On The Wings of Hope : Prose

It’s clearly visible how a group of company’s representatives, still hiding behind a small metal facade, is desperately and with heart-rending cries tries to bash entrance door, but desperately rushing officials, who have previously managed to enter the building, prevent other of their kind from entering. Those losers, who haven’t been able to get inside, are being shelled from incoming army with double force - some of them have already simply tumbled down on the earth, have put a paper package on their heads and started actively clattering the ground with free feet.

By all means it’s obvious that both a strategic and tactical advantage has been on a side of copyright-marasmus opponents for a long time already.

- Indeed, Vladimir, we as well as our spectators are now enjoying this really epic battle of copy-writers with copy-lefters, creators versus parasites, supporters of freedom of intellectual property against anal-creative-slavery! Such a scale, such a heat! I truly wonder whether this finally happened and God himself has heard our prayers ... what do you think, Vladimir?  Vladimir, wait a moment, what are you doing ?

Camera change foreshortening once again, and it becomes obvious how Vladimir from Brussels pushes hands in his bag, and with a malicious grin on his face takes out a recently purchased package, filled with eggs, swings his arm with all possible strength and throws one egg in an aperture of one of windows, where during this very instant of time one of immoderately scared representatives of intellectual parasitism is running. Whether due to the good luck of Vladimir-of-Brussels or due to bad luck of unknown copyright-idiot, thrown egg falls just under the feet of running representative, and he with eyes full of horror and mouth desperately screaming plops down a floor, still continuing his crazy movement in a pose “hugging a floor, physiognomy downwards”. Televiewers have a unique chance to overhear the rest of his exclamation: “... And our eggs are iron!” and this very moment a joyful-boyish shout of Vladimir-the-correspondent blocks all the noise: “Y-y-y-y-e-e-e-s-s-s! Top ten!” Televiewers are able to notice, how happily he raises his hands upwards and gives a salute - and then camera change foreshortening once more and we can behold his face in a full size - and this time he looks like a rural cat, who have just secretly consumed entire grandmother’s tub with sour cream.

- Have you seen that? Take it, beasts! For Internet, for creativity, for democracy, damn it! - the face of correspondent continues to shout.

- Vladimir, how much I do envy you now! - the face of TV presenter responds in turn. - You have practically implemented my dreamboat of a childhood! Or maybe a dreamcar, doesn’t matter! How do you guess, can we name it as ...

- A Copyright-Armageddon! - correspondent Vladimir-Voldemar interrupts him before he can finish. - It has finally come!