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A play for 2,3,4,5,6 people. I'm looking for a scarier woman! Comedy. Nikolay LakutinЧитать онлайн книгу.

A play for 2,3,4,5,6 people. I'm looking for a scarier woman! Comedy - Nikolay Lakutin


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I agree.

      Throws off the phone number. He spends some time doing his own business, receives a report on the phone. Reads in amazement.

      Nikita (surprised, taken aback). As my dad used to say: Ash leaves fall from an oak tree, wow, there's none… holy shit. I looked closely (looking closely at the report), and really, it's amazing.... awesome.

      Dials the phone number, calls.

      Nikita (sternly, matter-of-factly, into the phone). Pavel, greetings. Is it convenient to talk? How is he resting? Well done, are you at your residence? Clear. One? M… Why are you deceiving me? I know that you are not alone, moreover, I know with whom you are there now and yesterday… How do I know? Don't be ridiculous, have you forgotten who I am? Do you think I can draw left-wing reports and have fun with my girl? You can take Matilda for yourself, I'm not interested in her anymore, but the stolen money should be returned. (Distastefully pulling away from the tube after listening to some pitiful story). Pash, I know you wouldn't dare to do that yourself. Without good support and competent management, this scheme would not have worked. Two higher educations of Matilda are affected. Well done, girl, the head works well in every sense. I'm not mad at you, but we won't work together anymore. I will arrange for you to get a month's leave, after that you will resign of your own accord. For this month, please return everything. Where to take it, what to do is not my problem. Sell a couple of cars, mortgage an apartment… You'll figure it out, especially since you have such a big-headed adviser at your side – you'll figure it out. I won't call you anymore, and you don't call me either. If the cash register doesn't receive the money in a month, I will transfer this case to my friends from the 90s, but it would be better if you didn't meet them, they are much less loyal in arguments and beliefs than I am. That's it, have a nice day.

      He hangs up.

      Literally immediately the phone rings.

      Nikita (seeing who is calling, dropping the call and turning off the mobile phone). Matilda… I'm sorry, dear, we don't have anything else to talk about. How did I not guess right away? But… Better late than never. And what was she missing? (To the viewer). Tell me? Maybe I'm some kind of freak? Maybe being around me is disgusting? It seems not a fool, there's a business that's spinning under my wing. He founded everything himself, promoted everything himself, hired workers later, opened branches… Not the most lost person. I almost don't drink, I don't smoke, I practically don't swear. What's wrong?

      Brothers, I honestly feel like a leper. I step on the same rake every time. Matilda– she's not my first girlfriend. Before her there was Diana, Nelly, Milena, Lika. Everything is like from the covers, everything is like a selection. Sponges, haircuts, manicurist, eyelashes, eyebrows, breasts, ass… Everything is in the latest fashion. All beauties, all lyalki… But I didn't have a relationship with any of these girls. Sometimes she's a fool, sometimes she's too smart (with a hint of Matilda), well, you saw for yourself. Then a lazy person, then a show-off over the edge so that he does not see people around him… But the main thing is not even that. The main thing is that none of them needed me. They needed my money, yes, but not me.

      I understand that beauties know their worth and initially set very specific guidelines for the rest of their lives. It's silly to expect a stay-at-home lifestyle from fifa, cooking, washing, seven on the benches and pies in the evening for her husband. Of course not. But you also understand me, I also do not differ in originality from the majority… What is there from the majority? From all men! We all want to see a beautiful, spectacular, well-groomed girl next to us, who will excite, light a flame in you, feed you with her endless feminine energy. A girl that you want to pamper, that you want to please, surprise, that you want to admire. What? Am I wrong? Who has it wrong? Is there any of the men in the hall who would dream of finding a lady of the heart scarier and more beautiful?

      Nikita catches himself thinking. Thinking.

      Nikita (pondering). Oh, by the way… That's an interesting thought. A scary girl can almost always be ennobled. Dress her decently, take her to the masters, they will bring such a marathon… This, frankly speaking, is not a problem at all today. But… damn it, maybe just scary, simple earthly girls who haven't tried anything sweeter than carrots in their lives, maybe they don't have all that garbage in their heads that I'm tired of raking among the figs?

      Interesting… After all, what am I risking? We must try!

      Nikita enthusiastically places an ad on the phone.

      Nikita (voicing). So… Dating site… This one will do. Yeah. So: gender, age, photo… and… hmm…, that's good. Uh-huh. What else? Who I'm looking for. The girl. We will indicate the age from, to. Text… We will write the text like this: A man of pleasant appearance is looking for a girl of medium parameters and moderate requests …

      No, this is nonsense. It's no good. Moderate queries and averaged parameters are extensible concepts. We need something else altogether. Well, that's it:

      A real man! I plow like a horse, I get like a sheep, I live like a dog, I dream like a man, more precisely like Napoleon!

      No, that won't do either. Why distort the picture so much? But I can't write who I work for and how much I earn! The hunters will run together again, and I just need to protect them in every possible way from myself, or rather myself from them. It doesn't matter… So-so-so … and it is necessary to write something in a simple way, so that the picture of me is simple, modest, without hints of an aesthete. I'll leave it like this:

      I'm looking for a scarier woman to create some kind of relationship.

      About me.

      I plow like a horse!

      I get like a sheep!

      I live like a dog!

      After all, sheep are different, not all of them live poorly, and dogs, by the way, some live in such conditions that some people will envy. That's fine, consider that you have not deceived anyone. Post!!!

      ZTM.

      Scene 2. Shura.

      Another day. Evening. Flat. Nikita comes home from work, casually throws aside Pavel's old reports, puts new documents. He hastily changes clothes, goes for a mug of tea, comes with a mug, drinks, and simultaneously studies new reports.

      Shura enters.

      Shura (smiling stupidly). Hello!

      Nikita (seeing Shura, blows part of the tea out of his mouth, taken aback). MOTHER ..... (pulls herself together)… I forgot to call Teri at all! Fuf, it's good that I remembered. I'll call you later.

      Shura (smiling stupidly). Hello!

      Nikita (ironically, trying to hide a smile). Hello. Who do you want?

      Shura (looking around, making sure that only she and he are here). Us? And … understood – understood. Vision fails. I'm the only one here. There are no us here. And you to me, lad, if you are Nikita.

      Nikita (ironically, trying to hide a smile). Yes, it's not that the vision will fail, here… Whatever you want and don't want, will refuse. Well, poof, okay, we figured it out. I'm Nikita. Me, then, to you.

      Shura looks around again.

      Nikita (ironically, trying to hide a smile). You, then.

      Shura (in doubt). Oh, yeah, yeah.

      Nikita (ironically, trying to hide a smile). I'm Nikita, and what's your name, beauty?

      Shura (comically, awkwardly embarrassed). I'm Shura. Shurochka, you can, don't be offended.

      Nikita (ironically, trying to hide a smile). Yes, you're my good one. Shurochka, so Shurochka. Well, come in, Shurochka, sit down. (Mimicking). Sit down where you can find a place. (Indicates possible places to rest). Tea? Coffee?

      Shura (approvingly, having settled down). Tea! Coffee!

      Nikita (confused, not understanding). Aa… Excuse me? I didn't understand, so tea, or coffee?

      Shura (spontaneity itself). And tea and coffee! I love everything, I will do everything. Pull both. The dryness from the road is such that neither in the song to say, nor with a pen to cut.

      Nikita (corrects). describe.

      Shura


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