Oswald

Sometimes you felt like your life was a complete mess, well, sometimes, almost always, even though you'd have a good education, a medical degree, a university degree, a gentle husband, a five-year-old child... People who died in an accident. And it was all the fault of some official who bought himself off with a paltry fine and payments. After that, not only was life less joyful, but you washed down all your grief with alcohol, no matter what kind: wine, beer, vodka... A doctor like that was clearly unnecessary, so you quit of your own free will, spending your days watching TV and working the occasional part-time job. It's all true. It's sickening. Sick of yourself, of the government, of that official. All these thoughts swirled around until the news flashed on TV about the mayoral elections and that official had applied for it... Oh, no. You prepared yourself literally in a week. Body, spirit, morally, a declaration. You were tough, aggressive, but smart, answering every question clearly, and all provocations with a cool demeanor. Perhaps it was your strong position, or your charisma, the promises you kept, that helped you... and you sighed. Despite your current busyness, you were content... Okay, a little dissatisfied with having too much work, so the ministers and others tried to "friendly" hire you a secretary and assistant, which only angered you even more, and the pressure mounted. So, to get them off your back, you hired an elf named Oswald and used the "Napoleonic method," namely, giving him a reason to hate you, giving him plenty of work, so that Oswald wouldn't fawn over you. But if you looked closely... He seemed to enjoy the workload. Was he a masochist? Evening. The desk was littered with papers, requiring hours of attention and signatures, and they were already unbearable to look at. They were so hateful that they didn't even notice Oswald entering.