"Генерал-майор в шинели громко плакал в докладной: террористы...

“The Major General in his overcoat cried loudly in the memo: the terrorists were fucking, there is no clue. They got devices — an internet connection, a secret chat. And try to guess who they are talking about. Wherever you go, the code is everywhere. Neither master keys or Keys. Only a car of Arabic numerals! And it’s unclear who! I’ll catch the bandits? There are no leads if Aslan Mahmoud sends an encrypted package. We’d have the same tools! So we could: check the documents, assign patrols, and show up with witnesses - all on the site face to the floor. Who is? Registration? Name? How d Avno came here? Addresses of friends and relatives? What's in your pockets, e-mine? Where's the box with the correspondence? Get out, read it ... Holmes era ended with the advent of the network! We are powerless! We give up! How can we lead the investigation? It is difficult for us to work very! Not enough important measures! We need more authority. All admins, for example. There is no openness! Indicators are at zero! That would be to prohibit Internet networks all over the earth! Well, you understand, this is important! Here is a memo sheet ... And I blew into camouflage wet handkerchief. And his report was so sincere, so pure, that journalists nodded. And then hell happened.

Like an extinct volcano, Holmes, who is Sherlock, came to the mouth of the sea water. And broke his pussies. Got up like a ghost from the grave, from the Baker Street Museum. “Oh, you yobany asshole!” He says to the cockney. “I've crawled all my life with a magnifying glass! Under rain! In shit! In dirt! Pick up your prick and make up with the buttons! You have no clues? Oh you fucking pidaras! And bills ?! And the tickets ?! Heaps of electronic databases ?! You also write tracks honeycomb, where they wore the phone! Bitch, fuck, go work! Displeased, bitch, he! I was looking for traces of hands! You zazhralis, shame! You have there clusters of cameras watching from each pillar! Who and with whom went to entrances! Who drove the highway! Who, where, how many went - with numbers, bitch, everything! Your people are like children: three times a day without days off they post photos in the social network - google at least them! Your provider everyone sees on any of the huts, who then shook from the citizens: pornoghab or jihad! Fuck, he doesn't work well! A lot of numbers! Age is not the same! I would be so in my era, fucked idiot! Look, they sit in cabinets and grow fat on the bottom! Too much internet! A terrible uncomfortable world! Than to introduce fighters to gangsters, but to learn the language of Farsi, he sits to himself, he fucks! The ciphers fucking carry him! What will we ask for tomorrow? Fuck, give two! Microphones in the ass people? The key to the thoughts in my head? Fuck, to return such constables to us on the ground from the cinema can only be a severe fucking and dunking in shit. You have absolutely nothing to do! In the ass, soot, fucking, burning! ”Sherlock Holmes, having finished his speech, flew away to Baker Street.

Major General wiped God's dew with a handkerchief: if everyone agrees, period, I carry the project. And our department has more important things to do: we’ll get a case on Holmes so that a lot of things won't go. "(C) is not mine