Miraculous concoction. Chapter 2


          Next morning Cardan woke up with a severe headache. "Once again that bloody hangover," he thought automatically. "In order to alleviate the pain you need to get booze, you need to always be on the move. Get up and go to look for another "victim"," the solution worked out over the years sounded in his head. After drinking a cup of cold water and washing his face, he threw a worn jacket over his shoulder, like David his sling when he was challenging Goliath, and went to "battle."

           His future victim, a driver nicknamed Chika, was delivering grain from the field to the grain facilities. It was time for lunch and he, hurrying home to take a bite, asked the colleague drivers where they signed the vouchers. "Over there, at the bench," one of them said casually and nodded to the other side of the road where an old man was sitting.
 Chika ran to the indicated place and the drivers, hardly suppressing their laughter, expected his reaction. With an angry look and non-stop complaining Chika returned to the drivers. "What ... he signs the bloody vouchers, he`s looking after the turkeys and doesn`t sign any vouchers," he continued to grumble. And then a barely restrained avalanche of laughter came upon him; some of the drivers even rolled on the ground holding on to their bellies.

          One day a cruel joke was played on him, which led to a chain reaction of ridicule. A circus came to the village, and in the poster it was written that a funny monkey named Chika would perform. However, some local humorist replaced a photo of the monkey with an image of the driver, who after the circus had left the village was nicknamed Chika. Since then his acquaintances have always been waiting for a moment to play a trick on him.

          Waving his hand towards the drivers, angry Chika went home for dinner. At home he said hello to his father who came from a neighboring village. Everyone called him Father there. He organized a construction of a shed for hay and hired two workers for help. Chika could do just some small chores about his household. From the first days of his married life his father helped him in everything: he built, planted, dug potatoes, and harvested hay. Besides his own household he also took care of his son's work. When Chika had not been married yet, Father decided to make a real man out of him and sent him to work to the north of the country. "Go," he said threateningly to him, "you will see life, you will gain experience, you will grow wiser. There they will knock out that foolishness of yours quickly from you! At the same time you will earn some money." Chika went to Murmansk. He worked in the port on a forklift. Once he could not cope with the management of the "freaky clunker" and fell into the ocean from the quay together with the forklift.
 "Hey, boy, you`d better go home, we have plenty of our own workers like you," his formidable chief fired him. And then, a month later, Father saw his "prodigal son" again. After that he realized that he would have to help his stupid offspring till the end of his days.

Chika's wife put food on the table and Father flavored each dish with red pepper.
“Did you ask the guys if they like food with pepper or don`t? Do you think if you enjoy a spicy meal, so does everyone?” Chika flushed with indignation.
“Here you are, puppy!” Chika got a middle finger under his nose from Father.
“Help yourself!” angry Chika retorted with the same gesture.
Noise, shouts, screams - a family squabble began. Workers rushed to calm down both brawlers.
“I don`t give a damn about you all! I`m going to work,” the furious son headed for the door.
“You'd better poison beetles in the garden. Take a look at it, almost all the potato tops have been destroyed,” Chika received a sharp reproach into his back from his Father.

Arriving at the garage, he met Peter the First. Instantly comes to mind the image of the Great Russian Tsar, but not in honor of him Petya received such an important nickname. In the local garage there were two more Peters. Peter the First always came to work first, exactly for this reason he was awarded this honorable nickname from his colleagues.

“And what should I do with those bloody potato beetles?” Chika began complaining. “Soon all the potatoes will be eaten. I poisoned them and choked them - nothing helps.”
“You should do as I have done to them. I`ve stricken out their teeth with a hammer,” Peter the First advised.
“Are you crazy? How can you strike out their teeth with a hammer, unless you smash their heads with it?!”

Chika's indignation reached the limit. He hurried into the building to find someone and complain about the stupidity of Peter the First.
“Just imagine,” he said to Pirate, who limped on one leg and resembled Flint the bandit, from which he was given his nickname. “Peter the First says that he`s stricken out teeth of potato beetles with a hammer in his garden. How can he strike out their teeth with a hammer, unless he smashes their heads with it?!”

“So what? I`ve also done the same,” the Pirate played along.
“And you too! Are you crazy just like him? Don`t you understand anything? How can you strike their teeth out, unless you smash their heads with it?!”

“Oh, some people can be very stupid," Chika thought and went outside. When he was walking to his truck, he saw Cardan coming towards him.

“Can you imagine, Cardan, I just talked with Peter the First and Pirate, and they say that they`ve stricken out teeth of potato beetles with a hammer in their gardens. How can they strike out their teeth with a hammer, unless they smash their heads with it?!”

Cardan realized that the mountain had come to Muhammad.
“Do not listen to anyone. It is necessary to poison beetles by your own concoction.”
“Finally, I met a normal person, at least you aren`t such a crazy one,” Chika said delightedly.
“Tell me, have I ever deceived you? You know, I can fool anyone around but you.
 I`ll give you one popular remedy, which is environmentally friendly and does not require any expenses.  If you give me a bottle of vodka, I`ll share it with you.
“Yes, I`ve got just half a liter in the truck. I have earned it today. I don`t want to share it with those fools. So let me know the remedy?”
“Come, you'll give me a bottle and I'll tell you how to make miraculous concoction.”
“And you will not deceive me?”
“Never. I`ve poisoned all of the beetles in my garden. Come to my garden and take a look at the potato tops, you'll see it for yourself.”

Chika opened the truck door and pulled a bottle of alcohol out of the glove box.
“So, what's the remedy?”
“Give me a bottle! What are you afraid of?!” Cardan grabbed the booze and almost tore it away from Chika with his hands. “Listen, put a bucket in your garden and go to piss into it by the whole family. When the bucket is full with urine, fill up the poison sprayer and sprinkle the beetles with it. Have you got it?”
“Yes. I`ll try and do that.”
“You'll be grateful to me. We`ll certainly have a drink together sometime.”

Each of the two guys has received their award: Cardan cured a headache and Chika found a cheap and effective remedy for Colorado beetles. "Now, you, Father, you'll dance for me ... I'll prove it to you that you`ve underestimated me ... Why should I go to the toilet and neglect such a wonderful, miraculous remedy? .. Oh, Father, I'll teach you how to poison beetles ... You`ll see what a puppy I am," he reiterated comforting thoughts in his head.
          Arriving home in the evening, he told his family about the miraculous concoction. They collected urine and sprinkled the potato garden with it, until the bug destroyed everything completely. Chika realized finally that Cardan had deceived him; full of anger, he clenched his teeth and said: "Oh, rascal!"