wines named after sixtieth anniversary...
Why champagne has to be made in factory named after sixtieth anniversary of USSR?
Champagne must be made in Champagne.
Sasha, perhaps you want bananas?
I don't want any bananas, i want Volodya...
Why are you washing each one seperately?
Volodya asked me to.
Chernobil, pesticides...
What are those people anyway?
Normal people, they're going to have a breakfast.  I'll give them a jar.
What for?
They'll pour champagne in there. He cannot drink it with gas, he has beastly burning then.
Champagne? In the morning?
Respect.
What's that life there is in Kargopol?
5, 4, 3, 2, 1...start!
Million, million, million of red roses...
In general I don't drink, and seperately, too.
....you see from the window, from the window, from the window...
I don't drink at all: i have to keep myself in good shape.
And she doesn't drink.
She's a woman, prospective mother.
And anyway, to call drinking such slops in middle of the day boozing
is complete nonsense.
And we'll have a drink just for the sake of record. Let's do like this:
touch the glasses...
I don't know about Kargopol, but Moscow has always been known
because of its hospitality.
My little contribution to family's breakfast.
Tolik.
I'm neighbour.
But practically we and Dmitri live in the same house.
What's in the jar, Tolik?
Stewed fruit.
For my personal use i call it speacial stewed fruit "Mermaid".
Completely pure product.
Raisin, pinch of syrup-filled bonbons and a little of willpower.
And, take this into account, no machines at all.
I put with my tool on machines...
In begining of the process, glove looks like this:
Process progresses, gentlemen, progresses
and glove slowly...
And in the end it looks like this:
Ready.
It can be used.
Pardon us, Tolik, but we don't mix drinks.
Perhaps, some champagne with us?
I prefer with bubbles. I adore when it starts itching in the nose.
I believe that they...up there...
heavily overdo this thing. Am i stupider than they are?
Don't i know for myself when to drink, when to sleep, when to eat shit with silver spoon?
I'm a free man in free democratic country.
I'm the resume of it's long historical way. How many lives are put down for me?
I don't count year [19]17. That went almost without spilling blood.
But civil war? 8 000 000.
Expropriated bourgeous. Nobody counted them.
And this daddy's carelessness?
Here you go.
Year [19]37 alone! Fatherland's war: 20 000 000.
????, ????, doctors-murderers...
And what?
And what's the result?
Instead of guarding my civil freedom won by such struggle,
i am instructed whether to drink in the morning or not. Pardon. Excuse me.
I want to put with big tool on such matters.
You're digging deep, Tolik.
Have you read "Ogonok"?
I myself pull Korotich's legs off his ass.
Just that people have found some happiness in life.
They've opened coopertive. Chinese are back in restaurant "Pechki".
They've brought tainted eggs!
What eggs? What chinese?
I'm [telling] you about simple russian man.
Let's say i fall down dead. And then?
I got in Moscow by the limit. Limits.
Well, throwing galoshes aside two drunk men
take me, throw in long pit and bury.
Not a grass, not a tree...
Well, he...at least brought his mother to Vaganyko,
she's there side by side father, grandfather.
And that's happiness.
If something happens, take me to church.
Let parish priest babble his lines.
Though, that's also bullshit.
I know these parish priest...soviets.
Tribe of bitches. I put on them with a tool...
You, old pal, are inflaming yourself in vain. We were gonna listen to music.
We thought to cool down musically. And that's all.
??????
Put the dog muzzle on, please.
Goat!
Dissident!!
Bukovsky...Maximov and his wife.
Damn Solzhenitsin!
Perhaps, let's better listen to music?
Turn it on!
If you don't like it, go to your Israel!
Don't dishonour motherland!
Seraphim Tulikov. Folk tune with lyrics by MVD.
Song about a birthmark.