a slut! Understand?
Understand?
Yeah, I understand.
Now then. Don't throw cigarette butts
on the floor, don't spit,
don't make a mess in the lavatory.
Do not ever talk to Zina any more.
She complains that you wait
for her in dark corners.
And who told the patient:
...'Devil alone knows'?
Where d'you think you are,
in some low dive?
You sure being too hard on me, Dad.
What? ! Don't you dare call me Dad!
What impertinent familiarity? You will
address me by my name and patronymic!
Aw, why can't you lay off? Don't spit...
Don't smoke... Don't go there...
It's just like the rules in a tram.
Why don't you let me live?
And about my calling you Dad.
You are wrong here.
I didn't ask you to perform
the operation, did I?
A fine business - you go and grab hold
of an animal, slice his head open,
...and now you're sick of him!
I didn't give permission
to operate on me, did I.
Neither did my relatives.
I guess I have the right to sue you.
So you object to having been turned
into a human being, do you.
Maybe you'd prefer to be sniffing
around garbage cans again?
Or freezing under gateways?
Why do you keep on at me?
Garbage cans, garbage cans!
Perhaps I was making my living there.
And what if I'd died under your knife?
What d'you say to that, comrade?
My name is Philip Philipovich.
I'm no comrade of yours!
Oh sure, I know. Of course,
how else, we're not your comrades!
How could we. We understand, sir!
We didn't go to universities.
We never had a flat of fifteen
rooms and a bathroom.
Only now it is time to forget
about all that.
At present everybody
has his own rights.
Use your fingers to catch fleas!
Use your fingers! I can't understand,
where you get them from?
You don't think I breed
them on purpose, do you?
I guess fleas just like me.
There is no time to weep
When we leave the stirrup and
take up the steel of labour.
There is one answer to every question
And there is no other.
I need some papers,
Philip Philipovich.
Papers? Damn.
- May be... H'm... Perhaps we might...
- Sorry, no.
You know yourself, that a man without
a document is strictly forbidden to exist.
To begin with, there's
the House Committee...
- What has the House Committee got to do
with it? - What do you mean? Everything.
Every time I meet one of them they ask me
when I'm going to get registered.
I can just imagine what you tell them.
I thought I told you not
to loaf around the stairs!
That sounds rather insulting.
Very insulting.
What am I - a convict?
What do you mean - loaf!
What does your precious
House Committee say, then?
There's no call to brand it 'precious'.
It protects people's interests.
Whose interests, may I ask?
Everyone knows. The working
class element's.
Are you a worker then?
That's obvious, I am not a capitalist.
So how does the House Committee propose
to defend your revolutionary rights?
Easy. You ought to register me.
They say it is unheard of...
...that a man should live in Moscow
without registration.
That is for starters. But the most
important thing is to have a record card.
I don't want to be taken
for a deserter.
And then again there's the Union,
the Labour Exchange...
And how, pray, am I supposed
to register you?
You have got neither
name nor surname.
That is not fair.
I can very easily chose
a name for myself.
- I announce it in the newspapers and there
you are. - What do you wish to be called?
Poligraph Poligraphovich.
Stop playing the fool, I am serious.
I don't get it. I mustn't swear.
I mustn't spit.
Yet all I ever hear from you
is 'Fool, fool'.
I guess that in the RSFSR swearing
must be for professors only.
I beg your pardon. Your name struck me
as a little odd. Where, as a matter
of interest, did you dig it up?
The House Committee helped me.
We looked it up in the calendar.
They said: 'What do you fancy',
so I chose that one.
Zina, bring me the calendar
from the consulting room.
There could not possibly be