(Copyright reserved by a notary. This is so ... for those who like to carry someone else's.)

“Vlad,” Inga’s voice broke off his thoughts and made him raise his head, “Vlad Dzarovsky, answer, please, what are you thinking now?”
Weird question. Considering that the person to whom he was asked yesterday turned thirty-five years old and the number on the clock was 8.00. Naturally, he was thinking about a dream. Rather, that would be happy to sleep another five or six hours, at least. But instead, Vlad tried to open his eyes wider and languidly replied:
- About you, dear.

Inga quite smiled, and Dzarovsky received a cup of coffee with cream and a couple of toasts to boot. Probably, this is happiness when you are given coffee for a couple of insignificant words and are fed with toast.
- Where are you going now? - as if by the way my wife asked
Quiet deceptive indifference did not pass unnoticed by the sensitive Polish nose. In the end, Inga Dzarovskaya, you knew very well for whom you marry. You married a stuntman, and five years ago you liked it terribly, you showed off to all your girlfriends your fiancé. And now you suddenly wanted to turn it into an office plankton. It will not work, dear.
Vlad with all the strength of his sleepy will suppressed the nascent irritation.

- To the Pacific Ocean. Our assholes decided to outdo Hollywood and take off their Jaws
- For a long time? - it wasn’t even Inga who asked, her tense back expressed.
Vlad realized that it was starting to smell like kerosene, if not to say that it was completely rotten, but he answered honestly:
- I don’t know yet, the director said that at least two months.
Inga’s ignition was enviable, and Dzarovsky realized that a scandal would break out now. Like after the shooting of the last action movie, when he lain for two weeks in the hospital with broken ribs. The financiers, psya krev, saved them by car and slipped such firewood to him ... Where the brakes, to the stump of their hair, refused at the most inopportune moment. True, the director sobbed with happiness - the frame was really worthy of an Oscar, if Sandra Bullock had not bypassed them earlier in Speed.
And to quench the tension, Vlad suddenly said:
- And come with me. I will agree with the team. Just imagine: the port city, the sea from all sides, Japanese cars. Exotic.
He saw his wife's shoulders relaxed, she turned, her face expressed the work of thought, she even lifted her eyebrows, despite the fact that wrinkles were formed from this.
- No, it will not work. I have reporting soon, and if I get stuck there with your sharks, I will be fined. Drive yourself.
Well, myself, so myself. But, dear ...
- Dzarovsky, are you sick? - Inga whispered, when his fingers burst into her black shiny hair.
“A reasonable question,” Vlad answered in the same whisper, “given that his wife asks his husband, and that this same husband leaves for two months.”
Yes, you leave this dish. Before my arrival you have time to wash it to shine.
“Dzarovsky,” Inga moaned softly, “do you know that I hate you?” For what you do to me?
- I know, dear. You would know how I like to do it.

In the plane the group was loaded fun. With taste. The screenwriter, looking like a dog into everyone's eyes, begged only one thing: without amateur performances on the set. Vasi Komogortsev's immortal creation from the city of Kryzhopl should have left an indelible mark on the history of Russian cinematography. In response, the actors mildly sent a screenwriter for the mother and fun uncorked brandy.
“Dzarovsky,” Gorbunov’s rolling voice (the first male role, the face value of Vlad) covered two hundred and twenty take-off decibels.
Vlad of purely Polish obstinacy hesitated for five minutes and approached the acting group. Who said that stuntmen don't drink? Very drunk. In a good company, especially at the expense of others.Moreover, they made peace with Inga. A full three times to for sure. For this, Vlada was fed lunch and kissed on the track.
“Hey, stuntman,” Gorbunov was already breathing in his old-fashioned fume, “have you seen the second member actress?” A third year student?
- Is that what your bride plays according to the script?
- She, - the actor proudly straightened his shoulders, - count up, she gathered to play without a stunt. Ah, I envy white envy.
Not understood. Not, in Russian, everything is clear, please translate into the language of the mossy ancestors. Che for crap, the director? Vlad rose from his seat and headed to the tail of the plane, where the camera crew was sitting.

“Pyotr Sergeevich,” he began firmly, “I warned you that bed scenes are not included in my contract?”
The director sighed doom and tried to take a defensive position, standing right in front of the stuntman. It turned out to be quite difficult; an unserious growth and a bulging belly hindered him.
- Warned. And then?
- A che Gorbunov envies me? Che, he tells everyone about the fact that I should replace him somewhere out there?
Pyotr Sergeevich tried soothingly to pat the stuntman on the shoulder, but did not reach out. At the very height of barely one hundred and seventy reached, Vlad has far over a hundred and eighty passed.

- Well, Gorbunov can say anything to you. Have you read your contract for a long time?
Somewhere around here, Dzarovsky sensed an ambush, but did not yet understand where. The contract was read three times, I did not find anything unusual. Standard type language is the substitution of actors in scenes that directly threaten the life and health of the performers.
- And the script? - the director did not let up.
Vlad mentally shrugged. And the script read. Che was there to read something? "Jaws" - they are in Africa "Jaws".
- And scene number 280? - clearly, this bastard enjoyed. - Here go and reread.
And since it was almost in the evening, and there was absolutely nothing to do, the stuntman went to re-read the script. Namely - the notorious scene number 280.

“Irina and Pavel are yachts naked on the deck. Pavel gently holds Irina’s chest with one hand, she groans and gives him a body to meet. The second hand, he passionately wraps her hips, holding them tightly "

Hmm, here Dzarovsky was seriously puzzled by the execution of this acrobatic trick. Maybe the director meant exactly that?

“Suddenly the yacht is shaken by a blow directed from below. (Author's note: if you don’t make travel sharks, I’ll sell jaws on a lenfilm). Irina rolls to the port side, Pavel tries to hold her (Author's note: close-up of tight biceps). She grabs her fingers on the railing and screams loudly (author's note: here would be an actress the size of a fourth, but I do not insist):
- Save-and-and me, Pasha. Remember, I love you-II. I waited for you with the army, I kept you loyalty. Save me, Pasha. (remark of the author: there would be ammonia for large tears right here, but, again, I do not insist).
Paul is trying to pull her out. With a titanic effort (author's note: damn it, pick an actor with biceps) he tries to pull her out of the water:
- Hold on tight, love.

A sharp jerk up (author's note: some tragic music like the Lonely Shepherd of Maricon would not hurt here), and only the upper part of Irina falls onto the deck. She is still alive, he is fascinated by how blood is rapidly filling the deck (author's note: do not try to use cherry syrup, this is no longer relevant).
The water around the boat gets a reddish tint. Looking around the sea with a mad look, Pavel notices another fin of an approaching shark (author's remark: I hope that there will be two sharks after all). He doesn’t have time for meditation, and he throws out the right (author’s remark: please don’t confuse, sad events are connected with the left board) the upper half of the beloved’s body (author’s remark: we can do without farewell kisses, we’re not in Hollywood), distracting this is the second cannibal.
Suddenly, the deck under his feet splits, and with the opening a huge shark's head is shown (note of the author: huge - this means huge, this adjective has no other interpretations). This is a shark ...