A Mercedes runs a red light, and a Zaporozhets runs into it. The driver of the Mercedes crawls looking thuggish with a finger-thick golden chain, goes up to the Zaporozhets where sits an intelligent bespectacled driver, and asks politely:

• Bro, how's yourself? All good? Not dying?

The spooked driver of the Zaporozhets:

• No
• You sure? Doesn't hurt anywhere?
• Not really, nothing seems to hurt...
• Well that's good. Let's go estimate the market value of your apartment.