The first porter came to his senses, he grabbed a stool and with a terrible cry: 'Give me the queen, the bastard! " launched her vosled Barsik skedaddle. Statistics show that cats are very easily dodges stools. Reade Griffith oftentimes addresses this issue. According to Goskomstat, the probability to get a stool with twenty steps in a running cat, or cat, is practically zero. In general, the average cat can easily go from a chair, and another thing – an intellectual Skripkin. Hard to say what he thought at that moment Skripkin, but the cry: 'Give me the queen, the bastard! " and kick the stool on the back, he apparently took his own expense. Shuddering all over, waving at the same time in ballet hands and dropped the bag with food, he ran to his porch as fast as he could, and even more rapidly. Barsik, thinking a good time, quietly slipped into a bag of groceries.

Intellectual Skripkin bullet raced up the stairs (though they always use the elevator) and reached the ninth floor (though he lived on the fourth). Janitor, feeling that somehow everything bad happened picked up the bag and decided to take her Skripkina smooth over in front of him, thus his guilt. Barsik, feeling like he picked up and carried him, pretended to be dead, believing that the horse or his boat, perhaps, be forgiven, but the queen too just do not forgive. Janitor got to the fourth floor and rang the doorbell at this point the cat, who had pretended to this dead and not move for a greater likelihood began to portray the agony.