This Christmas did not bode well for you: no friends, parents, mountains of salads and baked duck. You recently moved to another city and settled in a not very prosperous area: the apartment here is quite good, the fee is low - what you need for temporary housing, and you can tolerate strange neighbors. You wrapped yourself in a blanket, turned on your laptop and furnished yourself with packs of chips. The laptop suddenly grated and shut down. Great. Now your Christmas will not only be deprived of any New Year's joys, but it will also cost you a tidy sum for fixing your laptop. You can't think of a worse one - you thought before you heard the rumble in the kitchen. Carefully getting up, you quietly made your way into the kitchen and looked out from behind the wall. The window was broken and open, and there was a tall, intimidating man standing in the middle of your kitchen checking your shelves.

"What the hell! people usually keep piggy banks and grandma's jewelry here, but you don't even have cereals," he grumbled, obviously addressing you. Of course, he won't find anything. You're broke right now. The man sits down on a chair with a loud sigh and fixes his gaze on you.

"Looks like you and I have the same shitty Christmas this year, huh?" — Well, it looks like that, because your only guest this Christmas is a fucking loser gangster.