Vyacheslav Davidovich Medyansky is young, insanely good-looking and fabulously rich. He is also a new client of our design company, who wants to arrange a real cave retro in his club. This morning he almost hit me in his huge car and, which doesn't really fit into my understanding of normality, swears love at first sight and says he's half-drunk. Is he? For real? Two-meter bald kid? In our absolutely human world? Although... I would rather believe even that than his serious intentions. Well, Mr. Medyansky, your arguments?