The dirt road, along which Abnormal Things slowly moved in the pitch darkness, was completely mottled with wide shallow pits filled with broken bricks, pieces of adobe blocks, parts of window frames and some planks. With this construction waste, people living in private houses along the road tried in vain to even out the potholes, but very quickly large pieces of filler were thrown out from there by the wheels of passing cars, mopeds, bicycles, and wheelbarrows.

Little by little fragments of brick and adobe that had flown out of the pits disappeared "no one knows where," and the country road took on almost the same form that it had before trying to repair it. As a result, passers-by routinely circled the pits along the edges, approaching almost close to the fences and garages on both sides of the dirt road.

Bath that headed the unusual procession did exactly the same: carefully looking at the narrow edges of wide potholes, she, giving a strong roll, tried in every possible way to avoid passing through the sharp debris of stones and fragments of the frames studded with rusty nails. "If I pierce the tire here now, neither the young technician who attached the wheels, nor the Repair Shop that has become too small, nor Fridge that can not hold the three, even if Washing Machine and I can climb on top of Sideboard, will not help me."

Sneaking on a flat surface and dodging at the sight of stones and boards, Bath gradually moved forward, and a friend standing on her sides, clutching with her hands-hoses to the curved edges that served her as a support, easily kept her balance. On the deepest potholes, her copper cymbals quietly tinkled, eventually waking the dogs dozing in the yards. One of them, the old shepherd, was about to announce the quiet night street with a furious bark, but, clinging to the wicket rods, she became stunned and numb with surprise.

In a daze, watching the gigantic technical devices, which she had never seen in her long life, she silently, while it allowed the view opening from the bottom of the wicket, watched the Abnormal Things going away. Only when Chandelier, having rolled into some very deep hole, shook her numerous pendants loudly, and the rubbish lying in her box, jumping, echoing fell back to the bottom, the shepherd barked hesitantly and, yawning, went back to sleep at the gate.

When the last private house standing along the road was left behind, the dirt road began to loop heavily, tacking between piles of garbage, which was dumped in large numbers on both sides of it. It was inconvenient and expensive to take it out of here, so food and household waste was simply set on fire from time to time, and the dump in different places blackened with charred bottles, stones, tin cans, bags, and some parts of the car upholstery.

"Haha, and we thought, lying at home in the box, along with all the junk of Varsonofiy, that you would not find the same mess anywhere else!" exclaimed Washing Machine. From an excess of impressions, forgetting that she needed to hold on tightly to Bath, she hit with her drumsticks, until then clamped under her armpits, into all her drums, after which she ended this short passage with a sonorous blow to a copper cymbals.

Around the shadows flickered of running cats living near the garbage heaps, somewhere in the courtyard of the house left behind a dog barked viciously, immediately waking up almost all the dogs in the area, and the steppe dimly lit with rare lights was filled with the voices of dogs barking in every way. Only the bats, which rushed over the tops of Abnormal Things after mosquitoes, did not react in any way to a loud exclamation and drum roll, continuing their gambling pursuit with sharp turns, rapid ups, and dizzying descents.

Frightened by the unexpected and loud sounds of drums and cymbals, Bath rushed forward, hit a stone sticking out high from the path and rolled over onto her side, dropping from her edges an amused friend somewhere into the reed darkness that stretched along the sides. Fridge, which had arrived in time from the rear, was not at a loss and, turning cautiously, stopped near stunned and spinning her wheels Bath so that it would be easier for Sideboard to catch her with a cable hanging from the boom of the crane.

Having hooked her over the enameled bead that stood out in the darkness, Sideboard quickly put Bath on her wheels and began to peer tensely into the crushed thickets of reeds, where Washing Machine, which had lost support, had collapsed. Chandelier having caught up with companions at that moment, instantly realizing what had happened, groped a flashlight in her box with a mixer, took it out and directed a beam of dim light to where Sideboard carefully poked around with an excavator bucket, trying to stumble upon an iron rectangular case.

Finally, the beam, blurred and unevenly reflected by the threadbare mirror of a beat-up lantern, snatched out the white even side of Washing Machine in the thicket of huge dried reeds, and Sideboard, carefully turning the unlucky drummer so that the rubber hose could be pushed off with a massive hook, pulled it out with a crane from the captivity of dense roadside thickets, and after a second her bottom again firmly rested on the sides of Bath.

To help her friends, who were on their feet, cleanse themselves of dust and debris, Chandelier quickly scooped up water with the mixer in the nearby deep pothole and doused Bath and Washing Machine with warm muddy trickles. "Thank!" exclaimed both at the same time. "I didn`t expect to take a shower right on the way!" Bath added with a laugh. "Honey, next time express your enthusiasm not so violently," she advised Washing Machine, but she did not respond with mutual causticity, as she listened strenuously to the strange sounds coming from her laundry chamber.