WHO: Mr. Ion, Mr. Braginsky, Homicidal Witch, Hak Soo
WHEN: Jan 1
WHERE: Mr. Braginsky's House
WHAT: A dinner in honour of the first day of the year goes awry.
RATING: Uh. If you're bothered by incest, suicide jokes, or poison...?
(
Here's the story, of a man named Braginsky )
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As Ivan imagined himself tearing apart a piece of beef with his molars, his eyes fixated on the upside-down, distorted figure of his sister bending in the curvatures of the vodka bottle. He knew that if any hand came within two meters of it, he would flip his spoon upside-down and drive the point of the handle into their wrist until it broke skin. There was something suspicious about none of them going beyond dipping their spoons in the ruby red concoction. The spoons drowned idly into the borscht, and Ivan thought for a moment that maybe Natalia and he had messed up the recipe. She looked absolutely ghastly with fingers covered in beet juice, staining like blood that she washed out only after leaving hand prints on a pair of khakis Ivan had to change out of before dinner.
It was painfully quiet.
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