Direction to the ass (Robert Fico X Peter Pellegrini)

Fast and furious away from the Tatras

Fico! FICO! RUN! THERE ARE MORE JOURNALISTS HERE! SAVE YOURSELF! THEY'VE ALREADY GOT PETER NEXT IN THE LINE!” Danko shouted as he ran around furiously.

“THEY CAUGHT PETER?! YOU FUCK! I'M GOING TO GET HIM!"

"ROBERT HAVE YOU GOT CRAZY?!"

“BUT SHIT! I'M NOT CALLED A KILLER OF JOURNALISTS FOR NOTHING!"

Danko stopped and stared at me with his mouth open. I shoved the keys to my Mercedes into his hand.

"Start and come forward! I'll be there in a minute!"

I ran after Peter. I had only one thought in my head: I must not lose him now!

Andrej Danko:

I stood there as if scalded with the keys to Fico's Mercedes. A voice suddenly came from behind me.

"Andrei, is that you?" It was Harabin. But this time he wasn't cold.

"Man, what the hell are you doing here?!"

"Well, I found a free room up there, so I just stayed here."

"Just like that?" Harabin nodded. This week was supposed to be relaxing. So far, I feel like I'm going to collapse and have a heart attack at any moment. I took Harabin by the shoulders and led him to the car.

"Sit here and above all don't do anything here" I said to Harabin (because I knew what a demented person he was).

Pelle:

I was lying on the floor in the bathroom leaning against the door. So far, the journalists have chatted in my room. I don't know if this is even legal, they came here like an emergency squad. Could we have called the police? They could. But considering how many types of snuff our colleagues brought here, it probably wouldn't be a good idea. That's when I heard a knock on the bathroom window. It was Robert and he was climbing the rope.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Shut up and get down before those journalist pussies figure it out. I took a few off on the way to the roof, but-"

"WHAT??!!!" There was no time for more questions. I climbed onto the rope and began to lower myself. Fico had his steel rod behind his belt, which was covered in blood for some reason. When we finally got down , so we ran into the back of Fico's car, where Harabin greeted us with curses (I kind of knocked him over in my haste).

Danko stepped on the gas and we drove. Fico was sitting, I was lying on the still pissed Harabin.

"Can you please take your fat ass off me?"

"Shut up Stefan, Peter's ass is anything but fat!" Fico called out.

"Guys, I think whether one of you has a fat ass or not is the last thing you should be arguing about!" Danko yelled at us.

"If you think Peter's ass is fat, then let Peter get on Robert." I gradually moved from Harabin to Robert's lap. The police were driving towards us.

You bastards.

January 1, 4:30 in the morning

Colonel Vopršálek - homicide department

Well, I've probably never seen this before. Never in my entire life. It was still fine outside, but inside... We were walking through a luxury resort. There were people on the ground floor. They were either drunk or drugged. There were also people rolling on the stairs to the first floor. Some dead, some stunned for a change. Someone hit them in the head with something, that was for sure. We reached the first floor. We found several open rooms here, but the most destroyed one was at the end of the corridor. When we got there, some more people staggered out. No one was dead in the room, but there was a mess again for a change and... Lots of cum.

"Shit, someone was simulating a fountain here, right?!"

We climbed onto the balcony which was at the back of the hotel. We looked down. Two corpses. One was punched in the head again, the other was shot in the head. Whatever happened here, I was determined to figure it out.

Stefan Harabin:

"Come on, you overheated buzzards, stop staring at each other like you're going to run over each other at any moment." This time I wasn't drunk. I meant what I said. They were both starting to screw me over here. My New Year's plan was instead I'm sitting here in the car and we're not even drunk. Andrej was driving at a pace as if we were in Germany. I stared at Pelle for a while and then I got suspicious.

"Pelle, aren't you one of those rainbow fascists who came to destroy our traditional family?" For a long time now, you've seemed to me to only be attracted to men. Why don't you have a woman at all?! Why has no one ever seen you around a woman?!"

,,Excuse me! After all, I'm a socialist!" Pelle suddenly objected sharply.

"Well, I noticed how you socialize! You're sitting on Robert the whole way here!" Pelle blushed. He suddenly got off Robert.

"So I was right! You bastard, how could you?!” I was rightfully upset.

"Andrej, stop. STOP TALKING! I'M NOT GOING TO BREAK OUT OF THIS!"

"It won't stop anywhere," answered Andrej.

"What are you-"

"THERE WILL BE NO BUILDING ANYWHERE. DOT."

“WHAT IF PELLE SEXUALLY ATTACKS ME, HUH?! Hmm?!"

"WHAT THEY SHOULD BREAK YOU, I DON'T CARE!" With that, Andrej cut off all debate. We continued driving along the highway. There were only a few tens of kilometers left to Bratislava. I was already pissed off. I climbed into the front passenger seat. Andrej from he wasn't very enthusiastic about it. I found a kind of partition that separates the front part of the car. I pulled it so that I couldn't see them anymore. At least until we arrived in Bratislava.

Evening

I was sitting alone at home in my apartment. I thought. About everything, about what happened. I had nothing to do so I turned on the news.

"Police of the Slovak Republic are solving the case of massive murder of journalists in a luxury resort in the Tatras. The journalists were allegedly killed by someone hitting the head with a stick with a hard object, with one exception, who was supposed to be killed by a gunshot wound to the head. The number of victims ranges from twenty to forty people. According to Police spokesman Josef Vomáčka, there should have been a high amount of drugs and alcohol at the same time. We will keep you informed about the situation. We wish you a pleasant evening. And now for sports! At the world championships-"

I turned off the TV. Whore.