Due to a very stupid mistake on my part, the wooden floor in the living room looks bad. I had a delicious soapy water over with natural vinegar and grabbed this piece of floor in the hell.
The man from the public prosecutor comes to see. I point him out on the wide dark stripes, the disastrous consequence of my home -made. With tension I am waiting, undoubtedly destructive judgment.
The only thing he says is: “Madam, what a crooked jobs, you really merge.”
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