Uncomfortable bachelor apartment. Quite poor environment. Small table. There's a dirty kettle on it. Cup. Almost empty can of coffee, sugar bowl. An old wardrobe, a cupboard with open drawers that do not close, from which protrude crumpled things. Chiffonier with sagging door, which is held on the last breath. The old sagging bed has a stack of books instead of one leg. The bed is unmade. On the floor crumpled "t-shirt-drunk", lying sock, of course, one. On the furniture and in every corner everything is piled up. Cutlery, glasses, plates, forks. Beside the bed is a saucer of dried fish and an empty beer bottle.
Gavrila runs screaming into the apartment. First, there is the cry, and then his carrier.
GAVRILA: AAAAAAAAAAA! NO! NO!! NO!!! It can't be, I don't believe it! Which times on those same rake. Well, it had to work! After all, when something should be so lucky!
Casually throws some tickets around him.
GAVRILA: that Chubais with vouchers heated, Mavrodi with the mad interest rates. And twice and both times me! And now… state all-Russian lottery! Everyone wins. Everything! (to the audience)here, watch it on TV. He won the car, the apartment. Those went on a trip on the won vouchers, these broke the cash jackpot! All right… (exasperated) everybody wins. Alone, I fly like plywood over Paris all the time. I'm probably the only one in the whole country who invested everywhere and lost everywhere. I, Gabriel S. Mindrutescu, law-abiding, God-fearing people everywhere not sewn to what the sleeve was…
