Emotions rule

They tried to ask the cute Yves, but nobody answered the doorbell. Luckily, within a minute they bumped into a German lady who happened to be a colleague of theirs, an English teacher! How good of her to offer them a lift to the clubbing district.

The club they chose incredibly sucked. How could they choose the worst club ever in the partying paradise of Berlin clubbing stage? They should’ve asked someone for recommendations or at least read 10 tips to go clubbing in Berlin article in the net. Instead, they stood on the almost empty dance floor, with the music they couldn’t properly move to unless you were high like Johnny Depp’s character in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

Some two German chaps approached the ladies and disappointed them as soon as they opened their mouths to speak. Either they were stupidly boring or programmed on a one-night stand small talk. Perhaps both. As if just being there empty-headed but gel-haired would make any girl open her thighs. Do you get horny by looking at a good hair-style and a dumb face? Perhaps sometimes you do. But the girls felt otherwise. That night the Russian trio just wanted to dance the whole night away, to feel their bodies uncontrollably moving to good tunes, meet some pleasant company and stay tuned into the pleasant reality, not get wasted right away with unpredictable consequences, didn’t they? Was it really the adventure they wanted? Or maybe a bit more sensible one?

The ambiance disappointed them. The hyper mood evaporated. And the girls decided not to lose time with the boring male company in the wrongly-chosen club and head home instead and get some sleep before their first day at the language school. If only they knew the way back to their new home. At least, they remembered the name of the street, the district, and the Berlin TV tower they saw from their window. So there couldn’t be a big problem. Three hints would help them to find their way.

On their way back the ladies were making their way through the jolly partying youngsters. Unexpectedly they bumped into two bright-faced Brits. What luck after all! A surely better way to finish the day! Why is it always two specimens of the opposite sex to three of another kind? Not that the girlies were eager to jump in bed with them that very night, but still, who knows, how charming a man might be and how weak a girl might appear under the magic spell of a good-looking experienced womanizer.

In a second five of them were sitting outdoors in some pub learning new swear words in English, British English, to be precise. After vigorous negotiations over some drinks, the ladies concluded that the grossest and funniest one was a purple-headed monster.

Although, at first, Katya was obliged to ask, ‘Who is it?’

‘Rather WHAT than WHO… It’s a penis, honey!’ retorted Yulya sipping her Dry Martini.

Katya gave a thoughtful smile and then burst out laughing. Thank God no such reaction repeated after the words ‘twat’, ‘knob head’, ‘wanker’, ‘bollocks’, ‘bugger’, and so on.

‘Well, I learnt my first swear words in English when I was five, I remember it vividly,’ chuckled David, one of the Brits, ‘my Mum used to work as a bartender, so I spent some of my childhood in bars,’ he began his story gulping his beer, ‘you can imagine what kind of language I heard in those bars. Most of them were quite clear to me, so I never asked what they meant. And only one-word combination really puzzled me, though it consisted of sorta decent words.’

‘The old boy always tells this story to everyone. No shit, it impressed him greatly at that age,’ the other Brit addressed the Russian trio with bored but amusing eyes.

‘Funny fart really left my brains puzzled. Since I always asked my Granny questions as she was the only one willing to answer them. All of my whys and whats she’d answer with a smile. The day I asked her what funny fart meant was the last day I spent time in bars. From then on she babysat me all the time,’ finished David.

‘And did she tell you what funny fart meant?’ wondered Katya also feeling herself like the puzzled five-year-old David.

‘She didn’t. She just said I would learn it when the right time came,’ chuckled David.

Tanya watched Katya’s unsatisfied face expression and stepped on the latter’s foot when Blondie uttered again, ‘And what is this f-?’

‘Excuse us for a moment,’ said Tanya to the guys and addressed Blondie with a wink, ‘Come with me to the ladies room.’

As they reached the toilets, Tanya said with a grand smile, ‘Honey, you don’t go around hinting everyone that you are a virgin.’

‘What? I wasn’t hinting anyone. What did I do wrong?’ asked Katya perplexed.

‘You were going to ask those two men what funny fart was, hel-lo?’ Tanya reminded her.

‘And? What is this damn funny fart? I have no idea, so I asked,’ Katya defended herself.

‘Damn, Katya, funny fart is the sound of the air escaping from the vagina when having sex. It’s like a burp from out there. Got it?’ Tanya explained with a look of an expert.

‘Eew,’ the voiced air escaped Katya’s mouth, ‘Thanks. I would’ve felt embarrassed hearing this from those two chaps. And, anyway, if I weren’t a virgin, I would not know what this is, cuz we don’t have such an expression in Russian. I wonder why you know it in English.’

‘I heard it in some TV series, I think,’ Tanya explained herself.

‘Tell me, if this funny fart is..? I mean, does this creepy fart happen all the time when having sex?’ wondered Blondie with a worrying look.

‘Hell, no, sometimes, depends on your vagina muscles though,’ Tanya was to explain again, ‘Mostly mamas have those funny farties as they have given birth already, so their muscles are pretty loose.’

‘Damn, I have to learn a lot. Keep me informed,’ Katya pleaded, letting that funny fart topic drop, ‘let’s go back I will keep my mouth shut and just listen.’

Chapter 2

Beforehand, in the plane, the trio had talked over their new household routine, now they were to practice it. Being students, having not much money to give away, though sponsored by their parents, the girls decided to see a bit of Europe so they were not to lavish on eating out but spend money on train fares getting around. Thus, they were to do shopping in supermarkets, cook themselves. Each of them had even brought a kilo of buckwheat from Moscow, pretty cheap corn back home.

Being an early bird and responsible as a Soviet comrade, Katya was supposed to be the first to get up, have a shower, wake everyone up, and cook buckwheat.

Humming Guten Morgen, Sonnenschein, Blondie stepped into the kitchen with a red-towel dress around her waist. She was surprised to see Tanya sitting at the table with a notebook, pencil behind her ear, a stab in her right hand. Boiling buckwheat blobs could be made out in the background.

‘Wow, is anything wrong? You’re an early bird today,’ said Blondie as her morning greetings.

‘Everything’s cool. Just after yesterday’s British vibes am in the mood of speaking BBC accent. Am actually trying to remember the tongue twisters we played with at our Phonetic classes. I just adore them,’ Tanya finished her speech and tried to have a drag, but there was just a filter left.

The red-toweled girl sat beside and started reading, ‘Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,’ she began aspirating the ‘p’s and ‘k’s sounds, but the voice from the bedroom finished the tongue twister for her, ‘blah-blah, Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?’ yelled Yulya with the BBC accent as well, ‘Make up your own tongue twister, Tanushka, I’m fed up with the old ones!’

‘Yup, good idea, try with the word fuck, f sound,’ suggested Katya standing up and let out her usual, ‘Oh, how I hate this smoke, smoking cows,’ she looked at Tanya with reproach and headed to get dressed.

‘As promised, I smoke out of the window. That makes it one cow,’ protested the red-haired Yulya as she passed to the washroom with her pointing finger drawn vertically along her freckled nose, a yellow towel in her other hand.

As Yulya stepped out of the steaming washroom with her pink face, a yellow towel on her head sponging her hair, she heard Tanya thoughtfully pronouncing, ‘Wait, wait, let me read it all over again,’ and she began monotonously,

‘Phil the fucker fucked the fluffy fannies of funny females

If Phil the fucker fucked the funny females with fluffy fannies,

Where’s the fuck-’

‘Has all the fluffiness from fucking gone?’ finished Blondie triumphantly as she placed the last plate on the table, ‘have a seat, ladies, breakfast is ready!’

‘I like it. Yulya, have a listen!’ began Tanya turning to Yulya.

‘Eeeeww, I’ve heard it all, gross, disgusting, you are perverts! Don’t read it ever again, chew up that paper and swallow it. And never ever repeat these lines,’ said Yulya with her theatrically disgusted lemon face expression and went to the wardrobe to get dressed.

‘C’mon, don’t be a nun! We are just practicing sounds. Don’t dwell too much on the meaning!’ Tanya defended her masterpiece with a crooked smile.

‘Gee, you know, I visualize everything. How can I not make a meaning, if words bear one? You created your own meaning. Yuk, let’s change the subject,’ said Yulya sitting down in her jeans shorts; a green tank top matching her green eyes.

‘Ok, let’s take another word. How about a cunt?’ Tanya did try to change the subject.

‘G’od, take a good word, why a bad one?’ proposed the Red-haired’s plump lips.

‘Clumsy cunt couldn’t contact,’ Katya blurted out holding her cup of coffee before her mouth and had a sip, ‘Fuck, I just burnt my tongue.’

‘What can I say? Be careful next time, silly, it’s karma. You’ve joined me in my bad-word tongue twisting,’ exclaimed Tanya with the voice of a ghost and added, ‘A damn quick computer you have in your head, by the way.’ Fringe instantly wondered, ‘But why could it NOT contact? Cuz it was clumsy?’

‘Could not BUT contact, choose any variant,’ said Katya as-matter-of-factly.

‘Will you two, please, stop this yuckiness! Though, I must admit, you are quite good at making up. Maybe you just switch your imagination into a good-words mode?’ suggested Yulya with a funny look of despair chewing her spoonful of buckwheat.