There is a Russian submarine all killed-killed. Dents, cracks, as it does not sink. Anchored, the sailors came out on the deck built. All in boots, padded jackets. The captain of all built and walks back and forth, nervous and asks:
- Who threw the felt boots on the remote control?
Silence... - I once again ask who threw boots on the console?
Silence.
The Yankovsky aircraft carrier is passing by. Fresh clean, sailors all from the corner in glasses with chewing gum and Russian scream, they say you are all dirty ragged, and we Americans are clean, brave and we have a great country - America!
The captain of our boat:
"There's no more of your fucking America!" I'm asking for the last time WHOM THE KINOL IS FUCKING ON THE PULOT?