My Joy Page #3

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Come here, you scum!

Come here!

You're hiding behind your uniform,

you louse!

You've been chicken-sh*t

as long as I've known you.

You only sneak up from behind!

Scared? Come here!

Come here, you scum!

Come here!

Are you coming out?

Come on, quick.

The bastard's been working out.

Took me three goes to knock him out.

Let's go.

Hello.

No.

He's resting.

What, don't you recognize me?

Then don't f***ing call at night!

Freedom, all right!

Or don't you give a sh*t?

Whatever, I don't have time.

Got to get a move on.

Put it back.

So we're even then, right?

- Will you give us a lift?

- To the turn and no further.

Don't offend the master.

What are you doing in the dark?

You need to heat the stove

or you'll f***ing freeze.

Get the hell out of here.

Get the hell out of here, I say!

Get the f*** out!

Get out, I said!

Hey!

Hey!

You'll freeze to death, you fool.

Come on, get up.

Come on, son. Come on.

People are just like little children.

Stop!

Giddy-up!

I put all of them,

every single one of them...

...into a mass grave.

Not one of those sons of b*tches...

...managed to avoid my just bullet.

Comrade General!

For the fatherland...

...for world peace...

...I laid the bastards head to head...

...hole to hole...

...as if strung together

on a single thread.

Your order has been carried out!

The bastards will lie in the ground...

...the children will continue to smile,

and the stars will glow in the sky.

A mass grave is a peaceful grave,

Comrade General.

Trails, trails...

I killed those trails...

...and they vanished into thin air.

Comrade General, slain trails

have been added to the mass grave.

The mass grave of slain trails,

Comrade General.

Our victory erased all trails.

Dead men keep silent

with trails of their lips.

Dead men join us in the fight

for peace on earth,

Comrade General.

Stop!

Easy, old man!

Mister!

Where does this road go?

He almost killed me, that freak.

You know what l think, Bro?

There's nothing we can

f***ing do here. lt's dead.

This boy is dead.

No one needs him.

He has to be buried.

He stinks.

lt's your decision.

You're my superior,

but how much longer

are we going to drag him around?

They keep sending us from house to house.

lf we need fake documents, that's easy.

lt's your decision, you rank higher,

but there's no f***ing reason

to hang round here.

And we'll drink to him

as to one of our own.

What you say is sound,

but it's me who'll answer for it.

What if there's no one's there?

What if everyone died

while he was biting the dust?

We'll keep driving around

till the locals kill us.

- All right, all right. We'll see.

Pull over, l need to freshen up.

- There!

- What?

A hanged man!

You're hallucinating!

This sh*t is going to do for us!

That's it!

We give up at the next village.

- Go crazy if you want, l'm through.

- He was there.

l get it, l get it.

All of it.

Open up, you bastard,

or we smash the door down!

Who's there?

ldentification check.

What do you want, Lad?

lt's a population survey.

ls he with you,

the guy hiding by the wall?

He's with me.

And what do you need, Lads?

- We're taking a population count.

- What population?

- Grandpa, give us some milk.

- So you're thirsty.

Why didn't you say so?

And the guy who's hiding,

do l give him milk, too?

lt looks like there's meat.

Maybe we should eat here.

- lt was him.

- Who?

The hanged man.

I understand.

Hang in there, Bro.

I'll sort things out.

Get up.

I might need a hand.

Try it, lad. It's fresh.

It's him.

What did he say

the guy who's not drinking?

Everything's fine, Grandpa.

He's recounting his dreams.

- What's this?

- What's what, Lad?

This.

l'm asking you, what is it?

Anything's possible, Lad.

You know yourself

these are troubled times.

What was it, you say,

brought you this way?

Grandpa, l need your signature

on a piece of paper.

Why do you need my mark

on your scrap of paper?

The thing is,

l need to leave a corpse here.

- You mean his?

- No, not his.

lt's in the car, in a zinc coffin.

He was a good guy,

fought his battles.

We are looking for his mama,

but she's nowhere.

Not here. Not there.

Nobody knows sh*t.

And that one's losing it.

He's hallucinating.

l should get him away,

but l have my orders.

Take him as a grandson.

He was a good guy.

l swear on my mother.

- He's in zinc, you said.

- lt's a good, non-ferrous metal.

But it won't keep you warm.

Does the boy have an overcoat?

Grandpa, that's thieving.

lt's up to you.

You had your drink...

...and l need to feed the animals.

Will the officer's do?

l saw you have a gun, too.

A gun's off-limits.

Don't get greedy, Grandpa.

All right,...

...bring me the officer's coat.

Lodge your buddy next door.

Over there.

l'll make my mark.

l'll even make two of them.

You're not a talkative guy, are you?

You tired?

Just tired, or tired of life?

Why blame it on life?

Ajob you love, a girl,

a little money.

What else do you need to be happy?

l'll tell you one thing:

The main thing is not interfering.

Never interfere.

lf they don't ask you,

then, f*** it, don't interfere.

Get me?

Everything bad

comes from people meddling.

They don't like this, don't like that...

...so they f***ing interfere. Right?

You probably interfered, too!

Now you can face the music!

lt's an art, understanding

when to interfere and when not to.

lt's a talent worth having.

lf you shouldn't interfere, don't.

Am l right?

Keep cool.

Keep cool, Beardy.

Maybe you can straighten things out.

lt'll be a lesson to you.

l tell everybody,

don't f***ing interfere!

lf they don't ask you to,

don't move a muscle.

lt's safer. Right?

lf you're stealing, steal!

But don't f***ing meddle.

Steal, but steal quietly.

Those bastards are allowed

to do whatever they like...

...and we have to live like sh*t?

F*** that!

l know they don't say to you,

go thieving,

but they let you know:

steal but don't get greedy.

Take what you need

and don't interfere.

Am I right?

Time to fill up.

Sergeant Zhitsov,

Road Traffic Patrol.

Your documents.

- What's with your headlight?

- lt burned out.

And your roadworthiness certificate

went with it?

Don't you know

the situation here these days?

Your headlight is burnt out.

Let's go.

- Where to?

- Where? To check.

Check what?

I'm a policeman myself.

Then why the f***ing around?

lf you're asked for documents,

give them.

Let's go.

A burned-out headlight!

Listen, there's something wrong

with one cop writing up another.

Maybe we can find some solution?

What's wrong with it?

We'll draw up a report now.

Maybe we can reach an agreement...

Sergeant?

So, you're a commissioner.

A f***ing major.

And from Moscow, too.

Be quiet, Sergeant!

How dare you, f*** it!

There's a policeman in front of you.

A major, f*** it.

A mayor, f*** it.

Let's see what kind of major you are.

- Your surname, Sergeant!

- l don't have to give it.

Then back the f*** off.

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