Taking off his shirt, he jumped into the water and a cellar to wallow bottles.
Sham-Pana, whiskey, rum, and something else for him in an incomprehensible language.
“Good naborchik drinks for my latter-day Robinson” – Bezalel he thought.
Ahead was a corner of a large waterlogged container. Pushing in front of the bottle, he paddled to him.
Read the inscription on it, he almost laughed: – Restaurant “SAN FRANCISCO”. Seksi vido.
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