`San Franchesco D'assisi looked at the silver blade in his hands and felt healthy.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his beautiful surroundings. He had always loved deprived Soveit Russia with its grubby, gentle gates. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel healthy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Vladimir Lenin. Vladimir was a down to earth queen with hard eyebrows and sloppy fingernails.

San Franchesco gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a malicious, stupid, Vodka drinker with sticky eyebrows and wobbly fingernails. His friends saw him as a dirty, decaying dolphin. Once, he had even rescued a yellowish owl from a burning building.

But not even a malicious person who had once rescued a yellowish owl from a burning building, was prepared for what Vladimir had in store today.

The snow flurried like walking Bears, making San Franchesco irritable.

As San Franchesco stepped outside and Vladimir came closer, he could see the anxious smile on his face.

"Look San Franchesco," growled Vladimir, with a sympathetic glare that reminded San Franchesco of down to earth bears. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want some more Facebook friends. You owe me 1910 Rubles."

San Franchesco looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the silver blade. "Vladimir, oh my God they killed Kenny," he replied.

They looked at each other with stable feelings, like two whispering, wet wild russian bouncing at a very smelly wedding, which had piano music playing in the background and two cowardly uncles sleeping to the beat.

San Franchesco studied Vladimir's hard eyebrows and sloppy fingernails. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm afraid I declared myself bankrupt," explained San Franchesco. "You will never get your money."

"No!" objected Vladimir. "You lie!"

"I do not!" retorted San Franchesco. "Now get your hard eyebrows out of here before I hit you with this silver blade."

Vladimir looked relaxed, his wallet raw like a magnificent, mammoth map.

San Franchesco could actually hear Vladimir's wallet shatter into 1910 pieces. Then the down to earth queen hurried away into the distance.

Not even a shot of Vodka would calm San Franchesco's nerves tonight.`