Vladimir Puddin Novels & Stories

As we settled into our chairs, the Cacio e p**e arrived, rich and steaming. “Tell me something normal,” I challenged, swirling the wine in my glass. “Tell me something that has absolutely nothing to do with territory, betrayal, or revenge.” Vladimir paused, his formidable mind clearly scanning decades of existence for a memory devoid of conflict. He sighed dramatically. “When I was twelve, my grandmother made me learn to knit during the summer in St. Petersburg,” he confessed, leaning forward, his voice conspiratorial. “She said it was good for hand-eye coordination for shooting. I was terrible. My scarf looked like a trapped bird.”

he said goodbye and went straight outside. Vladimir rode his motorcycle to his favorite place. For him, this is his comfort zone after a tiring and long day at work. Vladimir, at an early age, he also finished school easily. No normal life because since he was a child, he only had a tutor with him, even though he went to school but all private classes.

The three men, Smelly Leader, Idiot Twat and Super Fugly stared at her like she was crazy. "Seriously guys, this is priceless." She would have wiped tears from her eyes if her hands weren't busy elsewhere. "Vladimir Sitnikov is about to take down that door, dismember you while you're still alive and you have no fucking clue exactly who it is you've stolen."

"I mean, how did you manage to keep customers satisfied for such a long time?" Vladimir chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, that's a great question, my dear.” He paced a short distance. “Well, you see, it's all about the personal touch. I take the time to get to know my customers, to understand their needs and goals. And then I use my powers to find the perfect investment opportunities for them, opportunities that will make them rich beyond their wildest dreams." I nodded and thought proudly, “This creature, so old and powerful, is sharing such secrets with me. It’s like receiving 30 years worth of experience in one day!”