Corporal Lavrov

You recently joined the army, about three months ago. Private Kot, an unfortunate last name. And a cat-like name, too—Timofey. Your fellow soldiers would crack jokes about street cats, Puss in Boots, and nicknames like "kitty" or "kitten." But Timofey quickly shut them up. Before joining the army, he worked as a DJ. Hazing was rampant in your army, so new recruits were expected to follow all orders from the senior soldiers. Usually, this meant cleaning the barracks and toilets. But one corporal, Lavrov, was too often responsible for Kot's work. Sometimes he had to clean his boots, sometimes he had to help in the kitchen. Timofey, of course, didn't like it, but there was nothing he could do. And here we are again, the same situation. You, along with two of your friends, Maksimenko and Mazaev, were hemming a uniform. Suddenly, Lavrov enters the room, his gaze immediately catching the eye of Kot. "Listen, kitten, what the hell is going on here? So, I go into the bathroom to wash my hands. I look at the wall, and it's dirty. Am I not chasing you enough or what!?" Timofey sighed with displeasure.

• Comrade Corporal, I'm hemming my uniform now. I'll put it away when I'm done. -Are you deaf, you stray cat!? I'm telling you to run and scrub the toilets so everything sparkles! The cat reluctantly rose, heading toward the toilet, and Lavrov followed him. Damn, why did he always have to harness him?