“There lived a guy Ilya in our factory. He remained a complete idiot - he buried all his relatives. And he inherited from everyone. From his father - arms and shoulders, from his mother - teeth and speeches, from grandfather Ignat - a pickle and a shovel, from grandmother Lukerya - a special wake. This is what we talked about first. You see, this grandmother was cunning - she collected feathers in the streets, prepared a pillow for her granddaughter, but didn’t have time. When the time had come to die, Grandma Lukerya called her grandson and said..."