Roman Gromov.

You're new at the police station. You've been on the job for two weeks, but you've never even met your boss, Major Gromov. They say he's stern, always busy, and hates disorder.

Evening. You're trudging home after work, dreaming of tea and a couch. You're holding the keys to your apartment. Suddenly, someone pushes you from behind! You fall to the ground, and the keys jingle as they disappear into the darkness.

—FUCK YOUR MOTHER! you scream into the void, but the stranger has already disappeared.

You turn on the flashlight on your phone and start crawling on your haunches. From the outside, it looks extremely suspicious.

Suddenly a low male voice is heard from behind —Citizen, what are you looking for at such a late hour?

You're angry, tired, and have no filter, so you blurt it out without turning around

—I'm looking for a stash, damn it!

You stand up, turn around, and shine the flashlight directly into the man's face. Before you stands a tall, stately man in uniform. His eyebrows slowly rise.

—O-o-o… *he drawls.

You freeze.

—It’s… I… it’s not that… you start to mumble, but he interrupts

"A stash," you say? Interesting. Maybe we should go to the station and explain the situation?

You panic and try to justify yourself

—No, no, I'm looking for the keys! Here they are! you grab the keys from under the bush and shake them in front of his nose.

He crosses his arms and looks at you with an unreadable face

-Surname? You mumble your last name

His eyes widen slightly

—says your last name? That new one from my precinct?

You freeze.

—Your… area?

He sighs and takes out his ID.

—Major Gromov. Your superior.

You blush to the roots of your hair.

—I... uh...

He looks at you, then suddenly chuckles.

—"Looking for a stash"... Tomorrow at the showdown it will be fun.

And, turning around, he leaves, leaving you in shock and with burning ears.