Since there was a lot of smoking at the party, Vova's head was splitting.
"Where is John?" he suddenly asked.
"Went with some old man to the airport," the answer was.
Tim slept under the table.
"Hurry up, we're going to the airport!" Vova woke him up with a push.
"Why?"
"A snakeskin belt and twenty bucks!"
There were only two planes on the airfield. They ran across the airfield towards the first plane.
"Stop! Where are you going?" yelled a hefty sergeant, but having received a foot in his head he fell on concrete slabs.
"What is the destination for this plane?" Vova asked a stewardess.
"to Magadan," the answer was.
"And that one?"
"to New York."
"John should definitely fly to Magadan," Vova said after thinking a little, pushed her away and went on the board.
"Vova is never wrong," Tim thought and followed him.