"You stupid faggot!" an older man roared from the next room. "You're spending weeks and nights with that faggot Roman again!" The small boy began to slowly back out of the room.
"When are you going to settle down, son?" the woman with the mop slowly wiped the mud from the floor.
"First of all, I'm not a faggot, and secondly, Romuś isn't a faggot, he's a homosexual. And as for settling down, you know, Mom, women annoy me. They keep calling, trying to trap me, constantly controlling me, and they all want to have a brat with me. I'm too young and not fit to be a father, and besides, I still have time.
" "What about your friend Roman? You know that as soon as Grandpa hears that name, he has an asthma attack and seizures.
" "ROMAN! Fucking faggot again!" If I hear that gay name again, I'll..." Grandpa suddenly choked on his own hatred, and those gathered in the hallway heard a loud crash.
"Oh God, again!" The woman dropped the mop and ran into the room to save her father.
"Fucking gingerbread, when will he finally break..." A soft growl came from beneath the young man's light stubble.
"Zenek, come on, you know I can't lift Grandpa by myself!" The woman's desperate voice snapped the boy out of his reverie
. "I'm coming, I'm coming..." He threw his coat back on the chair and slowly walked over to his mother, who was wrestling with the trembling, heavily breathing Grandpa.
"Hold him under the arm, oh so well." They slowly lifted the sick man and began carrying him to the bed.
"You..." Grandpa paused to take a labored breath, and with even more difficulty, he finished the words.
"Fuck, you..., I'll disinherit the bastard..." the old man gasped with his last breath and lost consciousness.
When they finally laid him on the bed, his mother sat down heavily and began to sob.
"I can't stand this much longer, this is paranoia, son, I don't know what to do with you, I don't know anymore. I know! Don't stand here like an idiot and bring Grandpa some smelling salts, you old bum.
" "What did that bastard say? I'll disinherit him? He's an old, bloody idiot, I'll give him a hard time." "
Come on, bring those smelling salts! Are you deaf or something? Come on, bring them, you know where they are!" his mother's screams snapped the boy out of his reverie.
"Come on, come on!" he slowly walked to the dresser, and as he was taking them out of the drawer, he remembered that Grandpa undergoes comprehensive health checkups every six months, including psychiatric ones. Grandpa also included a clause that allowed him to make any changes to the will at any time, including donating his entire estate to the flood victims. "Fuck, I have to do something, or this madman will really disinherit me." He began to mutter quietly to himself again. "Please, Mom, here they are!"
"Oh my, grandpa, you were nervous for nothing," Zenek began sweetly as soon as he saw that Grandpa had recovered. "I wanted to surprise you. I've been dating a beautiful girl for a month now. I think I'm in love." His mother's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"What about Roman?" Grandpa gasped
. "What do you mean? I keep telling you that Romek and I are preparing for exams, and besides, we practice playing the organ together.
" "What?" Grandpa started turning blue again. "Get out of here, you faggot, GET OUT! Don't show yourself to me without a girlfriend!
" "I'm telling you, she's beautiful, a total goddess..." The boy quickly changed the subject, which calmed Grandpa
. "So maybe you could bring her to dinner on Sunday?" Zenek's mother picked up on the topic and started thinking about what she would wear to her only son's wedding.
"Let me sleep," Grandpa gasped, turning his back to the crowd in bed and falling asleep immediately.
"Come on, Mom, because Grandpa can't sleep. Okay, Mom, we'll come back next week!" – "Where the fuck am I going to find her?" – "Wait, wait, next week, I'm at her parents' for dinner." – "What the fuck am I saying, they'll burn me at the stake one day," Zenek thought fearfully, trying to figure out where to find the girl within the week.
"So maybe you could bring her next week?" – his mother didn't want to miss the opportunity to see his future daughter-in-law as soon as possible. "I'll prepare what you like best, Breton meatballs!"
– "Is this woman crazy? That's impossible, Romi promised me a good fuck after church." – the boy was sweating profusely, as he was running out of ideas on how to get rid of the old woman.
"Mom, you don't remember? I'm going with Romek to a shanty concert by the band Przystojni Sailors. I booked the tickets six months ago.
" "Oh, right, I forgot, so what, should I expect her for dinner next time?
" "Yes, of course, Mom, and now I have to go because Romek will start training without me." "And he'll smell so wonderful when he sweats again." Zenek was already sweating at the thought of falling back into the arms of his muscular intellectual – as he sometimes affectionately called him.
Another week passed, and Zenon couldn't find the right girl for him. Maybe it was because he spent too much time at Roman's, and then everything hurt and he couldn't walk. But what can you do for love? Actually, he didn't know when he fell in love with this brute. At first, they were just friends, but when Romek began his fantastic discourses on the meaning of existence and the superiority of existence over nonexistence, Zenon increasingly spent the night at his friend's. Romek had another fantastic quality that thrilled Zenon to no end. It was his ability to speak Polish, of course. Romek was working on his doctorate in Polish studies at the Jagiellonian University, and he possessed such a vocabulary that Zenon's stomach would get wet listening to his discourse on erections. At first, there were endless conversations about various important philosophical issues, but then Romek began to grow closer and closer to Zenon, who, feeling dominated both physically and mentally, slowly gave in.
"Nobody loves me, everyone spits on me," Zosia said into the bottom of her glass. It was already late, and she had to go to work in the morning, not to mention walking home from the pub.
"Another Bloody Mary, bartender!" she shouted to the man standing about 50 centimeters away.
"Please don't shout, I'd gladly give you everything on the shelf, but as far as I know, you're out of money, and we don't give out alcohol on the line.
" "A small loan, please... It might be interest-bearing." Zofia simply wanted to get drunk, because sober, she couldn't bear the thought of another married man leaving her after their second date. "Just a small one, please, tiny one." "
I'm sorry, but we don't give out loans," the bartender was adamant. Suddenly, someone behind the girl said,
"Bartender, two Bloody Marys, for me and this beautiful lady." A guy dressed in a leather jacket sat down next to Zosia, kissed her hand, and said,
"I'd be honored if you'd join me for a drink.
" "Of course, I'd love to." Zosia blushed slightly, straightened, and adjusted her dress.
"Hello, Mr. Zenon," said the bartender; he knew him from frequenting the same nightclubs.
"I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Zenon
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