefully stepping down the stair-way. Vova looked at the embryo, the embryo looked at Vova. The embryo’s small hands stack to the jar’s glass.
 
Vova’s head began to spin and he slipped down the staircase hand-rail quietly. The jar broke down, its fragments shattered in different ways, the formalin spilled out (slow motion). In Vova’s faint consciousness the staircase suddenly became endlessly long as at Odessa’s quay. The elastic embryo jumped dashingly down the stairs. (parody of the famous frame of Sergei Eisenstein’s film “The Battleship Potyomkin” )
The last thing Vova heard was the teacher’s voice saying:

The TEACHERS’ faces bent over Vova (close-up of the faces, angle shot – view from below, to use the «fish eye» lens). The last thing Vova heard was the teacher’s voice:

- Such a pity – a good embryo is gone! And all the formalin has spilled out… What a rotten generation – and what if tomorrow the war begins? What will you do? Is that you I am asking or who? Should your parents come to talk to me tomorrow!

82. ÈÍÒ. KYIV. MORGUE. EVENING.

… Vova and Adik were sitting on zinc tables, grabbing their knees by their arms resembling Natasha Rostova and listening to a big green fly buzzing round, when Adik said:
- You know how my father beat me to a pulp for that embryo? And he used to be a locomotive driver and his blow was hard.
And after a small pause:
- Fucking Huyama, my back is aching shit!

Adik:
- I used to have a friend, he read a book of Tibetan sages, what is it?.. “A book of Dead” – the one is sold near post-offices. So he said that the most interesting point of life starts after death. At the beginning you see light – oh-ho! Then you climb into such a tube. And after that, when you get out of that tube, different demons meet you.
Vova:
- Who?
Adik:
- Well, kinda real devils. It is important not to make a mistake and to choose the right way, because you may blunder away easily.
Vova:
- And if you are, for instance, dead drunk and a car killed you and there in hell they all are fucking like each other?
Adik:
- Those are lousy versions. As if you made a blunder once – well, you knocked on the wrong door or your answer was incorrect, then it would be over, you wouldn’t find the way back.
 Vova:
- Is that like the television-show, when you did not manage to grab some money in time and then they let out tigers?
Àäèê:
- Kinda like that. Do you have any cigarettes?
- Look in my pocket. There should be a pack of Marlboro Lights, - Vova said wincing in pain.
Adik was smoking and looking the interior over. He liked a beautiful girl on the next table. (The dialogue is shot in Tarantino’s slow and minimal manner).

- In general it is cool over here, - he said and added after thinking a bit: - Let us bra wake up a tart, it is a beautiful tart.
- You’ d better not touch anything, - Vova said. – You just told me that  – one wrong move and it is over, the end, no way back. Why the fuck do we need it, tell me?
Adik:
- Don’t chicken out, that friend of mine said that at the beginning there will be such corridors and then we need to find the door, but to find it right and not to miss and if everything is right, then we’ll see the sky with diamonds.
Vova:
- And there is the only door here, brother.

Vova came up to the door, pulled it, said: “Closed fuck!” – and after that he knocked. The morgue warder, an old drunk hospital attendant, opened the door from outside, lost consciousness and dropped with a crash on the tile floor.
83. KYIV. MORGUE. CORRIDOR. EVENING.
 The friends jumped over the fallen body and, holding each other’s hands they ran down the long tile corridor to the light of a dim lamp, just like two moths.
(Vista shot: dark silhouettes are running down a white tiled corridor).

84. ÈÍÒ. KYIV. MORGUE. EVENING.

An old gentleman kept lying next to a beauty. At foreground scene the gentleman’s face, at background – small figures of Vova and Adik running away).
Lucilia the green fly was spinning overhead for a long time.

Voice off screen: “What an appetizing dead body, - Lucilia the fly thought, - and this dumb Paraska she is crazy about shit, no sense in teaching them, village rednecks… They understand nothing! And those two – I got at once they pretend, they have such a repulsive male smell, it is not my area at all, it is Paraska who is fond of.. And I will sit on this dead man, it is clear he’s an intelligent man… And what a smell, it is something! French perfume is just funk compared to it… Well my dear sister, go dive, go!”

And she sat on the old gentleman’s face. Draught busted into the door moved his hair, dim flash shimmered in his eye, a forked tongue caught a green fly deftly.
85. KYIV. MORGUE. CORRIDOR. EVENING.
Vova and Adik turned round the corner already and appeared in a hall where a luxurious monumental coffin with golden handles in Empire style stood on a small dais. A majestic Emperor profile stuck out of the coffin. “To Dear Napoleon Karlovich from his colleagues” was written in gold on a crape band girdling an expensive wreath.
Some burning torches stuck out of the wall over the splendid coffin. Adik and Vova rushed by, Adik pulled out a torch. He was running like an Olimpian sportsman, and having reached an iron door he lit up the locking bar. Another effort, the locking bars were thrown down and the two friends appeared in the morgue’s court-yard in Orangereynaya Street.

86. KYIV. MORGUE. COURT-YARD. EVENING.
Starry summer sky hung above them.

- Look, - Adik said. – Everything is just perfect.
- The starry sky is above us, - Vova said. – As well as something else. I don’t remember it right.
-
87. AIRPORT BORYSPOL. FLYING FIELD. AFTERNOON.

The fuselage fragment of Maharaja ‘s plane was decorated with porno relief of Temple Khajuraho (panorama). The most appetizing details were placed on the door. The ladder rode up, the door opened… The first who stepped on the ladder was the INDIAN HANDSOME SERVANT carrying a tiger-cub on a lead – he had poured whisky to Maharaja and Charlie before.

General view: red rug, PHOTOGRAPHS, TELEVISION CAMERAMEN, limousine, Sosunovsky and his BODYGUARDS, GIRLS IN UKRAINIAN FOLK COSTUMES...

Maharaja stayed in the background.  After the handsome servant the retinue went down the ladder - splendid fat-bottomed Indian whores in sari, hunks – body-guards in turbans with daggers and pistols, a Buddhist monk  and other decorative small fry. (low angle).

Quick television station girls in national Ukrainian costumes holding bread-and-salt rushed up to a tall handsome man with a yataghan, who was leading a tiger-cub.
- You are heartily welcome, sir! – a girl in a garland and red high boots cheeped flirtatiously, poking bread and salt into the beard of an Indian dandy.
The latter pinched a bit of bread and salt and put them in his mouth taking on a clever expression. But he did not have enough time to chew it – a yataghan whizzed and the blood gushed out of his throat in a powerful current like from the hose. (strongly styled shot, extreme CU, slow motion)
It was Maharaja who chopped off his head with a skillful blow of the yataghan.
A headless body made a zigzag and crashed down into dust, still squeezing a lead with a tiger by his one hand and bread-and-salt by another.
 
 The chopped off head rolled down the lawn and stuck on the flower-bed among national marigolds and sun flowers finishing a still-life picture in such a manner.
- Don’t put the cart before the horse when hurrying to hell, – Maharaja said tenderly with a heavy accent.
He smiled in a fascinating way, flapped off the blood from the yataghan’s blade with one sharp move and, drawing a curve glittered under the sun, put it into his sheath. Everything was done with artistic skill at lightning speed and without even a slight error.
The girls were wearing garlands, Sosunovsky with his body-guards, reporters with their cameras spattered with blood watched what was going on like crazy (sequence of close-ups and medium shots).
Maharaja took bread-and-salt from a girl’s hands, took the lead of the bored tiger-cub out of the dead man’s hand and stalked along into one of the cars with his retinue.
- Welcome to the hospitable Ukrainian land! - Sosunovsky peeped in bewilderedly. The innocent victim’s blood decorated his plump cheeks, and his pink lips formed the word: “Yuck!”
Everyone except the dead man and his head being aptly arranged sat in limousines. The head at the foreground, the limousines and escort cars rushed behind, the raised dust powdered the still life…


88. ÝÊÑÒ. BORYSPOL. AIRPORT’S GATE. AFTERNOON.


They were passing by the airport gates past two black jeeps, when Charlie said (in English and after this we hear their dialogue in off-screen translation):
- I didn’t have an idea you speak Ukrainian, sir!
- This is the only thing I know, - Maharaja said laughing.
- What the hell, sir? – Charlie asked.
- This is a sort of Samsara, mister Charles, - Maharaja said and they both laughed like crazy.

A young samurai in a black jeep looked after the cavalcade, gave an order in Japanese and turning around synchronously with the second jeep went on their tail. They rushed along the highway Borispol-Kyiv, trying not to lose sight of Maharaja’s motorcade,
89. ÝÊÑÒ. KYIV. PEROVSKA AVENUE. ROAD. AFTERNOON.

Lifunchuk was riding down the avenue with Tetyana. Maharaja’s limousine took over the old roadster smoothly (first overtaking), Yakuza jeeps followed the limousine relentlessly. They were riding near each other for some time, and Maharaja puffing cigar’s smoke out the window noticed something.

- Look, - he said to Charlie. – Doesn’t it remind you of anything?
He pointed at Charlie’s pipe in deft Lifunchuk’s fingers by his cigar.
- There were only two such pipes, sir – one was mine and the second belonged to my cousin George. Uncle Spencer gave them to us at our graduation ball in Sandherst. “Smoke to your health, bastards” – he said before he got clinched by whiskey with untie Lizzy.

- How did his karma go after this act? – Maharaja asked, anticipating pleasure.
- Uncle Spencer went to Congo to study the life of mountain gorillas, - Charlie said. – We did not see him anymore. Though local hikuyu said he became their chief.
- Hikuyu’s chief? – asked Maharaja.

Lifunchuk speeded up and overtook the limousine and Yakuza in his turn. (second overtaking). 

- The gorillas’ chief, sir, - explained Charlie and waved to Lifunchuk through the window. The latter smiled charmingly and waved the pipe in response.

It was noticed in a black jeep. The young samurai was looking attentively at this courtesy exchange through the car window and then he said abruptly and coldly: 
- Simamura!
- Ho, Uyehara-san! – a thick samurai being driving responded.
- Follow him! – Uyehara said in clear Ukrainian, pointing at Lifunchuk. And he also said several Japanese words into the walkie-talkie. 
Uyehara overtook Maharaja’s limousine and got at Lifunchuk’s tail (third overtaking), who speeded up and rushed ahead, the second jeep took Uyehara’s place. Tetyana felt something was wrong, she turned back anxiously. Lifunchuk dodged but Uyehara stuck fast to him. He studied a photo of Tetyana who turned round again at this very moment.
 
- It is they, - Uyehara said briefly.


90. INDIA. DELHI AIRPORT. AIRFIELD. AFTERNOON. SEPIA.

Subtitle:
Delhi Airport, India. Twenty years ago.

Retrospective show:
Sarasvati spit his tongue right in the bearded mug of a Sikh, guard’s officer. (close-up, slow motion). Sikhs surrounded a bloody dead body, snatched out the packages from his hands, while their chief was fighting with the fidgety tongue of Sarasvati. The tongue which was wriggling as a worm, jumped over his bearded mug. (graphics). The chief was beating against the obtrusive tongue with his hands, till one of the Sikhs unwrapped a package and found a doll inside. It was a beautiful Indian doll – a girl, a kind of an Indian Barbie. A similar Indian Ken was found in the second package. Total fuss, frantic gesticulation, Indian swears. Airport workers were running up from all sides. (vist shot, view from above).
Sarasvati’s tongue got away stealing out of harm's way. Wriggling it jumped towards the airfield – freight compartment of a huge ‘Boeing’ was being loaded there at that moment. Bananas. Many boxes. A sly mug of one of the loaders grinned ominously, his only eye flashed wildly when he transmitted a bananas box to one of his workmates in a plane. They exchanged unclear phrases in Hindi. The workmate smiled and taking the box passed the verge of his palm over his throat. Sarasvati’s tongue was wriggling quite near the ladder. Though it was not frisking for long: a giant raven, attracted by its quivering jumped up nearer sideling cunningly – and pecked it with delight. Then he croaked and flew to the end of the world.

91. KYIV. PETROVSKA AVENUE. AFTERNOON.

Lifunchuk dodged along Petrovska avenue, leaving devastation behind himself but the black jeep of Uyehara kept up with him. The pursuit was carried on according to all the rules – taking on the opposite direction runway, burning cars and many other different interesting tricks.

TWO BOOZERS crossed the street, one pressed vodka to his breast with care, another was carrying some briquettes with processed cheese.

Lifunchuk went round them skillfully, and Yakuza jeep did not fit in the turn and was about to knock them down. A bottle of vodka broke, and another boozer flung the briquettes into the windshield. The processed cheese dropped against the glass and stuck solidly. “Faggots!” – the boozers shouted after Yakuza.

Uyehara’ jeep rode on the opposite direction runway trying to overtake Lifunchuk. The bier coming towards them turned to the roadside to avoid collision, collided with the heap of building waste and stopped dead in the posture of a copulating dog with a lifted up nose and a dropped stern.

At the sudden collision THE PEOPLE IN A BIER fell on the coffin, the coffin rammed the rear hatch and jumped onto the highway.

A dead body flew out of the coffin and landed successfully onto the hood of the leading car of a wedding procession which turned up not at the right moment. A tied up jaw of the dead man clanked with relish. A doll on the hood embraced the dead body with its doll’s hands.

In a wedding limousine a BRIDE AND a GROOM, the young people dressed in gothic style  (piercing, Mohawk haircut, black leather, chains and other bullshit) were exclaiming: “Cool! Fuck!”, “I am shocked really…”. “Wow, fuck it – what a dolly!” – the bribe screamed. They gesticulated energetically and were beside themselves of the show with delight.

 The pursuit just rushed under Lover’s Bridge, Lifunchuk made a trick – “cop’s sharp turn”, Tatiana squealed, Uyehara’s jeep skidded, it turned over, rode on its roof, and stopped near Petrovsky monument. Uyehara and Simamura got out of an overturned car with lightning speed. Lifunchuk ran towards them not giving them time to come to their senses. The fight began. The magnificent combat moved gradually towards the library.
Maharaja’s limousine following the battle stopped. Maharaja enjoyed the show with delight, puffing his cigar. The DRIVER in white gloves poured champagne to Maharaja.
 
- These Ukrainians are very hospitable people, mister Charles, - Maharaja said, observing Lifunchuk’s kicks cascade. – For the first time in my life I see such a brilliant show arranged in honor of my decent person. 
- For you – only the best, sir, - Sosunovsky said with an insincere grin.
This time Lifunchuk having ended with Simamura drove Uyehara on the library’s stairs. Several skillful kicks and the latter fell down prone
Uyehara tried to make himself hara-kiri, but Lifunchuk snatched tanto dagger out of his hands.

- Wow! that beats all, guys!!! –  said BEAR SELLER having watched the fight. – This is a present for you from our firm.
He reached out two “Obolon” beers to them.

 - Let me die, - Uyehara asked.
Lifunchuk extended a bottle of beer to him:
- You’d better revive, - he said peacefully. – Why is all this show about? Who are you guys? What do you want?
- We are Ukrainian Yakuza, - Uyehara said, pushing away the beer. – We don’t need you. We want your woman. Give her to us and go away.
- First you wanna die, then you don’t want some beer, and then you want a woman. What extremes! – Lifunchuk said thoughtfully. – Maybe you just flew off the handle? We Chinese steer a middle course, which Confuses taught us. Just to be of sound mind.
He again offered some beer to Uyehara peacefully, took a sip himself though he relaxed and lost control because Uyehara with a flash-like movement got a tanto out of his pocket and plunged it into his stomach. Uyehara fell face down the stairs of the library and Lifunchuk was already running to Tetyana who was vividly getting out of the car through the jammed door. Maharaja only shook his head on seeing her haunches.
- Now I understand why they cannot get up from the benches, Mister Charles he said laughing. Then he applauded.
Lifunchuk bowed, picked up Tetyana and disappeared in a yard with a through-passage. Maharaja with his retinue flew away like a king in his limousine.

Vova and Adik, getting out of the library, stumbled over Uyehara’s dead body. Heavy books fell down on the pavement and landed in a puddle of blood near the body. It was Kant, Bertrand Russell and Jean-Paul Sartre. And there was also a big and thick book: “The Book of the Dead” – was written on its cover.

92. BACK STREET. AFTERNOON.

In the yard near the garbage container Lifunchuk turned Tetyana to himself. He grasped her strongly:
- Now you will tell me everything, - he said firmly.
A garbage heap suddenly fired with a pride of STREET CATS. They flew to different sides with wild mewing. DEMONSTRATORS  rushed by the street.

93. STREET. AFTERNOON.

A crowd of demonstrators rushed by, waving blue flags with a roar “Yanukovich”. (The crowd rushes from left to right at foreground in defocusing, Adik and Vova at the background in focus).

Glib television journalists pressed Vova and Adik hard, poking the microphones into their faces.
- This is “Another dimension” program, can you answer our questions?
- It depends on the questions, - Vova said carefully.
- Do you believe in life after death?
- You are asking as you don’t know it yourself, - Adik said rather coarsely, picking up the fallen books.
The demonstrators with white flags crying “Yulia” rushed by (from right to left and closer to camera).

- It is clear that you have something to say, – an importunate journalist insisted. – Well, spit it out then, please, don’t be shy!
- And I am not! -  Adik replied smiling at the camera with idiotic airs.


94. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON.

Vista shot of the office. Contrasting lighting. Curtain waves. Selyodka sat at the table. A country moron having shown at the farmstead stood before him (vista shot, two silhouettes).

- They got on the tracks, Master, - he said. – This is Ukrainian Yakuza.
- Who?! – Selyodka asked in sheer bewilderment.
The moron was cool and businesslike and he was not like a moron anymore, a silly grin disappeared (close-up) and he was dressed decently enough (contrast lighting).

- A criminal Japanese group which works in Ukraine, - the “moron” specified. – They are professionals, Master. They will find her in the shortest term, so…
- That’s excellent, - Selyodka interrupted him. – I counted on this. Why do anything by yourself if someone else will do it better than you? I wish I had such people at my service. Unfortunately we seem to go opposite ways? -  he added half- questioning.

The shadow of the curtain slid down Dracula’s face. Selyodka played with the rodent’s skull. He clicked with the rodent’s jaw fastened with a spring.
 
- Yes, Master, - the “moron” said. – They are interested only in dough.
- Maybe they will understand someday, - Selyodka replied. – And not only them – everyone will understand! Everyone! Very soon!
He was almost crying.
- Yes, Master, - “moron” said. – Soon, - and he smiled in a smutty way. – Everything is ready for “Armageddon”, Master.
Selyodka waved his hand and the “moron” disappeared.
- She will come to us right out of the blue, - Selyodka said.
Selyodka got from the table and suddenly he kicked his leg sideways (it was an excellently performed Yoko Geri’s side kick), but he did not pull it back, the leg kept on sticking out to the side when the door opened and Mykola Veresen’ showed in the doorway. 

- Shit, - frightened Mykola said.

He said it because Selyodka turned smoothly and now his shoe stuck out right opposite Veresen’s nose (direct quotation: Bruce Lee «Enter the Dragon»).

- I am working, - Selyodka said and smiled charmingly.

The door slammed behind Veresen’.

Selyodka came to a target made of a portrait of the competitive channel’s general director. “Exster” channel a day took your troubles away” – was written over a fat mug of the general director, who had a dart on his eye-spot. Selyodka cast another one aptly and hit right in the general director’s nose.
He grinned, winked at Dracula’s portrait, turned his back to the target, and getting reckless of his own skill cast a dart over his shoulder blindly, and…



95.TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON. (CONT.)
A woman’s hand with rapacious red nails intercepted the dart suddenly (slow motion). Matilda sneaked into the office as a cat, standing behind Selyodka’s back she stuck the dart in another eye of “Exster’s general director.
- Ooh, you frightened me bitch!- Selyodka said turning around – he was not frightened actually. It was the general director on the poster having been really scared. His face after execution wore a gloomy look, no a trace left of his self-complacent courage. 
- Beast, - Matilda said, stepping softly and licking her lips lustfully. – I missed you, beast! – and she slipped down to Selyodka’s feet, caressing him and unbuttoning his trousers.
(Matilda – front medium shot, vista shot of Selyodka. View from above. Matilda is sinking down before Vlad, camera goes up. General shot of profile: Selyodka stands, Matilda unbuttons his trousers. Several angles from below: his face, her back etc). 

But Selyodka did not let her feel the delight of blow-job. He seized her by her red hair, turned her back brutally, pushed to the table and fucked her from behind (close-up of Matilda’s buttocks). He threw her torn panties on the Dracula’s portrait. The panties hung on the portrait having covered one eye to the Prince.

Seliodka growled of passion, he took Matilda’s hair with one hand, the latter was whining by bending and leaned against a massive table. (vista shot of profile, front medium shot: Selyodka’s face over Matilda’s face, close-up of the fingers pressing a red lock).
 
The table shook and rocked, a skull of a big rodent skipped over the table, cracking by sharp teeth. The “Exster” general director’s portrait became even more sad, blood was exuding out of the eyes pierced by darts (close-up).
 Dracula’s portrait crashed as usual down the wall with a horrible rattle. (front medium shot: Selyodka is above Matilda at the foreground a little to the left, behind them the window with the thunderstorm and a waving curtain, on the wall to the right – the Price’s portrait falling from the wall in the frame)
The lightning flashed behind the window. Thunder roared dreadfully, the door closed with a crash, the draught blew, a curtain trying in vain to escape into the open, wrapped the lovers with a white shroud.

The table under them trembled in the rhythm of the rushing train.

96. THE CARPATHIANS. MOUNTAINS. MIST. AFTERNOON.

A freight train rushed through the thunderstorm right to meet us (frontal frame), it ran along the vertical line from above downwards (view from above), camera moved in an opposite direction and having slipped over the train fixed on the mountain rolled in mist (helicopter shooting). Wolves howled and their teeth chattered horribly (close-up).

The train was dashing in the mountains, breaking through low clouds, clattering on rails joints… (epic vista view, the train at the background of the mountains). There were packages in the cars, many packages (view from above). Tomato juice… The wolves howled again…



97. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. CLOUDY DAY

The wolves’ howling turned into Matilda’s and Selyodka’s howling. Thunderstorm, shower, wind and infernal fucking – everything mixed in Selyodka’s office. The shower poured into the window, wet curtains wrapped the lovers.
The table was swinging, coinciding with the train in rhyme. The rodent’s skull skipped over the table and chattered with its teeth as a freight train by its wills on the rails joints. Matilda howled on coming, Selyodka roared, the table shook, the rodent’s skull skipping up bit Selyodka’s finger, lightning flashed, thunder pealed.

98. THE CARPATHIANS. MOUNTAINS. MIST. AFTERNOON.

Several packages were torn, a red stream dragged after the last wagon, the splashes flew mixing with the drops of rain. The lightning illuminated the last train’s wagon and the red stream beating through a crack of the wagon’s door. Some wolves ran after the freight train.


99. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. CLOUDY DAY.

Matilda and Selyodka crashed onto the floor. Seliodka shook off a pestering rodent’s skull, the latter hanged seizing on the curtain with his teeth. The curtain, spotted by bloody tears of “Exster’s general director, was beating in the wind.
“A bride’s bed-sheet”, - Selyodka said and laughed as an idiot.
Matilda was laughing with a witch’s laugh; a forked tongue was seen in her mouth. 

100. THE CARPATHIANS. MOUNTAINS. NIGHT.

A box fell out of the last wagon, the packages with juice flew to the rails. In the left corner of a package Price Dracula was depicted. The inscription read: “Tomato Dracula. The Real Force Secret” (close-up).

Wolves were lapping red liquid from the puddle. A torn juice package lied nearby.


101. “HYATT” HOTEL. MAHARAJA’S SUITE. WINTER GARDEN. AFTERNOON.

The tiger cub was lapping champagne from a goblet. Maharaja laid in the gold-plated bath near the window of a luxury room of Kyiv’s hotel “Hyatt” (back lighting, silhouette picture). Greenery and exotic flowers surrounded him, birds were chirping in cages. 

Maharaja gave champagne to a little tiger, smoked a cigar, waved away the parrots, listened to the thunderstorm, raging behind the open window. The curtain stirred. The tiger cub roared.

A black shadow slipped down his face. A huge raven flew into the window, and was swinging boldly on the chandelier, croaked and twaddled in Sanskrit (we hear his chatter in off-screen translation). Bewildered, Maharaja had nothing to do except lay in the Jacuzzi and shake off cigar’s ash into the champagne:
- At last almighty Brahma showed me your way, Master, - the raven croaked with pathos in Sanskrit.
- Who are you? – Maharaja spoke hoarsely.
- I am Sarasvati, the chief of Magicians-oppressors, master of shadows in goddess Kali kingdom, let my worthless tongue never lie, - the raven said pretentiously.
- I don’t know who you were in your previous lives, but my faithful Sikhs shot this rascal in Delhi airport, - Maharaja said. – Either he turned into a crow or you are dirtying your karma birdie.
- I am Vasya, - the raven suddenly said in Ukrainian unexpectedly enough.
- Split personality, - Maharaja said puffing his cigar. – What a country, even crows are schizophrenics here. 
- Your daughter is in danger, - raven Vasya said.
- I don’t have a daughter,– Maharaja uttered gloomily.
The raven bowed his head, looked at Maharaja, flew up to the ceiling, made a circle, then he twaddled some bullshit in Sanskrit, defecated on Maharaja’s head and flew away into the raging thunderstorm.

- I don’t have any children, do you hear me you stupid crow?! – Maharaja shouted after him.


102. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON.


Selyodka was hanging a fallen Dracula portrait on the wall and at that moment the prince’s eyes suddenly flashed with green fire.
- She is here!! – Selyodka screamed, having jumped away from the portrait.
- You are just crazy, honey, - Matilda said tenderly.
- Witch, - Selyodka said. – You understand nothing, witch. All this blood is dead without her. She is the only one to give life to everything. And now she is here. He smells her. She is here.
- Who is she? – Matilda asked, - and what is this portrait for?
- I got this portrait from my mother, - Selyodka said in a whisper. – Her maiden name was Fluorescu. Do you know what it means? I am a direct heir of the Prince by my mother.
- But your father… - Matilda said.
- My father was an ordinary country slime, - Selyodka said. – It happened so. It doesn’t matter. Only my mother matters. This portrait kept silent all these years. And now it felt her. She is here!
- Who is she? – Matilda asked playfully. She was listening to her lover’s story inattentively, she was not fully satisfied yet and wanted to continue.
- The one who gives life, - Selyodka said. – I was seeking for her for twenty years, and now she appeared to us out of the blue. Maybe she sits having coffee with Veresen’ and Borsuk in a buffet, or laughs at stupid kidding of camera-men in a smoking room.
- But you are not going to run around all the television-center with your relative portrait waiting for him to goggle, are you, - Matilda said licking her lips.

Selyodka came up to her and said:
- I will find her, - and his eyes flashed with a similar green fire as Dracula’s eyes. He stuck in Matilda and Matilda pulled her legs apart.
- Beast, - she said tenderly.

Lightning flashed over the window. The television-center tower rose gloomily among clouds. Crows flew struggling against rain and wind. There were many crows. (computer graphics).

103. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.

Veresen’ and Borsuk walked along the television center’s corridor towards the buffet. OLD MEN AND WOMEN holding each other’s hands as children at walk in the nursery school were coming towards them. And they also came across a PARE OD GIGGLING GAYS dressed in leather trousers with holes cut on their buttocks and an ELEGANT OLD WOMAN WITH MAKE-UP and with a pack of SMALL DOGGIES of different breeds, CAMERAMEN in black were sliding on the parquet softly and silently as ninja (dolly).

Borsuk stumbled over one of the old parquet’s packages fallen apart and scattered about on the floor in disorder.
- And when are these assholes gonna fix this up? – he asked swearing loudly.
- You see, - Veresen’ said. – One day Kosygin went to Cuba and there Fidel showed him an architectural miracle, where the Cuba television complex was situated and Kosygin said to Fidel, that he liked it very much. And Fidel on seeing such kindly feeling to a work of architecture gave to the USSR all the designs, and he gathered all the engineers-designers and offered them to build a similar building namely in the USSR. Well, Kosygin complimented out of courtesy and Fidel got everything seriously and then out of courtesy they had to build all that here. In addition to that Fidel sent here his illegitimate son – born to a black-skinned mom. So he has his office somewhere here till now though it is impossible to find him. That black man walks at night and many people saw him but he doesn’t show himself as he feels ashamed... And the shame is because this building was designed for tropics and here we have winter and autumn and it is necessary to heat it and renovate everything. On some floors here it snows right on the floor in winter. Thus for the last twenty years there is no one to renovate a television -station. They say this black one has his own office somewhere here but it is not possible to find him.

104. TELEVISION CENTER. BUFFET. AFTERNOON.


Talking like this they appeared in a buffet. Galya was having some coffee at a table watching two celebrities with admiration. Borsuk ordered some okroshka and vodka and Veresen’ – cognac with lemon. They sat at Galya’s table, Veresen’ watched the girl lustfully and winked at Borsuk.

- I have just left here my cigar-case – five minutes ago, when I was having coffee. Haven’t you taken it? – he asked Galya.
- I don’t smoke, - Galya said with an encouraging smile.
- Aha, you apparently don’t smoke cigars, - Veresen’ said. – We usually do it in this cafeteria over the lunch-break from one to two o’clock in the afternoon except weekends and holidays.
- And I saw you on TV, - Galya said. - You are Mykola Veresen’ aren’t you?
- I am Mykola Veresen’, - Veresen’ said. – And this is Tolia Borsuk.
- I am Galya, - Galya said with simplicity.
- That’s fascinating, - Veresen’ said. – Fascinating Galia, which cuisine do you prefer on Thursday – as today’s Thursday and I wish to invite you to go to a restaurant and I wouldn’t like to make a mistake in choosing it. And remember you have no right to reject my offer.
- Why is that? – Galya asked laughing.
- First it is because I am a TV star, - Veresen’ said.
- Well, I am totally dazzled by your shine, - Galya said. – Only stars are all around – you and your friend.
- Bear in mind, - Borsuk uttered. – I have nothing to do with this goy. And judging by your almond-shaped eyes I can see that there were Jews in your kin. I can be so bold as to hint that there were pure-blooded Ashkenazi among your forefathers.
- I think I did not have any Jews in my kin, - Galya said seriously. - Except that maybe among my mother’s relatives?..
- Exactly mother’s! That characterizes you beautifully! That’s why I think, if today is Thursday and not Saturday, you have to come with us to “Peisah” restaurant, which is on Podol, and as today is namely Thursday, known all over the world as a fish day, we will eat fish. Do you know that Jews cook fish perfectly well? – Borsuk said.
- And do you know how they cook fish in our village? – Galya asked. – Altogether this city of yours is stupid. It is hard to breath here. It is not like in our place. We have such air… You can cut it with a knife. I would never live here.

- We also suffer here, - Veresen’ said. And he winked at Borsuk.

And they drank – Borsuk had vodka and Veresen’ cognac. Galya laughed being flattered that such celebrities were flirting with her. Borsuk was eating okroshka which left traces on his beard and Veresen’ was sawing the lemon with a knife. Suddenly the knife slid down and stuck into his hand between his thumb and forefinger. It evidently hit a vein as blood gushed from the wound like a fountain.
- Shit, - Veresen’ said, stopping up the wound. - Fucking knife!


105. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON.

Selyodka tore himself away from Matilda and moved his nose as if smelling his prey. He was smelling like a wolf hunting a deer trying to detect the direction by his outer scent.
- What is it with you? – Matilda asked playfully anticipating a new sexual game. Though Selyodka did not give in, he felt something more interesting.
- Live blood, - he said with a grin. – A man. Not far from here. Maybe in a buffet.
- Somebody cut himself with a knife while cutting a lemon. Or maybe some tart got her period…, - Matilda supposed.
- First guess is correct, - Selyodka said.
- How do you know everything, beast? – Matilda asked laughing.
- And how do you know how to poison living beings with your look? – Selyodka asked.
- It’s from my mother, - Matilda said. – And my grandmother too.
- I also have a mother, - Selyodka said. – But I did not study that.
- And how do you know who exactly is – a man or a woman? – Matilda asked.
- Hard to explain it, - Selyodka said. – I know and that’s it. Would you like to check it out?
- I would, - Matilda said.


106. TELEVISION CENTER. BUFFET. AFTERNOON.

Veresen’ cut his hand deeply. Blood was gushing from the wound; Borsuk was bandaging it with his handkerchief and poured some vodka on it. 
- That is bullshit, Tolya, - Veresen’ said. – Call an ambulance, they will bandage it. I must have touched the vein. Idiot.
- You don’t need an ambulance, - Galya said. She blew onto the wound, as she had blown at the raven Vasya before. The blood stopped immediately, and the wound skinned over.
- How did you do it? – Veresen’ asked perplexed. – Are you extrasensory gifted?
- I don’t know, - Galya said. – I can just do it. When I was little I cut myself with a sickle. And I blew on the wound to relieve the pain. And everything healed up.
- It is for you, Tolya, - Mykola said. - It is for your program about different extrasensory staff.
- And I am inviting you, charming life-guardess, - Borsuk said courteously.
- I wanna go home, to the country – Galya said. Altogether, this city of yours is stupid. It is hard to breath here. The air as if from an exhaust pipe . And our air… you can cut it with a knife. I would never live here.

- We also suffer living here, - said Veresen’. And he winked at Borsuk.

107. TELEVISION CENTER. SECOND FLOOR BALCONY. AFTERNOON.


Selyodka and Matilda watched the wonderful healing from the second floor and Selyodka’s eyes were blazing with green fire.
- Here she is. So near.
- Who? My Gal’ka?! – Matilda was astonished.
- It is under the lamp that is seen the worst, - Selyodka said.

108. KYIV.STREET. AFTERNOON. 

Lifunchuk and Tetyana were beating their way through the crowd of demonstrators, covering up their tracks. (using a spectacular illusion of a huge mass of people present, close-ups).

To use rich polyphonic sound design: the crowd’s hum, mixture of street melodies, some slogans screamed into loudspeakers, ambulance’s horns, swearing and curses, shouts, separate dialogues’ scraps.
 
The crowd is composed of: old women, students, strong country women, robust country men, drunkard city workpeople, half- marginal politically concerned old men dressed in Ukrainian folk shirts, children, dogs etc.

A DETACHMENT OF FAT-BOTTOMMED WOMEN dressed in a riot squad uniform was seen aside from the crowd.
The demonstrators were waving orange and blue flags. Some of them were crying: “Yanukovich”, others: “Yushchenko!” But the loudest cries were ”Yulia! Yulia!”
The faces of Yakuza were shown in the crowd. Huyama noticed Tetytana and Lifunchuk (view from above: the crowd moves from the left to the right, Li and Tetyana cross the people’s stream by diagonal). Yakuza four gangsters in black moved after them at a short distance trying not to attract any attention.
One of the demonstrators, AN ELDERLY LUMPEN PROLETARIAN, seized Lifunchuk by the collar and cried into his ear:
- Pension? What pension? It is my godmother’s birthday and I gave her thirty hryvnas in an envelope as a present. And what could I buy for her? What? Pants?! Or those fucking tights? Listen to me!
Lifunchuk moved aside the enraged old man, looked around, took a flag from an old woman, and from another one he borrowed a cap with the inscription “Yes! Yushchenko”, - and disappeared in the crowd, leading Tatiana behind.
Huyama with three hunks immediately appeared where they just had been. They screwed into the crowd looking around confused as they lost Lifunchuk and Tetyana for an instance. An old woman even hit Huyama on his head with her flag.

109. KYIV. PUB. AFTERNOON.

Lifunchuk and Tetyana were sitting in a pub.

 An old black man was stirring a tea-bag in a plastic glass with a pen, sitting at the entrance. Opposite him under a dusty rubber plant two sailors were eating borsch and drinking vodka. A portrait of Shevchenko, made in poker-work technique, was under them.  An aged and drunk bitch at the next table was flaunting making eyes to them. There was also a tidy stray there with a book of Hesse showed out of his pocket and his one-legged girl-friend in blue robe with golden stars and with a crutch. An old black man was meditating at the rubber plant thoughtfully. He screwed up his eyes…

110. AFRIKA. SAVANNAH. AFTERNOON. DREAM SEQUENCE.

… A huge baobab-like tree grew in Africa. Umbellate acacias were seen far away. Two black men in native clothes sat under the tree and beat tom-toms: “Akuna matata bwana, jumbo haya e-e-eee…” - they sang.


111. ÈÍÒ. KYIV. PUB. AFTERNOON.

Lifunchuk was eating pel’meni with chopsticks. Tetyana was jabbering with Poltava rapid speech:

- I don’t know anything like this, I made of course some mistakes in my youth, everyone makes them, I loved an asshole, he left me, we did not have any children thanks God, I graduated from Trade professional school and I worked at a greengrocery store, then I got bored with it and came back to the country, my parents died, I got some land property, then I worked as a shop assistant at a village store, one man from the city stuck to me, he proposed to me, though I don’t want to, he is old already, saliva sputters as he speaks, I like you much more, such an independent man…

Lifunchuk looked at the black man. The latter was still meditating at the rubber plant, rocking and singing: “Akuna matata bwana, jumbo haya e-e-eee…”

A110. AFRIKA. SAVANNAH. AFTERNOON. DREAM SEQUENCE.

“Akuna matata bwana, jumbo haya e-e-eee…”, - black men were singing under a baobab in the African savanna. A huge gorilla appeared from the shadow of a baobab and joined them.

A111. KYIV. PUB. AFTERNOON.

Huyama and three hunks appeared in the doorway. Lifunchuk saw them out of the corner of his eye, caught a fly circling above the table with his chopsticks – but he did not calculate well and it fell down onto a sailor. The sailors turned back threateningly being perplexed. Huyama and the hunks were throwing chairs with sots to the right and the left with their feet trying to get to Lifunchuk and Tetyana. The sailors engaged in the fight immediately for sure. And elderly whore broke a bottle on a yakuza’s head. A one-legged girl-friend of Hesse lover was trashing another by her crutch. The Hesse lover himself did not take part in the fight, he got a glass of vodka coolbloodedly, smelled his sleeve after it and plunged himself into reading. Lifunchuk demonstrated the wonders of kung-fu: he broke the rest of the furniture and took everyone down except Huyama. The latter had just finished with the sailors, when Lifunchuk beckoned him with his hand.

112. KYIV. PUB. AFTERNOON. (CONT).

Lifunchuk and  Huyama exchanged several skillful kicks… (vista view). Their skills and strengths were equal. They stood face to face (two profiles, medium shot), at the background screen Oyabun appeared in the door way.

- Bravo, mister Lifunchuk! – Oyabun said applauding him. He floated into the pub kinglike followed by five gangsters. – You have already proved your superiority, chief. I don’t see any sense in continuing. Let us stop defending false illusory ideals.
- And what about your guys? – Lifunchuk asked. – What ideals did they die for?
- You may call me sensei, - Oyabun said. – And don’t worry about the guys. Uyehara would make himself seppuku sooner or later. It was a dream of his since his childhood.
- What do you suggest I do then? – Lifunchuk asked. He stood on the table, holding a glass of vodka in one hand and the chopsticks – in another, having used them as a weapon.
- First of all I offer you to drink horilka. You drink horilka, don’t you mister Lee? – Oyabun said.

AUNTY VERA, working as waitress and cleaner at the same time, thriftily put the beaten up bodies in the corner and she kept saying:

- Oh dear, boys, boys... 
- And what about her? – Lifunchuk pointed at Tetyana.
- She will stay with us or you may let her go to hell, - Oyabun said roughly.
- Go to hell yourself, you mister know-it-all! – Tetyana said pouting her lips.
And at that very moment a sailor who came to his senses and got up from the floor with a war-cry: “Yulia!” jumped up to Oyabun from the rear side to bang him with a chair. Oyabun’s reaction was instantaneous. Turning up to his rival sharply he tore his shirt with both hands. Upon his breast and belly Julia Timoshenko was skillfully tattooed. The sailor suddenly became soft and left hold of the chair. The remains of the shirt fell on the floor and at that moment everyone saw that on the brawny back of Oyabun Makhno was tattooed. Father Nestor’s eyes sparkled, two “Maxim” machine-guns dressed in intricate cartouches of cartridge belts were aiming dreadfully to the right and to the left of Oyabun’s shoulders. Now it was Leefunchuk who applauded him.
- That is called to win without a fight, - he said laughing and drinking down a glass of vodka boldly. – Bravo sensei!
- Horilka to everyone! – Oyabun shouted and invited Lifunchuk and Tetyana to the table with a gesture. Now they sat in the pub having put the tables all together: drunkards, sailors, a black man, Yakuza, Lifunchuk and Tetyana, Hesse lover and his girl-friend and Lifunchuk asked pointing at the tattoos:
- How did you get all this?
- We are Yakuza and we love tattoos, - Oyabun said.
Aunty Vera brought some dumplings, chebureks and vodka.

- Well but what about Makhno and his staff?

Oyabun stuck out his breast muscle as Yulia winked at Lifunchuk.

113. ANIMATION. RETROSPECTIVE VIEW.
The off-screen text is followed with a comic-strip animation.
- At the beginning of the century, when Nestor Makhno was cutting his way with fights to Romania in Dniester fluxes, his retreat was shielded by ataman Kurilenko, - oyabun said. – He was killed according to official returns, sheltering Bat’ko’s running fights. But his body was never found. In fact he was wounded heavily in that fight but he managed to hide in the fluxes. The local villagers found him unconscious. A beautiful girl nursed him back to health and a great romance arose between them.
- But I don’t understand, - Lifunchuk rocked his head.
- He escaped from the Bolsheviks, first – to China, then – to Japan, he served in the Emperor’s army but he had to desert a month before surrendering. Rumors said that he hacked an officer to death. Thus he got among yakuza. He gained authority quickly, the family which he headed was successful. But other families were envious of him and in addition to that he was not Japanese. Though he always stuck to the code of honour. It was made clear to him that he was not wanted in Japan. After that a part of his family stayed in Japan but the majority went to Ukraine after their Oyabun.

114. KYIV. PUB. AFTERNOON.

- And what about her? Was she with him all that time? – Tetyana asked.
- My mother always followed my father, - oyabun said, casting a sidelong look at the tattoo.
- So that is…? – Lifunchuk asked pointing at the tattoo.
- Just random resemblance, - Oyabun said and Yulia winked at Lifunchuk joyfully again. – Though sometimes it can be of use. And now, - Oyabun said turning to Tetyana, - tell us dear lady, how you worked industriously at a greengrocery store twenty years ago.
- I just worked and that’s it, - Tetyana said. – Nothing interesting.
- Right, - Oyabun said. – Nothing. Though one nice day you got a consignment of Indian bananas. Nothing special. But in one of the boxes besides bananas there were also a couple of babies. A girl and a boy. What did you do with them, my dear?
- Well if about that – yes, there was such a thing once, - Tetyana said. – You should better have asked me from the very beginning and not tied up my hands at once! I didn’t say a word to anyone, of course, as they would bring the children to an orphanage and it was such a… a horror, in one word, everyone steals there, the children are starving, so I thought to myself that there are wealthy people in our village and it is better for the children to be with them than in an orphanage, that’s why I sent a girl stealthily to Matilda Zelenchihova’s house and a boy - to Mykola Gupaluk’s who used to be the director of a factory. With such people the children will be cared for, and what – did I do something wrong? And take into account if you are from the Public Prosecutor’s Office, I will reject everything – as if I didn't have enough to worry about! I was young and stupid, only seventeen, now I would adopt them myself maybe, though they say it is such a head-ache to adopt, without mentioning the papers to collect which are countless…
- Who is this Matilda? – Oyabun asked.
- Well one wealthy witch, she lives in our village, - Tetyana said. – we have many witches in our village on the whole, every second bedevils. What our militia looks at, I don’t understand really… And even worse those would come, Jehovah’s witnesses and other sects – I don’t know at all. And what do you want –no church in the village!

Oyabun looked at Huyama thoughtfully.

- Red dress? – he asked. Huyama nodded. – And where is she now this witch?

- They all went to Kyiv yesterday – Matilda and Galka with Angela and Veronika. People said they went on TV, to be in a show. Sure! That is such a bitch that she has good connections everywhere. She buried both her husbands and she fucks a producer from Kyiv – and they did not get registered. A sin and a shame! And do you think she lives near a graveyard just for no reason? When I meet her I make “horns” with my fingers and hold them in my pocket. Do you know that?

- You make horns in your pocket for her and you put a little baby to her nevertheless, - Oyabun said.

- I was young and stupid, - Tetyana said in grief. – Now I would have taken her myself. Or maybe given her to someone decent. But where could I find such a decent one? You see what is going on around…

- And did you see him yourself some when? – Oyabun asked, - well that man, the producer?

- I myself – no, I did not, I will not lie, as long as I live in the village – I did not see him, - Tetyana was chattering.

- So how do you know? – Oyabun asked archly.
- People said, - Tetyana whispered, opening her eyes wide.
- Hey boys and girls, go quickly take away your plates, - aunty Vera said and slapped with a wet cloth on the table, not paying attention to the inconvenience she put. Our heroes only just could dodge her huge bottom.

- Why are you meddling in all this? – Lifunchuk asked. – Some children in a banana box, witches, producers… You have a sound business as far as I can see… 
Aunty Vera’s floor cloth and big bottom barred our heroes from seeing each other.

- The matter is whose children are they, mister Lifunchuk, - Oyabun said, dodging the floor cloth. This village girl, her name is Galya you said? – is a daughter of Maharaja of Bharatpur named Brajrajkalamatras and a princess Lakshmi who died in childbirth. She is a born goddess of life, and was kidnapped in her childhood by a chief of Magicians-oppressors Sarasvati. A missing link in a ring of Ataman-Brahma. Such as she appears among mortals once every ten thousand years.
- And this boy? – Tetyana cut in.
- He is her twin-brother, - Oyabun answered. – Yet it does not matter. Only the girl matters. And as far as I know at the moment she is now at ‘You and I’ TV channel together with her step mother. I don’t think there is any more dangerous place on the Earth for her.

115. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.
Maharaja continued with his retinue, Selyodka and Sosunovsky were walking down the TV center. All TV riffraff that gathered to look at Maharaja stepped aside with respect. The procession just passed by Galya with Veresen’ and Borsuk when Sosunovsky stopped to introduce them to Maharaja.
 
- These are the stars of our TV channel, - he said it in English. – Mykola Veresen’ and Anatoly Borsuk.
- And this young girl is maybe a youth program hostess? – Maharaja asked. – What a charming face!
- Yes, sir, - Sosunovsky confirmed not being the least bit confused. – She is the hostess of a sports-entertaining program for youth. This is a very popular program, sir.
He even managed to call up Selyodka and ask him in whisper:
- What girl is that, Vlad? Why don’t I know her? Appoint her to cast the  program “Hey Girls!”
-
- What kind of sports does the young lady practice? – Maharaja asked Galya.
- Kung-fu, sir. Heylutsuan style, - Galya answered in her simple manner.
- If in this country beautiful girls do such serious things, then what do the guys do? – Maharaja asked amazed loudly.
- They have ancient war traditions, sir, - Charles said. - In old times they used to have a cast of warriors, called kozaks in Ukraine. They lived in the middle of the Dnieper and were practicing martial arts. Everyone was afraid of them, sir, Poles, Turks, Tatars.
- And their wives – were they with them? – Maharaja asked.
- No, sir, - Charles asked.
- Why? – Maharaja was curious.
- They ran away from their wives sir.
- Why? – Maharaja asked.
- Because their wives were cooler than they were, sir, - Charles said and both of them shouted with laughter.

- We just wanted to show you a new studio for the Armageddon program sir, - Sosunovsky said to Maharaja. – This is a very popular program. The advertisement only gives us a lot of dough…
- What is the program idea? – Maharaja asked.
- This is an interactive game, - Sosunovsky said. – An ordinary person saves the world…
- And gains 10 million dollars? – Maharaja asked.
- Exactly, - Sosunovsky said. – Millions of people all over Ukraine watch this program. We have off the wall TV ratings.
- That’s fair, - Maharaja said. – If you saved the world and did not get ten million dollars for that, those saved by you will consider you an idiot.
- These are such times, sir, - Sosunovsky said.
These are bad times, mister Sosunovsky, - Maharaja said roughly. - The times when people become ungrateful, women are like men and men are like women, - and he cast a deprecative glance at the general director.

 
116. KYIV. PUB. AFTERNOON.
- Do you believe all this bullshit yourself? – Lifunchuk asked.

- If I believe or I don’t – what is the difference? The fact is that the children were kidnapped – so somebody needed it. It only matters for me that these children’s father would be happy to see them again and would not spare his milliards for this. .

- Those are medieval tales, - Lifunchuk said. - Dialectical materialism has doted all the “i”s in this question.

- Another question is becoming stiffer – do idealism and materialism differ? – Oyabun said thoughtfully. – And if you only make this fantastic assumption, then this whole unreal story becomes logical and clear. Your materialistic view only hampers you, comrade.

- So what was the reason to kidnap children? – Lifunchuk asked.

- It is an old story, - Oyabun said. And I don’t know everything. Bastards who kidnapped the children were acting for the order. And I have a guess whose order it was. In this country there is only one person who could get interested in them. Though something went wrong and our charming lady got the children instead of the customers.
- Who is this customer? –   Lifunchuk asked.
- Well, an ass-hole, - Oyabun said. – We are not angels ourselves for sure, though we were never engaged either in drug trafficking or in slave trading. And we have never kidnapped children. – and he added. – And this is not the worst thing.
- What can be worse? – Lifunchuk asked.
- He is a vampire, - Oyabun said simply. - Dracula’s offspring.
 

117. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.

Maharaja with the procession rushed down the television center corridor. Selyodka followed him with his eyes.

- He recognized her, - Selyodka said to Matilda. – He doesn’t know it himself yet, but he recognized her. I feel it.
- He even made her a program hostess, - Matilda said. – Our Cinderella got a quick promotion, little bitch. And both my block-heads were sent down after the first round. Now they sit there and cry, two idiots. Damn them, - Matilda said with abhorrence.
- That means nothing yet, you know pretty well, did you believe that she would be a program hostess indeed? – Selyodka said. – The train has arrived already.
- Yes, the train has arrived, - Matilda said baring her teeth. – Now it all is not worth a shit really, – and she pulled out a small looking glass…

118. KYIV. PUB. AFTERNOON.

- That is impossible, - Lifunchuk said. - Vampires don’t exist any longer. If they did the Chinese intelligent service would know about them.

Oyabun looked at Lifunchuk attentively and smiled widely.

- Why didn’t I guess before? – he said.

- I am here on personal business, - Lifunchuk said.

- That’s clear, no questions, - Oyabun said. He drank up his vodka and said: - Though some things exist in the world which even the Chinese intelligent service don’t know about.
Lifunchuk made a protesting gesture but Oyabun went on coldly:
- Vampires do exist. They are not the same as they used to be before, they transformed, they don’t put on black cloaks and they don’t live in castles. They may look like very ordinary rednecks, and so much the worse. They occupy power, business and politics. Still television interests them the most

- And what do they want? – Lifunchuk asked.
- The power all over the world, - Oyabun said. – I don’t know why exactly, but they need our girl. Everything meets in this point..
.
- “A fantastic assumption” again? Ok, there is something to it. Though I don’t think Matilda knows about our princess birth, - Lifunchuk shook his head.

119. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.

Matilda  looked in a small looking glass where the train was reflected.


120. KYIV. “KYIV-TOVARNAYA” RAILWAY  STATION. AFTERNOON.

The freight train stood at “Kyiv-tovarnaya” railway station. The porters were loading the boxes with tomato juice into the refrigerators. One of the packages tore, fat flies were flying over the red puddle, bony station dogs were lapping it up. Several crows with business-like airs were walking next to it. A big black raven jumped near them.

121. KYIV. PUB. AFTERNOON.
 
- Anything like this has never come to my mind though she is my student and I know her well. But it was her mother who interested me more.

- I understand, - Oyabun said. – Maybe it is that very your “personal business”, - and he smiled dirtily.
- The trace from Matilda leads to a bastard, - Lifunchuk said coldly.
- And you were waiting for him in this god-forsaken hole to finish with him and to get away imperceptibly, - Oyabun summed up. – Tarantula tactics.

Lifunchuk nodded.

- That’s great Mister Spiderman, - Oyabun said. – It seems to me somehow that the one who you were waiting for in your web and the one I mean are the same person. So he did not appear in the village, that means he knows nothing. And he would appear for sure if he knew. We have a chance.
- Vlad, - Huyama said and he cracked his joints.
- Is his name Vlad? – Lifunchuk asked (close-up, highlighted).
- He has many names, - Oyabun said. – And he took this nickname in honour of the prince, his famous forefather.
- How do you know everything? – Lifunchuk asked with envy.
- We are Ukrainian Yakuza, - Oyabun said with pride. – And we know everything. Well almost everything. We even know that this bastard was studying in China at a famous Master’s school. Wasn’t it yours by chance?

Lifunchuk snapped his chopsticks and caught a fly – this time firmly. The fly was moving it’s legs trying to get free. Lifunchuk looked at the fly threateningly, struggling with the temptation to crush it but then he let it fly. The lightning that flashed in his eyes died out.

- Power all over the world, - he said artificially coldly, - even Chingiz-khun failed to get it.
- These assholes don’t know who they have messed with, - Huyama said with self-confidence.
- You call vampires assholes? – Lifunchuk asked. – I have always thought they were the superior race. 
- Those are not the same vampires any more mister Li. Those vampires are their ancestors and were the embodiment of elegance. If you want to know I have nothing against them. However their descendents were degraded in the evolution process and now they are ordinary dull cattle. Deadly dangerous cattle
- So why don’t you finish with them? – Lifunchuk asked.
- It is not our business to do the world better, - Oyabun said. Prosecutors and militia are for that.
- And the Chinese intelligent service, - Lifunchuk said. – What you said gets me personally. I hope we will finish with all this together.
He held out his hand to Oyabun. Oyabun shook it with content airs.
- We have to save her immediately, - Huyama said.
And he hit the table with such a force that the glasses clanked on it. And than Oyabun looked at him very attentively. And Huyama shrank upon his look. Lifunchuk put his hand on Huyama’s shoulder.
- Don’t worry,- he said. Believe me, Galya can help herself, I taught her some tricks.
- First of all we have to take the enemy’s fortress, - Oyabun said.
- And where is this fortress? – Lifunchuk asked.
- This is a television tower on Melnikov street, - Oyabun said. He stretched his powerful shoulders and smiled widely – That is wonderful, - he said. – We give back a child to her happy father and make some money. A huge pile of money from our Indian father.
- And we save the world, - Lifunchuk said
- Communist idealism, - Oyabun said. – that is where the brainwashing leads to. By the way would you like to meet a real Indian Maharaja?
- I think we know each other already, - Lifunchuk said.
- Yes, I forgot some of your exercises. I don’t understand one thing – why did he like you so much? People of his rank do not usually pay attention to other people, - Oyabun said.
- His Dao chose me, - Lifunchuk said.
They got off the table and at this moment Hesse lover drank up a glass of vodka, stroke the book on the table and yelled:
- Machine-gun carts ahead! Father, chop the red bastards!!
- What Dao? – Tetyana pulled her face.  – It is just that a man lost his pipe and you found it.
The last thing we see is Tetyana's face close-up and medium shot of thoughtful faces of Lifunchuk, Oyabun and Huyama.

122. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. AFTERNOON.
 
Galya went down the television center corridor. A door with a door-plate “Silence! On the air!” drew her attention and Galya put her curious nose into the room. A black shadow flashed behind her and disappeared round the corner. Or it only seemed to us… Galya turned around but she saw nobody.

123. TELEVISION CENTER. “ANOTHER DIMENSION” PROGRAMME STUDIO. AFTERNOON.
The program “Another dimension” was being recorded. Vova and Adik were sitting on frail shining chairs. They were surrounded by a starry sky. Here and there cabalistic signs shone in the starry sky. Nostradamus was sitting cozily in one corner of the sky, in another corner there was a gentleman in a wig – either Kaliostro or count Sent-Germen. In the center between Vova and Adik there was Angela Kovbasuk the program hostess.
- Ladies and gentleman! This is “Another dimension” program and I am your hostess Albina Kovbasuk, - she was jabbering. – Today in our studio we are receiving guests mister Adolf Sverbipupenko and mister Vladimir Galushka, and they affirm they visited the other world. Tell us please, what is it like there?
- And don’t you know it yourself! – Adik breathed wheezing suspiciously. – Such tiled corridors, the light at the end of like a tube, the doors such solid…
- And the demons standing behind the door, in riza robes, - Vova added. – And as Adik and I dashed they flew fucking away.
- And for all that, - the hostess insisted saucily. – Would you tell us how you came back to life?
- And we did not come back, - Adik said. – And what is there to come back for? What have I lost there? Suffering? And why are you asking as if you didn’t know it yourself? What childish rubbish this is!
- Stop, what the fuck is this? – the director’s voice was heard. – Who brought these idiots into the studio?! Svieta!!
- What bullshit! – Galya said loudly. – And what do people only do?

And immediately some people in black – either ninja or TV camera-men, shooting in the “black cabinet”, plugged up her mouth and dragged her somewhere. She was fighting desperately. She even managed to break loose from their grip and knock down a couple of the assailants by several skillful kicks but they were too many. They tied up the girl, sealed  up her lips by adhesive tape and dragged her. On beating off she managed to remember the way intently. (close-up of the face).

124. CHRESHCHATIC. TOWER BUILDING. AFTERNOON.

A skyscraper dominated now opposite UNIAN agency on the spot of a “pulled out tooth” between two houses with a stupid advertisement on their walls. (computer graphics). Glass, concrete, high-tech…

A light box: «JAKUZA UA. INC.» occupied an immense part of the facade.


125. YAKUZA OFFICE. AFTERNOON.
 
Oyabun, Huyama, Lifunchuk and two other the most confidential Yakuza sat in Oyabun’s office before a huge computer. Television center plan shone on the monitor. The projection was shown on the large screen.

- How will we come in there? – Huyama asked.

Lifunchuk paced back and forth, smoking the pipe the way comrade Stalin used to do.

- Most probably they will bring her right here, - Oyabun said. – This is a secret room, nobody knows about it, even the veterans working there.

- They have brim-full of security there inside, - Huyama said with concerned airs. – I wouldn’t like to make a big fuss.
- I think I understand this country pretty well already, Lifunchuk said smiling, - and I know their weaknesses.
- The Chinese intelligent service, - Oyabun smiled.
- Every night they carry out a political talk-show there, - Lifunchuk said not paying attention to Oyabun’s words. – They like it. Generally people’s deputies come there. I don’t think they would be searched at the entrance.
- Sun Zi, - Oyabun said with admiration. – It is called “to destroy the enemy from inside”. “War art”, paragraph five, line eleven, - he even half-rose in delight.
- Everything we need is an old “zaporozhets”, - Lifunchuk said. – The one they are telling one another about in their stupid anecdotes.

126. TELEVISION CENTER. “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO. AFTERNOON.

Sosunovsky, Maharaja with his retinue, CAMERA MEN and TELEVISION HOSTS were crowding in the dark Armageddon studio. STUDIO WORKERS were finishing assembling the equipment. We do not see the whole room as the vista view of the studio is concealed till the «Grand finale». Only close-ups of some details are highlighted.

In the center a massive whacker shimmering with red and orange imitating a burning hot asteroid hung on a chain. Eduard Maistrenko, the channel art-director was showing the fruits of his imagination to his guests proudly:
- Come look here, sir, - Maistrenko was jumping around the studio, - here is a kind of meteorite, falling down to the earth, it is going down that slowly all the time, just so, and only the right answer hampers it a bit, and here it comes lower and lower as it touches the floor in the center and here – bang! – a pyrotechnic cartridge goes into action and everything is in smoke like at the end!
- What is he talking about? – Maharaja asked Sosunovsky.
- Mister Eduard says he wished everything would look like the real end of the world, - Sosunovsky said.
- Bang! – and it is over! – Maharaja said. And there will be nothing more. Even television. And when is this end of the world scheduled?
- For tonight, sir, - Sosunovsky answered.
- Well, it is not long we have yet to wait, - Maharaja said. – And now I would like to look through the papers.
- They are in the General Director’s office, - Sosunovsky said. – Where the hell is Vlad? – he asked Veresen’ in a whisper. The latter only waved his hands at a loss.

127. TELEVISION CENTER BUILDING. CUBAN ROOM. AFTERNOON.

Galya sat tied to a chair. She looked around. It was a dark room, padded with red velvet. Rusty pipes, parts of old sanitary engineering, brooms and pails were lying in the corner. Near a wall with a portrait of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara there was a massive table with a bronze ink-pot, an arm-chair and a national flag of Cuba. Everything was covered with dust. A small barred window under the ceiling lit up this weird place.

A black shadow slipped across the small window. A big black bird.
Galya heard a noise of wings behind her, she turned around… A big black raven was pacing in a small window, casting a sidelong look with its black eye, then he dove down, took a crap on the table under Fidel Castro portrait and sat on Galya’s shoulder stroking her by his beak tenderly.
- Is that you Vasya? – Galya said. – Vasya, you ought to be ashamed!

Vasya opened his beak and talked nonsense in Sanskrit excitedly – so that Galya only opened her mouth in sheer amazement, then he prinked, sat cozily and croaked.
- Vasya, - Galya said. – Be a good boy, untie the rope!
- Vasya is a good boy! – the raven said, approaching to the girl from behind, and beginning to peck and pull the rope which tied Galya’s hands.

He loosened the knot, Galya reached it with her fingers and unbound the rope, then she untied her legs, got up from the chair, stretched her neck, shoulders, knees, came up to the door, pulled it – in vain as it was locked firmly. She turned around looking for a way out. The raven skipped after her grandly croaking and jabbering in Sanskrit.

128. KYIV. STREET. DUSK.

A black Mercedes stopped at a road-crossing before traffic-lights. A hairy hand with a cigarette leaned out of the window of the Mercedes and at that very moment a small red Zaporozhets drove into its back. The crash was not that serious in general and caused only slight damage. Two hunks pale of fury got out of the Mercedes and imposingly and leisurely came up to the initiator of the incident.
- You got into a mess, asshole! – one of the hunks said to Lifunchuk who got out of the car smiling guiltily.
- I am sorry, guys! My fellow-sponsor and I are coming back from my mother’s in law, sloshed a bit, I looked aside at a girl, such a beautiful girl!
- You chink are gonna spit your blood now! – one of the hunks said coming nearer and immediately sat down on the pavement.
We almost didn’t notice anything, so quick and exact Lifunchuk’s movements were. A couple of point kicks and another hunk fell on the ground. A sleepy deputy’s pan showed out of the limousine window and said:
- Tolya are you comin’ yet?
Lifunchuk appeared near him immediately, pressed spots behind the deputy’s ears tenderly and put him into deep coma. Traffic-lights twinkled with green, Lifunchuk sat at the wheel and the Mercedes with a deputy pulled off smoothly. The Zaporozhets moved after it. Huyama was driving it already.
The Mercedes increased its distance and disappeared round the turn, and Huyama took a peeping walkie-talkie set, listened to valuable instructions (those were abrupt Japanese orders), said “Ho!”, after that the engine stopped at a crossroad, blocking the passage for another black Mercedes. Huyama got out of the car in concern, opened the hood and put his hands under it. Two hunks from the Mercedes were already approaching from behind. Huyama was turning his head anxiously, pulling his jogging pants and catching his falling slipper by his toe. He looked very much like a dried apricot street vender in this attire, and not at all like a terrible yakuza.
- Hey you yuck, – the owners of life said to him. – Roll away your clunker, is that clear?
- There is no spark in the motor, guys, - Huyama said as a ready-made victim.
The hunks came nearer and one of them even had time to say:
- Roll it away by your hands asshole! – he replied and he sat on the ground softly.
Another hunk rolled after him. Everything was done as in the first case, precisely and quickly. And Huyama was already sitting at the wheel of the Mercedes.
- What does it mean all that?! – a deputy on the front seat was indignant. – I am Verkhovna Rada deputy Peretiat’ko!
- I am Saburo Huyama, your new driver, - Huyama said after that he plunged the deputy into a deep sleep by a short kick. After that he took out the walkie-talkie set and said a few abrupt Japanese words into it. The Mercedes drove across the desert Lipky.

129. (JEEP). KYIV. STREET. EVENING

Oyabun put his walkie-talkie set into his pocket. He sat in a huge jeep, there was a driver next to him, and on the rear seat there was a guy with a cold samurai-looking face. The car was driving slowly along an enormous line. The line was coiling around a shop like a snake. Violent shouts were heard in its tail and in the middle of it but it was heated the most in its head.
- I haven’t seen the lines in this country for a long time I guess, - Oyabun said thoughtfully. –Kendzo! – he said sharply looking at the line.
- Ho! – the samurai sitting behind echoed.
- Find out what it all means, - Oyabun ordered.

The jeep broke down and Kendzo screwed into the line. He had not been there for long though he came back quite disheveled, his face was scratched and his jacket was torn. Kendzo held a pack of juice in his hands. He hardly had time to squeeze into the jeep as the car was surrounded by the mob. Awry frantic phizes. Someone even hit the car’s front screen with his fist. The jeep pushed its way through the crowd slowly and at this time Oyabun was watching the pack thoroughly. “Tomato Dracula juice” – the inscription on the pack read, prince Dracula winked joyfully in the upper left corner, he held a beaker full of the red liquid in his hand. The same character was portrayed on a billboard to the left of the road. Sparkling lightning was illuminating the energetic prince’s face. “Tomato Dracula” is the secret of real power!” – enormous letters said. To the right of the billboard with Dracula there was another one. It was of Mykola Veresen’ in a red shirt wrapped in tongues of infernal flame poking his finger into a man in the street sternly as a red army soldier on a famous placard: “Are you ready to save the world?” – was written on the billboard with fiery letters. And still further up it was also written: “Armageddon”, ‘You and I’ channel, Thursday, 21:00, and the figure $10 000 000 was stuck slantwise. They had almost passed it by when Oyabun said to the driver.
- Stop.

They stopped, Oyabun took a pack of juice from Kendzo, unscrewed the top, took a large gulp. His eyes rolled out, his mouth curved in a predatory grin. A red stream of juice flew down the corner of his mouth. Oyabun wheezed out, his companions shrank back frightened, Oyabun rolled his eyes-white and fumbled about with his hands.
- What is the matter with you sensei? – Kendzo asked scared.
- It would be good with salt, - Oyabun came to his sense flash-like and smiled satisfied by his joke. – Though this is not tomato juice.
- Then what is it, sensei? – Kendzo asked.
- Blood, - Oyabun said.

He was twisting a screw-top from the pack thoughtfully. On the reverse side there was a code with figures and letters. He looked at the bill-board with “Tomato Dracula” then at the screw-top again. The same was pictured on the bottom of the billboard. «Dial the code and save the world”, - the inscription on the bill-board said.
- At last, - Oyabun said. He looked at his watch. – Two hours, - he said thoughtfully. – Sometimes it is not enough to win a game of GO but quite enough to save the world.
And bending to the driver he ordered:
- Go!
Night images tinctured the sky over the Dnieper. The jeep rushed down the quay. Street lamps lit up.

130. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. AFTERNOON

Maharaja and Sosunovsky sat in the General Producer’s office. Selyodka was showing papers to Maharaja, bustling and fawning on him. Maharaja was looking through the documents, playing with his tiger cub, which was aggressive – it was growling at the Dracula portrait and trying to bite Selyodka’s buttocks.
- What a nice kitty you have, sir, - Selyodka was flattering, dodging his fangs. – Kitty-kitty, what is your name? Here it is, here are the treaties and that is everything on vessels…
- Calm down, Rajah, - Maharaja commanded the animal. He reined the tiger cub in and looked at Selyodka closely. – This is not a kitty, mister Selyodka, - he said with authority. – The tiger is the God of the jungle. One half of it is sun light and another is dark night. That’s why he feels both perfectly well and can tell one from the other.
He looked at Selyodka thoroughly once again and suddenly asked him:
- Why did the “Armageddon” program change its sponsor at the very last moment? Why did you break the contract with the mobile operator company? And where did this stupid juice come from?

Maharaja looked at his business partners sternly. Sosunovsky was covered with rose spots, Selyodka was wriggling like a grig, cracking a rodent skull from his habit and gabbling surprisingly enough:
- The program started to lose its rating sir, - he was jabbering. – It was necessary to update the format, and this juice – this is a real Klondike, sir, they promote their brand onto the market and they roll in money, they offered us such a lump sum that we paid forfeit to the mobile operator, introduced an interactive format and now we have frantic high ratings and all the country plays this game.
- Would you explain to me, - Maharaja said, -  the reasons for these impressive changes. – He smoked a cigar and looked out of the window.

131. TELEVISION CENTER COURTYARD. EVENING.

Two similar black Mercedes drove to the TV-center parking lot. TV girls were already running to them. Limousines’ doors opened synchronously, the feet in cream shoes with long turned up noses showed out of the cars.

132. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. EVENING.

- Now everyone may make ten million, sir, - Selyodka wheedled, - everyone, who bought the juice. They simply sweep it off the shops’ shelves. This is a cross-promotion, sir, it is very effective. There is a code on every juice pack screw-top, a viewer only dials a TV-studio number and then enters this code by telephone. The computer fixes all the participants and automatically carries out casting of lots. We raise good money on these calls too, sir.
- And what do they do with all this juice? – Maharaja asked.
- They drink it, sir, - Selyodka giggled joyfully, - drink! All the juice is taken during the program broadcasting; the hosts take care of this. Tomato juice is very good for one’s health, sir.

Selyodka was giggling disgustingly, rubbing his hands, jumping before Maharaja:
- And now I would ask you very much to excuse me sir, I have urgent business to do. Albert Mykolaevych will show you your office.

And Selyodka disappeared. Maharaja was puffing smoke of his cigar out of the window.

133. TELEVISION CENTER COURTYARD. EVENING.
In TV-center court Lifunchuk and Huyama went out of the Mercedes and directed to the door imposingly. They both were dressed in people’s deputies “armours”: light trousers, shirts with short sleeves, ties and dreadful cream-colored holed shoes with turned up noses. The faces of both of them expressed concern for people’s prosperity and some kind of laid-back thoughtfulness. Each of them pressed a wheat ear carefully to his breast.

134. TELEVISION CENTER BUILDING. CUBAN ROOM. AFTERNOON. 

Galya was examining her prison closely. She found a steel tube, and trashed the lock with it – in vain for sure.
- Bullshit. Just like a shit movie, – Galya said. – A prince charming will come right now to rescue me. Aha.
She said that and hurled the tube into the door.
- That prince needs me like a hole in the head, yeah... Who am I really?
Having thrown the tube away to the corner she gave a little cry.
- Vampires, - she said. – A movie. Who am I? Who am I?! – she cried.
The raven skipped near her, looked aside with a wily eye, jabbered in Sanskrit. Then he croaked, cleared his throat and said quite audibly in Ukrainian though with an oriental accent:
- You are princess Parvathi, a goddess born by mortal people, daughter of princess Lukshmi and Maharaja of Bharatpur Brajrajkalamatras, the one who appears among people once in ten thousand years. I am Sarasvati, the chief of Magicians-oppressors saying this to you, let my despicable tongue never lie.
- What bullshit, - Galia said.-  Bullshit. And you Vasya is the same. I thought you are the only clever guy here at least. But you are a dummy, Vasya, too. 
- Vasya is a cutie, - Vasya said without any oriental howling and even with a hint of a Poltava dialect.

Wind with rain rose up suddenly outside and even carried in a few bats through a small window.

135. TELEVISION CENTER POST CONTROL. EVENING. 

Lifunchuk and Huyama came up to the TV-center check-point. Two militia-men in body-armour were guarding the entrance.

- Your pass, - one of them said uncertainly.
- These are our guests! – a TV-girl sent to meet the honorable guests squeaked.
- Verkhovna Rada Deputy Peretiat’ko, - Huyama said in an arrogant way passing the cop.
- Verkhovna Rada Deputy Salo, - Lifunchuk repeated his trick.

The cops saluted the “deputies” subserviently and two heroes followed by a fussy TV-girl started to climb up the wide stair-way leading to the elevators. Vova and Adik who had been kicked out of the “Fifth Dimension” program were going down the same stair-way. Vova carried Kant and Bertrand Russel, Adik pressed the Tibetan “Book of the Dead” to his breast carefully. Suddenly they saw both their torturers in people’s Deputy’s suits. The torturers were coming with grins clasping ears to their bosom.
- The demons I say, - Adik said to Vova. His face grew pale, his eyes rolled out, he was scared.
- I see, don’t you chicken bro, - Vova said who felt ill at ease too. – See how they are disguised, they thought we would not recognize them.
They were approaching closer and closer to the fake Deputies who did not pay any attention to them.
- Bro, - Adik said to Vova, - say “Om mani pudme hum”.
- What kind of trick is that? – Vova asked quickly, starting to sweat under his arms.
- It is the spell, it frightens the demons away I say, - Adik said.

And so they posed as Buddhists and while the fake Deputies were walking upstairs imposingly Vova and Adik went on muttering Buddhist spells:
- Îìììììììì! – Vova snuffled.
- Îìììììììì! – Adik echoed.
- Those are our guys, - Huyama whispered to Lifunchuk.
- There are some bats in their belfry or what? – Lifunchuk pointed at his head.
- This is my fault, - Huyama said. – I gave a sharp blow to them once.
- And why? – Lifunchuk was curious.
- They did not know the rhymes, - Huyama shrugged his shoulders.
- They happen to have got a bit from me too, - Lifunchuk said.
Led by a fussy TV-girl they walked past the “Armageddon” studio.
- How much time do we have? – Huyama asked.
- Several minutes, the program is about to start, - Lifunchuk said.
They let the girl who was talking nonstop go forward and disappeared in the corridor.


136. TELEVISION CENTER. SELYODKA’S OFFICE. EVENING.
 
Selyodka was getting dressed while looking in the mirror. He put on his black dinner jacket with a bow-tie and a black coat with a crimson lining, gave a wink at the portrait.
- What is it all for? – asked Matilda. – Go and kill her right now!
- It is a tradition, - Selyodka shrugged his shoulders. – First, there is a dress-code. When you drink live blood of a goddess at night – what form is that? This is a «black tie». And secondly I must look well before the camera. 

- Are you gonna do it at live broadcast? - Matilda asked.

- Only this way, my honey. Otherwise it does not have any sense. Or tell me what the television exists for in the world?

He winked at Dracula again and took a curved dagger from the wall with swords.
- The gourks’ knife, - he said. – The gourks are coming, don’t take any prisoners!
He smiled in such a way that his big yellow fangs were shown
- The time has come, - he said and he and Matilda flew out of his office.
Wind arose in the office, coming through the open window, Dracula’s eyes flashed with green flames.


137. TELEVISION CENTER. MAHARAJA STUDY. EVENING.

Maharaja, Charles and Sosunovsky were viewing Maharaja’s office – as luxurious as a vulgar room in pseudo oriental style.
- We have made this office for you in advance, sir, to make you feel at home, - Sosunovsky was fawning.
- What would you say, Mister Charles? – Maharaja asked.
- It is like a Hollywood film studio for shooting a movie about Sinbad, sir, - Charles said calmly.

He opened another patterned door and went in a rest-room. On an exuberant sofa Oyabun sat and smoked a hookah pipe. His dark silhouette in the contrasting light was clouded by smoke.

- Who are you?! – Sosunovsky squealed. He even tried to scream –Guards!!!
- I was waiting for you, my Lord, - Oyabun said, speaking to Maharaja and not paying any attention at Sosunovsky.
He got up from the sofa and bowed to Maharaja in a ceremonious Japanese manner.
- Who are you? – Maharaja asked.
- I am Oyabun of Ukrainian yakuza, - Oyabun said simply, - and I have to tell you something. I am sure it will be of interest to you.
- How did you get here?! – Sosunovsky went on raging.
- There is nothing impossible for us, mister Sosunovsky, - Oyabun said with authority. – Order them to get out, my Lord, I have to talk to you one to one.
He looked at his watch.
- We are short of time, sir, - he said, - the mission has already begun.
- What mission, what the holy shit?! – Sosunovsky cried.
- The mission of saving the world, mister, - Oyabun specified.

And at that moment a shot rang out.


138. TELEVISION CENTER CORRIDOR. EVENING

Bang, bang! – Lifunchuk and Huyama made their way by going professional kicks in TV-center labyrinths. Their adversaries were people in black and common militiamen and were fighting bravely using fire and cold weapons and different subjects available at hand.
- An attack at the TV-center! – a security cop shouted into a receiver, soffits were falling with desultory fire, broken windows, smashed furniture…
Lifunchuk and Huyama managed to break away from their pursuers for a short instance; they looked around, checked out the map and ran down the corridor with confidence.

139. TELEVISION CENTER. MAHARAJA STUDY. EVENING.

- Now you know everything, - Oyabun said to Maharaja, - except for the main thing. These bastards need her to turn alive all this dead shit, hidden for centuries in the cellars of an old murderer and which they imported into Ukraine by smuggling. Without her all this blood is dead and worth nothing.
- What will happen to my daughter? -  Maharaja asked anxiously.
- They will kill her to use her power, - Oyabun said. – Most likely they will suck her blood - well you know all these tricks of theirs. And after that people they turned into zombies will drink all that muck (dung) right in front of their TV-sets.
- And they will become vampires, - said Mister Charles who got bored standing in the corridor.
- You are right, mister Charles, - Oyabun said, - they want all the world to be like them, to drink peoples’ blood, watch their stupid soap-operas and talk shows, and instead of for instance deep meditation or archery they would devour chips and watch TV.
- So why are we lingering?! – Maharaja asked. He snatched out his yataghan and held a huge “Magnum” in another hand, his moustache bristled threateningly.
- I guess my guys will arrange it without you, - Oyabun said.

Screams, sounds of punches and desultory fire were heard from somewhere below.

140. TELEVISION CENTER. CORRIDOR. EVENING. 

Selyodka and Matilda flew down the corridor. Some dark shadows spread after them. They were either TV camera-men or ninjas.

141. “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO. EVENING.

“Armageddon” program studio was covered with black velvet trimming, a horribly looking dreadful asteroid hung from above playing crimson and orange fire and red chairs arranged at amphitheatre were blazing like in hell.

The cameramen dressed in black stiffened at their cameras and cranes. In the center of a small round arena, right under the asteroid against the background at which a dark sinister sky with bloody clouds was projected Mycola Veresen’ was frolicking.

Parallel cut. From “Armageddon” studio it goes back to the village shop of Kramarenky farmstead and back to the studio. Thus we can see the events in television center either live or at a small screen of an old scruffy TV-set. In addition to the scenes in the village shop the advertisement, scenes in the television center corridor and in the apparatus room are put in “Armageddon” scene by the parallel cut.
In the studio the “Armageddon” program was on the air:
- This is the game show “Armageddon” and I am its host Mykola Veresen’, - Mykola Veresen’ said into the microphone. – Everyone of you may save the world and gain ten thousand dollars just now!! Every moment the asteroid over my head is approaching the Earth and only the correct answer to a question will stop it! I reminding you of our rules: to take part in the game you should call the number ¹ 333000666, and use the hints on the code written on the back side of the screw-top of every juice pack of our wonderful sponsor “Tomato Dracula”! So save the world and get rich! And don’t forget: the more codes – the more chances! And now advertisement (a word from our sponsors)!

142. TRANSYLVANIA. FOREST. NIGHT.

Advertising cut-in, ad video:

Dynamic close-ups and medium shots: horses’ hooves slapped in the dirt heavily, black wet mane was flying, a violet eye looked askew madly, the rider’s spurs left bloody tracks on the croup, a black cloak flew at the wind, branches of the trees hit Dracula’s face, the prince in a black coat, chain armor, with an upright mustache rushed on a black horse across the dark forest through the rain and wind. The shimmering light of a roadside tavern flashed dimly behind the trees’ branches. The prince dismounted and went into the tavern with a crash.
- I am thirsty! (Drink!) – the prince wheezed dreadfully to a frightened tavern-keeper.
- What would Your Excellency wish at such a late hour? – the tavern-keeper was fawning.
- I wish red! – the prince said and roared with Satanic laughter.
And an attractive girl in a national apron brought a wine-glass to him, and the prince drank and smiled, and the red liquid tinctured his fangs.
- “Tomato Dracula” is the secret of real power! – the voice off-screen thundered dreadfully and lightning that crashed through the open door confirmed his words.

143. “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO. EVENING.

The asteroid was swaying threateningly above Veresen’s head. Mykola rose his head, looked at it with caution, stepped aside and said:

- Well, it is “You and I” channel again, my name is Mykola Veresen’. Every moment the asteroid over my head approaches to the Earth. A correct answer to a question stops it for 30 seconds. But only correct answers to all questions can stop it for good and all.

144. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. VILLAGE SHOP. EVENING.

A TV-set behind a trade counter was on, there were some tables in the room, the men familiar to us sat there, they were drinking vodka, having snacks and watching “Armageddon” program. SVETA THE SALESWOMAN was briskly selling vampire’s tomato juice. Mykola Veresen’ in TV-set said:

- Well, if only one question does not get the answer, the asteroid will blow up. And all of us will bite the dust and in this case as you understand no money matter no more. So, attention please, first question costs a hundred thousand dollars!

- Borys Petrovych, what if he asked what colour your briefs are? – Sasha the Gas asked the robust old man.
- Hah, every dairymaid knows that, doesn’t she, uncle Borya? – said Zhora the Sex Mashine.

- What colour was the horse of that rider of Apocalypse who holds the sword?! – Veresen’ shouted sternly from TV-set screen – you have 30 seconds to reply.

- Borys Petrovych, you blabbered to everyone that you read the Scriptures, - Sasha the Gas pulled at the old man, - this question must be a piece of cake for you!

- Leave me alone, - the old man said.
- Twenty, nineteen, - Veresen’ counted down implacably...
- Chestnut, - said Borys Petrovych, drained a glass of vodka with sniffing his sleeve.
- Svetka, pass me the juice here, Zhora call ‘em now fuck you! – said Sasha the Gas.
- I don’t remember the number, - said Zhora on looking at his mobile with a stupid air.
- That’s it, - said Sasha, - one would become a damned millionaire like hell with you assholes.
- The correct answer is “Chestnut!” – said Veresen’ in TV-set. – We congratulate our prize-winner! It is Zhanna Tyagnyryadno from Verhnya Pyrlovka village of Kirovograd region!
- Aren’t you assholes , - Sasha the Gas drained a glass of vodka in one gulp, - it is through your fault that some whores will get all the money again.


145.  “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO. EVENING.

In “Armageddon” studio the asteroid was swinging threateningly.

- Stop for 30 seconds, - shouted Veresen’, - So the second question is for five hundred thousand dollars!

Selyodka and Matilda appeared near Veresen’ suddenly. Selyodka’s canines glittered, his black cloak with crimson lining and Matilda’s red dress were stirred by the wind blowing in the studio god knows from where.
The witch turned slightly virescent with putrid green, and her eyes grew yellow like lager beer.   

- What kind of cocktail do I prefer this time of day? – Selyodka asked and Matilda roared with laughter in a filthy way.

- Vlad, - Veresen’ said in a whisper, - it is not funny, apparatus room, what’s going on?

EXTRAS got up from their arm-chairs, a nervous ASSISTANT DIRECTOR was running across the studio slantwise, but Matilda knocked her down with a skillful back heel and she went go sprawling right under the asteroid which began to move again.

- 500 thousand dollars for a simple question, - said Selyodka, - are you that stupid that no one of you needs money?

He posed under the asteroid above the thrown down assistant director and uttered:

- A victim to the studio!

Selyodka snapped his fingers. The witch took off her red shoe with a spike heel and hurled it to the wall where the thunder sky was projected. The spike heel plunged into the wall like a missile. Cracks crawled down the wall radially extending… Another moment later the wall collapsed with a crash (slow motion).

146. “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO – CUBAN ROOM. EVENING.(CONT.)

Galya appeared in the cloud of dust. She looked over the studio in embarrassment. The Cuban interior was pulling down behind her. Fidel and Che portraits were flying in the dust. After a second of confusion she… stepped to the very middle with an impudent step of a model, put her arms akimbo and smiled victoriously. Vasya the raven sat on her shoulder.

Selyodka seized Galya’s hand already and dragged her into the round arena right under the asteroid. Vasya left Galya’s shoulder, flew up and sat on the asteroid. He was staying there, flapping his wings, croaking, crapping and jabbering some abracadabra in Sanskrit.

147. APPARATUS ROOM OF “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO. EVENING.

The “Armageddon” program director  was already giving some dreadful signs behind the glass and shouted “Advertisement Break! Advertisement!”  A straight shot into his head interrupted his shouts; the director slipped down onto the floor, Matilda shook her hand, blew on her forefinger and pressed the button on the audio mixer (close-up of the button). 

Argentinean  tango began to play.

148.  “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO – CUBAN ROOM. EVENING. (CONT.)

- Tango of death, - Selyodka said.

He turned Galya and he seated her down first on his right thigh then on his left one. They danced several classical steps:  ocho, gancho, barrida. Their dance seemed just brilliant.

- A common village girl, - said Selyodka. – That makes me laugh to death...

He put her on his thigh, bent to her throat and bared his canines…

- Well that beats all, - exclaimed Galya, - you are a real vampire indeed! 
 
Somewhere next to the wall some kicks and damped shouts were heard.

149. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. VILLAGE SHOP. EVENING.

Borys Petrovych, Sasha the Gas, Zhora the Sex Machine and Sveta a saleswoman were sitting in a village shop, staring in the box and drinking tomato juice. Something moronic, scaring appeared in their mugs... 

150. TELEVISION CENTER CORRIDOR. EVENING.

Huyama and Lifunchuk ran down the corridor, beating off the people in black uniforms (CAMERAMEN-NINJAS).

151. “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO – CUBAN ROOM. EVENING.

Selyodka slammed his jaws with a slight regret and threw Galya aside, she revolved like a spinning top and landed on her knee as pretty as a picture. Selyodka jumped smartly, the tango went on...

152. TELEVISION CENTER CORRIDOR. EVENING.

Huyama and Lifunchuk appeared at the door of the Cuban room. Lifunchuk rendered the lock harmless with a help of liquid nitrogen. Huyama knocked the door out with his fist; the door fell down (a punch through the door, slow motion). He had at the same time to trash the door and the persecutors getting from behind...

153. “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO – CUBAN ROOM. EVENING.

Selyodka flung Galya over his thigh and pressed himself against her throat. This time he did it thoroughly. His mouth was distorted in a savage grin…


154. “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO – CUBAN ROOM. EVENING.(CONT.)

Lifunchuk, Huyama and people in black rushed into the studio. They found themselves on the improvised stage, a former secret room of the television center where perplexed Galya stood recently.

- Leave the girl in peace, - Lifunchuk said to Selyodka. – You are a soldier and not a maniac. Dance with me better.
 
- What the fuck are you? - asked Selyodka.

- My old man called us stupid oafishly assholes when he was out of humor, - Lifunchuk replied with a grin. – Maybe I am one of them.

- So the old fart did not become senile yet, did he? – Selyodka remarked. – I thought your red guards beat the rest of brains out of his head… – and he started giggling disgustingly.
 
During the dialogue Lifunchuk and Huyama were beating off the spontaneous attacks of people in black with relaxed accurate kicks. Those broken down ones were crawling in the dust, lied unconscious...

Selyodka threw Galya away, black cameramen seized her but she quickly sorted it out, she beat a hunk standing behind her with her elbow, and keeping rotating she cut off another one with her foot kick in his jaw. And while Huyama hurried to rescue her like a bulldozer she jumped and struck an excellent kick into Huyama’s groin by her foot not having understood what it was all about in the heat of the battle. Huyama crashed down onto the floor…
 
Galya recognized him and understood her mistake but she had no time for reflection, as the black people advanced from all sides. The extras jumped from their chairs, someone already hurled a fiery chair into a black cameraman.

The “village moron” already known to us observed the fight cold-bloodedly, evading the kicks skillfully (highlighting). A small Chinese monkey (Galya’s amulet) rolled to his feet. The moron picked it up and examined it thoughtfully…

The assistant director who came to her senses jumped to Veresen’ asking: “Mykola, at least you do something!”

- Leave me alone, - said Veresen’ with a wandering smile, - don’t you see we are at a discotheque!

Matilda tossed her another shoe into Lifunchuk but she missed him and struck Cassandra. The shoe got stuck in Cassandra’s tall chignon of 60-s..

- Oh you boys and girls… - Cassandra stated sadly, she pulled the shoe out of her head and hurled it into a black cameraman running by her inopportunely.

And Lifunchuk made his way to Selyodka through the throng at last.
- How about a dance? – asked Selyodka.

He threw off his cloak that was hampering him and rained battering down Lifunchuk, his feet, hands and knife were in a dangerous proximity from him. Lifunchuk did not expect such pressure and he stepped back, one of the knife stabs wounded his shoulder.

- Did you get tired? – asked Lifunchuk.

Lifunchuk deftly threw off his tie of a people’s deputy deftly, made a drawing away trick and then lashed the hand with the knife by his tie. The knife flew aside and pierced into an eye of one of the guys who was coming to his senses and who set out to steal from behind to Lifunchuk with a steel tube. Selyodka moved back (slow motion). Lifunchuk’s hand which was about to strike a shattering final blow. Just then the witch Matilda who had snuck up to him, spit on Lifunchuk’s arm - exactly onto the cut spot and Lifunchuk’s arm drooped down feebly, just several inches from its target.
Matilda’s diabolical laughter frightened away the raven Vasya who was providently hiding during the battle under the ceiling. Then he was drifting above the battlefield, croaking and defecating all the time. Selyodka grew bold and attacked. Lifunchuk evaded the upper kicks going down, hacked Selyodka with an “iron broom” kick though Selyodka dodged it, turned a somersault, snatched the knife out of the eye of a hunk on the ground and attacked Lifunchuk from the side so as he would not manage to use his infirm arm. Lifunchuk dodged but the hand with a knife was flitting nearer and nearer. Lifunchuk failed to beat off a powerful blow into his face, he fell down and at that moment Selyodka threw the knife into his throat. However Galya was swifter than him – she had time to jump up to Lifunchuk and blow on his arm at the very moment when the knife was flowing up to its target inevitably. Lifunchuk grasped the knife at the very last moment, mechanically – like he once caught a pipe fallen from the sky. He shot up from lying in an inconceivable way and cast a deadly blow on Selyodka’s jaw with his foot. And Selyodka crashed down.

155. “ARMAGEDDON” STUDIO – CUBAN ROOM. EVENING.(CONT.)

And Oyabun together with Maharaja and Charles burst into the studio already.

- I congratulate you, mister, - Oyabun said to prostrate Selyodka. – Your program got excellent ratings. Though would you confide in me frankly – where did you get that muck from the juice packs, in a slaughter-house indeed? I could not spit it out till now.
- You cattle, - Selyodka said with dignity. – This is noble people’s blood from the Prince’s cellars.
Selyodka bared his teeth and tried to bite Oyabun’s leg, but he kicked him aside. Selyodka shrank then straightened up like a spring and rushed on Oyabun. Though Lifunchuk was faster and hit him with a short slack blow on the bridge of his nose, Selyodka fell down flat on his back.

- You needn’t have killed him, - Oyabun said with disgust, - we would have put him in a cage and sold him to the Zoo.
- He won’t die, - Lifunchuk said. – that was a water and wind blow.
- Aha, mysticism? – Oyabun smiled maliciously. And what did Marks and Engels write about it? To say nothing of President Mao. By the way, I must apologize to you, Master…
- My name is Lifunchuk, - Lifunchuk said.
- …Master Lifunchuk, - Oyabun said. – I want to apologize to you for Communist idealism and brain washing. I was wrong.
- That is nothing, - Lifunchuk said. – When a person gets a water and wind blow, he will be afraid of these both these things all his life.
- Water and wind are life, - Oyabun said..
- Yes, - Lifunchuk said. – he will be afraid of life. It is worse than death.

They looked at Selyodka. He rolled himself into a ball on the dirty floor and was looking frightened as a persecuted dog.
The moron reached out the monkey-amulet to Galya.

- Didn’t you lose it, the princess? – he asked with servility.

- Ouch, - said Galya and she pinched herself on her neck. – Vitasik, you are here as well, just look! - She took the amulet and put it into her pocket.

Vitacik grinned modestly.

- A madhouse, - said Galya. A sheer madhouse I say.

 Matilda hissed and tried to sink into Galya’s throat.

- Oh, mama, who made you up like this? – Galya asked on moving back from her. Yellow-eyed and turned green Matilda being dumb-founded of the question pulled out her mirror and … at this moment Vasya the raven swooped down and crapped on her head. Maharaja waved his yataghan…
- Just a moment, sir, - Oyabun said, you must not spoil a precious blade with witch’s blood. You will never be able to clean it.
- Mister Oyabun is right, - Charles said. – uncle Spencer who ran away to Congo gorillas from aunt Jane always used to tell me and my cousin George that all women are witches.   
- Except the one, - Oyabun said to Maharaja, - your daughter, sir. – and he pointed out at Galya.
- Parvathi, - Maharaja said.

Huyama’s groan was heard from under the wreckage. Huyama got up from the remains holding his groin with both his hands.
- If your daughter is not a witch, sir, then I am not a samurai any longer, - he said gloomily.
- What’s up? – Maharaja frowned.
- I will never forget that kick, miss Galia-san, - Huyama said with a ceremonious bow. – No man unless he is a Demon and no woman unless she is a witch are capable of it.
And then Galya went up to Huyama, blew down on his groin and kissed his cheek and the iron samurai staggered.
- Huyama is a good boy, - the raven Vasya said.
- Parvathi, - Maharaja wheezed out.
- Father? – Galia said. – So it is all true? Everything this silly crow was saying – is truth? Father?
She came up to her father and felt him all over with her hands.
- You are so handsome, father, - she said simply.
- Lakshmi, - Maharaja whispered and a lonely tear ran fast down his cheek onto his beard.
- On peering at the lips that calling
As sparklers draw of laughing nights
To carve in memory the features
That later to the tunes will spout, - Lifunchuk said.
      
- Those hazy shadows are night flowers
The lonely souls of whitewashed trees
Get to the Moon they are aspiring
Though wind will never blow them free - Oyabun continued with the lines of his beloved poet. – So you are a connoisseur of poetry, mister Lee? Chinese intelligent service studies Antonych rhymes indeed?
Lifunchuk grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
- All in all we Chinese taught poetry to you the Japanese, - Lifunchuk said.
- By the way my name is Kurilenko, - Oyabun said. – Grytsko Kurilenko.

156. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. VILLAGE SHOP. EVENING.

And Oyabun smiled charmingly baring his first-rate teeth.

We saw that on the television screen. Borys Petrovych, Sasha the Gas, Zhora the Sex Machine and Sveta the saleswoman were staring in the box. Sveta was crying sweetly, Borys Petrovych secretly wiped his falling reserved tear, Sasha the Gas spitted into the glass with the juice remains and threw out the package through the open door.

- Pour out, Zhorka, - said he, - Fuck we nearly became vampires!

Zhora the Sex Machine poured some vodka into the dirty glasses and summed up to the point:

- Let’s drink for this! And why are you crying, stupid cow? – Zhora asked Sveta.

- You men… What do you understand really? – said Sveta in tears.

157. “HATT” HOTEL. HALL. AFTERNOON.

Maharaja smoked his cigar in the hall of the Kyiv hotel “Hyatt” among palm-trees, rhododendrons and roses. A misted bottle of campaign stuck out of a pot with ice. Lifunchuk and Oyabun appeared in the door-way. Lifunchuk was dressed in a traditional Chinese suit: a jacket with a stand-up collar with lace and broad trousers. A stand-up collar and the front of a Chinese jacket were ornamented with Ukrainian embroidery. Oyabun was dressed in traditional hakama with a sleeveless loose jacket haori. Under haori a white embroidered Ukrainian shirt was seen. Both of them were armed: Oyabun had a katana and vakidzashi and Lifunchuk had a “dao” sabre. Both of them were wrapped in Ukrainian ethnic towels over their shoulders.
- You have a girl, we have a prince-hunter, - Oyabun muttered. – We walked through the forest to your yard looking for prey – a pretty girl. Didn’t she run into your house?
- What is this? – Maharaja got interested. – “Kabuki” theatre? How is it called?
- That is called – we are proposing a husband to your daughter, sir, - Oyabun said switching into English, - and mister Li and I are the matchmakers.
- And who is the pretender? – Maharaja asked frowning.
- It is your daughter, sir, - Oyabun said getting slightly nervous. – Yesterday she touched Saburo Huyama with her foot a little, so that he still cannot forget about it. For the first time invincible Saburo was knocked down by a woman. Now according to our law he has to make seppuku to himself. If only…
- Only what?! – Maharaja asked sternly.
- If he marries your daughter he will not have to do it.
- Why? – Maharaja asked.
- According to the laws of this country a wife may beat her husband when she wants to and this is not considered a disgrace for a husband. Huyama is my best samurai, I would be sorry to lose him, - Oyabun said shortly.
- And does he love her? – Maharaja asked.
- He lost his mind completely, sir, - Oyabun said. – He said if you refuse him, seppuku will be a piece of luck for him.
- This is blackmail, - Maharaja said. – My daughter is a Goddess. Do you want me to marry my daughter to a common samurai?
- Your Galya is the apple of your eye, of course, - Oyabun said, - though Huyama is not a common samurai either. His family is famous in Japan. His forefathers were princes – liegemen of the Takeda clan.
- Parvathi, - Maharaja called.
Galya came in dressed in splendid sari, covered with jewels and with a Brahma spot on her forehead.
- Father, - Galya said.
- You know these gentlemen, - Maharaja said, - they came to propose to you.
- Did Saburo send you? – Galya asked smiling.
- Yes, - Oyabun said. – He loves you passionately Your Highness. And he also said that he cannot forget your kick, miss.
- «Sparrow’s jump» it is called, - Lifunchuk said decently.
- Poor Saburo, - Galia said. – What a silly girl I was.
- You did everything right, - Lifunchuk said. – I am honored to have such a student.
- You are a Goddess, - Maharaja said, - not saying that you are my daughter. And you could find yourself…
- A God? – Galya asked. – And how long am I to wait for him, do you suppose? You said yourself, Father that such a girl like me appears once every ten thousand years. So all the girls will get married and I should remain an old maid (a spinster) waiting for a God as a stupid block head? Did you, Father, prepare such a destiny for your dear little daughter?

She said that putting her arms akimbo as Odarka in “Zaporozhets over Danube” opera. Maharaja did not expect such a rush.
- Do you love him at least? – he asked.
- Saburo took the risk to rescue me, - Galya said. – I wish I had such a husband.
- But love is… - Maharaja tried to put in.
- You’d better shut up, Father, - Galya said sternly. – What do you know about it? And altogether what a brothel you arranged here – no place to set a foot, everywhere all these houries of yours, all around, it’s a pity my mother is not here, she’d have taught you a lesson! (she’d showed you!)

Maharaja shrank from these reproaches. He bent his head down and shook his cigar’s ashes into champagne absent-mindedly.

- A Ukrainian girl, - Lifunchuk whispered to Oyabun. – She is Parvathi in the same way as you are Japanese, mister Kurilenko.
Oyabun grinned.

- Father, - Galya said. - why are you lounging? Put out the wedding towels, invite the matchmakers into the house.

And then Maharaja clapped his hands. And Indian whores started to put precious cloth under the matchmakers feet. And Lifunchuk and Oyabun stroke a bargain... 
158.  “HYATT” HOTEL. PRESIDENTIAL SUITE OF MAHARAJA. AFTERNOON.

The master and the guests stalked along into a huge presidential suite of Maharaja, where he was staying together with his daughter. Galya ran to her room to change her dress. She was hovering in front of the mirror, trying on her duds, pulling displeased faces.

Her slender figure reflected in a mirror as a silhouette, some details of luxurious interior glittered behind her. A narrow strip of light flashed suddenly from behind. Galya turned back, the light was burning out from the half-open door to the bath-room. The sounds of running water were coming from there also.

Galya stole to the bath-room, half opened the door… Sounds of running water, a silhouette behind a half-transparent folding screen. Galya drew off the screen fold decisively. A well-built naked fellow stood his back to her and soaped his armpits. He turned back slowly… And… Galya recognized a country moron.

- Vitacik? How did you get to be here?

The moron let the soap fall down in this very important moment. He bent down to pick it up. When he drew himself up, he appeared to be a beautiful tanned fellow with snake-like eyes and a wicked smile. Any moron traces vanished away. A small Chinese monkey on a leather lace hang on his neck.

- Hello, sister, - he said on straighten up with all his stature and feeling shy not in the least. Galya moved backwards, snapping at her amulet absent-mindedly.
The moron wiped himself dry in free and easy manner and wrapping himself in the towel walked to the hall. 

- All this time I did not know who I am, just like you did not, - the moron said.

He was walking about the room without embarrassment, unconstrained , poured some whiskey to himself, smelled the flowers, picked out his sharp teeth with a nail file.
- Till I saw this thing on your neck, - he pointed out to the amulet. - You learned to trash the men skillfully, dear sister, and you like it, just admit it!
- Who are you? – Galya said in a hoarse voice .
- Well, you know who you are already. And as we are only two like this, it is not difficult to guess, who I am.
- I can’t understand anything, - Galya said, - are you…
- I am your brother, Vitacik the moron, - the moron said, - the eyes and ears of this asshole Selyodka.
- And how did you… Galya tried to ask.
- This is not interesting. Don’t you really understand who I am?

He straighten up with all his stature and threw away his towel. Galya jumped off to the window. She opened her mouth in order to scream, but the moron shook his head and put his finger to his lips, and she kept standing with her mouth open.

- You are reasonable, sister, and you are not going to do bullshit. Everything has its backing. Light-darkness, hot-cold.  Let’s take you as an example – you are a goddess of life, and me…
- … a Demon of death, - Galya said hoarsely.
- I like it more when they call me a God, - the moron said and he burnt a hole in white roses bucket with his look.
- I heard you are getting married, - he said.

- It is not your business, ‘brother”, - Galya made a spiteful remark.

- It is more than mine, - the moron replied. –Don’t you realize that we are only parts of the whole when being separated and together we are the lords of life and death! Your marriage with this Japanese blockhead is worse than a mistake.
- It is not you to decide on this, you asshole, you forgot who I am, - Galya said on putting her arms akimbo, but magic of this gesture did not take effect on the moron.
- Keep your tricks for your husband dear sister and think my words over. And we could have wonderful children… - he said having cast at her his look full of lust.

- Parvathy! – Maharaja called her from the next room.

- See you, - said the moron and winked at Galya.  Then he speeded up as a track and field athlete, leaped over the open window and disappeared in the space with the roar of a supersonic fighter.
 

159. “HYATT” HOTEL. PRESIDENTIAL SUITE OF MAHARAJA. AFTERNOON.(CONT.)

The inversion jet, melting in the sky was all Maharaja saw when coming in.

- What the fuck are they flying? Got crazy or what? Scampering around like flies over a hip of shit. This is a city all the same… - Maharaja remarked.

- This is a parade rehearsal, - Galya replied barring a burnt over bunch of flowers with her body. – Tomorrow is our Independence Day.

They were standing at an open window a father and a daughter – two silhouettes against a background of a sunset sky. A magnificent view of beautiful evening Kyiv was spread below them.

160. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. EARLY MORNING.
  A ramshackle bus stopped at a tumbledown station. The hot midday sun flooded a small village square and in addition to a bus-station there were some dusty locust trees surrounding a small building with the signs “Karasin” and “Magazin” standing on the hill, some bicycles were lying in the dust in front of the open door. At some distance a telegraph pole with a loud-speaker was seen. An old Chinese Chen got out of the bus, he was dressed in a traditional Chinese jacket, trousers and shoes and with a knapsack on his shoulder he was the exact copy of a great Teacher from kung-fu movies. Music was wafting from afar. It was possible to distinctly hear cymbals, fiddles, trumpets and drums. It was a kind of music which is usually played at weddings in Ukraine – though Indian tunes entwined with it from time to time. A loud-speaker on the pole gave a cough and the Ukrainian hymn played.
- By decree of the President of Ukraine – the loud-speaker proclaimed hoarsely and the voice well known all over Ukraine pronounced:
- In connection with the takeover of national TV-channels by a gang of international criminals whose aim is to illegally turn the Ukrainian citizens into zombies and to make vampires of the people of our country I the President of Ukraine order. First, that all TV-channels must stop broadcasting today, at twelve o’clock sharp. Second, that all activity of all the TV-channels of Ukraine and also foreign channels which have license in the territory of Ukraine will be stopped till the competent bodies clear up all the circumstances. Third, that all TV frequencies, which are used by television are transmitted to the air-companies “Bell” and “Sicorsky” for developing helicopter aviation in Ukraine. It is the President of Ukraine.
- The game is over, assholes, with their serials, - a laid-back man sitting in the locust shadow said to no one in particular.
The man drank vodka and ate ice-cream on a stick, his remark was partly addressed to Chen so Chen smiled politely, listened and paced towards the music playing.

161. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. GLADE AT THE RIVERSIDE. MORNING.

Over in the meadow at the river-side at the very place where Lifunchuk was pasturing goats some time the tables were put in squares and wedding dishes stood out on the tables. Galya and Huyama sat at the head of the table in national Ukrainian costumes, Lifunchuk and Tatyana were right there, Maharaja, Charles, Oyabun, samurais from yakuza, Maharaja’s retinue, and a stray from the pub with his one-legged girl-friend, an old black man, an elderly hore – sailors lover – from the same pub, Tatyana’s neighbors – curious women with golden teeth, Sosunovsky, Borsuk and Veresen’, Igorok the arch gay – Sosunovsky’s boyfriend, Vova and Adik, Cassandra the make-up artist, Angela and Veronica, native inhabitants,  Borys Petrovych, Sasha the Gas, Geora the Sex Mashine, a cripple in an invalid chair, the tiger cub Rajah and an elephant Akbar, standing at the side and taking up vegetables from the table peacefully. Parrots were flying over the table, the raven Vasya pecked out an eye from an appetizing roasted sucking-pig, Matilda’s black cat was devouring boldly some Indian dainty from the table. Aged uncle Spenser dressed in a dinner jacket and a kilt was pouring moonshine for a giant gorilla. A PALESTENIAN ARAB wrapped in an Arafat kerchief poured some moonshine for ORTHODOX JEW with care. A Jew’s hand was spreading to a piglet thievishly. Black carts with machine-guns were standing around making a bow. The river flowed serenely, children plunged into the river from the steep, the sun hung above, music resounded, people enjoyed themselves, danced and fought.
The rough country musicians played the trumpets, drums, fiddles, accordions and dulcimers.
- This is the very uncle Spencer, sir, - Charles said, showing Maharaja the  gentleman with the gorilla. – Guys from yakuza found him in the Congo brush woods. There is nothing impossible for them, sir.
- Do you want to hint that there is no misalliance here, mister Charles? – Maharaja asked pointing to the just married couple and pouring him moonshine out of a dull bottle.
- By no means, sir, even aunt Jane failed to find uncle Spencer, - Charles replied.
- I don’t understand why they are all so happy, - Veresen’ said to Borsuk. - Tolya we lost our job, Tolya we are outsiders at this fest of joy.
- Fuck it all! – Borsuk said. If you wish I will kneel right now and say: “Good Lord! Thank you for all this!”
- You are right, you are right… - Veresen’ said thoughtfully. – But what would we do, what would we do? Maybe I’d better become an artist as Podya?
-
- And now let us smoke, - uncle Spencer said to the gorilla in English and gave her a cigar. And they smoked and Mister Charles saw that.
- Mister Lee, - he said to Lifunchuk, - would you be so kind to give me back one thing precious to me?
- With pleasure, Mister Charles, - Lifunchuk said. I was happy to keep it for you.
And he gave the pipe to Charles.

- All the more that I forbade you to smoke, - old Chen said in Chinese.
He stood at a wedding table and smiled. The parrots flew up to him and now they sat on his shoulders and head. Lifunchuk bowed and kissed his father.
- Father, - he said, - how did you happen to come here?
- What beautiful people live here, - the old man said, watching the natives who were fighting. – Your mother got worried about you and I promised her to see you. And I came right to the wedding. Though it is a pity that it is not yours… Look how people live – they get married, give birth to children…
- I found him but I could not kill him, - Lifunchuk said.
- I know, - Chen said, - you did everything right.
- Now I’m coming back to China, - Lifunchuk said.
- Did you think over everything well, son? – Chen asked..
- The party relies upon me, - Lifunchuk said. – I must justify the Party’s trust.
Chen sighed and looked at Tetyana. She sat turning aside and pouting her lips.
- You are stupid, - the old man said in whisper.
- Will you go to China with me? – Lifunchuk asked Tetyana.
- Oh you go to hell damn you – Tetyana said. She was already sobbing with all her might.
- Tell her not to cry, - Chen said. – The family will embrace her with joy.
He smiled at Tetyana and joined their hands.
- And what about you, father, - Lifunchuk asked.
- I handed my school over to your brother, - Chen said. I will live here instead of you. I’ll open another school. The people here are wonderful but they don’t know kung-fu at all.

And he watched the fighting natives with interest again.

- And all the same Galka is a block-head, - Angela said to Veronica. – She could find herself a producer or an oligarch, and now what – a gangster is just a gangster. What if he goes to jail?
She was saying that in a low voice to her sister and at the same time she was smiling to Galya demonstrating her loyalty.
- Shut up you dummy, - Veronica said. – She will take us with her to India, we’ll live in a palace. I am only sorry for mama – they say dentists pulled out all her teeth in a clinic.
- Not pulled out but sawed – that she wouldn’t bite. I say mother is the only one to blame. I told her time and again to move to the city!
- Don’t worry about that, sister, - Veronica said. My mother taught me something.
And she smiled to her sister and small sharp fangs were exposed and a forked tongue appeared for a moment in her mouth…
And at this time Galya said to Huyama:
- Look, how beautiful it is here! Do you really have such a river in Japan?
- We have Fuji mount, - Huyama said proudly.
- And we have Psyol, - Galya said. – And there are water-nymphs in it. Do you have water-nymphs in your Japan?
- We used to have once, - Huyama said without certainty.
- Listen to me! – a native aboriginal cried into his ear. – Once I was blown up with my fellow-sponsor in Omel’nik and went over a bridge – and I saw it was drifting in the water under me though no circles were seen on the water, so I slung my hook from there at full speed!
- What was that? – Huyama asked.
- Water-nymphs! – the skunk-drunk aboriginal cried. – They live only in our Psyol and in Vorskla too! They would tickle to death even a khan himself!
- So you see darling, - Galya said to Huyama, her witch’s eye sparkled and before Huyama could object she covered him with a wet kiss.
- Girko! – the guests cried (which means in Ukrainian wedding traditions “Kiss the bride!”. “Girko” is translated as “bitter “, it is a playful hint that alcoholic drinks are bitter and guests refuse to drink them unless the groom kisses the bride and makes them sweeter for the guests so that they could keep on drinking more)

The wedding continued. The people danced, drank and fought. Akbar the elephant pulled the brawlers apart: he took them by his trunk and arranged them on their places. The old black man rocked himself to and fro and sang softly:
- Jumbo, jumbo, bwana, aborigeny surisana…

162. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. GLADE AT THE RIVERSIDE. MORNING. (CONT.)

- This is Heaven I say, - Vova said to Adik. 
- We deserved it in our last life, brother, - Adik said and poured some moonshine to his friend.
And at this moment he saw a beautiful girl – the very girl he wanted to meet in the morgue. Now she was standing behind the wedding couple’s back, beside an elegant gentleman, her neighbor on the zinc table. The girl was smiling and was beckoning Adik with her hand and the gentleman was bristling his mustache in a friendly way, and Adik got up from the table and went on…

- Where are you going, bro? – Vova asked absent-mindedly.

But Adik was already running by stumbling after the green-eyed Valkyrie. And Vova ran after him. They were moving away slowly, the girl ahead (she was smiling and waving to Adik half turning to him), old gentleman, drunk Vova and Adik – they were running though still could not catch up with those two.

And at this moment Hesse lover hugged his one-legged girl-friend and cried:
- Father, carts ahead, machine-guns bear for action!!!
Musicians played “Yablochko” (ethnic Slavic dance). Oyabun dressed in a Makhno suit threw his hat onto the ground…

Everyone was dancing, even the elephant. A WOMAN WITH GOLD DENTURES, who sat in front of uncle Spencer, enveloped him in her lustful look and demonstrated a Sharon Stone winning trick with her legs. A watchful gorilla noticed her maneuver and dragged Uncle Spencer to the bushes out of harm's way. Being dragged by the gorilla Uncle Spencer was puffing his cigar with perfect calm.
- Hey, yablochko, where are you going to - if you get to Makhno there will be no return for you! – musicians sang.
The guys on the carts pulled up the barrels of the machine-guns and fired in the air. The cat climbed up a tree and yelled madly from there.

- You will live in my palace, - maharaja said to Galya. – I don’t want any excuses.
- I love Ukraine, - Galya said.
She embraced her father, kissed him and said:
- And you may build a palace here. If silrada gives you permission.
She laughed with witch’s laughter and Maharaja shut up in fear. And before his mental vision he saw a palace on the Psyol-river bank.


163. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. SUNSET. DREAM SEQUENCE.

Three monkeys – a deaf one, a blind one and a dumb one – sat on the palace’s frontward, supporting the roof. A wide stairway led to the river, marble lions gaped their jaws…(computer graphics).
Our old friend flew past the palace – I was a gloomy muzhyk with a girl in a pink dress. They flew in a coffin like in a boat – a  muzhyk astern with an oar, a girl at a head, licking a lollipop.

164. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. GLADE AT THE RIVERSIDE. MORNING. (CONT.)

Suddenly the palace melted in haze, Maharaja saw his daughter Galya-Parvathi in front of him, Sosunovsky was pouring some wine for her, gay-looking Igoryok hugged him for his waist tenderly… Maharaja tried to slap a fly on his cheek however the fly appeared to be swifter. It flew up…

165. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. GLADE AT THE RIVERSIDE. VIEW FROM ABOVE. MORNING. (CONT.)

Voice off screen: “Such a good time I had at the wedding, - Paraska the fly thought to herself, - ate nicely, listened to the music; naw,  nevertheless we are happier in our village than in the city, our air is cleaner and this dumb-ass Lucilia with her city show off… Somehow I did not see her for long, my friend – maybe she is having fun with her dead bodies… wow, what a beautiful world, oh yeahh!!”

…From the fly’s point of view the wedding appeared to be far underneath – a river flew coiling like a snake among fields and woods, red sun was setting in the horizon, slight vapor was drifting from the river, music and shots were heard below. (helicopter shooting). Swallows swooped down from above, one of them was coming nearer growing in size, it opened its mouth… - “Click!” - and the world went out for the fly.  (fade to black).

166. UKRAINE. KRAMARENKY FARMSTEAD. EARLY MORNING.

The morning wind played with slips of paper, turning over table-clothes on the tables at the river bank. The yellow morning sun gilded the leftovers. Parrots and crows were picking the leavings thoroughly on the table. The elephant shifted from one foot to the other right here.
A couple of drunkards from the pub, an old black man, native Myron and Vova and Adik slept right there spreading in antique poses.
Master Chen and a small group of clumsy village women moved over the meadow easy in tai chi chuan rhythm.
Oyabun woke up in a cart, he cracked his joints and stretched his legs, went to the table. On his way he stepped over the sleeping drunkards. He lingered by the lying Vova and Adik. Both gangsters lay on the green grass at the wedding table and they could have been considered sleeping if it were not for the livores mortis on their faces and hands and the clotted blood stains on the corners of their lips.

- “Dimmak” the delayed death blow – Oyabun said thoughtfully. Huyama never misses. (never makes a blunder).
- They died happy, sensei, - said Kendzo, approaching him.

Oyabun had a glass of moonshine, crackled a pickled cucumber, then he listened: a lark sang in the sky.
Vitacik the moron dashed in morning sky with the roar of a supersonic fighter, leaving an inversion trace after himself. Or maybe was it only a plane?..

- Kendzo, - Oyabun said. – Did you call to the bank?
- All the money is on the account already, - Kendzo said. – All of a billion and a half. Those are heaps of money, sensei. What will we do with it?
- That money will be invested to the fund for supporting Ukrainian poetry and cinematography, - Oyabun said. – All in all who is to finance this country’s culture if not an Indian maharaja and Ukrainian yakuza?
He looked at a lark in the summer sky:
- Tell the guys to get the carts ready.

And in an instant – they flew along the step, black carts with machine-guns. The sun flooded them with morning gold, music played, a lark sang. Carts rushed along the step, wild Makhno screams were heard from them. 
Old Chen and clumsy village women moved slowly and regularly in tai chi chuan rhythm in the morning sun rays.

THE END
2007-2010