I’ve wanted to go to Rio de Janeiro since I was a child.
I’m sure you’ve never heard of that city.”
Balaganov shook his head apologetically.
The only centers of world culture he knew other than Moscow were Kiev, Melitopol, and Zhmerinka.
Anyway, he was convinced that the earth was flat.
Ostap threw a page torn from a book onto the table.
“This is from The Concise Soviet Encyclopedia.
Here’s what it says about Rio de Janeiro:
‘Population 1,360,000 . . .’ all right . . . ‘. . . substantial Mulatto population . . . on a large bay of the Atlantic Ocean . . .’ Ah, there!
‘Lined with lavish stores and stunning buildings, the city’s main streets rival those of the most important cities in the world.’
Can you imagine that, Shura?
Rival!
The mulattos, the bay, coffee export, coffee dumping, if you will, the charleston called
‘My Little Girl Got a Little Thing,’ and . . . Oh well, what can I say?
You understand what’s going on here.
A million and a half people, all of them wearing white pants, without exception.
I want to get out of here.
During the past year, I have developed very serious differences with the Soviet regime.
The regime wants to build socialism, and I don’t.
I find it boring.
Do you understand now why I need so much money?”
“Where are you going to get five hundred thousand?” asked Balaganov in a low voice.
“Anywhere,” answered Ostap. “Just show me a rich person, and I’ll take his money from him.”
“What?
Murder?” asked Balaganov in an even lower voice, quickly glancing at the nearby tables, where the citizens of Arbatov were raising their glasses to each other’s health.
“You know what,” said Ostap, “you shouldn’t have signed the so-called Sukharev Pact.
This intellectual effort apparently left you mentally exhausted.
You’re getting dumber by the minute.
Remember, Ostap Bender has never killed anybody.
Others tried to kill him, that’s true.
But he is clean before the law.
I’m no angel, of course.
I don’t have wings, but I do revere the criminal code.
That’s my weakness, if you will.”
“Then how are you going to take somebody else’s money?”
“How am I going to take it?
The method of swiping money varies, depending on the circumstances.
I personally know four hundred relatively honest methods of taking money.
That’s not a problem.
The problem is that there are no rich people these days. That’s what’s really frustrating.
Of course, somebody else might simply go after a defenseless state institution, but that’s against my rules.
You already know how I feel about the criminal code.
It’s not a good idea to rob a collective.
Just show me a wealthy individual instead.
But that individual doesn’t exist.”
“Oh, come on!” exclaimed Balaganov.
“There are some very rich people out there.”
“Do you know people like that?” asked Ostap quickly.
“Can you give me the name and exact address of at least one Soviet millionaire?
Yet they do exist, they gotta exist.